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magicshopaholic · 2 years

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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 :)

#taehyung x oc #taehyung reader #taehyung fanfic #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #bangtanwhq #btsdreamcourt #btscarnivalnet #kvanity #wkcnet #bts v #bts v fanfic

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marxy-06 · 10 months

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Favorites Rec List 3

More of my favs -> Thanks to all these incredible writers for making my day a little better :))

Kim Namjoon

Stretch you out (@chateautae)

A little bit in love with you (@joonbo)

Mr. masseuse (@lavenjoon)

"Let me take care of you" (@mintelepathy)

Fantasies (@sweetwritertanya)

Kim Seokjin

24/7 Marriage counselor (@jimlingss)

A better grip (@jinkookspencil)

A helping hand (@jjungkookislife)

You again (@gashinabts)

Soarin' (@aquagustd)

Seokjin's ho ho ho (@yoongsisbae)

Jealous (@youtifulhobi)

Sacrifices (@justcallmenikki7)

Influence (@aquagustd)

Min Yoongi

Back burner (@yoonpobs)

Escapism (@yoonlattesworld)

Finding home (@helenazbmrskai)

Strawberry icecream (@euphoricfilter)

When I needed you (@dreamescapeswriting)

The cockpile: love birds (@httpjeon)

Crescendo (@ugh-yoongi)

Apricity (@delightfulserendipity)

Jung Hoseok

All it takes (@yoongiofmine)

Nibbling it (@jjksblackgf)

The promises we keep (@vyduan)

Your body is an artwork (@borathae)

Maybe the first, but not the last time (@euphoricfilter)

Park Jimin

Oh so reluctant (@back2bluesidex)

Pretty like you (@axigailxo)

Serendipity (@angellesword)

Blowing dandelions (@httpjeon)

All I need (@joonberriess)

Apricot (@vminity21)

Triads and tribulations (@rendaze)

Star light, star bright (@readyplayerhobi)

High school sweethearts (@choiwrites)

Taste of little (@maliby)

Cherry king (@jiminrings)

Turning to stone (@jjungkookislife)

He makes you insecure (@kookiesbuckethat)

Kim Taehyung

The art of touch (@chateautae)

Nude (@btssmutgalore)

Triads and tribulations (@rendaze)

Match made in heaven (@beenbaanbuun)

"I'll take care of you" (@guqwrvte)

Library kisses (@kwanslvr)

Jeon Jungkook

Way Back Home (@solemnreads)

Stretch you out (@chateautae)

Seven Days (@bonny-kookoo)

Jock!jungkook (@joonberriess)

Tracing your tattoos (@btsugarush)

Shades of red (@thatlongspringnight)

Pu$$y fairy (@angelguk)

Idealizations concerning real life relations (@venusiangguk)

Little blue pill (@dreamescapeswriting)

Brown eyed baby (@jeonstudios)

Superstar (@jinkookspencil)

Spicy n' sweet (@thvhoe)

The ability to fathom (@hanniwrites)

Bad omega, sweet omega (@helenazbmrskai)

"I couldn't live without you" (@jungk0oksthighs)

In my eyes (@axigailxo)

"Besties for the resties?" (@jessikahathaway)

You're leaving me (@delukoo)

Love; weakness (@akinnie75)

Bloodline (@jjkeverlast)

Greek god (@bonny-kookoo)

Size kink (@lavenjoon)

Ex on the beach (@beahae)

Off-league (@hansolmates)

Accidental roommates (@jjkeverlast)

Good girl (@bonny-kookoo)

Crazy (@kookiecrumb)

Curious boy (@jinkookspencil)

Confident (@h0neypjm)

Still perfect (@cupoftaae)

OT7

Trouvaille (@spookyserenades)

A comforting hand (@purpleyoonn)

Abundance (@angelicyoongie)

Appreciation (@vminizzle)

Reaction: faking orgasms (@dreamescapeswriting)

Mean kitty, soft kitty (@purpleyoonn)

Best of us (@bts-trash-blog)

You belong (@imnotlauriane)

(If you have any recs pls share, especially for Hobi, Jin, & Rm :))

#writing #bts namjoon #bts v #bts jin #bts suga #bts x reader #bts smut #bangtan #namjoon #jimin #taehyung #run bts #bts jung hoseok #bts jung jungkook #bts jungguk #bts jungkook #bts recs #fanfic #fanfic rec

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kookslastbutton · 7 months

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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | ch. i

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, slight actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, loverstoexesto ?, unrequited love

word count: 3,328

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, mention of gossip columns and unequal treatment of how oc is portrayed post-divorce, hint of differences between men and women in the business world, oc struggling to be professional, both care about each other and are not toxic but oc fell in love, oc has the need to groom him a little out of habit, talks about Bam, feat, Namjoon and Taehyung, and sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, desk s*x, d*rty talk, oc is on bc, handjob, swearing, making out, neck kisses, clothed s*x, impulsive s*x, light praising, growling, some minor petnames (baby, Kook), mention of threesome, recalling of past sexual events

playing: Unkiss Me

a/n: uh…this one has been in my drafts and idk its kinda angsty but I decided I will share it. Enjoy! 🥰

series masterlist | next >>

From the moment he stepped into your office, Jungkook could tell every ounce of color was drained from your face. All except for your puffy red eyes that is, which he knows you've been rubbing fervently to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks.

He doesn't blame you for it though–you're his ex-wife.

Recent ex-wife that is.

For three years the two of you masqueraded as the perfect power couple; appearing completely in love to the public eye in hopes of forming an unshakable business partnership (transaction more like). You attended charity balls together, collaborated on several work projects, and attended countless corporate functions to establish both your presence in your respective industries.

That's right, you and Jungkook were in an arranged marriage and it would have flourished into a classic love story if it wasn't for one obvious detail–you're the only one that fell in love.

Despite all the times he's called you "stunning" when you dolled up for formal events or that you "feel so good" during late-night sex, Jungkook never truly loved you. He cared about you, did his best not to intentionally hurt you, and even tried loving you back; thinking he could fall for you with time.

But the most he could ever see you as is a friend, a beautiful friend, though a friend nonetheless. He knows how much it pains you, especially after you've held out hope that he'll want you the same way someday. This one embarrasses you the most which he wishes it wouldn't.

Well, Jungkook doesn't want to trap either of you in a loveless marriage any longer. So even if it means being the center of gossip columns for a while, he's giving you a divorce so you can find the right person to share your love with.

After all, you deserve it; you both do.

Today's day one of looking at one another as exes and it's bittersweet, to say the least. The only factor that would make this worse is if children were in the equation, but there aren't any.

"Thanks for letting me swing by __," he speaks first, doing his best to conjure up a genuine smile. The black floral button-up he's wearing suits him well and his smooth chest peaking out near the collar is far too tempting, yet you know better than to let your eyes linger.

"Of course," you answer and grab a small box from behind your desk. "These are 100% yours so I wouldn't keep them from you." Jungkook takes the box of belongings from your hands with slight hesitation. You're keeping a brave front for the sake of civility and professionalism.

He doesn't blame you for that either.

As a CEO of a large multinational corporation himself, Jungkook's no stranger to the age-old philosophy that that office is no place to let your personal woes get out of hand; you have a team to lead and a reputation to uphold. The latter is proving to be harder for you than him, however, being that the media is portraying you as some kind of she-devil, spinster, or worse of all—a cheater.

Jungkook plans to personally make sure those articles get removed from the public eye before the end of the week. (Not that he'll tell you though.)

"I still could have dropped by the house to pick these up if it'd been easier. I feel bad for interrupting your work day over a couple of old books, records, and dog toys." He watches you nod silently as he vocalizes the inconvenience of it all; he really doesn't have to but he does it anyway.

"No, it's alright. You haven't been to the house since you moved out, so I thought it'd be better if we met here instead." You pause to check the time. "If there's anything you think of that you might've forgotten later, just let me know. In the meantime, I have a meeting in twenty so..."

"He misses you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Bam, I mean." Jungkook throws the box under an arm and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera gallery until he gets to one particular photo of a red and tan Doberman. "He hates the new place and all he does is sulk by the door."

Your heart's already struggling to settle down from the painful reality that the man you love is leaving you, let alone being reminded of another forced separation. Bam's the closest thing to a baby that either of you ever had and he was one of the few things that bonded you and your now ex-husband together.

Being Jungkook's dog, however, he couldn't stay with you. That means no more visiting the dog park, sneaking treats behind Jungkook's back, and snuggling together in the king-size bed after a stressful day.

"I'm sure he just wants his favorite chew toy that's been held hostage at the house," you joke lightly, thinking it simpler to spin the topic. It's similar to what Jungkook does when he uses flowery language to soften the cold hard truth of your divorce; that he doesn't love you and he can't ever. "Give Bam a lot of attention for me. I miss him too."

"Of cour—shit!" When Jungkook moves to slip his phone back into his pocket he loses his balance, causing the box with his belongings to spill out on your office floor. Naturally, you kneel down to help him clean up the mess. It's not until your fingers reach for the same item and come into contact with each other that you quickly retract your hand. "Sorry, did I shock you?" He asks gently and tosses the last item into the box before standing up.

"No, you didn't." You rise to your feet as well, until you're face to face with him. This time it's closer than before. His hooded eyes stare straight into yours and you can't believe it takes being inches from his face to notice how bloodshot his eyes are. "You look exhausted. You should go home and rest Kook." The petname is out before your brain tells you to stop.

Jungkook's eyes widen, the corner of his lip subtly quirking up for the first time since the start of the conversation. "Don't worry about me __. I probably get more breaks than you do. But thanks." He briefly glances at the ticking Snoopy clock behind you, a Christmas gift he gave you as a joke last year. "You still have that?"

You look over your shoulder at the small, Snoopy-shaped digital clock on your desk. Ten minutes until your next meeting. "It's cute and it makes for a great conversation starter with clients so I guess so. If you want me to give it ba—"

"Keep it," he interrupts. "Please, it was a gift and I'd like you to have it if you enjoy it." Jungkook gnaws on his lip before continuing. "Speaking of clients and business partners, I should make myself scarce now shouldn't I?"

"Yes. I do have that meeting soon." But once he leaves, neither of you is sure when you'll see the other again aside from the odd charity event. The Annual Winter Gala in December is one that particularly comes to mind.

Most high-ranking executives like yourselves attend the function to keep up appearances and to network with other professionals. Last year, you and Jungkook were the center of attention however now that you're divorced, you fear you'll be avoided like the plague—they always preferred Jungkook over you anyway.

"You're forming a new partnership with that actor, right? Kim Taehyung? I read an inkling about it online yesterday." He also read his whole biography too. The man is equally handsome as he is altruistic and kind.

"Nothing's signed and sealed yet. I'm sure you've heard that he's gotten dozens of other offers on the table. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't nabbed him yet."

"Yeah, we don't need...wait sorry, let me rephrase that. We aren't ready for a new partner or merger yet."

You can read between the lines despite Jungkook's correction. His company is thriving more than yours in every way, so he doesn't need the help of a third-party endorser...like you. Well, you're not doing too shabby yourself and this isn't simply about fame and fortune you want to argue.

The head poking through your door stops you from following through on that last line.

"Mrs. Jeon—shit." Your secretary Kim Namjoon screws his eyes shut at his drastic misstep. "Ms. __, Kim Taehyung called and said he'll be a bit late due to unexpected delays during his filming today. He apologizes profusely but is on his way over now. Sajangnim," he bows at Jungkook respectively.

"That's fine, Namjoon, thank you. You can send him in whenever he gets here. Mr. Jeon was just about to leave and I had the rest of my day cleared."

"Of course. I'll let him know to come in." Your secretary nods and shuts the door. Jungkook shifts between his feet once Namjoon is out of sight, a habit he's picked up that tells you he has more to say.

"Was there anything else, Mr. Jeon?" You shuffle a few files on your desk, prepping for your meeting with Taehyung. At this point, you're not even looking at Jungkook.

"Mr. Jeon? I think I prefer when you call me Kook more," he mutters, allowing his line of sight to catch a glimpse of your lips. "Can I...kiss you? Before I go."

The question knocks the wind out of your lungs and you instantly lift your head up toward him. "Kiss me?" You gulp slowly, then shake your head. "No, I'd rather we not. Goodbye kisses aren't really my thing." You couldn't be a bigger liar, evident from the sudden churning in your gut. Having Jungkook's lips on yours was the best and worst moments of your entire relationship but you have to fight yourself....your innate desires that tell you to say yes.

"Okay, I understand. What about a hug?"

"Jungkook..."

"I'm sorry, I'm pushing. Thanks again for my stuff." He gestures at the box under his arm. "I hope your meeting with Kim Taehyung goes well. Maybe I'll see you both at the next Winter Gala." He makes a beeline for the door.

"Wait!"

Jungkook stills in his tracks as he watches you stride in front of him. He's unsure what you stopped him for until your hands reach out towards his shirt collar, smoothing the delicate material down. A light smile plays on his face as you do this, though he says nothing aside from a simple 'thanks'.

"It was bothering me the whole time." You finish fixing his collar and peer up into his Bambi eyes. Out of all the potential suitors, you wish Jeon Jungkook didn't become your husband. It's not like you got to keep him or anything.

Jungkook once again flickers his gaze toward your barely parted lips. And this time, you do the same for him. Before either of you have time to back out you lean forward and kiss him.

It's a hard kiss too. Painful but so inviting that neither of you pulls away.

With his free hand, Jungkook snakes a hand around your waist to hug you close. Having his fingers pressed against the small of your back is so familiar and all you can do is deepen the kiss.

You're obviously not the only one that gets a sense of pleasure from this because, in a matter of seconds, the box from under Jungkook's arm falls to the ground. He then places his second hand on the side of your neck and jawline which you lean into, exposing the other side of your neck.

"Jungkook," you gasp when his lips attach themself to the soft skin, sucking lightly. His teeth come out and nip too. "Wait, we can't do this, we shouldn't. Taehyung, he'll be here soon."

"That would have sounded so convincing if you didn't just moan the words, baby." He walks you backward until you're forced to sit atop your mahogany desk.

"Don't call me that." You allow him to push up your pencil skirt and spread your thighs until your panties are the only material he sees. You decided to go with black lace today, his favorite now that you think about it.

"Did you—"

"No, they weren't for you."

A brief growl leaves the man's rose-tinted lips. "In that case, we don't need them." He places both hands on your hips and brings you into another kiss, messier than before. His tongue shoves between the seam of your lips to lick every crevasse he can. He hasn't kissed you like this for months and to be brutally honest, he's missed it as much as you.

Jungkook hasn't been with anyone else since marrying you either, which means he's completely adjusted to your body, your preferences, and what turns you on. The same applies to you so while he's busy shoving his tongue down your throat, you palm his half-harden bulge through his trousers.

"Mm," he groans and bucks his hips into your hand. You smile at how well you've managed to draw a response from him. With a little burst of confidence, you hastily move to unbuckle his pants. "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kisses.

You decide not to answer, preferring to reach inside his trousers to take his length out. You make sure to pump it a few times until he's fully hard. Jungkook has a gorgeous dick, and that takes a lot for you to admit.

"Fuck, that's it." He says with gritted teeth, now watching your hand as it moves up and down his cock. "Get me how you want me."

"We don't have much time." You slide your panties down your legs and spread your thighs wide apart, which makes Jungkook's eyes dilate about 10 meters. "Fuck me, please." One last time. Make love to me one last time.

"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."

"It's okay, I'm on birth control. As long as you're still clean then its fine."

"I am. I got tested recently. But are you sure you want this?"

You glance at his pulsating length, tip leaking with pre-cum, and swallow hard. "Hurry."

"Fuck, okay." Jungkook wastes not another second and guides you flat on your back, his hands resting on either side of your body. The coolness of your desk has you shiver slightly. He then urges you to raise your legs until they can wrap loosely around his slim waist. And as if second nature, you link your arms around his neck as he eases him into you. He's able to bottom out without much effort thanks to how wet you've become.

"Oh god." Your back arches off the surface of your desk as Jungkook thrusts into you. They're only practice thrusts at first to get you re-adjusted to his size, yet the pleasure zipping down your spine already has your eyes rolling up.

You shouldn't be doing this at all. Your conscious whispers to again to which you blindly dismiss. You'll enjoy it now and tomorrow, start a new—another lie you tell yourself.

"Fuckfuckfuck, you're so wonderful for me," he chants while pushing his cock in and out of you, the speed of his movements picking up to an insane rate. Jungkook never had an issue with quickies so he's likely in his element now. "You know what this reminds me of?" He cocks a smirk and kisses down your neck.

"Hm?"

"That time when we were abroad for a weekend conference. Remember when we stopped at my second office to pick up some files? You were so horny that day that you pushed me into my chair and demanded that I let you ride me. It took the wind right out of my sails to see you like that, so confident and in control." He prys apart the top button of your blouse until he can slide the material down your shoulders. He doesn't take it off completely, favoring the chance to place kisses on your newly exposed area instead.

"I was beyond stressed that day. It was the first time I had to speak at that conference and you looked so good with your freshly slicked back hair. I couldn't stop myself—oh fuck! Right there Kook, don't slow down. Please." Jungkook grunts at the use of his petname and fucks you rougher, sweat forming around his forehead as his dark hair dangles messily over his eyes.

You manage to sneak a glance at the time on your Snoopy clock between thrusts. "Shit, I need to come soon, or Kim Taehyung's never going to agree to do business with me." The man laughs and buries his head on your shoulder.

"You never know, he could be really into threesomes."

"Fuck! Don't joke about that." You claw at his back and surprise both of you with the unexpected clenching of your pussy.

"You're right, I take it back," he groans and continues to snap his hips. "Looks like he's not the one who wants a threesome after all, considering your body's response to the suggestion. You wanna ask him if he walks in?" He whispers in your ear and you're embarrassed that your cheeks burn at the thought.

Of course, Kim Taehyung was sexy and you've rehearsed to yourself dozens of times not to let yourself get any crazy ideas about him. Still, one unrequited love is enough for you; Taehyung wouldn't want a divorcee. You shake the train of thought before it has time to go any further. "Make me come, Kook. Need you to finish too. It's not just Taehyung who could walk in at any second."

Jungkook grunts and continues to thrust into you, bouncing you up and down his thick length as the desk shakes underneath you. He feels you getting closer and closer by the sporadic clenching of your walls squeezing him. A big part of him doesn't want this to end but it has to....he doesn't love you. He only wants to make you feel good before he has to say goodbye. Both of you come just before Namjoon calls your office phone, giving you a heads-up that Taehyung's about to enter your office.

Jungkook shoves his pants back on while you button up your blouse and fold over your skirt. You decided to shove your underwear in your bag with the lack of time. No one has any business digging in there anyway.

"How do I look?" You turn around to get a quick once-over from Jungkook but he's already out the door. Now the person standing in front of you is Kim Taehyung who has nothing but the most genuine smile.

"You look lovely as always Ms. __. I'm so sorry I'm late by the way. I feel terrible about it so I brought you these." Taehyung whips out a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little research on you ahead of time. I found out these have a special place in your heart."

You smile and accept the bouquet with thanks. As you set them on your desk, a messages comes through your phone. You manage to give a quick look.

Unknown Number: Sorry I had to duck so fast! I know it looked rude but Taehyung was already opening the door and you were dressed so I thought it'd be better if I left. Hope you're meeting goes well! And thanks for everything today ;) if you need anything, you have my number.

You flip your phone over and invite Taehyung to have a seat. Business is business, and you have to carry on even if your heart has completely sunk to the ground. Kim Taehyung is sweet anyway, so you'll enjoy his company.

Too bad you don't realize how much he enjoys yours as well.

a/n: so, yeah... there's a potential for our Jk to actually love oc and not realize it but either way he does care about her (despite the impulsive sex). And yes, taehyung likes oc... it's like a double unrequited love 😔 okay bye lmk what you think, thank you! 😘

Also, lmk what you think about jk in this poll!

masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook imagines #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts smut #bts angst #bts au #bts imagines #bts fanfics #bts x reader #fic:guiltypleasures #kookslastbutton

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euphoricfilter · 7 months

Text

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• ° kinktober masterlist

31 days of smut let’s get it °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

please read the warnings for each chapter!!

･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

☆ day 1 ~ taehyung: breeding kink

tags/ warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, breeding kink, baby talk (but no actual kids because yuck)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 2 ~ : jimin: pet play

tags/ warnings: pwp, pet play, ass play, fingering of both holes, butt plugs, mild dumbification

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 3 ~ jungkook: thigh riding

tags/ warnings: pwp, thigh riding, cumming untouched, implied use of recreational drugs (weed)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 4 ~ hoseok: somnophilia

tags/ warnings: pwp, somnophilia, consensual drugging, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 5 ~ yoongi: praise kink

tags/warnings: pwp, oral (m. receiving), praise kink, vaginal fingering, cum swallowing

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 6 ~seokjin: corruption kink

tags/ warnings: pwp, corruption kink, he’s a little condescending too, just jin teaching you how to touch yourself?, fingering, cumming untouched

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 7 ~ namjoon: double penetration

tags/ warnings: pwp, use of a dildo (the ones that have a hole for fake cum), double penetration, unprotected sex, creampie x2 ?, squirting

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 8 ~ jungkook: size kink

tags/ warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, he’s hung okay? whatever you’re thinking make it bigger— he has a fat cock, belly bulge

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 9 ~ taehyung: watersports

tags/ warnings: pwp, watersports (pee), cumming untouched, literally wet and messy

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 10 ~ jimin: cock warming

tags/warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, creampie, cock warming

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 11 ~ hoseok: oral fixation

tags/ warnings: pwp, fingers in mouth!!!! (lets gooo), oral (m. receiving), cum swallowing, subspace, condescending dom hoseok!!! (lets gooooooo!!!)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 12 ~ yoongi: overstimulation

tags/ warnings: pwp, vibrator, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, minor oral? (f. receiving), unprotected sex

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 13 ~ seokjin: creampie

tags/ warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, creampie, cum kink, lil spanking action

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 14 ~ namjoon: face sitting

tags/ warnings: pwp, touched on insecurities, face sitting, namjoon’s a munch, grinding, pleasure dom joon

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 15 ~ jungkook: fingering

tags/ warnings: pwp, fingering, a singular slap to the pussy, squirting, cumming untouched, cum swallowing? sort of? cum is ingested basically, all very lighthearted and fun

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 16 ~ taehyung: spit kink

tags/ warnings: pwp, spitting in a mouth (yum?), wet and messy, unprotected sex, creampie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 17 ~ jimin: mirror sex

tags/ warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, fingering, exhibitionism? kinda, they just fuck in a public gym, the panties stayed on, finger in mouth !!!!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 18 ~ hoseok: squirting

☆ day 19 ~ yoongi: free use

☆ day 20 ~ seokjin: spanking

☆ day 21 ~ namjoon: voyeurism

☆ day 22 ~ jungkook: exhibitionism

☆ day 23 ~ taehyung: knotted dildo

☆ day 24 ~ jimin: role play

☆ day 25 ~ hoseok: primal play

☆ day 26 ~ yoongi: shibari

☆ day 27 ~ seokjin: vibrator

☆ day 28 ~ namjoon: cum stuffing

☆ day 29 ~ jungkook: pantie kink

☆ day 30 ~ taehyung: belly bulge

☆ day 31 ~ yoongi: mask kink

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peachypinkygloss · 8 months

Text

❝𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑❞ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ᥫ᭡.

Boys come and go, but not men. Men stay. They stick. They obsess. a peachypinkygloss' 1 year anniversary special.

rated 18+. minors do not interact. every fiction down below has dark and unethical characters. do not read if uncomfortable/triggered. *no taglist.

"all your glory,"

dior girl ✰ park jimin

Park Jimin is one of a kind. When he wants something, he gets it, no matter how hard it can be. He's not scared to get his hands dirty. If he had any morals, maybe he'd consider his obsession with you getting out of hands. But this man has absolutely no morals.

୨୧ PAIRING. designer!jimin x model!reader

୨୧ GENRE. strangers to lovers, age gap (21 & 38), hard dom!jimin, smut, angst

posted on 09/16/23.

"you like your girls insane,"

secret diary ✰ kim taehyung

A passionate artist, a caring father, a honest and loving man. You first thought you were the insane one for wanting Taehyung all to yourself until he showed you his true colours and how wicked and unhinged his obsession for you has grown to be.

୨୧ PAIRING. dilf!taehyung x babysitter!reader

୨୧ GENRE. dilf au, age gap (23 & 37), dom!taehyung, single dad!taehyung, smut, angst

coming soon...

"and for you i keep my legs apart,"

adultery ✰ jeon jungkook

You were already feeling guilty for messing with a married man, so you didn't need him to confess his unacceptable and lewd feelings for you. Especially when he categorically refuses no for an answer.

୨୧ PAIRING. ceo!jungkook x university student!reader

୨୧ GENRE. infidelity au, age gap (25 & 31), mean dom!jungkook, smut, angst

coming soon...

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #jimin fic

4K notes · View notes

curryshesus · 6 months

Text

bts fics that radiate sheer utter brilliance

(aka my favorite fics of all time) pt. 1

hello, hello! please make sure to show your love and support to these lovely authors if you enjoyed any of these reads as much as i did <3 note: all of these fics contain nsfw content (minors dni please). enjoy!

➺ the road to you - by @bonvoyagenoona

| ot7 x reader (tae focus) | 110k

au of all aus, best friend!taehyung, high school boyfriend!jimin, professor!yoongi, college boyfriend!jungkook, art enthusiast and city heartthrob!namjoon, barista!hobi, actor!jin, angst, fluff, smut, series

>>summary: "armed with your quick wit, creative passion, talent for storytelling, and innate understanding of your fanbase, you have met every challenge, surpassed every goal, and achieved the unimaginable. despite the earth shifting erratically under your firmly planted feet, you’ve always had a plan. you’ve made peace with the sacrifices you’ve had to make, and you’ve long forgotten the rejections and heartbreaks that came as a result. your agent keeps reminding you that you’re at the precipice of something new, that your audience is waiting for your next project with bated breath. this is usually when you thrive. so why do you feel so lost? and who can you count on from your past to help you find your way?"

➺ matilda - by @babystrcandy

| yoongi x reader | 141.8k

brother’s best friend au, f2e2f2l, slice of life, angst, fluff, eventual smut, series

>> summary: "loneliness had always been a constant for you, haunting you like a ghost; until your older brother’s best friend, min yoongi, came into your life. you both promised each other something back then - you’d always have his support and he’d always have yours. but with time and age, you weren’t sure how much that all still stood to be true."

➺ bitchin' - by @kinktae

| jungkook x reader | 49.5k

1980’s au, inspired by to all the boys i’ve loved before, e2l, fake lovers/college au, frat boy!jungkook, smut, series

>> summary: "the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook."

➺ flower - by @readyplayerhobi

| hoseok x reader |

online dating au, fluff, future angst, future smut, series

>> summary: "you finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the flower dating app. one of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. what happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

➺ suncity - by @jamaisjoons

| hoseok x reader | 17k

strangers to lovers au, vacation au, angst, fluff, smut, oneshot

>> summary: "when you’d taken a spontaneous trip to barcelona, you hadn’t expected to meet hoseok. more than that, you hadn’t expected to begin a torrid affair with him."

➺ idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk

| jungkook x reader | 40.9k

fuckboy!jk x hopeless romantic!oc, s2l, fwb, smut, angst, oneshot

>> summary: "jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return."

➺ peach parfait - by @jamaisjoons

| seokjin x reader | 19k

enemies to lovers au, fluff, smut, slight angst, two parts

>> summary: "you and seokjin have always been at odds as the top two chefs at big hit academy of culinary arts."

➺ tell me no lies - by @jeongi

| jungkook x reader | 15.1k

ceo au, criminal au, robbers au, angst, smut, minimal fluff

>> summary: "you chose to rob your boss, however; you never expected to fall in love with him."

➺ concrete king - by @bratkook

| jungkook x reader | 16.7k

sweet summer romance, fluff, smut, himbo energy, two parts

>> summary: "when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor there's no way you could ever say no to him."

3K notes · View notes

wildestdreamsblog · 4 months

Text

Might as well be drunk in love: 1 of 2

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: This idea came to me when I went to the mountain and saw a love potion wine thingy being sold there. I think it's just the name of the wine, anyway! I really, really tried so hard to finish this in one post but it's already almost 8kish and we aren't even near the end sksks Happy New Year, my loves! I hope you'll like my gift for you <3

“Am I that hopeless?”

“What?” your friend asked in faux innocence, blinking her eyes owlishly at you. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, sweetie-“

You glared at her as you pointed in an exaggerated manner at the expensive pink tumbler she handed you mere seconds ago. The tumbler was too fancy, something that you wouldn’t buy for yourself and something that a certain handsome but infuriating CEO of yours was fond of carrying around.

However, what was insulting was the content of the said tumbler.

“I just gifted you that because you mentioned that it was beautiful-“

“Do you really think I’d end up alone?!”

“I don’t understand-“

“You literally just said that you put the love potion you bought in the mountains here!” you hissed lowly, keeping your eyes around the conference room as your department waited for the seven CEOs to arrive. You attempted to smile which more or less came out as a grimace at one of your colleagues who looked at you weirdly because of your mini-outburst. You weren’t exactly meek in nature, nor were you shy. However, you weren’t really keen on letting anyone overhear that your close friend bought you a love potion just because she thought you would end up alone.

That was embarrassing, even for you. So nope, you would for sure keep this under wraps.

Her brows furrowed harmlessly, although you could see a hint of smile on her lips, “You’re welcome?”

“I’m not thanking you-“

Just then, all the seven CEOs walked in the conference room, their presence commanding and silence reigned through the whole room. The first to enter was Min Yoongi. He was strolling in the room with his hands in his pocket. He was said to be the ace of the group who could smell bullshit despite it being miles away. He honestly looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here right now, though. It was the complete opposite of Jung Hoseok, also known as the sunshine of the group. He was smiling widely as he greeted the department and some employees by their names, yet you weren’t fooled by his beautiful smile. He was the strictest of them all. He was perfectionist down to the core and he was the last to forgive any mistake. The last of the hyung line to enter was the Kim Seokjin, the most beautiful man you have ever seen. It was like the room literally lightened up when he stepped in, like the birds sang melodically the moment he opened his eyes. His tall form and his movement were precise as he confidently sauntered to his seat which just so happened to be beside yours. He placed his pink tumbler on the table, so eerily similar to yours sans the engraved of his name on his tumbler. The beautiful asshole didn’t even spare you a glance. Your back unconsciously straightened when the lead CEO, Kim Namjoon, locked eyes with you for a moment when he entered the room. He was said to be one of the most intelligent man in the whole country. You didn’t even doubt it one bit. He was capable, and his leadership was on another level. Should he decide to run for a political seat, you would undoubtedly vote for him. He had what it took, you thought. He was charismatic, calm and he knew when to listen.

The CEOs were dubbed by the employees to be divided by two: the Maknae and the Hyung line.

Finally, the maknae line entered. The three of them could always be found together. Park Jimin, the eldest of the line, who had one of the most beautiful smiles you ever saw. In fact, you once overheard your colleague that he interacted with her once and it left her thinking of what they really were. He was followed by Kim Taehyung and also labelled as his soulmate. He was expressionless as he entered, only cracking a smile when he turned to Jimin. You always thought that he could be a model or an actor if he wanted to. He definitely had the looks for it. Last to enter was the muscular Jeon Jungkook, also known as the golden maknae of the group. There were no contracts, mergers or acquisitions that he couldn’t convince the other party of signing. Not only was he capable of everything, but he excelled in everything. Thus, his nickname. However, despite the way he held himself during the negotiations, you observed him to be shy and highly reserved. All of a sudden, he looked up from his seat as though he could feel your eyes on him, his doe eyes curious as he took you in. He held your eyes for a moment until he blinked owlishly and looked down at his hands in curiosity.

Kim Namjoon sat in the middle, the others sitting beside him as they regarded the room with a powerful look.

“Shall we begin?” Kim Seokjin asked, his eyes focused on the slides reflecting in the projector.

Several headaches, passive aggressiveness from Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin, disappointed sighs from Jin and Yoongi, difficult revisions ‘suggested’ by Taehyung, and corrections of miniscule errors of calculations by Jungkook later, the meeting finally ended.

You were weary as you trudged out of the conference room the CEOs were still in. They dismissed the department, expecting revisions within the day after tomorrow before discussing among themselves. It was honestly not a lot of time and you could already feel the lack of sleep you and the department would further experience under their tyranny. You willed yourself not to fall asleep as you walked to your desk, your close friend who was equally tired as you sat down on her seat beside your desk.

“I’m so tired. It’s like my soul and all the happiness I was able to experience in my young life were sucked out of me,” she lamented, her head resting on her desk. “If only the pay isn’t so greaaaat. ”

You nodded at what she said, already likening the CEOs to dementors in Harry Potter. Interacting with them made you aged several years. Additionally, meetings with them made you reconsider whether you needed a roof over your head, whether you needed to eat at least twice a day, whether you needed to drink clean water-

Speaking of…this wasn’t your tumbler.

The horrifying realization made you stood up abruptly. You lifted the pink tumbler to your widening eyes, and by that name there was no denying that this wasn’t yours. Your sudden movement awoke your friend from her own misery, yet you didn’t have the time to explain. Without any further thought, you ran back to the conference room, screaming and crying about how you were definitely going to get fired.

Of course, the elevator was under maintenance.

Of course, you had to run numerous flights of stairs.

Of course, it was just your luck that you ran into your manager just when you reached their floor.

And of course, the moment you opened the door, there they were, innocently drinking from a glass, the tumbler emptied as it sat in the middle of the table.

“Don’t drink that!”

Taehyung was the first to turn to you, his dark expressionless eyes meeting yours with intense stubbornness. He kept his eyes on yours as gulped the contents wholeheartedly.

Oh heavens, no.

He put the glass down with a resounding thud which felt like a nail to your coffin. You turned to look at the other CEOs with shaky eyes and it was apparent that they definitely drank their fair share of whatever was in the tumbler. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure if it was really safe for consumption. You were going to kill your friend for her prank!

Their eyes were focused on you. You couldn’t even blame them. You shouted at them all while looking like a lunatic with your disheveled hair and huffing breaths like you did a marathon. Oh wait, yes you probably did by the amount of running you did today. They were probably thinking that you were mentally unfit for this job and oh my God you were going to lose your job.

“May we help you, Ms. Y/N?” Hoseok asked you politely, his eyes never wavering from yours which was…unusual. Despite him being the image of kindness and approachability, he never looked at his employees for longer than necessary. He was a man that possessed such discipline when it came to his time. This… was absolutely an unnecessary length of time for eye contact.

“T-that’s my drink,” you finally said after tearing your eyes from Hoseok’s. You pointedly looked at the empty pink tumbler, not minding the intense look Namjoon was giving you.

“We apologize, little one,” Namjoon broke the silence, his deep voice awakening you from your stupor. “Yours looked like hyung’s.”

Little one???

Jimin smirked before running his hand through his blonde locks. His eyes were on yours as he looked up at you. “Yours undeniably taste better, though.”

Before you could even blink, Yoongi pointed at you with a rare smile on his lips. “You looked thirsty. Would you like to go to my office and drink with me?”

Was that…an invitation?!

You felt a hand tugged your sleeve. You turned, only to find beautiful doe eyes looking up at you from his seated form. “Hi! What year were you born?”

“199x-,“ you answered absentmindedly, you eyes roaming around the room when he tugged your sleeve again for your attention.

“You’re older than me!” he gasped; his excitement palpable as he stood up. He towered over you, his grin pleasant and you thought at that moment that he looked a lot like a bunny, or a kangaroo with the way his chest muscles were bulging over his office clothes. “Then you’re my noona! I can call you ‘noona’, right? Come on, take a seat here!”

He pulled the chair closer and tapped on it eagerly.

This was wrong, you thought. Was that thing really effective?! You dreaded to think that it was and you had a certain someone to torture once you get out of this room.

You were shaking your head before he could even pull you and you watched as his expression fell. Suddenly, he looked like a child that lost his toy with the way he was pouting. And nope, you couldn’t deal with that today. You looked at the man who hadn’t spoken one bit before smiling sheepishly at him. You placed his pink tumbler in front of him.

“I apologize. I must have switched yours with mine-“

His jaw tightened as he leaned in. Heavens, he was even more handsome this close. Kim Seokjin looked up at you with his ethereal eyes before resting his chin on his hand. “I’ve been drinking yours since the meeting, my love. It’s absolutely not your fault. Mine was coffee. This-“ he lifted the empty tumbler, “-is, I presume, a juice.”

Confusion further painted on your face, “You knew? Then why did you keep on drinking-“

He shrugged his broad shoulders, “It’s…addicting.”

“O-okay, then I’ll just leave yours here-“

“Tell me, my love. Do you like your job?”

Welp, here it was. You were so going to get fired. Oh my God, how were you going to feed your cat? He had such an expensive taste!

“I-“

“Because there’s an opening in my office. Would you like to be my secretary-“

“But hyung, you already have one-“

“Shut up, Taehyung,” he hissed at the now pouting man before turning to smile at you as though he didn’t berate his co-CEO in front of you. Chaos ensued as the boys fought and bickered for who would be your direct boss as you inched closer to the door.

“I’m just gonna go,” you whispered and before you could even reach the door, Taehyung looked up at you with his sharp eyes.

“Where are you going!”

“I-I have to finish the report this week, right?”

Namjoon stood up before declaring that he would finish it for you. And when you shook your head, “I am officially moving the deadline to next month! No need to stress, my little love!”

You blinked owlishly before doing what was best for you and your sanity- you ran away.

“So, they drank it?”

“Are you even listening to me?!” you shrieked over the phone, walking back in forth in front of your cat that was now looking at you as though he wanted to be adopted by a sane person and not you. “I just told you. They all drank it. All seven of them!”

You could hear the laughter in her voice which was not helping your panic, “I thought you didn’t believe love potions?”

“I-I didn’t! You didn’t see how they were acting! It was so peculiar!”

“Well, honey, how did they act?”

“Kindly! And it’s so weird!”

She paused, her silence making your heart beat faster. “Holy shit. It’s definitely effective. I need to go back there and buy another one for myself-“

“Focus! Is there an antidote or anything?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask my grandmother that lives there. I’ll let you know, but for the meantime, hold on very tight, okay?”

“What do you mean?!”

“Uhm. She said it’s very potent? I thought she was kidding. We’ll observe them tomorrow, okay? I’ll fix this.“

You were only able to sleep for two hours last night for two reasons: your work that you accomplished at eleven in the evening, leaving you six ample hours to sleep, and second, them.

Your phone didn’t stop ringing last night. You didn’t know how they obtained your number, and you dreaded to think that they used their position to direct the Human Resources department to give your personal number (yup, they definitely did).

You were about to fall asleep when your phone wouldn’t stop, and when you opened your eyes, you wished to all that was holy that you threw away the tumbler as soon as she handed it to you. Or that you didn’t choose the sit next to Seokjin.

You wished to God that your phone wasn’t blowing up now, but it certainly was.

Kookie: Hi, noona! Welcome to the Bangtan groupchat!

You squinted your eyes as the glaring screen illuminated with several messages from them.

Jwehope: Darling, are you a sprite? Because you've got the right amount of fizz to make my heart pop!

Jiminie: That’s so corny. I, for one, think that little one is a magician.

Jiminie: Because everytime I look at her, everyone just disappears.

V: Do you want to disappear, Jimin? Because I can arrange that.

Joonie: Ms. Y/N-shi, do you have a moment? I asked because I would like to discuss something.

At that, your trepidation grew. Among five, the lead CEO definitely held a serious tone. Did they find it as weird as you did that they were paying you attention? Did they trace it to that drink? Were you now in an even bigger mess than you initially thought?

You replied tensely: Yes, I am available, Kim Daepyonim.

WWH Jin: Why are you still awake? Beauty sleep is essential, my love!

Joonie: Great! I’d like to discuss the exponential growth of my feelings for you.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Suga: You’re all so hopeless. My Y/N would never fall for that.

Suga: On the other hand, would you like some Samsung stocks?

And that was why you never got to sleep peacefully last night. You sighed as you got on the bus. You opted to leave at an earlier hour because you wanted some time to think without the noise of the world and the buzzling movement of people commuting. You could feel a headache coming, but you prayed that it wouldn’t come through.

You should have known your prayers were seldom heard.

A vacant seat on the backside of the bus greeted you, and you were only too elated to finally sit throughout your commute. Peace, finally, you thought. You had barely settled in, barely breathed a sigh of relief when the once empty chair beside you was filled in by none other than him

“Fancy running to you here!” Taehyung noted in a deep voice as though this was not part of his plan, as though he didn’t wake up at a godforsaken hour just to ‘run’ to you.

You blinked, astonished by his presence. This was the last place you expected him to be. Hell, you didn’t even sure he ever experienced riding a bus! What the fuck was he doing here? Where was now your peace?!

“You-You’re here…” you trailed off, your eyes widening in shock as your brows furrowed in disbelief. You had foolishly thought that maybe, once they slept it off, then it would slowly be flushed out of their system. Oh, how wrong could you be. “Why?”

Taehyung smirked at you, his dark eyes taking you in. His dark hair was gelled up, his suit impeccable and without any crease in sight. He was somehow manspreading and you weren’t stoic enough not to notice the way his thick thigh was touching the side of yours. “I wanted to see you.”

“You’re so…honest.”

He didn’t even look embarrassed by his honesty. It didn’t displace him; what did was the annoying pain in his heart as the hours passed by and you weren’t in his arms nor his sight. He hated it. It felt wrong!

The other boys weren’t fairing any better but oh well, to each of his own. He may or may have also drained their cars of gas so they couldn’t leave. He thought that no one needed you as much as he did.

“I surmised that you wouldn’t believe if I say I frequent this path just for the hell of it, correct?”

You nodded dumbfoundedly as speech eluded you. His candor was definitely out of this world, and he seemed to not care as he only stared right at you.

“Now,” he whispered before tucking your hair behind your ear. “Now I feel at peace. The annoying pain finally stops.”

What pain?!

Before you could even ask him to elaborate, his head leaned on your shoulder.

“Daepyonim Kim-“

“Just stay like this for a while. I didn’t get to sleep, my love,” he answered in his hoarse voice, his eyes already closed as he dozed off. You didn’t know why you let him. It absolutely was not due to the fact that you felt your heart skipped a beat when he laid his head on your shoulder. Nope.

You managed to run away from Taehyung once the two of you arrived at the company, simply by practicing your non-existent ninja moves and awkwardly slipping out of the elevator just as the doors closed, his face an image of betrayal and panic. You breathed a sigh of relief before running out of the building. You still had an hour before you were needed, you for sure wouldn’t spend it inside that establishment or you would end up crying.

You were focused on your phone as you read real life stories of love potions. The sharing of stories kept on increasingly became more serious and scarier. You had yet to find a post about antidote. You weren’t 100% set on it being real, but the way Taehyung acted today was not right.

For heaven’s sake, the man barely said any word to you for the whole year you worked in their company. He had only looked at you before, and now he was outright going to you. But maybe, the other CEOs weren’t affected?

It was a hopeful thought, and you felt yourself smile a little- which of course vanished just as quickly when you looked up from your seat in the coffee shop to see Park Jimin sitting in front of you. You didn’t even know how he moved so smoothly and quietly. He was smiling at you, his head tilted to the side. His blonde hair stood out as the sunlight hit his hair perfectly.

“Good morning, beautiful!”

“Daepyonim Park,” you gasped both at shock and well, his beauty. His smile turned wider before he tried to hide it as he sipped from his coffee cup.

“Just Jimin, little one. I presume Taehyung- the bastard who will soon be six feet underground for what he did, by the way- already went to see you?”

You nodded, “He did…”

He scrunched his nose before resting his chin on his hand as he leaned into you. His pouty lips were protruding even more as he looked over his long lashes to you. My God, this man was so charming and his movements seemed so sensual. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you finally, finally understood your coworker who had a major crush on him for years based on one interaction.

“He’s so bad, my love. Did he tell you that he drained all our cars’ gas tank at two in the morning?” he asked in a conversational manner as though it didn’t faze him. His other hand reached to yours, slowly entangling them together and giggling a little at the slight size difference. He found them perfect and cute.

God, you were so endearing, he thought to himself.

“He did what?!”

He nodded slightly, holding your hand up to inspect further before quietly taking a picture of your clasped hands. You were so out of it that you just let it be.

“What Taehyung failed to account for was the existence of taxis. He only managed to anger six men, so good luck to him today. But enough about him,” he stated before looking into your eyes. Being the sole focus of Jimin was just too much, you thought. He was bigger than life, and his inherent appeal was palpable that even girls around the coffee shop kept on stealing glances on him. “I miss you so much today that my heart and head hurt so much, yeobo. I thought that I was going to die if I don’t see you.”

Your brows furrowed in concern before pulling your hand from him and you could have sworn you heard him whimpered. You laid the back of your hand on his forehead, trying to see whether he had fever today. He felt fine, you concluded, as you looked closer to see if he looked sick.

Maybe the ‘love potion’ caused these symptoms? Taehyung did mention experiencing pain.

You managed to escape from Park Jimin when he insisted on buying you pastries, and you in turn ran to the exit like your life depended on it. And perhaps, it did because you were running late. You only had fifteen minutes and the coffee shop you went to was not fifteen-minute away from the office. You were running like a lunatic, waving at the taxi that finally took pity on you. You were about to open the door when a large and tattooed hand slammed it shut.

You looked up in anger, ready to berate the man who did such a rude gesture when you recognized who it was.

Right then and there, and despite it being barely eight in the morning, you already met the entirety of maknae line. Jeon Jungkook looked like a badass with his all-black getup, his hands wrapped in motorcycle gloves, and his hair carelessly falling around his face. Despite all that, he looked innocent with the way he grinned at you, his nose all scrunched up when he greeted you.

“I’ll give you a ride, noona. Come on,” he stated as he gestured at the black motorcycle haphazardly parked on the side. You had never ridden one, and you didn’t want to start now. On the other hand, the taxi was already driving away and you could only look at it with longing.

You decided that you could afford being late just this once instead of riding with him. You were shaking your head.

“But you’re going to be late. I’m going there, too, so it’s no bother if that’s what you’re thinking-“

“No it’s just… I like to walk during the mornings…really.”

He frowned at you as he removed his gloves, “Didn’t you read the memo about tardiness, Y/N?”

“What memo?”

He was typing rapidly on his phone, “About how there would be 50% deduction of the salary should there be any tardiness this month…didn’t you know?” he asked innocently as he finished typing, his doe eyes trained on yours. Coincidentally, the moment he pocketed his phone was the moment your phone dinged.

“I don’t think that’s legal, though. I haven’t received the memo-“

You looked down at your phone, and there it was, an email about that. How could it only reach you now?!

You looked up in panic, and he looked at you with a hint of satisfaction before covering it with an innocent smile. “Shall we? I promise I don’t bite.” Yet.

He drove like a lunatic and you thought that you would really rather be late than experience a thrill such as this. Of course, it was only natural that you didn’t want to put your arms around him. You technically didn’t know him at a personal level and Jungkook did know that.

So, of course, like the intelligent man that he was, he only did the thing that made sense. He sped up, and he chuckled as your adorable screams reached his ears. Your equally lovely arms were now wrapped around him as they should always be and for once since yesterday, the ache in his heart eased. He felt at peace.

He giggled when you finally realized that this was not the path to the office, but in his mind, his other hyungs already got to spend time with you. Shouldn’t he too?

Jungkook helped you get off his bike, his eyes closely watching your expressions as you took the scenery around you. It was quiet despite the busy world below. The overlooking garden he brought you to was enchanting and it remained untouched by the quick-pacing world below. Jungkook couldn’t help but mirror your smile.

“It’s even more beautiful at night, noona. I come here when things get quite overwhelming.”

You turned to him as the two of you sat down. He had laid his leather jacket for you to sat on, a true gentleman you would think if only you weren’t aware that he drank the potion. “The golden maknae gets overwhelmed, too?”

He scrunched his nose at you before softly pinching your nose, “Of course, I do. I’m only human. I was trained when I was only thirteen…it gets too much sometimes. But it’s okay. I like it, and I like the hyungs, too. That’s why I cannot get mad at Tae.”

“He didn’t just empty the gas tank, but he also hid the keys. For added measure, he deflated my tire. He only did that to me. Should I be mad, little one?” he asked with the perpetual charming and shy smile on his face. “Ahh, but I cannot stay mad at him. I do understand him.”

“You do?”

He nodded eagerly, “I would have done the same thing if only he didn’t do it first. You do make us crazy, little one. Why is that?”

It was an eventful morning, and you weren’t foolish enough to think that the rest of your day would be any different. You friend was still yet to be found as she was preoccupied with researching for further information about that potion, which she should have done before giving it to you!

You sighed for the million time as you stared at your food. You were sitting alone in the company’s cafeteria as you were eating your late lunch. The workload was just too much today despite Kim Namjoon’s departmentwide directive that the revision would be presented the following month. Your superiors did find it peculiar and thought that the head CEO was simply playing with them and that he would cruelly demand the output the next day. See, even his reputation preceded him, you thought. It wasn’t in his nature to be lenient when it came to deadlines.

The sudden gentle thud of food a lunch box made you jumped from your seat, your eyes widening as you saw that it was none other than the eldest of the CEOs, Kim Seokjin. Disbelief held you captive. It was an unexpected sight – the CEO, whose tailored suits and polished demeanor spoke of boardroom authority, now standing before you with a container of something that smelled absolutely delicious.

He smiled at you as he took the empty seat in front of you. He busied himself with laying and opening the numerous food containers in front of you. Your eyes widened at all the homecooked meals in front of you.

“I got up at four in the morning to prepare all these. I still don’t know what your favorites are, but we’ll figure it out as we go, right?” he asked, busying himself with putting food on your plate. “Always eat on time, little one. It’s bad to skip meals.”

“W-why did you cook all these?”

He blinked owlishly at your question; surprise written on his face. “Well, my love, I couldn’t sleep and I felt this stabbing pain by the mere thought that you weren’t eating enough.”

“You don’t have to do that-“

“So from now on, I decided that I’ll always cook for you,” he declared strongly before lifting his chopsticks with vegetables to your mouth. Suddenly, you felt eyes on you.

How could you forget that you were in the company?! Your head turned, looking at the employees who were all watching your interaction with the unobtainable CEO. They were whispering and you knew by the end of the hour, everyone in the company would know of this. How could you live once they had the antidote? You could already hear the rumors about how you were just for their entertainment once they tossed you aside.

You were about to stand up when Seokjin gently gripped your chin. He turned you to him, his beautiful eyes willing you to listen to him. “Don’t mind them, little love. Pay attention to me only. Nothing and no one matter outside us, okay?”

It wasn’t okay because none of this was real. On the other hand, the meal tasted heavenly…

---

If they weren’t going to get sick, you definitely would. You felt like you would collapse any moment.

The amount of stress was taking a toll on you. You felt like you needed to be on your guard, lest another CEO would ambush you. You were just human! And they all looked like they stepped out of a photoshoot, or that they were ethereal beings that decided to go down on the mortal realms. The way they were showering you with attention and declaring their attraction to you and the way they said that not being with you felt like a stabbing pain in their hearts were all getting to you, damn it!

You were just a girl.

And once this all ended, you were dreading to think of what would be left of you now that you saw them on a closer and more personal level. You wanted to think that this couldn’t get any worse, but it did as you read the most elusive of the CEOs’ email to you.

Hi, my little one,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to request your presence at a meeting in my office to discuss my growing feelings for you today at 2:00 pm. Your insights and expertise on this matter would be highly valuable to the discussion, and I believe your input will contribute significantly to our objectives of being together forever and ever.

Thank you in advance for your cooperation, and I look forward to our discussion.

Best regards,

CEO Min Yoongi

He had this faraway look on his face when you were led by his secretary in his office. His hands were in his pocket as he looked at the bustling city from his floor to ceiling window. His black long hair was sleeked back, revealing his stoic face. The dark suit he was wearing did nothing but compliment his form. You had never noticed how broad his shoulders were until now.

He looked like he was not paying attention, yet he turned around the moment that the door closed behind you. Min Yoongi looked at you for a moment too long that you started to shift uncomfortably. His attention was just too much, and you couldn’t act like you were no longer affected by any of it.

And from the looks of it, the moment you blushed was the exact moment his face softened. He gestured for you to take the seat in front of his desk. He mirrored your movement, now sitting on his expensive swivel chair. He clasped his hands and rested them on the mahogany table.

“Daepyonim Min-“

He held his finger up, asking for your silence before spilling what you thought to be both outrageous and the most beautiful and heartfelt thing anyone had ever said to you in this life. “You’re beautiful, and not just in the way that you look. No. You’re beautiful in the way that the sun finally shines after a month of storms; you’re beautiful in the way that the waves keep on going back to the shore even after they were pushed away in the desire to kiss the sand; you’re beautiful in the way that flowers bloom after the unforgiving winter coldness. And that is why I’m giving you Samsung stocks.”

Confusion settled over you like a fog. You had almost melted from what felt like a poetry when he once again brought up his stocks idea from last night.

“I-I really don’t need Samsung stocks, Daepyonim Min…”

He looked aghast at your statement, before reaching over the table and holding your hand in his particularly large ones. “Call me Yoongi, my love. Or better yet, call me your other half,” he implored you and he only let go when you nodded in confusion.

“Also, nonsense! Everyone needs that stock, little one. Besides, nothing speaks more about my love for you than giving you all my Samsung stocks. And above and beyond, it filled me with this immense pain knowing that you’re just out there not owning any of their stocks. I couldn’t breathe with the mere thought of you going without.”

“Excuse me?”

And with a stoic face, he said, “Congratulations, little one. You’re now a millionaire."

At six in the evening, the head CEO finally made an appearance. You did find it peculiar that you had a fairly quiet afternoon after meeting with Yoongi. Your brows were pinched together as you were lost in thought when the elevator opened, revealing the head CEO. He had yet to notice you, his large and imposing form leaning against the side of the elevator. His eyes were close. You noticed that his white sleeves were already folded, his tie already loosened as his black suit laid on his thick forearms.

Kim Namjoon was the image of weariness, and you thought he looked quite pale. Your growing concern for him was what made you stepped inside the lift rather than running away yet again. The sound of your heels as you stepped in was the only sound in the elevator. You pressed for the ground floor and you saw that the floor for basement three was already pressed. Perhaps, the head CEO was going home now. Now that you were standing almost next to him, you only further affirmed how small you were next to him. He was already larger than life, and the way he always held himself exuded confidence made him more striking…and manly in your eyes.

The ride was fairly quiet, and through it all, he had his eyes closed. You kept on stealing glances, thinking that maybe among the other CEOs, he took in the least amount of potion. You felt lighter with that thought. At least you only had five men you needed to find the antidote for. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen the sunshine of the group, Jung Hoseok yet.

The elevator dinged, signifying your floor. You had taken merely a step when you felt a large hand completely encircling your wrist, effectively stopping you from leaving. You automatically turned, startled to find him with his eyes trained on you. He looked way too alert for someone who had his eyes closed for the past minute. You gasped when he pulled you closer to him as he pressed the close button.

“Daepyonim Kim,” you called him as you craned your neck to look at his draconic eyes.

“Leaving so soon?" he asked, his deep voice carrying a subtle mix of amusement and curiosity.

You hesitated, the words tumbling out of your mouth as he caught you off guard. “I... uh, yes. I was heading to the lobby. I’m about to leave for the night," you stammered, attempting to regain composure.

A playful smile curved his lips as he completely blocked the exit. leaned against the elevator frame, effectively blocking your exit, which sounded successful as the door closed. “I missed you,” he breathed as he took you in, his thumb gently running over the inside of your wrist as though touching you brought him immense comfort. “A lot. It was hell without seeing you the whole day.”

You blinked owlishly and you wanted nothing but to hide your face from the intensity of his gaze, but he wouldn’t let you. Instead, he smiled so gently at you, the dents on his cheeks making an appearance which made him more charismatic that you couldn’t say no when he told you that he would take you home.

But he didn’t exactly say which home because you ended up in what turned out to be the CEOs’ huge ass mansion. Your eyes roamed around the mansion, the high ceilings and the fancy marble flooring all screamed wealth that you didn’t even dare of dreaming to have. He confidently led you to what appeared to be a grand dining room. The room bathed in the soft, flickering glow of candlelight, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. The delicate flames danced gracefully, creating patterns of light and shadow that played across the table. The air carried the subtle fragrance of the candles, a mix of vanilla and subtle hints of lavender.

The dining table was adorned with crisp, white linen, and the flickering candles were nestled in elegant holders, their glow reflecting off polished silverware and crystal glasses. Each flame seemed to dance in harmony with the gentle melody playing in the background, creating a soothing symphony that enveloped the space.

He pulled a chair for you, and instead of sitting across from you, he sat beside you. He chuckled lowly when he caught your questioning eyes, “I have been apart from you for so long today, little one. I need this to feel alive.”

You straightened up in vigilance that the other CEOs would show up. “Are the others here, too?”

He looked at you like you said something funny. The chef he hired today gently laid all the dishes he made, explaining about each dish before wishing the two of you an enjoyable night. Namjoon told you that he wouldn’t feed you any of the food he made unless he enrolled himself in a culinary school first, hence the chef. He waited for the chef to leave before turning his full attention to you.

“I shipped them off to Antartica.”

“You what?!”

“I simply said we were flying to Japan for a quick meeting. They believed. I lied. End of. So anyway, how many children do you think we should have?”

My God, you wanted so bad to lay on your bed and sleep the whole night. You though about filing for sick leave tomorrow, you were long overdue for a leave, anyway. Kim Namjoon was kind enough to drop you off. However, it was only after you promised him that you would talk about possible schools for your future children that he let you go.

On the other hand, your friend finally called and you were sorely disappointed to know more about what she gathered today. Her grandmother had to ask the other folks that lived in the mountain about your situation and it somehow appalled you that you weren’t the first to experience this.

It was, at the same time, sad to see people resort to this from loneliness.

Was an artificial, forced love and companionship better than being alone?

There were both an instant and quite a long-term effect of the potion, she said. The instant was mostly upon ingesting the liquid. Once they locked eyes with the owner of the potion which so happened to be you since she technically gifted it to you, then the immense attraction would start. You thought that this explained why the seven of them all acted that way in the conference room.

The long-term effects were what caused you to groan all the way up to your apartment. And right then and there, you saw what the long-term effects were. As you trudged up to your apartment, you felt the exhaustion to your very bones. You were looking forward to a hot shower in an effort to wash away the problems that stemmed from a simple prank when you saw who was leaning against your front door.

The last of the CEO, Jung Hoseok, was leaning against the door, his head bowed down as he clutched his heart. He looked like he was in unfathomable pain, his lips almost the shade of white. And your friend’s words echoed in your mind.

‘Prolonged non-contact with the object of their desires will cause them to be physically ill.’

You hurried up to him, holding his shoulders as you looked at him. You were crouched down in front of him, peeking up at his pained face.

“S-sir, are you okay?”

His chest tightened, his face contorted, a mask of agony etched with lines of distress. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, evidence of the intense effort to draw in even the smallest amount of air. The hallway fell silent, save for the raspy, labored breaths that escaped him.

‘They may try to fight the unexplainable feelings they have, and this will only cause them harm. In fact, if they go without you for a long period of time, their body will suffer for a long time.’

“Hoseok? Can you hear me? I’ll call for help, okay?” you tried to make yourself sound calm for his sake, but seeing him struggling, desperate to gasp for air was making you panic. Your negligence did this, you thought. You should have made sure that you were holding the right tumbler that day.

You were about to turn to call for help when you felt a hand pulled you closer, and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. He was still breathing hard, but you noticed that the shallow breathings were farther and apart as though he could finally breath. The moment you touched him, the moment you looked into his eyes was the exact moment that a wave of relief swept over him as the oppressive grip on his chest began to loosen. The moment that you called his name was the moment that the torment that had shackled his every breath gradually lifted, replaced by the sweet release of a deep, calming respiration.

“Don’t leave me.”

‘However, every interaction with you would only make their attraction grow further.’

You placed a glass of water in front of the man who now looked perfectly fine as though he wasn’t fighting for his very life outside your apartment. He was offering you reassuring smiles as he gently watched you. He was surrounded by sacks of expensive cat food, toys, and vitamins. And of course, your cat was only too happy with them, evident by the excessive purring he was emitting as he climbed on the CEO’s lap.

“I did hear that you have an adorable son int the form of a cat,” he started as he petted your spoiled cat. “As his future daddy, I would like to provide for him as early as now.”

You didn’t pay attention to whatever he was saying, and instead, you sat next to him to see if he was really fine. The paleness was now exchanged by a healthy look on skin. It was as though that didn’t happen.

“Hoseok, listen…the reason that you are all acting this way to me, the girl you didn’t even notice before this, was because-“

“Because of that drink, right?” he interrupted you, wearing a soft smile that conveyed he harbored no anger.

“Y-you know…”

He nodded before tilting his head, “I do. It’s weird, as you said. The thing is, all of us suspects the same thing. You, little one, only confirmed it.”

“I didn’t mean for any of these to happen-“

The soft look he had was now dropped, revealing the strict CEO that everyone knew him to be. “Regardless, little one. You need to take responsibility over your actions.”

“H-how?”

“You’re going to live with us until all of this fades. You’re going to take responsibility over us, my love.”

Part 2

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c0llisiion · 25 days

Text

SIN FOR ME — J.JK

Pairing : jeon jungkook + f!reader

Genre : smut

★: request, npr , cnc , older!jk , boyfriendsdad!jk , cheating, pwp , named!bf , misunderstandings , slight manipulation, unprotected sex at the beginning, protected sex later on , bigdick!jk , coming on body , cum eating , dirty talk , name calling/nicknames, slight angst — lmk if i missed any!

W/C: 2,919

A/N: thank you to pookie for requesting this!! I had a hard time with the plot 😭✋ but i had fun! Thank you sm for requesting! And also sorry 4 going m.i.a i have js been so off 👎👎🤧🤧🥺🥺 anyways enjoy!!

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

[edited ver.]

Another day came to an end. A bad end. You were cuddled up with your boyfriend, watching whatever popped up first on your recommended shows. You were hoping to get some action tonight, as it’s been a while since you guys had sex. 2 months, to be exact. You were frustrated, of course. He hasn’t touched you or done anything to you for two months. That's the longest you have gone without sex. You tried so hard to push away the negative thoughts. Convincing yourself that he was just busy and tired and definitely not fucking some other bitch.

His parents wouldn’t be coming back home for a couple of hours since his dad is always busy and barely comes home, and his mom is most probably out with another broad. So You tried getting him in the mood. Wearing just a tee and some ck thongs. Rubbing against him. Kissing his neck. But nothing seemed to work. He kept pushing you away. ‘Not now.’ ‘Im not in the mood’ ‘im too tired, not today.’ were just coming out of his mouth like a broken record. But you still didn’t give up! You were determined, but before that- “im gonna go sleep.” You looked up at him, confused. “What?” “Im tired, alright? Im gonna go to bed; you can continue watching your stupid show by yourself.” There was venom laced in his words. It hurt you. Your heart sank. He pushed you away before walking up the stairs. You were trying to hold back your tears. How could he do this to you? You scoff. “Seriously? You’re really not even going to ask me to join you?” Your boyfriend turned around and stared at you blankly. “No. I want some peace and space. Do whatever the hell you want.” And with that, he walked away. You could hear his loud footsteps descend before a loud slam took over.

You huff and try not to cry. It was too overwhelming for you, and you couldn’t help but think about the possibility that he was probably seeing someone else, or else why would he act like this? The waterworks started pouring slowly as you thought about the memories you made with him. Your soft sobs echoed throughout the empty, dark, and cold living space.

————————————————————————

He was mad. So mad. Finding out that his company just fell into a major controversy after all he worked for was not the cherry on top. Jungkook hastily unlocked his house’s door. It was unusually dark. The only light illuminating the space was the soft kitchen light, which his dumbass son forgot to turn off. He dropped his case and trenchcoat by the door before kicking off his shoes and walked further into his home. He noticed a small figure face-down on the couch, sleeping.

You were sleeping on your stomach, your head tucked in your forearm, and your hair covered your face. Your shirt was slightly rolled up, and your ass was on full display. Jungkook walked over and took a good look at your body. He needed something to pour his anger into, and so, assuming that it was his wife, he loosened his tie and sat where your foot rested. His hand went up your thighs before resting on your plump ass, cold fingers fondling with the soft flesh. He grabbed a handful before giving your ass a soft slap. He shuffled to hover over you. His hand cupped your pussy. Palm pushing into the wet hole, dampening your underwear. “…Gonna fuck you, okay, pretty? Just stay still f’ me..” His voice was low and deep. He was still under the impression that it was his wife. Jungkook’s fingers hooked around your underwear before pulling it to the side, exposing your bare cunt. He couldn’t see much, but he noticed how his ‘wife’s’ pussy was glistening in the dark. He circled your entrance with slow movements. Your cunny was getting wet at a quick rate. He swallowed thickly at the soft, warm feeling. Without wasting much time, he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants along with his boxers.

Jungkook was rock hard. His tip glowed a deep red, and pre-cum was already dripping down his slit. Using his strong hands, he gently shifted your position so your ass was up in the air. He placed a couch pillow under your abdomen so you could lay comfortably. He hunched over your small frame, his hand gliding his aching tip over your glossy slit. He breathed heavily. It felt too good. Jungkook slowly started pushing himself in. He was struggling. It was easy to slip inside his wife, but this time? It seemed different. But familiar. Still, he continued moving forward. Maybe some miracle had happened to his wife. Who knows. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched your puffy lips swallow his hard length. You were still in deep sleep. The long crying session took a toll on your energy, so you were not really aware of what was happening to your body. Jungkook's breath gets caught in his throat as he finally stuffs you full. Your pussy clenching around his length unknowingly.

Jungkook started moving. Rolling his hips gently. He threw his head back at how your sweet cunny felt around his length. It was hard to believe that it was his wife. You felt warmer. Softer. And, of course, much tighter. Nothing compared to his wife. His eyes were squeezed shut, and short, heavy breaths left his lips as you continued taking him in. His hands grasped your plush hips, gripping the flesh tightly.

“Mmf-“ you let out a soft whine. Jungkook's tight grasp was enough to give you a bit of consciousness. Soft gasps escaped your lips at every thrust. Your stomach felt weird, and your body was getting hot. You were starting to sweat. “Junwoo… feels good…” you mumbled in your sleep. You felt something penetrating your sopping walls and immediately thought that it was your boyfriend. Maybe he felt bad and decided to finally give in.

Jungkook's heart dropped. No way. There's no way. His eyes went wide when you mumbled his son’s name. With shaky hands, Jungkook leaned forward and pushed the hair off of your face. Shock and terror spread all over his body. He stared down at you. His hand is still resting on your cheek. You were mumbling incoherently. You nudged your face into his palm. “Keep..going.. please.” You murmured. Jungkook gulped. He didn’t know what to do. He was fucking his son’s girlfriend! His thumb brushed the side of your cheek. He felt bad for you. He knew about the fact that his idiot son had been cheating on you for the past 3 months. How could he cheat on such a precious piece? He had to treat you right, even if it was wrong.

You were writhing and squirming under his huge build. Consciousness was starting to hit you. Your body felt hot and uneasy. The feeling was something you had never felt before. It was so much better than what junwoo was giving you. It was suspicious. You slowly lifted your head up, wanting to turn around and see ‘your boyfriend’. Jungkook immediately stopped and pulled out. He was still rock hard, and his dick hit his abdomen with a loud -thump-. He gulped heavily. You tuck your hair behind your ears and glance at the man who was fucking into you senseless.

“What the fuck!!!!!” You immediately pushed yourself away from him. Cramming yourself in the corner of his Fendi Casa sofa, your thighs shut together. Your eyes first landed on his twitching cock. Oh, it was big. Bigger than his son’s. It was leaking too, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself getting wetter. It was so wrong. So, so wrong. You immediately come out of a trance and look at the man in front of you. His shirt was open, revealing his built body. “I c-can explain-“Jungkook stuttered. “What the fuck mr.jeon???????? How could you just do that to me???” Jungkook's hands were up in defense. “It’s not what you think, y/n. I was mistaken too.” “Mistaken???? You just raw-dogged me???. You are fucking your son’s girlfriend!!!” Jungkook swallowed hard before looking at you with his dark eyes. “Like it’s not the first time i touched you. Be for real right now, y/n” he rolled his eyes at your reaction. “Yeah! Touched. You have only TOUCHED, me. Its a big difference mr.jeon!” It was true that you both fooled around here and there but that was before you started dating junwoo. And everything ended after you confirmed your relationship with his son who was once your bestfriend.

He was hard af and you felt too good to stop. So there had to be some way to get you convinced. It was about time he told you about his son’s double life. “Look. There’s something you should know. Your boyfriend or my son has been cheating on you.” He did not want to beat around the bush and just dropped the bomb. Your heart shattered, and you felt lightheaded. Your eyes went wide at Jungkook’s claims. You were too stunned to speak and just stared at him. It seemed like it had worked, which prompted him to slowly hover over you, pushing you down softly. “And I know about the fact that my whore of a wife has been cheating on me every day." He looked down and watched as his calloused fingers ran up the soft rolls of your abdomen before making eye contact with you again. “You need this, y/n.. we both need this…” the last 4 words came out in a hush. His words were so sinister, and he had a shit-eating grin on his face as he watched you process the information. You trembled under his frame. Oh, you definitely needed it. You shook your head before grabbing Jungkook's loose collar and pulling him into a heated kiss. If your now ex boyfriend cheated on you? Might as well start fucking his dad again for revenge.

Jungkook giggled into the kiss and kissed you back. His hand found the back of your head before tightly gripping your soft hair. You whined into his mouth as it started to hurt. Jungkook kissed you further. His tongue tasting the insides of your mouth. He ripped your underwear, making you gasp and whine. “I will get you new ones, pretty, dw” he mumbled into the kiss with a smirk. His dick was rubbing against your bare pussy, making you leak. His hips moved incoherently. He loved the feeling of your wet pussy lip’s coating his length. Jungkook started aligning himself with your entrance, but before he could shove it in, you stopped him. You broke off the intense kiss. A string of saliva connected your lips to his. Jung Kook looked at you in concern. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You gulped before speaking up. “Protection… mr.Jeon.” You avoided eye contact with him as he narrowed his eyes at you. He let out a soft chortle before reaching down and taking his wallet from his discarded pants.

He pulled out a condom from one of the sleeves before chucking the wallet away. He was sitting on his heels and looked at you with a smirk. “Put it on for me, darling..” You nodded shyly as you sat up a bit and took the condom from his hands. You slowly ripped the blue plastic wrapping and pulled it out, all while innocently staring up at him. Your shaky hands gripped the base of his cock, giving it a slight squeeze before focusing on pushing the rubber down his huge dick. Jung Kook watched you with pure lust in his eyes. His hand went to the back of your head before forcefully making you look at him, causing you to whimper at the sudden action. “I didn’t know you were such a good girl, y/n..” He gave you a reassuring smile before pulling you to him. Your legs rested on his thighs, and his cock rested on your stomach. The length sat comfortably on your plush tummy. “Gonna take me all, baby? Can you do that for me?” You nodded vigorously before slowly moving your hips on his cock for some stimulation. He chuckled at your reaction and hissed as he entered you slowly. now savoring each and every inch of your sweet pussy. You whimpered as you finally felt how big he was. It still hurt, even though he had already dicked you down.

You stared at Jungkook's face, your eyebrows knit together and eyes swelling up with tears, your lips bitten down hard as you watched Jungkook's face contort in pleasure. Sweat dripped down his body, and soft grunts left his mouth as he inched inside you more. His eyes quickly glanced at yours, and he internally fumbled at your expression. Knowing that he was fucking you was making this experience even better.

With a quick thrust, he was fully into you. His tip kissing your spongy spot. Your breath was unsteady and faltering as he had you filled to the brim. His fingers were hooked under your chin and you lifted your face slightly so you could meet his gaze. “Can i?” He asked you gently with a reassuring smile. You nodded at his words before grabbing onto his shoulders for stability. Jungkook's hands held onto your waist, keeping you in place. His hips started moving. Each thrust made him grunt loudly. His pace increased as it got easier to move inside you. Your gummy walls were spasming around his length, and he could feel your warmth. Your both eyes were fixated on the way his dick went in and out of you. His cock would form a small bulge in your lower abdomen every time he pushed into you. “You see that baby? You’re taking me in so well… fuck-“ he was cut off as your pussy clenched. You let out a whine at his words “s-sir.. faster p-please..”

That was all Jungkook needed to hear for him to go absolutely feral on you. The way you begged with that voice sent blood rushing straight to his cock. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to go faster? I will give anything you ask, baby..” His thrusts got harder and faster. You gripped his shoulders tight, and your eyes rolled back as Jungkook hit your sweet spot perfectly. Sounds of wet skin slapping against each other were echoing throughout the whole area. Your moans are starting to get increasingly louder. Jungkooks quickly covered your mouth before leaning down and whispering into your ears. "don't want your boyfriend to hear how much I'm making you feel good, wouldn’t ya?” Tears streamed down your face as his dick abused your hole. Jungkook left wet kisses and purple hickeys on the sides of your neck, going lower and lower. You wrapped your hands around his neck and your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to your body as you writhed and twitched in pleasure. Jungkook's cock was ruining your pussy

“Fuck-“ Jungkook's voice got caught in his throat as you clenched around him again. He savoured the warm feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock. “Taking me so well little girl…” he breathed into your ear in a whisper. Whines after whines left your mouth. His girthy cock, grazing your gummy, warm walls. The grip on your hips got tighter, enough to form visible bruises.

His thrusts were quick and sharp, and it has you seeing stars. You could feel the knot in your stomach reach its peak. He grunted into your neck and lifted his head up to look at you. “Gonna cum pretty? Gonna make a little mess for me?” You nodded and whined as his hand left your mouth and reached down to play with your puffy clit. You choked as he started flicking your sensitive nub. “Make a huge mess for me.. I will make sure my idiot son cleans it up..” he gave you a wink before focusing on helping you reach your orgasm. He was almost close too. His grip on your waist tightened, and he continued pounding into you.

“fuckkk!!!!” Your vision went blurry as you came all over his lower body. Streams of clear liquid coated the couch and his abdomen. Jungkook gawked at the sight, and he was so close to cumming. He quickly pulled out of you before removing the condom. His hand wrapped around his throbbing length, and he started jerking himself off. His head thrown back and mouth agape. “L-look at me baby..” he whispered, and you obeyed. Looking up at him through your dazed state. Eyes glossy, and your face was covered in a thin layer of sheen as you slowly came down from your high. Jungkook opened his eyes, looked at you once, and busted all over your body. Some of his cum even reached your face. A load of his creamy white cum never seemed to stop pouring out of his dick. Your stomach and shirt were stained with the thick liquid. You quickly wiped it off your face, licking it off your fingers as you stared into his eyes with a smirk. Jungkook let out a soft chuckle before reaching down to grab your face so he could kiss you. His lips met yours again, but this time it was more gentle. More passionate. He could taste himself on your lips. “Dirty little girl.“

A/N: thank you for reading!!! I was not rlly sure abt the topic because its the first time i actually wrote a cnc fic w plot 😭🧍‍♀️but i hope it was upto par!! Also if it seems like the plot gets lost somewhere please ignore 💀✋😨

Masterlist <3

#౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ yun’s silly fics #bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts army #bts fanfic #bts headcanons #bts scenarios #taehyung smut #jungkook headcanons #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook reaction #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook

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mrcleanheichou · 2 years

Text

Wolves are (NOT) Scary Chapter 11

Pairing: Werewolf!BTS X Female human reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: Talks about slipping a substance into another person’s drink unknowingly. I do feel bad about that being a major plot point and it that it’s really not ok so I’m very sorry if it may be triggering.

Word count: 1,233

Summary: All Y/N wants to do is find her creativity and motivation but she finds 7 werewolves instead.

Author note: Hi guys! This is where the story is going to actually start getting to the plot. It’s all uphill from here!! Both in the past and present setting.

Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 // Chapter 12

Taglist: @dustyinkpages @thickemadame @moonlitehunter @thedarkwinterrose @momoriki @iistrangers @openup-yourmind @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @lovelyseokjinnie @scuzmunkie @bjoriis @maddypool31 @tfkp0p @blubearxy @stealth-liberal @potaetopic

Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 // Chapter 12

~3 years ago~

Ryujin’s party was gonna start in 20 minutes and the bakery was bustling with nervous energy. Yuna was nicer than most witches but she still can be petty. Petty in the sense that she may decide against helping them if they’re late. Especially if her easily irritated familiar had any say on the matter.

It was all hand’s on deck putting boxes of cupcakes into the back of Jungkook’s truck and into the trunk of Hobi and Jin’s cars. Jin took the lead making sure all the flavors were labeled correctly and grouped together. He did not allow Namjoon to help pack them in because they could not afford for their clumsy alpha to potentially screw things up.

“Knock it off, you’re gonna drop those trays.” Hobi said sternly to the two youngest wolves who were both pretending to be waiters at a fancy restaurant and balancing trays with one hand. Jungkook balanced one in both of his hands.

Tae pouted and gave his tray to Jin as Jungkook grumbled under his breath, “We weren’t going to drop them.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finding parking on the street for three vehicles was difficult, the whole normally quiet block was packed with cars.

“Hmm, I thought witches traveled on brooms.” Yoongi wondered a loud touching his chin. Jin laughed his windshield wiper laugh behind him as he popped his car’s trunk.

Namjoon also stared at the cars pondering the conundrum, “Would a broom closest count as a parking lot?”

“I’ve found that leather seats are much more comfortable.” An amused sounding voice sounded right in Namjoon’s ear causing him to jump. She was definitely not there a second ago.

“What the hell?” Jimin said clutching a hand to his chest staring at the strange woman cloaked in a blood red lace corset dress who just smiled sweetly back at him. “Why can’t you witches be normal?”

“Who said you mutts were normal?” A woman with brown bunny ears wearing only a light blue collar snarked back to the silver haired man. He was going to come up with another comeback but he was having trouble when he noticed the woman’s lack of clothing.

“Do you people not own clothes? Why are your familiars always naked?” Taehyung piped up getting out of the passenger seat of Hobi’s car.

“My eye’s are up here, Fido” She smirked at Jimin when she noticed him staring at her breasts before he growled and turned his head as if he wasn’t looking.

“Where’s Yuna?” Namjoon interrupted.

“She’s busy. My name’s Jihyo and this is Nayeon.” The witch said before telling everyone to step back. When the wolves reluctantly stepped away from their cars Jihyo snapped her fingers and two trolley carts ,that looked like old fancy hotel carts that bellhops would use, appeared out of thin air. Then with a flick of her wrist all the boxes from inside Jin’s trunk started floating up and stacking themselves perfectly onto one of them. Then Hobi’s trunk opened when she pointed at it and the same thing happened again. Like clockwork all of the boxes from Jungkook’s truck and the box that he was holding floated to join the others. The sudden force yanking the box from his hands surprised him causing him to yelp.

The whole pack stood there in awe at the magic show they just witnessed until Yoongi piped up breaking the trance they were all in. “Wow, you didn’t even have to say Wingardium Leviosa.”

“Keep it up and I won’t give you the potion.” Jihyo frowned at him.

“The potion? Yuna told us that she needed to go get supplies to make it and it needed to ferment.” Hobi stated cocking his head like a confused puppy.

“Yes, that is true but luckily for you I happened to have left overs of one of the potions she promised you.” Jihyo once again snapped her fingers and with a magical poof of blue smoke a small glass bottle appeared. “This is ‘accept me’ potion.”

“You could give this to someone and tell them the sky was green and they’d accept that without arguing.” Nayeon pointed at the floating bottle.

Jihyo moved her hand in a ‘shooing’ motion and the bottle moved to Namjoon. The bright green liquid sloshed around with a wine bottle-esque cork to keep it inside. He reached out to grab it but Yoongi got it before he could.

“You need to make sure you use it all at once, in a beverage is the best option. Once you give it you have 24 hours to use it to it’s strongest ability. After that it starts to weaken and you have less of a chance of being able to relay the information you seek to give. You can always use another batch if you mess up but if you already told your little girlfriend what you are and she runs away you can’t magically make her forget her fear and simply erase the memory. So be smart and use it wisely.”

~Present Day~

The most noticeable thing of this train station was the huge gold water fountain that greeted you as soon as you walked up the stairs from the boarding platform. It was of a beautiful woman sitting on the edge of a waterfall surrounded by wolves at the bottom. You knew immediately that it was to pay tribute to the Lunar Goddess, the deity all werewolves pay respect to. Things like this were usually only seen at temples deep in the woods where humans don’t go. The existence of werewolves is still very much a myth in the normal world and will remain to be until the end of time if the council has any say. Only a small amount of humans know and it’s because they’re fated to be pack mates. So seeing that so out in the open cemented the fact that you’re now in a completely different world, making this nightmare feel so much more real.

In your reverie you failed to notice the atmosphere change at first when two huge black wolves approached. A thick feeling of authority that felt much stronger than anytime Namjoon flexed his alpha power wrapped itself around you. You normally couldn’t feel it when he did that but this feeling managed to be so strong even your mere human senses could feel the danger radiating off them.

One of them made it a point to stare you in the eyes with it’s almost glowing ice blue eyes. It’s easy to remember that there’s a person behind a wolf’s eyes whenever you’re around your pack members but these eye’s only gave off pure predatory nature that gave off no sense of humanness.

“Yes this is them.” one of the guards said behind you. You thought you could hear a slight uneasiness in his voice as he addressed the wolves. Hearing that slight wobble you looked around him and noticed the other werewolves just trying to get to their destinations were actively giving the five of you a wide berth.

A push forward and a harsh whisper of ‘Go!’ made Jungkook grab your hand tightly as you were pressured into following the wolves past the fountain towards the unknown. The feeling of being a sacrificial lamb being led to the slaughter did not escape you as you made eye contact with the golden face of the goddess.

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ctrlhope · 2 months

Text

Bound By Blood (m)

synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted you life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.

k.taehyung x f.reader

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink, praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, ownership, tae is rlly sweet and adorable

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The Kim Empire.

Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway.

He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums.

Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is.

Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass.

You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath.

The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god.

You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety.

You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.

Love is something you will never be granted the property of.

You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper.

You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed.

One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor.

Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene.

You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath.

You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on.

A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced.

It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain.

For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time.

Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe.

How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that.

“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.

You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should.

Prince Kim has never been known for being kind.

Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face.

“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again.

Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.

You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.

“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want?

All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you.

Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action.

The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone.

You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.

Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.

You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful.

Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again.

A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before.

He desires an answer.

“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height.

You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive.

You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way.

You think you dislike the feeling.

“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.

You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart.

“I suppose so.”

He frowns. Try again.

“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel.

The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down.

Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you.

“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead.

You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment.

“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants.

“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you.

“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage.

“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it.

All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady.

You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.

“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top.

He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it.

You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.

Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely.

He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.

“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.

When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens.

“Purity.”

Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon.

He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.

It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions.

Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status.

The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive.

It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.

You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything.

The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones.

You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs.

It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one.

Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter.

A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons.

“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor.

You simply shake your own.

“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again.

“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.

“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is.

“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation.

You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace.

You had not been optimistic since then.

She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks.

“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.”

You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.

“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?”

You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design.

Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world.

You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.

“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.

“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.”

Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before.

Ah. It all makes sense now.

“Oh.”

“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.”

Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him.

However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut.

“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.”

She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.

“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.

“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.”

You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement.

“Good.”

Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest.

Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest.

You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable.

Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.

Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall.

Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway.

You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them.

You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms.

Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why.

His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status.

He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that.

You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!

You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught.

His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back.

Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before.

“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.

It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion.

“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy.

He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being.

“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place.

You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.

“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam.

His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features.

Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.

Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.

They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?

“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.

“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic.

“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.

You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.

“Yes. Thank you.”

You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms.

Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.

However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.

“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.”

You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone.

“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.”

“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.”

He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.

“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.

“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.

You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is.

“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too.

“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.”

He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.”

You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.

Ah. Right.

The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown.

He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother.

All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise.

Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white.

How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing.

“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares.

If he does, he doesn’t show it.

“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips.

Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it? “When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast.

“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them.

“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.

“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him.

“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head.

“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more.

“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.

“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.”

He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.”

In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway.

The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night.

You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible.

It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions.

Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined.

In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach.

Why did he know your name?

It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in.

This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages.

He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby.

You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort.

Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.

You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else.

Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath.

Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on making his war for you.

Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne.

You only wish it was that easy.

“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that.

The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths.

At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position.

A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door.

Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster.

A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears.

She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen.

You do not like to think of them.

Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess.

“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away.

Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm.

“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading.

“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.

This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!”

“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before.

“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls.

“And what am I meant to do?”

“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!”

Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!

You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?

“I understand. It will be dealt with.”

The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart.

At least that is what you hope.

The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents.

A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month.

He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible.

Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid.

What a strange feeling it is.

The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.

You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.

Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake.

His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend.

Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered.

You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–”

His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own.

His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.

Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own.

You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people.

But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain.

You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance.

They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible.

You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire.

“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems.

“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.”

You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales.

The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body.

“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction.

You pause.

“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer.

“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would.

You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.

“But if someone were to see them–”

“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.”

Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut.

You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.

“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear.

“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone.

He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.

“Good lamb.”

You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge.

Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else.

That is the only logical solution, at least.

But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well.

Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week.

It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect.

You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can.

His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name.

You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.

You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior.

His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has.

You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away.

The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.

More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.

Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor.

She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.

Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form.

You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being.

Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose.

Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them.

Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for.

You reach to spray your second favourite perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.

Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.

It is all too strange for you to want to understand.

Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible.

The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.

A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can.

But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?

A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you. It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed.

So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?

No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.

Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn.

Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it.

You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.

A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it.

You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.

Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open.

There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.

But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you.

The future king would be a fearsome thing.

“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore.

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…”

“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.

“I– Prince Kim…”

“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.

“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of.

“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.

You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse.

That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape.

“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it.

He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you.

Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof.

“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal.

Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.

“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore.

His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?”

“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”

You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room.

“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt?

Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country?

You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft.

“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.

“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft.

It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever.

“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.”

You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment.

A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh!

He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?”

A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable.

Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before.

“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine.

“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you.

“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.”

You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.

Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.

“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day.

“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own.

He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself.

“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.”

What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?!

Oh heavens, oh gods.

“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.” You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be!

Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.

It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place.

Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.

“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”

The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long.

“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating.

“What…?”

His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.”

“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again.

You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order.

In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him.

You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare.

You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory.

You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do.

As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.

When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it.

His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core.

“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.”

“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest.

Only words you can manage at the revelation.

“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself.

The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen.

You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–”

“Taehyung.”

“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.

He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth.

“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.”

He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well.

He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly.

“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?”

You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more.

With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours.

Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own.

His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it.

His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body.

Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse.

The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.

The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.

This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince.

The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste.

“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own.

Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him.

When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him.

Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.

For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well.

He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever.

He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.”

He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him.

God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.

“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.”

O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god.

His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left.

When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort.

“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core.

Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal.

You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.

His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being.

“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.

“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else.

The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting.

“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige.

His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him.

You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you.

Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth.

He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal.

A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything.

Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life.

You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible.

His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.

All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting.

He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.

It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.

His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit.

A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt.

You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact.

Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering.

His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue.

Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.

“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him.

He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high.

It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle.

Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form.

Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled.

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them.

“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt.

You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place.

He will not have you running away.

Not now.

Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters.

He is.

He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows.

Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.

He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.

“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels.

Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality.

He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good.

His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”

Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through.

Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.

You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want.

“Please.”

He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.

Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you.

But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.

One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for.

Not yet.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it.

He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity.

“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes.

He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more.

He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk.

So sensitive. So ready for him.

As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet.

He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck.

His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls.

He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take.

A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock.

He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort.

You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there.

Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity.

Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.

“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.

But he holds restraint. Just enough.

The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more.

He is falling apart before you, because of you.

He has gone mad because of you.

The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.

You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.”

He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.

You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs.

“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.”

He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.

“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly.

Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?

His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.

You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused.

With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop.

“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.”

He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him.

Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.

He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.

Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.

“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit.

“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.”

He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him.

“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul.

That is close enough to the truth, anyway.

“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him.

Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.

“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!”

He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.

His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more.

“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body.

“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!”

He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter.

It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.

“Who are you going to marry?”

You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?

“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by.

“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him.

“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel.

“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore.

Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.

“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck.

“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.

“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly.

“Who do you belong to?”

“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment.

His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.”

Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe.

You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide.

Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise.

“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing.

Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body.

“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.

Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.

“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright.

“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already.

“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.

“Goodnight my lamb.”

The Kim Empire.

His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you.

When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.

He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.

At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.

Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases.

It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games.

But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.

He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.

He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it.

Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night.

But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you.

Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time.

God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.

If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.

You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him.

It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth.

He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.

You are bound to him by blood after all.

2K notes · View notes

ckkookie · 2 years

Text

SERENE LOVE 🍒

Topic - making love with your cold mafia boyfriend for the first time [established relationship ]

Taehyung x f reader

Summary - fluff 70% ,smut 30%, Taehyung is sweet and a little cold, reader is cute, mentions of first time, shy reader, taehyung is a tease, tae's veiny arms, strength, cock appreciation, body appreciation, both madly in love

You and Taehyung have been in a relationship for 2 years now and talking about your boyfriend then taehyung is a little cold sometimes when it comes to expressing himself but he never misses any chance to show it through his affectionate actions

"Taeeee ,when will you finish your work i wanna cuddle you" you whined while pouting and looking at him "muchkin you are already doing that " he said indicating at you who is wrapped around him while sitting on his laps "no this is your office room i wanna cuddle in bed and watch movies" you said sulking "hmm baby wait for more 20 minutes i am almost done with the rival's info " he said concentrating on his laptop and rubbing your back with his veiny hand as you snuggled in his chest hoping he finishes it soon.

After 2 hours

You woke up with kisses on all over your face so you tried to cover your head with the duvet "yah you little devil how can you sleep hmm i guess we are to watch a movie and cuddle but never mind you seem sleepy " he kissed your forehead and pretended to get up but soon heard your whine he chuckled at your cute behavior and came to hug you but his knee touched you down there ,you ignored it and hugged him nevertheless soon you felt hot when your boobs pressed against his chest as he laid over you snuggling in your neck "what happened muchkin why you so quiet all of a sudden? " " i feel very hot...and umm i n-need you Tae " taehyung looked at you a little shook since your were always his innocent baby and didn't thought you would say this on your own but he also felt happy that finally now you both will be one physically and he can mark you as his "babylove are you ready for it?" you felt tingles all over your stomach from the nickname like always "yes Tae i want to feel you and i am ready" he smiled at you cupping your cheeks he pecked your lips"if you feel uncomfortable or any pain you'll inform me instantly okay? " "okay!" he chuckled and started from featherly kisses on your neck to worshipping and praising your body until both of you had no clothes on now he came up with his eyes looking deeply at yours and you nodded so he entered in you causing you to yelp in pain but you didn't let your tears fall cause Tae will stop and also you'll have to do it someday so you adjusted to his manly size while he wiped your sweat and pampered you with kisses. you signaled him to move and he slowly started rubbing his member inside your walls as pleasure took over you he increased the pace "aah babygirl you are so tight " "a-ahh Tae it feels so good mmh" he kissed you passionately and continued ramming inside you "how can i- aah not notice this amazing cock all these years Taeee" you clenched around his cock Tae groaned and increased his pace " taehyungie i am c-cumming " "come all over my cock, love" he said caressing your hairs and kissing your face while thrusting inside you and soon you came all over his cock "baby hold tight hmm " you nodded while hugging his back as he chased his own release making the bed move back and forth "oww y/n i love you so so much ngh" with that he came inside you . Once he came down from his high he dropped his body on yours balancing his weight he hugged you as you hugged him back feeling drowsy but taehyung took his member out and picked you up taking you to the bathroom you hugged his neck and smooched his cheek admiring his side profile as he walked "someone loves my side profile hmm" you hid your face in his neck "i love the whole of you" Taehyung stopped midway and looked at you "ooh! muchkin i can't believe my ears can you please say it again" he said dramatically throwing his head back and closing his eyes " i hate you taeee " you said hididng your crimson cheeks in his chest, he chuckled and kissed your forehead "love you too my baby" a beautiful smile danced on both of your lips

Ｏ(≧▽≦)Ｏ

( pls tell me your thoughts about the fic🙁 it will really make me happy knowing that you've enjoyed it ☺ )

#bts taehyung #taehyung #taehyung reader #bts tae tae #bts tae x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung smile #taehyung fluff #taehyung boyfriend material #taehyung mafia au #established relationship #cuterelationship

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yoonia · 3 months

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A Christmas Fix — 01 (m) | kth

⟶ Summary | One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.

With special collab prompt: "the holidays aren't so bad with you around."

⟶ Title | A Christmas Fix

⟶ Pairings | Taehyung x female reader

⟶ Genre | Secret Baby!au, Second Chance!au, Strangers to Lovers!au

⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; including: alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting/morning sickness, surprise babies, miscommunication, profanities/swearing, minor body insecurities (implied), some family drama; involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, one night stand, drunk sex (with clear consent), minor dom/sub dynamic, brat!reader, size kink, rough sex, light choking, restraint, hair pulling (M, F), protected & unprotected sex, fingering (F), oral sex (F), clit play, breast play, stripping, biting, minor hand job/groping, grinding, masturbation (M, F), dirty talk, implied pain kink, praise kink, body worship, marking, multiple orgasms (M, F), overstimulation.

⟶ Word count | 25,363 words (of 54,773 words)

⟶ Story Notes | Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration with @leahsfavefics, @kithtaehyung, @kpopfanfictrash, @cybrsan, and @sugaurora | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs) | Moodboard was done by me | Posted in: January 31st, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Author Notes | I know that this is so late, but December has always been a rough month for me and this time it continued until January. I hope you can still enjoy this story regardless. Happy belated holidays and happy new year, my loves!

⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: next chapter ⇢

⟶ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi

⟶ Read on AO3

One month ago…

You already had everything perfectly planned out when you first thought of this trip some long months ago.

Everything.

From your personal bucket list full of wonderful things that you wanted to experience during your time away and the places that you wanted to see, down to the smallest details that you could possibly think of to be able to enjoy every single moment of your secret getaway.

Just like the red dress that you had chosen to wear tonight. The dress you had meticulously picked and bought to wear on the trip as you went to celebrate your newfound freedom.

In your well-thought-out plan, you were supposed to have landed on the tropical island you were headed to by sundown. The warm tropical breeze should have been embracing you at the start of your trip instead of the cold, chilly wind flowing right outside these walls.

By this evening, you should have already settled in nicely in the comfort of your hotel room right by the beachside. The calming sound of the rushing waves outside your window was the sound that you should have been listening to while resting from your long flight.

You had pictured yourself embracing your freedom in a foreign land. To feel the soft sand slipping between your toes as you were playing chase with the rushing waves, and to find calmness that you could only get far away from the treacherous city where you came from.

The trip was meant to help you mend your soul. Perfectly planned out as an escape from reality and leave all of your past hurt behind before starting a new chapter of your life.

And yet, no matter how thoroughly you had it all planned out, somehow life simply found a way to mess it all up. Just like how it had always been. So perhaps you shouldn’t have been so surprised when it happened to you again, just when you thought that you had everything under control.

You should have seen the signs long before everything started crumbling down.

The sky that kept growing darker ever since you left the city. The constant turbulences happening during your first flight that made the trip feel intense. The unsettling feeling you met the moment you landed in this place for your transit. The constant announcements echoing through the airport about flights that were getting delayed and cancelled while you were getting no news about your transit flight’s departure.

You should have been prepared to face reality, keeping in mind that life hadn’t been so nice to you lately to let you slip away that easily. Yet your stubbornness prevailed. And after your most recent predicament, you needed this trip to happen. You needed to be right.

After all, you have made it all the way here. It would have been impossible for you to return home, wouldn’t it?

So you remained in denial and were so stubbornly holding onto hope that you would soon be taken away from this place towards your dream destination. Even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart.

But after long hours of waiting, you were finally forced to accept your fate, letting go of any hope you had left to escape this place when they officially cancelled the rest of today’s flights due to unresolved weather issues. Including yours.

“I’m sorry, but we really can’t promise you anything at this moment. There will be no flights until the storm passes and our pilots are cleared to fly again. Until then, we have nothing to tell you.”

The staff’s swift response to your inquiries about getting on the first flight available to take you to your destination only left you with a dead end. Even flying back home was no longer an option, only because that would only mean that you were admitting defeat.

And that was how you ended up here tonight, stranded right between the daunting city that you called home and the paradise that you wished to be in until an unforeseeable future. Your dream of enjoying the night in the comfort of the beachside hotel room overlooking the wide, clear ocean, had been replaced with the reality where you had to spend overnight at the airport’s transit hotel that the airline staff helped book for you.

You released a sigh as you leaned back against the elevator wall. Recounting the events again only brought back all the terrible mood you were having. And it didn’t help that the last message that your roommate sent you only reminded you of your setback.

From Skye: Just checking on you on your secret getaway. I hope you’re having a blast right now. I wish you’d tell me where you’re heading so I can have a good reason to be jealous. Be safe!

Another sigh came from your lips as you wondered—

Now how am I supposed to answer her text?

Before you could find an answer, the elevator doors opened as it reached the lobby downstairs. You put away your phone as you stepped out, and immediately got lost in your thoughts. Your mind once again getting too loud as it keeps you company.

At first, you had no intention of hiding this trip from her. Yet all the circumstances leading to this weekend had made it hard for you to share anything to anyone.

You were planning to wait until you were finally there so you could surprise her with pictures from the beautiful beach or your comfortable hotel room. Showing her the pretty nighttime scene from the tropical island would have been a nice way to flaunt your secret getaway rather than boasting it when your fate had been filled with uncertainty.

But instead of having an evening walk down the beach, you were trudging across the lobby inside an airport hotel, accompanied by the sound of your heels clicking on the marble floors instead of having sand soiling your feet.

And the view outside the window that you got to see earlier had been nowhere close to the pretty beach with its white sand and rolling waves. Instead, you had a clear view of the dark night sky, painted with the raging storm and its blaring thunders so strong they almost caused the entire bedroom to shake. Neither showed any sign of calming down any time soon, leaving you with no other choice but to do what you could to enjoy your temporary stay.

And you were going to start doing so by having a quick drink to help you unwind for the night.

The red dress that you were wearing might seem a bit excessive for a nightcap, but for a short while, it helped you forget where you were. It felt almost as if you were walking in a dream as you strolled down the lower lobby in search of the hotel bar.

Entering the hotel bar, however, became another wake-up call.

The bar was quite large for a transit hotel, accommodating the patrons filling the place tonight. You had hoped that you could have a dance or two with a friendly stranger before retreating to your hotel room to rest, yet the closed-off lounge area had more space filled with box seats than the open dance floor. The seating area was the only place in the bar which was dimly lit, allowing the guests some privacy while they settled in with their drinks.

The small chandeliers glittering from the ceiling were far from the hanging lights that you pictured hanging in a beachside bar. Just like the one place you had seen pictures of while planning for your trip. The lights you were seeing here made the entire space beneath seem luxurious, spreading a soft golden glow over the wary faces trying to enjoy the night.

The pulsing bass that came out of the speakers was enough to drown the sound of the violent storm happening on the other side of these walls, further helping to create an illusion that you were in another place. That you were somewhere else instead of being stranded inside an airport hotel, together with all the strangers who seemed to be facing the same fate as you did.

You made your way towards the main bar, suddenly feeling hyperaware of your surroundings. Even without looking, you could feel people’s eyes following your movements. Yet you paid no heed to them. You were only here to quiet down the raging storm happening inside your head, after all.

A strong scent of old wood took over the bar area. Mixed in with the excessive scent of air fresheners and cleaners, it was enough to remind you that you were miles and miles away from the beautiful island where you had been so desperate to be.

Smoothing your palms down your red dress, you took one empty seat at the bar. You caught the bartender’s eyes as he walked past, and within moments, a glass of strawberry daiquiri ended up in your hand.

This feels nice, you wondered to yourself as you sat back and tried to relax.

One sip of the sweet alcoholic drink was all that it took to refresh your mind. As the warmth from your drink ran smoothly through your body, any doubt and wariness you felt began to fade.

The next sip of the drink managed to ease your thoughts down a bit more. It helped push away the reminders of your troubles to the back of your mind. Finding calmness, you took another quick look at your surroundings.

The seating lounge seemed to be filled with guests more than the main bar was. Stranded travellers like yourself. At first glance, the nicely dressed men in suits made it seem like you were in a bar downtown. As if they were nothing more than a group of businessmen seeking leisure on a Friday night with drinks.

It only took you looking a few seats away from them for the illusion to shatter. Your eyes fell on a group of men and women wearing their summer clothing who were making a toast, acting as if they were at the peak of their vacation.

Looking at the scene made you realise that you weren’t the only one feeling miserable tonight. You wondered just how badly these people here needed to forget. How many of them here might be similar to you, stranded in an unexpected situation while trying to escape reality?

You raised your glass to hide your bitter smile. The smooth liquid continued to flow through your body and you slowly began to find some peace of mind. Before you knew it, you had finished your drink, though you weren’t exactly ready to return to your cold bedroom.

“Can I order you another glass of drink?”

A deep voice invaded your senses after a long period of silence, and it was coming from your side. You had been far too deep in your reverie that you didn’t even realise that someone had taken the empty seat right beside you at the bar.

Curious to see this friendly stranger, you slowly turned around to look at him. And what you saw in him nearly took your breath away.

A tall, lean man was sitting there. His slick hair had a few curls at the end of each strands, and he had combed them back, leaving nothing more than a few stands framing his handsome face that looked almost as if it had been sculpted by the fine hands of masters in art. His sharp nose and jawline drew your attention, while his deep and soulful eyes that appeared like pools of rich mahogany drew you in, as if he was hiding a story behind his intense gaze. But it was his plump lips that formed into a smile which caught your eyes the most.

At your silence that stretched out while you were busy being captivated by him, he raised his eyebrows. It made you realise that he was waiting for your answer. An answer to a question that you had so obviously missed.

“I’m sorry?”

He tilted his chin to point at your now empty glass. “You look like you could use another glass, and I’d love to get one for you,” he said with an amused tone of voice.

Once again, his deep, velvety voice hit you deeply. It resonated through your body, and a shudder ran down your spine. You refused to believe that he was able to cause this effect on you solely through his voice or his pretty smile.

But how else would you explain the reaction that was drawn from your body?

I don’t think I’m that drunk already, you wondered.

It was probably the way he spoke to you which affected you so much. The way he was asking a question with pure confidence. As if he already knew your answer, and that it would be impossible for you to refuse his offer.

And he wasn’t completely wrong about it.

What remained from your sullen mood immediately shifted in his presence. And while you have no intention of turning him down, you decided that you were not going to make things easy for him.

“An interesting offer that seems like such a waste for me to refuse,” you sweetly said to him, smiling as your eyes fell on his empty hands. “But how would a woman feel at ease to accept such an offer from a man who isn’t even holding a glass in his hand?”

He squinted his eyes at you, which only made his gaze feel more intense. “Are you afraid that I might be planning to get you drunk?”

You softly laughed. “Not sure if I should be so worried about that. Getting drunk tonight has always been my initial plan all along,” you coyly said, hiding the fact that it was never your intention to get wild tonight. But his appearance intrigued you enough to change your mind about ending the night so soon.

The mysterious man remained oblivious to this as he laughed with you. His wide, almost boxy grin mesmerised you in an instant and you were once again left speechless.

He waved his hand to grab the bartender’s attention. It was nothing more but a simple gesture, yet you were somewhat drawn to it. To him.

While he greeted the bartender, you took the chance to have a better look at this man. You noticed that he was a bit different compared to the other men that you saw around you earlier.

Dressed in a black jacket over his plain white shirt, he didn’t seem as sophisticated as the stranded businessmen in their flashy suits sitting together at the bar’s lounge. Yet he had a different level of confidence which was enough to make your cheeks feel warm.

In your eyes, he was alluring, almost as intensely as the dark storm happening outside. And you couldn’t resist being pulled towards him.

“Another glass of the same drink for the lady and a glass of grasshopper for me,” he smoothly spoke as he ordered the drinks for you.

The bartender nodded and went to work, while you slid closer to him. His fresh-scented cologne immediately hit you, and your confidence nearly wavered that you almost slid back. But then he caught you with his gaze as he turned back to you, giving you the kind of attention which boosted every bit of ego you had.

“So you also prefer something light and sweet. How intriguing,” you teased him, bringing back his alluring grin.

“Why do you think I came here to join you? It was obviously for the fruity drinks and to have someone to drink it together with,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes at him and smiled. Before you got to say something in return, the bartender came back with his order. The man took a sip of his drink first before you took yours. Once again, the sweetness from your drink swirled through your body, chipping away at the tension that had been weighing you down ever since the day’s saga began.

“To be honest, I also thought that you were looking a bit rough.” His remark brought your attention back to him. The tease was gone from his voice. All that was left was a gentle concern that seemed genuine. “And you looked like you needed a friend. That’s why I invited myself to join you.”

It makes you feel uneasy to think that you were being so transparent. So much so that a complete stranger like himself was able to see right through you.

“You think so? Wait until you hear how rough I’m feeling inside as well,” you bitterly said to him, drawing a soft smile to his face.

“That makes the two of us then,” he said to you gently with his eyes on his glass of drink. There was a forlorn look in his eyes as he slowly twirled the glass, causing the liquid to swish around before he took another sip from it.

“Care to share?” you questioned him before you could stop yourself, only to pull yourself back. “Sorry, that sounds creepy. We just met and here I am, prying into someone else’s business,” you nervously laughed.

His gaze softened when he looked at you. Furthermore, he also seemed intrigued.

“No, not at all.” His voice was calm, and it somehow helped to calm your nerves. “I was just about to lend an ear in case you needed someone to vent to. I never expected that you would be a step ahead of me before I could make the offer.”

The comment he gave you made you feel warm inside.

“Mine’s a long story,” you bitterly said to him as you raised your glass, almost giving in to the urge to take a hefty drink and finish it off when everything started coming back to you again.

The reason behind this trip, why you were stranded here on your own, while being far, far away from home, and all the drama that had gotten in the way when you had been so desperate to get away from everything.

Unsurprisingly, the man merely shrugged. “I’ve got time to spare. My flight won’t leave until tomorrow. And that is if they’re allowed to fly out of here at all.”

You smiled at him. “Same here. I guess we’re both stranded here all night, huh?”

He leaned in just then, invading your personal space and filling it with his presence. And you didn’t even mind it as you leaned into him, meeting him halfway to welcome him into your little safety bubble.

“And I was worried that I might get stuck feeling lonely while being stranded in this place,” he gently murmured, drawing a smile to your face.

“I doubt that you would end up alone tonight,” you teased him, simply because there was no possible way that someone as attractive as he was would be returning to his hotel bedroom alone.

His smile grew, yet the deep, dark look in his eyes shifted into something else. Something naughty and sinful. It made you feel a new sensation brewing inside even without him ever having to touch you.

“Is that an invitation?” he asked with his deep voice that came grazing at your skin.

Normally, you wouldn’t know what to say in return. It had been so long since you played this kind of game with someone. With anyone. But his presence and his words were drawing something out of you. A part of you that you never thought existed. And you surprised yourself when you played along, taunting danger head-on as you challenged this handsome stranger before you—

“Would you like it to be?”

Something flashed in his eyes. It was dark and intense, and it was sucking you in. It brought a myriad of sensations that unexpectedly went straight down to your core.

In the deep silence that fell right after, the world around you faded. Even before you got to know his name, before you had the chance to share your story, you already knew the answer that he was about to give you as a response to your question.

And you also knew right then, that the sparks that came rising around you were something that you would never be able to easily forget, even if every bit of memory you had about him would fade over time.

Present…

Why do I keep thinking about that night all over again?

You can only wonder, as you keep being reminded of that eventful night.

Weeks, nearly a month have gone by ever since, yet the memories seem to have been engraved deeply in your thoughts. And today, even though you haven’t really been thinking about it since, you suddenly find yourself having no trouble recounting everything that happened then.

Well, almost everything.

Some parts may seem blurry now. All due to the passing of time and the fact that you were partly inebriated at the time. But you can still recall some parts of the night that had clearly left a strong impression on you—the first encounter and the conversation you shared before alcohol took over, the instant attraction that you felt, but most of all, his entire presence.

And they all have been coming into your thoughts while you are sitting here in the corner of your bathroom. Alone. With your arms wrapped around your folded knees and your eyes closed. As if you are waiting for a miracle to happen.

You scoff at the thought.

Right. Miracles.

Years have long passed since you stopped believing that miracles do exist. Life always has its way of blindsiding you with its twists and turns that miracles no longer seem to matter anymore.

Not for you, at least.

Your past experiences have only caused you to look at it with sceptical eyes, sometimes even with bitterness, knowing that life has never been on your side.

But here you are now, wishing, praying, holding onto hope that there would be a miracle to stop you from getting into a messy situation. One that you know you wouldn’t be able to handle on your own.

After all, the perfect season of miracles is right around the corner. So it wouldn’t be so wrong for you to have some faith in them again now, would it?

Your phone starts blaring with the sound of the alarm, snapping you out of it. Slowly, you rise on your wobbly feet. It feels as if your entire body has grown numb even before you get to face reality as it comes glaring back at you.

Clutching onto the edges of your bathroom counter, you try to hold yourself together, and immediately failing, as you look at the two thin white strips lying on the cold counter and feel your entire world tilting off of its axis.

All because of the two red lines that are clearly visible on each strip.

“Oh, fuck,” you softly groan. Deep down, you had already predicted this. Yet you kept denying it, hoping that you would be wrong.

“No, no, no—” you continue murmuring to yourself while wishing that you could somehow turn back time and change everything before things started going the wrong way.

Back to this morning, when your roommate caught you—once again—throwing up last night’s dinner before handing you the unopened pregnancy test packs that she has been keeping safe in her room with the premise, “Just in case.”

Or maybe you could return to last night when she pointed out your odd cravings—like dipping apples into peanut butter and eating leftover mac and cheese straight from the fridge without warming it in the microwave first—and joked about how you have been acting like a pregnant woman with your mood swings.

Better yet, you wish you could go back to that night, back to that many weeks ago, when you allowed yourself to fall for a stranger’s charm which led you to spend the night with him.

You close your eyes, once again murmuring to yourself, “This has got to be a dream.”

But the moment you open your eyes again, nothing has changed. You are still standing there with your hands holding tightly onto the edges of the bathroom counter. And the two pregnancy test kits that you used are still lying on top of the counter for your eyes to see.

A rapid sound of knocking on the bathroom door sends you jumping back.

“Hey, ______? Is everything okay?” you hear your roommate, Skye, calling out for you. Her voice seems calm, yet when you recall hearing the sound of her footsteps moving back and forth outside of the door while you were taking the test, you know that she has been waiting just as anxiously as you were. “So—? What does it say?”

Still in shock, and quite stuck in denial, you open your mouth only to have no words coming out of you. Your brain feels a bit hazy as you walk up to the door and open it for her.

Skye takes one look at your face and her gaze softens. “What did it—” She shakes her head. “Oh, never mind, I’m dying to know. Let me see it,” she says as she brushes past you before you can say anything.

Hoping that there is a chance that reality can change within the next few seconds, you refuse to turn around and once again close your eyes while she suddenly grows quiet.

Maybe you were just imagining things. Maybe you weren’t even looking at the test properly. Maybe—

“So, uhm—” you can hear Skye’s voice trembling a little as she hesitantly asks you, “Two lines mean it’s positive, is that right?”

And just like that, every bit of hope you have in you flies out the window. “I wish I could say that it’s the other way around,” you softly murmur, feeling defeated.

And the feeling grows stronger when you hear her cursing under her breath,

“Well, fuck.”

“What are you doing?” you ask Skye as you gingerly take a seat on the sofa.

Once you both stepped away from the bathroom, she guided you to the living room while she sauntered away to the kitchen without a word. You can hear the noises she makes as she is busy rummaging through the counters. Yet you are too far away to see what she is up to.

“Hang on a minute. Stay there,” she calls out without even looking.

“Okay.”

It’s not like you have any energy to go anywhere, after all. Your head is still spinning and you can barely feel your legs. It feels as if you are stuck in a bad dream and you just can’t get out of it.

It doesn’t take long before Skye returns to your side, carrying with her two clean tall glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. It was the same bottle that you opened when you celebrated your promotion a couple of weeks ago after coming back from the trip.

Holy shit, you inwardly cry out. Your heartbeat rises as your hands find their way to your stomach.

“Okay, let’s try to calm down,” Skye says to you as she places both glasses on the table before you, although it seems to you more as if she is talking to herself instead of reassuring you while you are panicking inside.

A couple of weeks ago? Wouldn’t I have been already pregnant then?

These thoughts keep running through your head as you watch your roommate pouring wine into both glasses, just like the night she did the same when you first opened that same bottle.

Dear God, how much did I drink that night? You ask yourself with a grimace as you try to remember.

Wait, no. I didn’t drink anything, you remind yourself. Relief washes over you look back at the celebration night where you barely took a sip before Skye took the glass away from your hands.

Because you were already feeling sick that day.

You had been feeling nauseous for days, throwing up once in a while and mostly on the days when you were lacking sleep because of the workload you had to handle for the upcoming promotion. All you ever did was wet your lips with the wine after the celebratory toast. That was the only contact you made with the drink before Skye replaced it with a tall glass of alcohol-free smoothie that she made especially for your ‘upset stomach’.

Of course, how did I not see the signs? You wonder again as you remember the sickly feeling you had after vomiting each morning and feeling powerless for the rest of the day. It even got so bad that you had to skip work for a couple of days at the beginning of your ‘sickness’.

If only you knew then.

Your eyes are still on the wine glasses as Skye places them side by side and puts away the bottle.

“Uh—I believe we both just saw the two lines appearing on the test packs.”

She lets out a light scoff and waves her hand at you. “They're both for me. I’m going to need them while I process this,” she says, shaking her head as she sits down to join you on the sofa. “You get to keep that smoothie.”

You follow her gaze and look down at the glass of smoothie that you left on the table during the whole fiasco with the pregnancy test. While you pick up your drink, Skye takes a hefty drink from one of the glasses of wine and sits back.

“So—you’re pregnant,” she murmurs to herself. Her gaze flickers to your face for a brief moment and nods to herself before taking another drink.

Why does it seem like she is the one panicking?

She releases a sigh. Neither of you says anything for a moment. But you can tell when she grows more anxious by the minute. You don’t understand why, until she carefully asks you, “Are you going to tell Han?”

Confused, you look at her with your brows furrowed and ask, “Why would I tell Han that I’m pregnant?”

Skye looks genuinely confused, almost as much as you are, and you only realise the reason why when she asks you, “Isn’t Hansol the father? You guys have been dating for a long time and I can’t remember ever seeing you with anyone else while you’re on a break.”

You wince, realising too late that you have yet to tell her the truth.

“Actually—we’re not on a break,” you slowly admit with a low voice. Months have gone by, and even though it no longer hurts whenever you start thinking about your failed relationship or to mention your ex’s name, you cannot help but still feel bitter about how it ended and you hate talking about it.

That is the reason why you haven’t said anything about it to anyone. Maybe you were just too embarrassed. After all, it isn’t so easy to admit that you may have been the reason why the four-year relationship fell into pieces.

“I lied,” you say with a burst of deep sigh, “It was over, done, finished—”

“So you already broke up?” she cuts you off with a calm voice.

You bite your bottom lip as you slowly nod your head. “Yeah,” you whisper, suddenly feeling like your throat is tightening up. Not because you feel the sudden urge to cry. But only because this is all becoming too much to take at once.

“And the baby?” she carefully asks you. “It wasn’t Han—”

“The baby isn’t his,” you quickly answer before she even gets to question about it.

It’s hard enough to hear his name being mentioned after a while. It feels harder to think that you might be carrying his baby.

But the moment those words come out of your lips, reality finally sinks in. Grabbing the glass of your drink, you take a hefty drink out of it. You wish there was some alcohol in this thing. Maybe it would have helped you think more clearly.

That’s right. It couldn’t have been his.

Sighing to yourself, you begin to do the math. “We’ve been broken up for months, so if the baby is his, I’m sure I would be showing already by this time around,” you say this while gently rubbing your palm over your stomach.

Now that your suspicions have been confirmed, the gesture feels almost natural to you that your hand simply moves before you realise it, though it helps confirm that nothing much has changed with your body.

It feels odd to think that there is a life existing inside you, yet you cannot really see it with just one look. This convinces you further that the baby couldn’t have been conceived while you were still dating your ex. Looking back to it now, once you remember when exactly the sickness and craving started, it would only make sense that the baby was conceived on that specific night.

“So—if Hansol isn’t the Dad, then who was it?”

Biting your lip, you turn to look at Skye. Of course, if there is anyone in this world that you can talk to about this, it would only be her. Just like how she would come to you first whenever she is in a bind, whether it’s about her relationships, about work, or even the smallest things like having a bad day where you end up sharing a tub of ice cream to feel better.

After all, she isn’t just a roommate, but also someone you have known the longest compared to the other friends you’ve made since moving into this city. You have known each other since college, since back in freshman year when both of you were nothing more but young kids from small towns being thrust into the big city.

Being put together in the same dorm room led you to become fast friends. After years of enduring the same hardship in college, the two of you remained so close that you even moved to this city together and continued to live in the same place to keep each other company.

You have gone through everything with her, and you have always been honest with each other. It should have been easy to tell her everything. If only you could find the right words to begin sharing your story.

“I have no idea where to start.”

“Well,” Skye patiently says while twirling the glass of wine she’s holding. You squint your eyes at her when you find it almost empty. So unfair. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“Right. From the beginning,” you say this with a nod. “Do you remember when I went away last month?”

She nods. “Your secret getaway. Still jealous of that, by the way.”

You give her a small smile. “Yeah, well—there’s a reason why I insisted on going alone on that trip. I actually planned it as a surprise vacation for me and Hansol. The original idea was for us to have a romantic getaway for our fourth anniversary.”

Skye raises her eyebrows. “Well, damn,” she mutters. “Let me guess. You broke up before it happened?”

You grimace as you recall what happened. “Close enough,” you answer with a bitter smile. “It was because of the trip that we got a huge fight in the first place.”

Skye tilts her head. “I’m not following.”

Sighing, you drink your smoothie to cool down and swallow the bitter feeling you are suddenly getting. Recounting the break-up isn’t so much fun to do. Not even after this long.

“I planned the entire thing on my own. Booked the flight and the hotel, and rearranged our schedules to fit each other so we could go on that exact date. But I never shared anything with him, except to confirm that it was a place that he also dreamt of going so we could both enjoy it together.” You let out a defeated sigh. “I wanted it to be a surprise. He used to love those in the past, so I figured it could be fun to celebrate our anniversary this way and get away from all the stress both of us had been getting.”

You stop talking for a moment to remember those days. Both you and Hansol had been so busy back then that you could barely spend time with each other.

It was the exact routine every day. Having long hours in the office and since you weren’t living together, you could only keep in contact with each other through texts and calls. By the time the two of you were able to see each other, all the stress had been piling up that you were almost always arguing and fighting instead of making up for all the time you missed while being apart.

“We were talking about moving in together but all of a sudden, we stopped discussing it and I could feel us growing further apart. I thought going away from all the stress for a while would help us get along and make up for all the fighting. Maybe we could have had a chance to talk things out and figure out what to fix.”

You stop with a soft sigh. “We were getting bored. With work, with life, and maybe we did get bored with each other but neither of us could open up about it, much less admit it. Not even to ourselves.”

Skye lets out a groan. “This is why I don’t do relationships,” she mutters before finishing her drink. The first glass. With the second one waiting on the table.

You give her a scoff, but smile at her comment before continuing, “He found out about the trip by chance. I was still logged in on his laptop after I borrowed it to check on my work email while I was staying over on the weekend. He accidentally opened the booking details when he was checking his email, thinking it was his account. He suspected me of planning to go with someone else, but even after I told him that the trip was for both of us, he wasn’t having it.”

Skye leans forward when she hears this. “Wait, he’s pissed about a secret vacation?” she asks, looking unhappy and confused at the same time. You can’t really blame her. Because that is exactly how you feel about your ex’s reaction. “Why would he be? If it had been me, I would’ve been ecstatic about going.”

“I wish I knew,” you groan, feeling just as frustrated as you had been then. “But he wasn’t just refusing to go. He started blaming me. Saying something about me holding him back or something. He said he had no time for a trip when he needed to be there and work for his promotion.”

Thinking back to that day, remembering about the fight and the things you said to each other, you are reminded of the moment the fight left your body. Because you knew then that there was nothing left to fight over.

“He never even brought up the fact that it was the date of our anniversary. I don’t think he even knew or remembered it,” you say with a bitter chuckle. “He broke it off, saying that he wanted to focus on his career and I would be keeping him behind. And I agreed because I knew that we’d wound up hurting each other if we’d stayed.”

“I can understand that,” Skye gently says. The two of you share a sad smile when your eyes meet. “And you still went on that trip,” she guesses, sounding proud. She lifts her glass to you and says, “Good girl.”

You merely shrug. “When I went to cancel the tickets for the trip, I thought it would be such a waste to throw everything away. So I decided that going solo would be a good idea and kept mine. Besides, I needed a moment to heal myself and get away from the city for a short while.”

She laughs, agreeing with you. Then, just as she is about to say something, she suddenly stops. A knowing look comes across her gaze and she slowly gasps. “Don’t tell me—” she says, “You met someone while you were there.”

You nod your head slowly and press your lips together. “Once again, you’re close. But that’s not exactly what happened.” Blowing out a deep breath, you slowly ask her, “Remember when I told you that I got held up for a day in transit?”

“Yeah, I was so jealous of you that I still remember everything you told me about that trip,” she lets out a dreamy sigh, then her gaze snaps back at you. “But, it seems to me that you haven’t told me everything about the trip.”

“No, I didn’t.” You grimace. “Anyway, that’s when I met him—”

The memories return to you again as you share with your roommate about your encounter with the beautiful stranger. You remember vividly the way he spoke, the deep and gentle voice that he spoke to you with, and his captivating smile that made you swoon. Everything about him that made it hard for you to leave and say goodbye to him.

You recount the way you enjoyed each other’s company that even after your terrible mood gradually became much better, and after you finished yet another drink, you simply couldn’t walk away and end the night with him so soon. You stayed longer, losing count of the time you spent with him and the drinks you had.

“And then, one thing led to another, it just happened.”

Skye’s eyes have grown so wide at this point, and her jaw has dropped in her surprise that she looks almost comical. “You hooked up with a stranger during your transit?” she asks you. The moment you nod your head, she switches her empty glass with the other. “I would drink to that.”

You laugh just as she takes a hefty drink as if celebrating on your behalf. “Why do you sound so proud of me?”

“Well,” she slowly starts, “We’ve known each other for so long. You have always been so put together, always followed the rules, and you are always so good at what you do. From school, to work, even the little things you have been doing on the side. But not when it comes to your sex life.”

You know that she is right about everything. But it doesn’t stop you from picking up a cushion and hitting her with it.

“Hey, you know I’m right,” she says while laughing and protecting the precious glass of wine. “Come on, you’ve never had any casual relationships or random hookups, and every chance I could have gotten to hook you up with my guy friends was gone when Hansol came into the picture.”

Pouting, you pull the cushion back and hold it tightly in your arms. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you admit with a sigh. “How do you get to know me so well?”

“That’s because I love you enough to pay attention,” she smugly says while waving her glass around, sloshing the wine everywhere. “Why do you think I’ve been so protective of you over the years?”

You roll your eyes and hit her with the cushion one last time, making her laugh, even though she is right. For as long as you have been friends with her, she has always been like an older sister to you. Not only for coming hard like a shield against the guys you ever introduced her to but also for the trivial things that not many people would pay much attention to.

Like reminding you to eat properly when you are stressed out or too busy with work and school.

You feel bad for relying on her so much over the years. But you also feel grateful about it. Just like how you’re feeling right now once you notice that you’re no longer feeling as stressed as you had earlier once you’re done dumping everything to her.

Skye’s eyes turn back to you, landing on your covered belly as she curiously asks, “Are you positively sure that Hansol wasn’t the father?”

You slowly nod your head. As much as you wish that you were wrong, you couldn’t have been mistaken about this.

“What are the odds that it was a false positive?” you suddenly question her, while she shrugs.

“It’s possible,” she says. “But we can get some more test kits and redo the test. Just in case. Or you could make an appointment with the doctor straight away to make sure.”

“Right, the doctor—” You let out a soft sigh and close your eyes briefly. It has been a while since you’ve seen your physician. The last time was before—

Oh, shit.

Your eyes snap open right then. How long ago has it been since you’ve gone to see your physician? The last time was when you went to your regular appointment for your birth control. But that felt so long ago.

Long before the trip.

After that appointment, and once the break-up happened, you simply threw yourself into work so much you completely forgot about everything else. And since you were newly single, getting your birth control was the last thing you had in mind at the time.

Fuck me, you inwardly groan without saying a thing to your roommate who is busy chattering about the doctor, making appointments, and offering to take you there herself. You know that she would lecture you about safe sex like a mother hen if you ever share this with her.

But wait…he wore a condom, right? Yes, you are quite sure he did. The details are blurry when you try to remember, but you do remember protection being involved.

Groaning to yourself, you fall back on the sofa. Your head starts spinning again when you start worrying about other things. Once you start thinking of a problem that you may have to face, another one comes to mind.

“What am I supposed to do with this baby?”

Skye once again raises her eyebrows at you. “I think the right question should be what do you want to do?” she asks, while you can only shake your head.

“I don’t know,” you answer with a small voice. The only thing you can think of right now is how you are going to get through this holiday while being pregnant. You are supposed to be home for Christmas in two weeks, and knowing just how crazy your family truly is, you cannot imagine how they would react if they found out you are with a child.

You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “And my family still have no idea that I broke up with Han.”

“For once, I’m not jealous of your life,” Skye says as she sips her wine. But she is ready for it when you fling the cushion back at her and avoid it without spilling her drink. “Don’t worry. I think they’ll catch on about your failed relationship as soon as you walk into your family home without that hunk by your side.”

Huffing, you hug the cushion in your arms and lean back. “I guess if they’re going to find out either way, I might as well just tell them the moment I got home.”

Besides, it might be even harder to hide the fact that you are pregnant. You might not be showing yet, but there is no possible way you could avoid the questions that may come if you are still feeling so sick right in front of your family, or if your cravings suddenly get out of hand.

Especially if Honey is there. Despite the early signs of dementia showing on her lately, your grandmother has always been so perceptive. And there is no telling what random things she may blurt out once she has some rum in her system.

With so many different things to think about, you almost forget one important matter that you should be thinking about when it comes to the baby. And just like always, Skye is there to remind you of it.

“Do you remember his name?”

You turn to Skye with wide eyes, suddenly panicking inside. You can tell that she can see it on your face and is now sharing the same feeling when she suddenly knocks back the rest of her wine and groans, “Fuck, I’m gonna need more.”

You watch her pour more wine into her glass, hastily drinking it right after, before turning to you again. “You didn’t get his name? At least tell me that you got his number before you went separate ways.”

You bite your lips. “It’s Tae.”

“Tae—what?”

You shake your head. “That’s it,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “That was the only name he ever gave me.”

“Seriously?”

Skye is freaking out, you can tell. But you close your eyes and rest your head back, shutting everything down as she starts ranting about how she was supposed to teach you better about hooking up with strangers and keeping yourself safe.

With her voice turning into white noise at the back of your mind, your memories return to you, taking you back to the eventful night.

You can almost feel yourself being back there again—back in the cold hotel bar with the scent of old wood and liquor lingering in the air; the murmuring sounds of people chatting and laughing, accompanied by the sound of glasses clinking together resonating through the space around you; back to his presence that felt so strong and intense you could barely feel anything else other than him as long as you had your attention fully on him.

“What’s your name?” You remember him asking you with his voice that grew more gentle and deeper the more he drank.

You leaned into him and giggled in response as if he just said something funny to you. “Does it really matter?”

His soft chuckle rumbled around you. The voice was so soft, yet you could hear it clearly because of how close you were leaning into him. “I’m sure I remember being taught not to talk to strangers.”

“Are you telling me that you’ve been a good boy for listening to what your Mom taught you?” you teased him. It was obvious how tipsy you were at this point, which may have been the reason why you were growing more confident.

“Oh, I’ve always been a good boy,” he answered you while looking amused. He went silent right after. His gaze seemed far away just for a fleeting moment before he finally said, “My name is Tae.”

“Tae? That’s it?” you asked, “Is that a codename or something?” You feigned a surprise gasp before you leaned into him further to whisper, “Are you secretly a spy?”

You felt his chest rumbling when he softly laughed. “Something like that, yeah,” he said, as he played along with your joke.

But the moment you leaned away from him, you were surprised when you got to see something in him that you couldn’t see before. His guard was down, allowing you to see the vulnerability that was buried deep under his suave and smooth talking.

For a brief moment, he looked broken. Just like you did.

And from the way he was hiding himself, not only under the short nickname but also from the way he was masking his emotions, you could tell that he was looking for an escape from reality. The same way you did that night.

So you simply smiled at him, choosing not to pry further to see beyond the mask and play along. Because at the same time, you wanted to hide your broken heart and become someone else to be able to forget everything. Just for one night.

“Then you can call me Red. It’s my special codename for tonight.”

His grin widened. You could almost see the relief washing over him through his warm gaze when he looked at you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you tonight,” he said, still with his gentle voice that almost felt like sin licking on your skin when he called you, “Red.”

Two weeks later…

“Here you go,” your mother’s voice snaps you from whatever stupor you have been stuck in. When you open your eyes, a glass of ginger tea has manifested right before you.

“Drink this,” your Mom says as she points at the drink. “It should be good for your stomach.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. Furrowing your brows, you keep your eyes on the drink instead of reaching for it. Thoughts of those past mornings when you and Skye spent searching through the internet to find a way to get rid of your morning sickness come through your mind.

Does she know? Did she figure it out already? Is it really that obvious?

You clench your hands and resist the urge to rub against your stomach. It has become a habit of yours to rub around your belly as if trying to feel the baby that is hiding inside whenever you feel agitated.

After getting the positive results through the home test kits, you had gone straight to the doctor only days before you left the city to have it checked, confirming that a baby is growing inside you. It still feels unbelievable to think about it, even after you saw it yourself with your own eyes.

“It’s still really early, and we might not be seeing much yet, but that’s your baby,” the doctor’s voice echoes through your mind as you tighten your clenched hands, thinking back to the day you went to have an ultrasound and saw for the first time the growing fetus that was said to be viable to grow fully as a baby.

Just like how the baby inside you has been nothing more than a blob of mass floating inside your stomach in your mind, your belly itself has yet to change shape. Even if your full awareness of the baby’s presence has only been causing you to find small changes in your body that nobody else might be able to see.

But Mom has been pregnant before, so wouldn’t she be able to see it? Will that be possible?

“Ginger tea is good for nausea and will give you some energy boost. Your grandma always made it for me whenever I had a stomach ache. I’m sure it’ll help get rid of your nausea and your upset stomach will turn better in no time.” Your Mom stops talking and sighs. “You should’ve told me that you were sick. I wouldn’t have let you drive all the way home if I had known.”

Ah.

You breathe a sigh of relief. You should be thankful that she believed you when you told her about having an upset stomach from the long drive home from the city. It was the only thing that you could think of as an excuse when your Mom wondered why you hadn’t been eating well since you got back home and why you were feeling sick.

It makes you wonder why you have been feeling unwell since you got home. Just when you had purposely waited until you were well enough and had stopped throwing up when you planned for the drive.

It’s almost as if the baby is deliberately making you sick to let everyone know about your secret.

“Thanks, Mom,” you say to your Mom as you reach for the tea, hiding your relieved sigh as you gingerly drink in small sips.

You have lost count of how many times Skye has made you this drink specifically to stop you from vomiting in the morning before going to work. It has been helping a lot to ease your ‘sickness’, and you are feeling it calming your stomach already as the drink warms your body.

You can feel your mother’s eyes on you, making you feel uneasy to be under her watchful gaze. “I think it might be better if you get some rest and take things easy. But are you sure you’re okay?” your Mom asks again, still worrying about you.

You continue drinking the ginger tea slowly while pressing down your guilt. You hate lying to your Mom the most, and now you are starting to regret driving home on your own. If the baby hadn’t been the one responsible for your current sickness, then perhaps driving the long distance has been the reason why your nausea is now coming back with a vengeance.

So much for trying to not draw any suspicions.

“I’m fine, Mom. Really,” you sigh as you place the glass down. “The tea is helping me already. I’ll feel better soon, I promise.”

Your Mom says nothing for a moment, but the crease you see forming on her forehead says differently. “I’m not just talking about you being sick. Maybe there’s another reason why you’re feeling faint?”

You look up at her just then. The moment you catch the pitiful look she is giving you, you finally understand what she is trying to say.

Just as Skye predicted, it didn’t take long for your family to take notice of your solo arrival. In the past, Hansol would have joined you to visit your family for a day or two during the holidays before he would return to his family on Christmas day. So his absence was quite obvious from the get-go.

And with the big lie that you have to hide from everyone at home, you had to at least give them one honest truth the moment they started asking.

“We ended things a few months ago,” you admitted to your family during the first dinner you had since you got home. By that time, you had already tried to avoid the questions for long enough. Nobody has brought up about it again since then.

Until now.

“If you’re talking about the breakup, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m okay, Mom. It’s been months since it happened. I’ve been trying to move one.”

In fact, you haven’t been thinking about your ex at all for a long time. Not until you brought it up to Skye and then again when your family started questioning. The only thing you have been worrying about lately is the baby growing inside you and finding a way to search for the father of the baby.

It was the one thing that you talked about with Skye before you left. While you are capable enough to raise the baby on your own, you decided it would be the best course of action to contact the father and let him know.

In Skye’s own words, “Just in case.”

Just in case the father would care enough to know that he has a son or a daughter coming into this world and wants to be in their life.

“But if we fail to find him or he wants nothing to do with the baby, then we’ll deal with it on our own. You just got your promotion, I got my good pay. We can raise the baby together. You and me, just like old times.”

Skye’s words put a smile on your face. She always knows how to lift your spirit up whenever you feel like giving up, and those exact words have helped boost your confidence and made you believe that you could get through this.

But first, you just need to get through spending this holiday with your family.

“I know you said that. But as your Mom, I can’t help but worry. I thought you were serious and we’ll be hearing some good news about you getting married this year.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Sorry, Mom,” you tease her with a bitter chuckle. You don’t bother to mention that the two of you had never once talked about marriage throughout your relationship.

Yet another sign that you overlooked. At least you never got to waste anymore time with him.

“Things just didn’t work out between us. It happens when a couple grow into two different people in the course of their relationship. Which was exactly what happened to us. Hansol wanted to focus on his career, in return, I also got the chance to focus on mine.”

Just as you said the words, you realise that this is true for your case.

Hansol has always been career-driven, and it has been growing stronger lately for him with the constant rise he was experiencing in his current company. And breaking up with your long-time boyfriend has allowed you to turn your focus on your job. The recent promotion you gained was a testament to your hard work to show you that there might be a silver lining to everything that has happened.

“I suppose you’re right,” your Mom says with a smile. You are beginning to feel a bit relieved that she seems to understand. You are hoping that she would start talking about something else when she adds, “I just feel sad that it didn’t work out for you. And we were all expecting to have Hansol joining us again this year. I guess it’s too late now to let your sister know about this since she’s supposed to arrive today.”

Stepsister.

You lift your glass and slowly drink your tea to stop yourself from correcting her. For some reason, you feel a bit bitter having your mother mention her all so suddenly.

It isn’t that you hate your stepsister. It’s hard to feel something so extreme when you barely had any relationship with her at all. Back when you were younger, your mother did try to get you two to get along and be friends.

To make her happy, you tried your best to act friendly, or at least to be cordial whenever she was around, even when the only thing she showed you over the years had been nothing but contempt.

But things changed after a drunken fit that she had last holiday season, when she got drunk and tried to make a move and openly flirted with your then-boyfriend. Even if nothing ever came out of it except for her own embarrassment, as Hansol openly rejected her and stayed away from her for the remaining time he was here, the incident still left a bad taste that made you feel bitter.

That was when you finally decided that you would stop trying to be nice.

You put down the glass and try to remain calm. What’s done is done. All you have to do is focus on getting through this holiday before going back to the city and start with your mission to search for the baby’s father.

“What does Alia have to do with my break up?” you ask your mother, hoping that she wouldn’t bring up the drama from last year.

“Oh, it’s nothing serious, really,” your Mom answers with a soft chuckle, “It’s just that Alia called home sometime last week, asking if she could bring someone over this Christmas. She said that she’s been seeing someone new and since she was bringing him to meet her mother, she wondered if it would be okay if she could bring him along to meet us too.”

Your Mom sighs, looking a bit guilty when she adds, “We figured since you might bring Hansol with you, it would be okay if she has her new boyfriend along. Maybe the guys could get along and spend time together while you and Alia catch up.”

You try to imagine you and Alia catching up like old friends or—just like what your Mom has been wishing you to be—as sisters, and you almost shake your head.

Yeah, that seems unlikely, you bitterly wonder to yourself, yet you don’t have the heart to tell your mother that there is not much hope for you and Alia to be good friends.

“I guess it’s a shame that Hansol isn’t here,” you simply say to your mother while you inwardly wonder just what your stepsister is really up to this year.

“Yeah, it’s unfortunate,” your mother says with a sigh. “But I’m glad that at least both of you girls can make it home this year.”

“Me too, Mom,” you force a smile, silently hoping that you can start talking about something else. Something that doesn’t concern your bitter stepsister coming home or bringing up any dark thoughts about your ex. “So, what are we having for dinner? Want my help in the kitchen?”

Your question immediately puts everything into motion, drifting her attention away from your sappy story and the false hope of sisterhood that may never happen between you and your stepsister. Your Mom tries to stop you from helping out in the kitchen at first but finally gives in when you keep insisting.

At least, this way, you can keep your mind busy enough to stop it from thinking about unnecessary thoughts the way it often does when you are alone.

Things seem to be going on well enough at first, until your sickness returns and you have to give up trying.

”See, I told you that you should be resting until you feel better,” your mother complains as she watches you bending over, keeping away from the stove and what is currently cooking on top of it which seems to be making you feel dizzy and sick.

After garlic, lemon-scented air freshener, and coconut milk, seems you are going to have to add raw chicken to the list of things that may trigger your nausea.

“But then I’ll be bored like hell,” you argue, “I’m fine, Mom. Just let me take a quick break for a minute.”

Your mother looks as if she wants to say something, but the sound of a car coming into the driveway interrupts her. Both of you turn to look out towards the living room, just in time to see your stepfather, Cliff, turning in the corner of the hall and rushing towards the front door.

“Honey, they’re here!” he calls out, and you urge your mother to join him.

“Go, Mom. I’ll finish things up and make sure nothing gets burned before I join you guys.”

Once your mother is out of the kitchen, you can no longer resist pressing your palm on your stomach.

“Seriously, baby,” you whisper to the non-existent bump under your sweater, “Please take it easy, will you? I’m really struggling here, and you’re not making things easy for me. Trust me, it would be too soon for everyone to find out about you. At least wait until we can find a clue about your Dad, okay?”

As if the baby inside you is listening, even if it is still barely full-grown at this point, your body grows calmer and the nausea slowly wanes.

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper to your stomach once again before finally focusing on the stove and the oven, deliberately taking your time with what you do just so you can have a reason not to join the dramatic reunion happening right this minute.

From this side of the kitchen, the front door isn’t completely visible. But you can hear everything as the door opens and your stepfather joyfully welcomes his daughter.

Hearing his voice makes you smile. You may have had a tumultuous relationship with your stepsister, but the same cannot be said with your stepfather. Cliff has always been a great role model, and your relationship with him has always been great from the start.

It makes you feel guilty when you think about the previous encounters where you and your stepsister simply gave each other cold shoulders or when you were met with altercations just because of how different the two of you are. But there is no helping it. Nothing has changed over the years no matter how hard you tried. Not even once you have become adults.

You can’t even remember how it first started. And frankly, you no longer care. Last year’s incident was already enough to let you know that the sisterhood that your parents have been forcing you into was beyond saving.

The voices coming from the front door continue for a moment longer. This time, you get to hear your mother’s voice joining in the conversation and Alia’s soft voice answering her questions. You make no effort to listen to what they are saying and tune out their voices, until your mother’s voice calls out to you.

“______, your sister is here. Come and say hi.”

Your mother’s words make you stop. Slowly, you turn down the heat on the stove and turn to make your way towards the front door to join the family reunion.

“It’s stepsister,” you mutter under your breath as you drag your feet, taking your sweet time while you try to compose yourself before having to face the unwanted guests.

As you turn around the corner, merely moments before the front door finally comes into view, you get to hear another voice speaking. The voice that you couldn’t clearly hear from the kitchen while you were tuning their conversation out.

“I’m sorry for intruding. But thank you for having me here.”

That voice.

You immediately come to a halt. An uneasy feeling runs through your body when you realise that you recognise this voice and have grown to know it quite well.

There is no mistaking it. You may not have gotten his full name on the night you met, and his face has somewhat become a faint mirage in your dreams at night whenever you are taken back to the night of your hookup.

But you cannot say the same about his voice.

That deep and gentle voice will always be engraved in your memory. Even now, the only thing you would need to do is close your eyes and listen, and allow the voice to take you back to that specific night once more, where he used this voice to say sinful words that you could feel caressing your fragile heart while he was bringing you to the peak of pleasure.

And now you are hearing that voice here, at your home, idly chatting with your mother by the front door.

“_______, are you coming?” your mother calls again, and you know that there is no avoiding it. You have to face reality, even if that means you must come face to face with the man who is responsible for placing you in this situation.

Tamping down the rush of nerves going through your body, you slowly march ahead. Bracing yourself as you turn around the corner and enter the living room where everyone is currently gathering in.

Your eyes fall on your stepsister first.

Alia has always looked so vibrant and beautiful, drawing all kinds of attention from everyone in the room whenever she is present. Yet when you look at her now, there seems to be a new kind of light emerging from her. Even her smile seems brighter as she chats along with your stepfather.

And you soon realise the reason why she is shining brightly today as you turn your gaze to look at the person standing beside her. To finally see him.

He looks just like how you remember him. Tall and lean, with his arms and chest filling up his sweater. He has his hair falling over a part of his face, just enough of a mess that seems as if he has been running his fingers through the wavy strands. As he converses with your mother, he shows his boxy grin that seems familiar to your eyes.

Too familiar.

Because it looks just the same as the wide grin that was teasing and flirting with you on one eventful night at the transit hotel weeks ago.

No. That can’t be.

The baby’s daddy is here. The man who you were planning to look for once you return to the city.

He is here, today, appearing at the front door of your parents’ home together with your stepsister. His long fingers that had once entangled between the strands of your hair are now entwined with your stepsister’s dainty fingers. And there is no mistaking the matching couple rings that are glowing under the sunlight coming from their entwined hands.

Before you get the chance to process what is happening, you hear him introducing himself to your stepfather, “It’s good to see you, Sir. My name is Taehyung.”

No.

You stifle a gasp. It feels like you have been sucker-punched right in the chest that you can barely breathe.

Taehyung, you wonder. Tae?

All of a sudden, you feel as if the ground beneath your feet is tilting over, slowly taking you down with it. And since you seem to have lost the ability to move your feet, the only thing you can do to stop yourself from falling is to clench your hands tightly by your side. Tight enough to feel pain as your nails are sinking into your palms, convincing you that this is not a dream.

Yet you are still in denial as you watch the interaction happening right before your eyes. Because there is no way this is happening. There is no possible way that it is truly him.

Please. Please don’t let it be him.

It must have been your mind playing tricks on you. Because there is no way that he is here. Not as your stepsister’s new boyfriend.

This must be a mistake. Yes, you are probably confused and all the thoughts of finding your baby daddy are messing up with your head, forcing you to believe that your stepsister’s new boyfriend is your mysterious baby daddy. The fact that they have the same name must have been pure coincidence.

For once in your life, you don’t want to be right. You have to be wrong.

Please tell me that it’s not him.

Just then, as if life was listening to your prayers, as if life has yet to have enough of its games to play around with your heart, the man turns his gaze away from your parents. And those pretty eyes land on you.

As if there is a switch turned, the brightness in his gaze fades. His beautiful eyes are filled with recognition. It is so subtle that you are quite sure that nobody else around you notices it, but it is enough to let you know that your memories have been right all along.

Because those are the same eyes that you saw looking back at you with pure lust and sin while he was bringing you wanton pleasure, when you made love as if both of you had been under a spell, right on the very night that may have changed your fate forever.

Fuck.

Me.

At one glance, this moment would seem like any other pre-holiday family dinner. It may seem picture perfect, even—if you had been a stranger looking in.

There are still a couple of days left until Christmas Day, yet the festive mood has already filled the room. From the living room, all the way to the dining room, Christmas decorations are already plastered across the walls and hung from the ceiling. On the dining table, the delectable meal that your mother worked hard to prepare—with your poor assistance—had been perfectly laid out.

With Alia’s arrival today, the immediate family is now complete. Ever the charming daughter, Alia takes up the attention of everyone around her as she shares her story—about how she has been travelling between different states and some neighbouring countries, changing jobs, finding new hobbies, and even planning to adopt a new pet.

Sitting at the head of the table, your stepfather is soaking it all in, enjoying the time he has with his daughter whom he rarely gets to see throughout the year. Your mother sits on his right, getting the front seat of their merry reunion. She would sometimes chime in, never failing to try to get you into joining their idle chat even when you are not feeling up to it.

Other times, you would have been able to easily play along. From making cordial comments and joining with all the light jokes shared by your family, or feigning interest in anything that Alia might be sharing at the table—even when she rarely would share the same courtesy when you did the same.

Tonight, however, it feels like a struggle for you to focus on the conversation shared at the table, let alone pretend to be interested. Not when you are busy trying your best to calm your nerves.

You can't even embrace the same warm atmosphere that everyone seems to be sharing.

For you, the air around feels stifling and tense. It has been this way ever since you sat down right next to your mother for dinner. Because due to the seating arrangement, the special guest of the night is now sitting right across from you at the table.

Taehyung.

The last person that you had ever expected to see. Not here. Certainly not at your home or sharing the same space with your parents.

It seems surreal to meet him here like this. Even more so when he was introduced to your family as Alia’s new boyfriend.

Judging from the way he reacted when he first saw you, you can tell that he never expected something like this could ever happen. You know that he has questions, perhaps just as much as you do, yet the situation that you found yourself in right now isn’t allowing you to even show any sign that the two of you know each other or to have met before today.

But there is something in the way he is looking at you that doesn’t sit right with you. Aside from the lingering shock you see each time your eyes accidentally meet each other, there is a look that shows a semblance of guilt, despair, and at the same time, filled with wonder.

Was it because he never expected to see you again after that night, much less to find out that you are somehow related to the woman that he is dating? Or was there something else going through his mind?

“This is Alia’s sister, ______,” was what your mother said when she first introduced you to him. At that point, you and Taehyung were stunned to silence, and for a brief moment, neither of you reacted.

Thinking about it now, you can’t even remember how you managed to join your family in the living room. The moment you saw Taehyung standing there, your legs nearly gave out. It was a wonder how you managed to stop yourself from falling or tripping as you walked over to them in a state of distraught.

“Hi, it’s good to see you,” was all that you managed to croak out of once you snapped out of it. You didn’t even give him a chance to respond when you suddenly turned your attention to your stepsister, forcing a smile on your face when you greeted her, “Hey, Alia. It’s good to see you. You seem well.”

You can’t even remember the expression that Alia gave you when she responded to you, “Uh yeah, thanks. You too.”

“Right. Well, I’ll let you guys settle in. I left the stove on, so—”

That was the last thing you said before you turned away and quickly left the room, practically running away from him to hide back in the kitchen. The last thing you heard as you walked away was your mother’s voice saying something about you being her assistant of the day in the kitchen while you were feeling unwell, as if excusing you for your unmannerly attitude.

By the time you got back in the kitchen, your hands were shaking, your heartbeat was racing so fast you could barely breathe. It took a long time for the shock to wane, and you had spent the rest of the day staying away from both of them, avoiding him entirely until you were finally called to join dinner.

And you are still avoiding him even now, keeping your head down as much as you can and resisting the urge to look his way. As if it isn’t hard enough for you to have him sitting right in front of you, you can feel the heat of his gaze constantly following you whenever you are not looking.

He doesn’t make it so obvious, and it doesn’t seem like anyone else has noticed it yet. Perhaps you are just too hyperaware of his presence that you caught on to it so easily.

You sneak a glance at your stepsister, wondering if Alia has taken notice of her boyfriend’s wandering gaze or where he has been directing his eyes. It takes you watching the conversation between her and your parents more closely to see it.

Because it turns out that she also has her own gaze wandering to questionable places at the same time that she isn’t paying much attention to her boyfriend.

Each time Alia turns to regard your mother or speak to her, her gaze flickers away briefly, ever so subtly landing on the seat to your right. At the seat that Hansol would usually occupy whenever he joined you during these holiday visits.

It is easy to catch it when you are seeing it from your angle. And it is easy to guess what is going through her head when she keeps doing it with a curious look written all over her face. An unspoken question seems to linger, while the incident from last year keeps flashing through your head when you picture Hansol being present beside you.

Even if nobody notices her intention, you doubt that anyone would question her about it, seeing that the seat that was supposed to be left empty has been taken by someone else.

While you are busy trying to make sense out of everything, your grandmother makes a disapproval noise with her tongue, grabbing your attention. “Are you still feeling under the weather? You’ve been drinking that boring thing the whole day,” she says, referring to the glass of iced tea that you have just put down after taking a drink from it to cool down.

You turn to look at your dear grandmother, Honey, and smile at her. She probably hasn’t realised what a saving grace she has been for taking the unoccupied seat to your right the minute she came in for dinner.

And she is now helping you again by drawing your attention away from the source of your dismay. Immediately, you feel better the moment you are met with Honey’s smile.

“I’m feeling much better, actually. I’m just being careful not to drink anything that might get me sick,” you answer carefully, hoping to sound reasonable enough without making anyone question your ‘sickness’ any further.

The more you lie to your family about it, the more guilty you feel. You don’t have much choice at the moment but to hide it just a bit longer.

At first, you couldn’t share the news with your parents simply because you were still clueless about how you were going to find the father of the baby with only limited information you had of him. But then things only got even more complicated for you to ever come clean when he walked through the front door of your parents’ home.

What are the odds that the man you hooked up with turns out to be the man your stepsister is currently dating? And here you are now, stuck in the same room with them while hiding a secret which may change the course of everyone’s entire life.

Yeah, miracles don’t exist. Not for me, at least.

Honey taps at your hand on the table as you grow silent, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head. “You know what you need?” she asks, whispering in a conspiring tone that she barely keeps down so that everyone at the table can still hear her voice.

And she does it while looking at you with her wide, expecting eyes, with the barely concealed mischief written all over her face. It makes you smile, knowing where this is going. So you simply play along.

"No, Honey. What would that be?”

Her mischievous smile widens as she leans closer. “A hint of rum. With a few drops into that boring tea of yours, you’ll feel better in no time,” she says, lifting her hand and showing you a pinching gesture with her thumb and forefinger nearly touching each other, “Just a pinch. Or better yet, just trade your whole glass—”

The sound of your Mom’s frustrated sigh cuts her off. “Mom, I already told you, giving her alcohol isn’t going to make her feel better. I’ve already given her some herbal tea, that should be enough until she can get a proper rest.”

“Oh, posh,” Honey says, waving her hand at your mother. “Ignore your Mom,” Honey says just as you are about to respond. “I’m telling you. Alcohol is best to cure your heartbreak,” she adds, and you certainly have no arguments against that. Alcohol might be able to help you forget.

But, alas…

But, wait a minute. You stop and look closely at Honey. What is she talking about?

“What do you mean?” you question her while tilting your head, wondering deep down if she had noticed something. Surely, she wouldn’t be able to tell the high tension rolling between you and Taehyung through dinner.

Nobody else could. But you also know that if there is anyone in your family who might be able to catch on with the tension rolling between the two of you, it would be Honey.

Once again, Honey reaches out and taps her dainty fingers on the back of your hand. “Isn’t that why you’re feeling down, peaches? I know you’re still thinking about that good for nothing—”

Honey stops herself and bites down her smile before you can figure out what she is about to say. But you have heard enough to understand who she is referring to.

Relief washes over you when you realise that she was talking about your ex, Hansol. She must have thought that you have been stressing over the breakup and you have been feeling unwell because of it.

Honey leans in, this time lowering her voice just enough only for you to hear. “You must’ve taken it from me. I also get a stomach bug when I’m stressed out. Just like last summer when I lost a go-stop game against the ladies from the block,” she says, before she continues blabbering about how she had made bets during the game and went all-in only to lose everything.

“You might think that they’re nothing but small pennies used for gambling coins, but I spent a whole week collecting them. How am I supposed to replace all of them before the next game?” she continues to complain, while you laugh at her.

Her story takes away the tension on your shoulders for a brief moment before she adds, “And then you had to come here and watch these two being all lovey-dovey with each other.”

As Honey mentions the pair sitting across the table, waving her hand at them to make a point, your eyes are drawn towards them once more. And your gaze lands right on Alia’s hand which is now resting on top of Taehyung’s.

Seeing this makes you feel tight in the chest. Bitterness fills your mouth which you can barely hide with a tight smile. Honey may not have been entirely correct with her assumptions, yet her comment still hits the mark somehow.

Not about Hansol, obviously, as he is the one to occupy your mind the least. Yet she wasn’t too far off when she talked about the new pair of lovers before you. Seeing them does make you uncomfortable, miserable even, but for entirely different reasons.

Looking away from their joined hands, your gaze meets Alia’s. She is wearing an unreadable expression on her face as she listens in to Honey’s words. And the strange look that she is giving you now is making you feel uneasy.

Just as you start wondering if Alia has noticed something, she instead asks you, “You guys broke up?”

She throws a quick glance at Honey’s seat with a frown. For others, she might seem concerned, yet there is a look in her eyes which tells you that there is something more. “I was wondering why I haven’t seen him around. He was with us last holiday.”

Her comment rubs you in the wrong way. You have no idea why she would care when your relationship has nothing to do with her. But you try to not let it bother you. “Yes, it’s been months now since we broke up. I only told Mom and Dad yesterday when I first got home.”

“I see,” she says. Her voice comes out so softly that it almost comes out as a murmur. She pulls her hand back and places it on her lap. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry,” she adds while offering a small smile. And for some reason, she also seems guilty.

Does she think it has something to do with what happened last year?

Her words remind you of something that she said to you last year, back on the morning you confronted her after her drunken blunder which happened the night before.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s just drunk talking.”

That incident shouldn’t be bothering you today. Yet it still makes you feel bitter when you think about it. The feeling only grows worse when you glance at Taehyung who is showing a sudden interest in this whole thing.

“It’s fine. Sometimes things just don’t work out,” you simply repeat the same thing you said to your mother earlier while biting back the real question that is hanging right at the tip of your tongue.

But what’s in it to you?

No matter how curious you are to know what kind of scheme that is going through her pretty little head, you know it’s not worth all the drama that it might cause. You cannot even possibly imagine the drama that would unfold once this whole baby thing comes out.

God, just thinking about it is already making your stomach churn. Your lower abdomen suddenly feels hard and heavy. As if you have a full-size lead inside instead of a small, growing blob that is about to form into an actual living baby within a few weeks from now.

Thinking about the baby, your eyes find the man who is behind all of this. He has grown oddly quiet while you were conversing with your stepsister and is now staring at his food with a frown on his face.

“So tell me,” you ask calmly while clenching your hands, doing your best to hide the trembles, “How did you two meet?”

This question immediately draws Taehyung’s attention. His eyes snap up, but the moment he looks at you, his face seems to grow pale and he becomes awfully nervous.

“We, uh—we used to work at the same company before Alia left to venture into other things,” he says, almost stuttering. He also keeps stealing glances at Alia, as if begging her to help him out.

Huh, strange.

What is it about answering your simple question which makes him so nervous?

Or perhaps…

Have they been seeing each other when the two of you hooked up?

Fuck.

The moment this thought crosses your mind, you suddenly feel sick. Your stomach grows heavier with anxiety. Meanwhile, Alia’s smile seems to beam brighter.

“We didn’t work in the same division back then, but we would frequently meet during breaks and company hours. Had it been, what, a year after we last met?” Alia turns to Taehyung, who stiffly nods his head. She grabs his hand once again and looks at him lovingly as she continues, “We met again last summer by chance while I was travelling and started talking since then.”

Last summer? But that was before—

Your head starts spinning. You grab your glass and take a couple of small sips of your tea to regain composure, yet the drink suddenly tastes bitter on your tongue.

Honey’s voice barely registers in your brain when she responds with a hum. “Travelling in the summer? That sounds like a charming way to meet a new lover,” she says, lifting her mug to her lips as she continues marvelling at your stepsister’s story. “You must have felt some sparks when you two met. I bet you’re still feeling it now, aren’t you?”

You have no idea what she has inside that ceramic mug, as she had been nursing the same drink since even before dinner started. You can bet money that she had more than a pinch of rum dropped inside that drink of hers, seeing how talkative she is becoming.

Oh, how you wish you could have a taste of it. Just a sip would have been good enough. Maybe it can also help to stop your hands from trembling.

“And the ring?” Honey asks again with a teasing tone as she points at their entwined hands. “I noticed that you two are wearing matching rings. You can’t possibly be engaged already, can you?”

Almost choking on your drink, you slowly set your glass back down and pull your hands onto your lap, hiding them from prying eyes just in time as they begin to shake.

“But it wasn’t that different back in the day,” Honey continues, “I remember that Russ—that’s my dear late husband,” she explains to Taehyung, “he bought me a cheap ring at the beginning of our relationship to show me and my parents that he was serious about courting me.”

On any other times that Honey would speak about your late grandfather, you would always enjoy listening to every word, admiring how she would always share her story with pure love in her voice and wonder glowing in her eyes.

But not this time.

Ever since she pointed out the ring and started talking about your grandfather’s old promises, you start having trouble breathing. The more she speaks, the worse it gets, and now there is a ringing sound echoing in your ear that seems to be coming from different directions.

“I still keep the ring with me, side by side with the wedding ring that doesn’t fit anymore on these wrinkly fingers of mine,” Honey keeps gushing. She raises her hands and starts wiggling her fingers to show them off, while your whole body grows tense.

Alia shares a nervous laugh with Taehyung and waves her hand at Honey. “Oh, no…it’s actually a part of a joke that we—”

You try to tune out the voices, the words that are being said, while clasping your hands tighter together on your lap, but the shaking doesn’t stop. Alia’s voice fades in and out beyond the loud ringing in your head as she continues to tell her story about how they started dating and the ring came to be. With everything that is going on, added with your awareness over Taehyung’s intense gaze that doesn’t seem to waver, it becomes too overwhelming that you feel as if you are slowly being swallowed into the ground beneath you.

With a sharp gasp, you slowly push yourself out of your seat. “Excuse me, I have to—” your voice cracks as you speak. As you stand, you notice that everyone has their eyes on you, all curious to know what is happening with you.

“_______?” you hear your mother calling you.

You can feel the blood draining from your face under all the unwanted attention, making you wish that you could just fade away right at that moment. But then your hand find its way to your stomach, and it almost feels like there is a touch of warmth forming under your palm. It helps you force a smile and gather yourself just enough to say, “I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to step out early. I hope that’s alright. You guys enjoy the rest of dinner.”

You don’t wait for anyone’s response as you turn away, finding your escape merely moments before you get into a full-blown meltdown right in front of everyone.

Your legs are wobbly as you walk down the hall, yet you still manage to slip into the guest bathroom downstairs. With trembling hands, you lock the door behind you, shutting yourself from the world outside.

And that is when you fall apart, turning into a heaving mess as everything that you have been bottling up inside comes flooding out of you.

“Breathe,” you command yourself while you fight back against your nausea. Holding onto the bathroom counter, you keep yourself and try your best to focus on controlling your breath.

Take a slow, deep breath. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Little by little, all the tension, the trembling, and the tightness in your chest begin to wane. But once everything is gone, once you begin to find calmness, your emotions seize control of you.

The next thing you know, an unstoppable flow of tears comes running down your face and you start sobbing, crying in defeat.

“Shit. Fuck. What a mess,” you curse between each sob, feeling absolutely helpless and alone. You close your eyes, hoping that you can clear your head by doing so. Yet your mind keeps going to dark places. Constantly wondering and questioning about all of this.

About him.

“Did he ever mention anything that was related to his personal life that night?” you cannot help but wonder out loud.

Only silence answers. Because you hold little to no recollection of the details from the conversation you shared with him that night. Whenever you try to remember, it always feels like there was a part of your memory that had gone missing.

You haven’t had the slightest clue of the things you shared with him at the bar once the drinks started coming more frequently. Which is a wonder, because you are completely sure that neither of you had gotten drunk enough to experience a blackout, much less lose a memory.

At least for you, the alcohol was just enough to burn through your nerves and help build your confidence to take the lead and openly show the attraction you had for him. Even if he did end up taking back control the moment the two of you finally gave in to temptation.

Your head starts pounding, aching the more you try to remember the missing details. Meanwhile, all the questions won’t stop coming, making it harder for you to regain a peaceful mind.

Did he ever mention having a girlfriend, or at least give any hint that he was taken?

Was he wearing that ring on his finger when he was touching your skin under the dim light of his bedroom suite?

You shake your head and close your eyes again when you still remember nothing. The only thing that remains in your memory is the look you saw in his gaze that night. The pitiful look that seemed to mirror yours, making you believe that he was looking for the same thing you did that night.

An escape. A way to forget even if for a moment.

But what if that was all just another lie?

Your stomach churns. A sharp pain comes shooting through your body. It starts from your lower abdomen, causing you to almost double over.

Fuck. Now what?

Your hand instantly comes down to your stomach, pressing and rubbing gently against it until the uncomfortable ache ebbs under your touch.

Right, I’m supposed to avoid any form of stress, you remind yourself as you recall what your doctor told you the last time you went to see her. Something about getting your blood tension rising when you are stressed, and that it wouldn’t be good for both you and the baby in the long run. Closing your eyes, you try to think of happy thoughts, all while keeping your palm pressed on your stomach.

To your surprise, rubbing your palm against the barely-there baby bump on your belly isn’t just helping you to soothe the pain away, but also to calm yourself down.

With a sigh, you gently wipe your tears and look down. “I’m sorry for swearing so much, baby. I promise to stop doing it once you’ve grown big enough to start hearing things so you won’t learn any of it too soon. But fuck, this is too much.”

It feels odd to speak like this to the living being growing inside you that is barely more than a piece of flesh. Yet speaking to your growing baby seems to help ease your anxiety a little.

Better yet, it helps make you feel less alone.

“Let’s not think any bad thoughts. Let’s not assume that your Dad is an asshole, okay? Not until we get to hear the full story,” you whisper to the tiny human growing inside you. The more you speak to it, the more it seems to be helping you to find some ease of mind.

But even if it turns out that he was…

“Then I can deal with it later with my head held high,” you murmur to yourself in a soft, yet reassuring tone of voice. And you repeat it again, and again, almost as if you are chanting a spell which would be able to give you a boost of confidence.

It may not immediately change the way you look at things, yet you can feel it slowly rising within you. It feels like a ray of light, the first spark of hope that you get to feel amid all the uncertainty which surrounds you.

Soon enough, the strong urge to cry no longer overcomes you. Even your hands have stopped shaking. All that you have left is exhaustion. It rolls through your body with a vengeance, and there is nothing that you want more right now other than to curl up like a ball on your bed and sleep it off.

You raise your head to look at yourself in the mirror, and instantly a bitter laugh escapes you at what you are seeing.

Because you look like a complete mess. Your life is slowly turning into shambles, and it seems to be mocking you through your own reflection that is now staring back at you.

“Just exactly what I need,” you whisper with a sigh.

I need to be stronger, if only for the sake of this little one in me, you tell yourself as you splash cold water at your face to wash away all the mess—the drying tears, your swollen eyes, and the skin on your face which has yet to regain its normal colours.

It feels therapeutic to be washing everything off, leaving nothing more but your swollen eyes which you can explain as a part of your sickness. You may not be strong enough to take on the world, but at least now, you are prepared to face the reality that is waiting for you right outside of this door.

No matter how fucking messy it is.

Having this new revelation should be giving you a newfound credence that could push you forward. And yet there is none of that here. The only thing you are feeling now is the new bout of anxiety rolling up through your body, starting from your stomach as it churns painfully.

“Yeah, now I feel sick,” you groan as you rush to the toilet bowl, seconds away before you start dumping the small amount of food you had during dinner into waste.

It takes a bit longer than expected before you finally find the courage to step out of the bathroom.

Soft murmurs filter into the bathroom the moment you open the door. You can tell that the voices are coming from the living room, which means that the family has gathered there after dinner. It allows you to breathe a sigh of relief. At least this way you wouldn’t have to hide or make excuses if you have to bump into someone on your way to your bedroom.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you are relieved that nobody is around. Everyone should be in the living room, so you make haste, hoping to be able to escape before anyone notices.

But as you turn to the next hallway, someone is standing in your way. The light is dim, yet you can easily recognise him before you get any closer. Standing with his back leaning against the wall, he has his hands tucked into his pockets and his eyes looking absently into the distance.

As though he has been waiting for you.

Taehyung turns when he notices you coming. Before you can start to wonder what he is doing here, a smile grows on his face.

“Hey, is everything okay? Everyone was worried,” he asks you, sounding genuinely concerned.

The calm tone of his voice might be a bit deceiving if only you are not looking into his eyes. His gaze keeps wavering as he speaks, as if he is unable to look at you for too long. The same guilt you saw earlier is still present in his eyes. And you hate seeing it there.

It only tells you that he has a secret that he is keeping from you. You have no idea how to feel about it. But if it has to do with his relationship with Alia, then—

“I’m fine, it’s just—”

Your cheeks grow warm the moment you speak, feeling embarrassed at how dry your voice sounds. “It’s nothing. You heard my Mom, I’ll be better in no time.”

You have so many things to say to him. So many questions that you would like to give him. But you are too tired to do anything. Much less to talk. As much as you can convince yourself that you are ready to face anything, now is not the right time to do it.

So you keep your mouth shut and try to walk past him instead. Only that he isn’t letting you go that easily.

“You know, it really is nice to see you again, Red.”

His voice sounds so subdued that you almost miss it. You come to a halt. Your heartbeat starts picking up again. If you ever needed confirmation that the sinful night you shared with him truly happened, and that he remembered any part of it, then this is it.

His comment which instantly brings you back to that fateful night. The nickname that he used to call you then.

You close your eyes, refusing to remember the way he managed to draw out a myriad of sensations with his voice alone. You refuse to be brought back there again. Not now, when your mind isn’t clear enough to be dealing with this. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself just enough to face him.

Only to be met with his amused smile as he looks at you.

“I was surprised to see you. I never would have thought that you could somehow be related to Alia.” He lets out a chuckle. It sounds empty and a bit bitter, mirroring exactly how you are feeling right now.

Your chest feels tight, hating the way he is saying her name. Nor do you enjoy seeing the way his gaze changes when he does it. Annoyance fills your chest that you can barely speak, while he remains in his blissful ignorance as he continues talking,

“Funny how life works, doesn’t it? I kept thinking about you after we met and wondered if we would ever see each other again. I regretted that I didn’t ask for your number before we parted ways. I didn’t even get to ask for your real name.”

The tightness in your chest grows tenfold.

You never admitted it before—not to yourself, and not even to Skye, when you first talked about him—yet there was some point between that night and the day you found out about the pregnancy that you spent your nights wondering if you would ever see him again.

If there had been one thing that you regretted about that night, it would be the decision you made to leave the next morning without asking for his real name or leaving any means of contact.

A night to escape from reality.

That was all it meant for you at the time. So when the morning came, it was time for you to return to reality. Your reality. Your real life. And you were too busy preparing yourself to face all the hurt, the bad memories, and the stressful life that had nothing to do with the desirable woman that he brought into his bed the night before to even consider exchanging contacts with him.

It didn’t matter if you were still riding the high of that night’s self-gratification and wanton pleasure through the rest of your trip. The moment everything ended, you simply moved on from it. Putting everything about that night to the back of your mind as you returned to your normal life and quickly fell back into your normal routine.

Until weeks later, when life decided to fuck you over and you ended up with a baby growing inside you, and you had no way to find or contact him to inform him about it.

“I guess it can’t be helped, given the circumstances.” Your conviction quickly melts into dread once you are reminded of the current circumstances. “It’s kinda too late now to talk about it and regret what didn’t happen, don’t you think? Seeing that you’re now dating my stepsister.”

Taehyung winces. For a brief moment, you almost believe you can see a glimpse of hurt flickering through his gaze. And for some reason, it only pisses you off.

So he doesn’t like being reminded of the fact that he is here for someone else?

“Look, about Alia. I was hoping that we could talk. Maybe when all of this is done, or maybe after the holidays we can—”

He continues talking, but you aren’t hearing anything. The questions that flooded your brain earlier come flashing back. The ringing that pained you returns. Everything lasts for a few more seconds before your mind clears out, and only one question remains.

“Were the two of you already dating when we slept together?”

He falls silent, taken aback.

“No!” he immediately says, almost shouting. But he quickly reins himself before his voice would reach where everyone is and draw their attention. “Fuck, no. Is that why you’ve been sulking all through dinner?” he asks you with a hiss. He seems offended and hurt at the same time. “I’m not that kind of guy. Trust me.”

“Sulking?” you let out an incredulous laugh. Is that how he saw it? When you were coming close to breaking apart right in front of everyone because of him?

“How am I supposed to trust you when I barely know you? How am I supposed to know that you’re telling the truth?” you snap back at him with a hiss. “Just because we fucked it doesn’t mean that I’d magically know everything about you.”

Again, he winces at your question. As if your words come to him like a slap on his face. He takes a deep breath and speaks more calmly in response, “Look, we should talk. Soon. I can explain everything. But not now, okay?”

As much as you hate to admit it, or to agree with him, you decide that he is right. There are a lot of things that you need to discuss with him, and now is not the right time to do it. Not when your emotions are all over the place and when he has his girlfriend keeping him in close sight most of the time.

“I agree. We do need to talk,” you finally agree, even though you know that both of you have different things in mind.

You have no idea what he intends to discuss with you. The only thing that matters to you is to talk about the baby that you conceived together. And hopefully, decide what will happen next.

“I should go,” you sigh, feeling exhausted and drained. “I need to lie down. This is too much for me to process.”

You try to walk around him so you can continue on your way. Your head is pounding, and you have the dire need to rest in your comfortable bed, where you would be able to feel safe and hide away from all of this.

“Wait,” Taehyung stops you before you can go too far.

“What?” you ask him, feeling exasperated—both from the stress and from the way your body still tingles each time you hear his voice. You really need to get away from him.

“Nothing, it’s just…” he starts, suddenly looking nervous with what he is about to say. The sound of laughter echoes from the living room, making him glance over his shoulder briefly before speaking to you with a lowered voice, “Can you do me a favour?”

You frown at him. “What is it?”

He looks wary, and it makes you feel uneasy in the stomach as you wait for him to speak.

But what he says next makes you feel even worse. “Please don’t tell Alia that we’ve met before, more importantly that we hooked up that night.”

You say nothing at first. Even if you are well aware of the situation and where Alia’s position in all of this, it still doesn’t stop the sharp pain you feel in your chest as he mentions her name, or to express his request.

Taehyung steps closer when you remain quiet. His voice comes as a desperate whisper when he pleads with you, “Please? Can you do this for me?”

You grit your teeth. “Fine, I won’t,” you finally say to him. But you refuse to give in that easily.

Taking a step closer to him, you point at him and demand him, “But you need to tell her.”

He clenches his jaw as he listens to your demands, but you ignore it and continue to talk. “She needs to know—” your voice nearly wavers, because you know what would happen once everything is revealed.

Telling your stepsister that you had slept with her boyfriend would not only be hard, but it would be ugly.

But it would be better than keeping it a secret for much longer. Because secrets don’t always remain hidden, no matter how hard you try to keep them in the shadows. And things would even get messier once the baby comes while she is still being kept in the dark.

It’s better to bite the bullet as soon as possible, rather than waiting and living your life in uncertainty until the day comes.

“If you don’t, and we keep this a secret much longer, things might get messier if she somehow finds out on her own. The last thing I’d ever want is to get into any drama. Not with her,” you try to convince Taehyung, despite him looking like he would rather bolt and have nothing to do with any of this.

After all the drama that happened last year, the last thing you need is to get involved in another.

“I’ll tell her myself if necessary.” There is a bite in your voice when you are telling him all of this. To his credit, Taehyung—despite looking shell-shocked and cornered—seems to respect and understand your request.

He lowers his head and nods. “Give me time. I’ll—”

You are surprised to see him looking defeated. It makes you wonder if there is something more about their relationship that you need to know before going further.

As Taehyung raises his head again, he seems more resolved. He looks straight into your eyes as he promises, “I’ll tell her myself once I get the chance to. I promise. But we’re going to have that talk first, and soon.”

“It’s a promise.” You bite back the ache that suddenly pierces through your heart, seeing how he is so adamant about protecting his relationship with your stepsister. Trying not to look too deep into it and get yourself hurt further, you avoid looking into his gaze and start walking away from him.

“Goodnight then—” you whisper to him as you turn away from him, biting back the sound of your defeat when you call his name, “Tae.”

The moment you are within the safety of your bedroom, your knees buckle. Thankfully, you still manage to close the door and lock it behind you, once again shutting yourself from everyone to give you some moment of peace.

Although it doesn’t stop him from entering your mind in the silence that follows.

As you lie down in your bed, curled up in a fetal position with your arms wrapped around yourself, your mind wanders back to the conversation you just had with Taehyung in the hallway.

You can’t help it. His words keep coming back to you, and you keep finding yourself dissecting everything he said. You close your eyes, and keep telling yourself to stop. The situation that you are dealing with right now already seems absurd enough for you to waste your energy trying to understand him.

You begin to wonder if things would have been better if you hadn’t come across each other again. Things would probably turn out differently. You may have to keep the baby’s existence a secret from him, and the truth about the father a secret from your family.

You may have to deal with everything yourself.

The possibility seems petrifying, but it still sounds a lot better than having to go against your stepsister. Better than causing your frail relationship to become even worse. This time, you know that this would be big enough to ruin any chance for you and your stepsister to have any kind of relationship at all.

He was right. It’s funny how life works. If only it doesn’t have to be this hard to laugh it off.

Stop it.

Keeping your eyes closed, you let out a deep sigh and force yourself to think about something else. Anything. As long as you are not thinking about him. His face, his voice, the scent of his cologne, everything that belongs to him.

Your head starts swimming. No, everything about him now belongs to someone else.

Once again, you force yourself to start thinking of less stressful things. Like Skye’s text message from this afternoon suggesting that you could run away with her to a secluded place somewhere in Europe so that the two of you could raise the baby together. Or the little stories that Honey shared about the cute new gardener now working at her apartment complex—the complex specifically built for elders like herself—that she wanted to introduce to you the next time you come by to visit.

You regret forgetting to pick up the smoothie that your mother made for you while you were throwing up in the bathroom, all due to Taehyung’s distraction. You wonder if having the smoothie would be able to help you feel better. Picturing the drink being left attended in the kitchen, you can picture your grandmother—the sweet little mischievous angel that she is—sneaking in a few drops of rum into the smoothie when your mother isn’t looking.

This thought makes you smile. It replaces every ugly thoughts that keep circling inside your mind and calms you down.

Your heartbeat is no longer beating like crazy. The more you fill your head with wonderful thoughts, the sooner the uneasy feeling in your stomach begins to wane.

And soon enough, you start drifting away to a restless sleep.

But just like how he invaded your home with his sudden appearance, Taehyung invades your sleep once your mind is left unguarded.

Speaking to him, albeit briefly, brings you back to that night. The moment you close your eyes, you start seeing everything from back then that you couldn’t remember in your waking hours. Even the smallest details that your conscious mind has forgotten. Everything comes crashing down on you as you toss and turn in your bed, unable to give in completely to a peaceful slumber as memories continue to flood your dreams.

Six weeks ago…

You opened your eyes and squinted.

The overhead lamp above your head was bright, and it was hurting your eyes. You could barely see a thing through your bleary eyes, until your gaze drifted further, looking into the dimly lit bedroom far across the foyer.

The room looked more spacious than yours, albeit a bit messy. The massive bed looked comfortable, and there were two lounge seats set up near the windows that looked more luxurious than the ones you had in your room.

“Your bedroom seems a lot more cozy than mine.”

The words came out of your lips with a moan. The sound seemed foreign. Barely recognisable through your hazy mind. But there was a familiar sensation slowly rising in your body that hadn’t at all come from the alcoholic drinks you were having tonight.

“Hmmm…You think so?”

A deep, sultry voice spoke as a pair of hot lips made their way down the side of your neck, tracing your skin with delicate kisses that made it even harder for you to think straight.

Shivers ran down your body. Heat rolled through your chest. And it almost seemed to you that your skin was becoming even more sensitive to the touch when even the most subtle caress of his fingers was able to light up your senses.

Right after the voice spoke to you, he suddenly switched and started kissing his way up. You blinked, and his face came into view just as he looked down at you. The beautiful face that captivated you when you first met him at the bar was presented right before your eyes.

So close. So tempting. And his eyes were so intense that you nearly lost your breath. He smiled and leaned down, capturing your lips with a kiss.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he murmured against your lips, drawing another moan out of you which snapped you from your daze.

You sighed as you gave in to the chaste kiss he was giving you. “It’s kind of hard to look around and see anything when you have me pinned to the door.”

He let out a soft chuckle and once again pressed his lips on yours. As if he was both pleased and amused that he got to put you in this position. When he pulled back, the look in his eyes softened.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It’s all your fault for teasing me all the way here while I couldn’t allow myself to touch you with so many eyes paying attention,” he said without any hint of regret in his voice.

“Well, forgive me because I wasn’t aware,” you taunted him back, knowing fully well what you had done to tease him until he was on the verge of breaking apart even before you reached his hotel suite.

As much as you wanted to hold back, you were quite sure that you hadn’t gotten things wrong. You couldn’t have possibly mistaken the chemistry that kept sparking between you. And the way he kept openly staring at your body was enough to make his intention clear, as his eyes seemed more honest than the words he gave you.

But back at the bar, you had let him be the first one to make the move.

With his sturdy hands, he was the one who pulled your seat closer. By placing his arm on your backrest, it may have seemed as if he was marking his territory for anyone else at the hotel bar to see. Normally, something like this would’ve put you off. But there was something in the way he did it that made you feel otherwise, allowing you to give in and lean more into his warmth instead of pushing him away.

That was when you reciprocated his actions with your own. The light and subtle touches of your fingers on his arm drew soft shudders through his body. The accidental brushes that happened when you moved against his body pushed him into wrapping his arm around you, keeping you close before he finally pulled you out of the bar.

When you leaned close enough to whisper softly against his ear, you could feel goosebumps rising on his skin, his heartbeat escalating under your palm, and he could barely hold himself back from devouring your lips right there at the hotel lobby. Right where everyone could see you falling into pieces under your sinful desire.

By the time you were alone with him in the elevator, the tension between you just kept escalating until he finally snapped.

He nearly dragged you across the hallway leading to his bedroom suite in his rush to get you alone. The moment he pulled you in through the door, every bit of his composure simply left him. He barely gave you a chance to catch a single glance of the suite, as he immediately pushed your body against the door and kept you there.

Until this moment.

His eyes grew dark after listening to your answer. His breath is still ragged after the hot kiss that he gave you once he got you pinned between his hard body and the locked door behind you.

With his broad chest locking you in place, his hips pressing against your lower body, he left you with nowhere else to go. But this didn’t seem to be enough for him. Looking into his eyes, you could tell that he needed to see you become even more vulnerable. Almost as if he wanted to punish you for putting him on the edge.

And he did exactly that as he slipped one hand around your neck and pulled your hair, tilting your head back so that he could continue exploring the column of your throat with his sinful lips. Instead of resisting it, you simply gave in. Arching your back to him further as he trailed kisses on your skin, your hands clutching on his jacket to hold on.

He used his other hand to explore the rest of your body. Starting from your waist, he continued to move further down to your hips. Tracing every curve, every dent along your body with his firm fingers pressing through your thin dress.

Just as he was about to reach the hem of your dress, he suddenly stopped and pulled back.

“Tell me again. Are you sure this is what you want?” His voice was quiet when he asked you this. It sounded as though he was caught between convincing himself that this was happening while giving you an out for one last time before getting too deep.

But you had gone deep.

And you knew then that the moment you let everything happen, there was no going back from it. Everything about this was new to you; hooking up with a complete stranger while you were in the middle of nowhere, and knowing that once the night was over, both of you were going to move on with your lives.

It felt thrilling to think about it, and the liquid courage should help you in letting go of your inhibitions. Yet you couldn’t deny the fact that you are feeling slightly nervous about jumping fully into this.

When you failed to answer him, Tae leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss right below your ear and whispered, “Well? Talk to me. Because there is no going back from this once we begin, and I won’t let you go until you tell me what you want.”

The way his breath tickled your ear and caressed your skin broke you out of the walls you put up. Every flicker of doubt you felt immediately melted. You brushed against him, allowing him to feel every bit of heat coursing through your body before you answered with a whisper, “Yes. I’ve never been so sure in my whole life.”

You could feel the way his breath was caught as you pressed your palm on his chest. Pressing against him, you raised yourself up and nipped his chin with your teeth.

“This is what I want.”

You weren’t completely sure if you ever got to finish your sentence when all of a sudden, his lips came crashing into yours, pressing firmly as he kissed you, barely concealing his desire for more.

The kiss unleashed your own desire. You opened your mouth for him in return, allowing him to devour you, to have a taste of your demands as he thoroughly kissed you until you were left breathless in his arms.

His hand began to move again just then. Tracing down your hips, he pressed the tips of his fingers harder into your flesh. He made it seem as if your dress had melted into your skin with the heat of his touch that you felt completely exposed to him. And he didn’t stop until he finally found the exposed skin of your thigh.

Your body quivered upon contact, and you could tell that he felt it too. He began stroking your skin, moving at a slow, agonising pace just to put you on the edge.

And he easily succeeded. Already, you could barely breathe, even when he was still far from touching any part of your body that needed him the most.

Overcame with need, your body started moving on instinct. As if his touches were controlling you as you lifted your thigh for him. His grip on your thigh tightened, helping you to keep your leg up and open yourself to him while his kiss became sloppy yet gentle as he released his hold on your hair.

He moved his other hand down, brushing against your covered breast with a brief contact and continued trailing down. You felt him pressing at your hips, before pulling the hem of your dress upward until your lower region was completely exposed. His hand continued its travel as it climbed up your inner thigh. So you opened your legs to give him better access. A move which he appreciated with a deep hum, before you felt his thumb brushing up just an inch away from your throbbing core.

“Should we move this someplace else? Somewhere that would be more comfortable for us?” he asked you with his lips hovering close to yours.

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Too lost in the sensation that you were made to feel, you felt as if you were drunk and high, not from the alcohol that was no longer running wildly through your veins, but from his entire presence alone.

All thoughts faded further as his thumb grazed across the front of your panties, finding your folds through the fabric before he pressed down, enough to give pressure on your covered clit. Sparks flew through your half-lidded eyes as pleasure came rushing through you in waves. You couldn’t stop the moan slipping out of your lips, nor the way your hips rocked into his touch to feel more.

“So responsive,” he murmured against your neck before he planted a light kiss on your skin. “I would have loved to watch and enjoy every reaction that you would give me, every sound you make, while I have you lie down on my bed and fuck you senseless.”

Your breath hitched and caught in your chest. Not only because of his words, but also from the way his thumb continued to rub against your covered clit. It felt sinful, yet so delectable the way he kept drawing more and more sparks and shuddering pleasure through your body.

After being deprived of such attention for quite some time, your body became more sensitive to every friction, every treatment he was giving you, and you simply wanted more.

“Then take me there. Take me to your bed.”

As if you had flicked a switch in his brain, his expression changed. His gaze darkened as he captured your lips with unrestrained need, yet he was careful when he picked you up, pressing you against his chest when he turned and moved to take you away from the door.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him for balance, while your lips remained locked in a deep kiss. You could feel his long stride as he began carrying you across the room. His kiss and his firm hold on your bottom cheeks were enough to draw your attention away from his clumsy footsteps, but not enough to deny you from sensing the changes happening around you.

The scent of his cologne grew thicker as he went deeper into the room, and you were getting more and more lost in him. Drowned in his heat, his kiss, and the traces that he had left behind all over his bedroom, you felt him everywhere all at once that you felt like you were being put under a spell.

All so suddenly, you were pulled out of it when he broke away from the kiss. He laid you gently over the cold white sheets of his partly-made bed. Instead of joining you right away, he chose to pull back. His eyes seemed to glint in the dimly lit room as he took this moment to take you in.

“Beautiful,” he murmured softly, drawing heat back to your face.

He kept his eyes on you as he shrugged off his jacket and began peeling his shirt from his chest. Desire pulsed through your body as you watched every move he was making without ever drawing his attention away from you.

The more you watched him, the stronger the pull that you felt towards him. Once the need to touch him took over, you reached up and tugged on his pants, hoping that you could quickly shred them off of his body.

You barely grazed against his covered hard-on when he stopped you by catching your wrists. Like a disappointed teacher, he made a disapproval sound with his tongue.

“Patience, Red,” he teasingly said to you as he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it off of you with one swift move. You fell back to the bed with a gasp, shocked to see how easy it was for him to take over until you were left with nothing more but your lacy underthings.

The intensity you felt from his gaze made you want to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. But being half inebriated was making you slow in thoughts and movement that you couldn’t do anything but lay still. At the same time, you enjoyed the way he was looking at you, loving how he was losing himself to you the same way you did to him.

But it was the words that he said next that further brought out your wanton needs.

“Be a good girl and stay still. I want you to stay just like this,” he said with a murmur while his eyes ran down your body, “I want you to lie on your back while you are screaming out my name.”

If only you hadn’t been so lost for words, perhaps you would have challenged him in return. Instead, by the time every piece of his clothing was gone, you felt like you had melted further into the sheets. The raw passion you saw in his gaze and the way he was tracing his fingertips on your skin had locked you completely in place, leaving you with no other option but to surrender as he took control.

He bent down, his lips came down to your neck. Planting his kisses on your skin, he kept your attention away from his hands as he snapped off your bra and went down to pull your panties down your hips. As he dragged your panties down your bare legs, he continued his kisses further down, not stopping until he reached your heaving chest.

You couldn’t even remember what happened to that flimsy piece of fabric that he took from you. Everything else faded as his tongue grazed across your chest, drawing a gasp out of your lips. His firm hands returned to your hips right then, holding you down while he captured your taut nipple between his teeth.

The feeling that coursed through you was heavenly. A shooting pain came with a flare as he bit down, yet it was quickly replaced with an overwhelming feeling of pleasure when he lapped the pain away with his sinful tongue.

“Tae—”

His body quivered against yours at the sound of your voice. He pulled away with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched you arching your chest as if you were chasing him.

He ran his gaze down your body. Perusing you while silently admiring what he was seeing while he licked his lips. As if he was picturing the way you would taste.

“Tell me how badly you want this, Red,” he taunted you with his hand reaching out to the nightstand. You vaguely saw him grabbing a condom while you were struggling to breathe. Your eyes fell on his exposed, throbbing cock, and words simply left you.

Seeing its impressive size and girth, your entire body erupted with a pulse. It started from deep inside your core, right where you wanted to feel him the most. Astonished, you failed to remember that he was still waiting for your answer with his eyes locked on your face.

And he made you struggle further to find words when he reached down, wrapping his long fingers around his cock and started giving himself slow, lazy strokes. You could see the bead of his pre-cum glistening under the dim lighting. It took everything in you to stop yourself from leaning forward and lapping him dry. To have a taste, before you let him devour every drop of your essence.

“Red? Talk to me,” he spoke to you again with a curious tone in his voice.

He knew that he wasn’t getting any attention, as your eyes were locked only at one place that was not his face, and he seemed to be curious to know what was making you so lost in thoughts.

Instead of answering him, you continued to watch, completely transfixed by his actions, as he slowly spread his pre-cum along the length of his cock. You licked your lips, almost as if you could taste him. A barely concealed whimper slipped out of your lips when you watched him slowly roll the condom to cover himself from the tip of his cock and down to the base.

Seeing him covered with protection seemed to snap you back to the present. Even if your pulsing need still refused to tame down.

Resting back against the pillows, you dragged your eyes away from his impressive cock to his beautiful face.

“I want you here. Inside me,” you finally responded to his question. Placing your palms on the underside of your thighs, you parted your legs open, making him see the mess that had been building up right between your legs while you were enjoying the show he was giving you.

Now it was your turn to give him a show.

Reaching between your legs, you moved your fingers to find your folds. You bit back a gasp once the tips of your fingers were met with your wet arousal. It felt slick as you moved your fingers around, parting your nether lips so he could see your swollen clit, before you moved your fingers in circles, pressing at yourself the exact same way you wished he would.

“Please, fuck me, Tae. Fuck me good.”

His pupils dilated at the sound of your voice, at the pleading words you were giving him. You loved the way he was reacting to you just as much as he did with you, yet you decided to push his buttons further by adding, “And then I want to hear you scream my name while you cum inside me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “What a little brat,” he said, chuckling. “So you like to play games, hmmm?”

You bit your bottom lip, holding back a moan that was threatening to come out when your touch inadvertently pushed against the source of your heat. “Oh, I do. Games are always fun.”

While he continued stroking his cock at a lazy pace, he used the other hand to grab your neck. His palm fit perfectly as he wrapped it around the column of your throat, putting pressure that was not enough to choke you, yet enough to show you who was in control.

“Then let’s play,” he groaned while he pressed you back down on the bed. “But this time, I make the rules.”

You felt the electrifying pleasure surging through your body as he brushed your hand away and lined himself against your entrance, shutting down the circuits inside your brain for a moment and stopping you from wiggling too much beneath him just to feel more friction.

A sharp moan was drawn from your lips as Tae slammed his full length deep inside you. The sensation that you felt from being filled by his width was so feral and explosive that you were sure you immediately experienced your orgasm right then and there.

Your body must have been shaking, which was a response that you failed to notice as you had your senses filled with the steady pulse of pleasure pressing across the girth of his cock. He must have noticed it when he came to a halt, giving you a chance to process everything and adjust to his presence inside you.

Nothing made sense to you beyond the pulsing pleasure that you felt from your hot pussy. Your senses were filled with the sound of your racing heartbeat, the soothing touch of his fingers on your skin, and the whispers of his voice calling you back to him.

He only managed to bring you back to the present by pressing gentle kisses on your lips, nose, and then on the rest of your face, stopping only after he kissed your lips again to draw your attention back to him.

Your legs were quivering when you opened your eyes to see him, yet you could already tell from the way the pulses that came right where you were joined started to settle, that your body had adjusted perfectly to his size.

But it didn’t mean that you would simply take it without sharing your thoughts.

“You’re—big,” you complained with a soft moan when you felt him growing harder inside you. It didn’t stop you from rocking your hips, trying to feel more friction, while he merely chuckled at your words.

“And it’s perfect for your tight pussy.”

His words drew a gasp from you. But he didn’t pay much attention to it, as he slowly began to move. He started with a slow pace, which was torturous and agonising, forcing you to feel the delectable way his girth was brushing against your pulsing walls.

Back and forth he went, going so deep you could almost feel him pressing up your stomach before pulling out until only the tip was buried inside you. He kept moving at the same pace, until you began to feel more desperate. Even your body was shaking with the need to feel more.

“More—!” you whispered with a strangled moan, “go faster.”

Hearing this, instead of doing what you were begging him to, Tae denied your plea by doing the opposite. With a wicked grin on his face, the fucker slowed down, bringing the pleasure that had been rising back down a notch.

You opened your mouth to protest against it, and he moved his hands down your hips, stopping at your thighs where he gave you a tight grip.

“You want more?” he asked you, his voice almost seemed to grow deeper, and you could feel a tinge of danger when he spoke. The same danger you saw coming through his gaze as he slowly brought your legs up.

You expected him to stop once he got your legs up his shoulders. But he just kept going. And going. Until you were nearly folded with your legs almost pressed to your chest.

“Tae—!”

It made you feel vulnerable, with nothing but your hands to use to hold on while he had full control of your body. He was still buried inside you, and this position allowed you to feel him more. As though you had grown tighter around him and he was growing bigger. His entire length and width made you feel full, as his cock was pressing tightly against your hot walls.

“You wanted more,” he murmured as he began moving, rocking his hips slowly back and forth, going in and out of you, drawing more and more of that shuddering pleasure out of your body as he continued fucking you gently. “I’m giving you more.”

He began increasing his pace. Going faster the more he heard you moaning in pleasure. “Lift your arms, Red. Bring them up and hold the pillows.”

It took a moment for his words to register in your head. Your hands had been clutching tightly on his forearms and it was a struggle to let go. And he waited, tormenting you by keeping his pace much too slow to your liking until you followed his command.

Your hands trembled as you unlatched them from his skin. You could barely feel your fingers as you dragged your hands up, as every part of your body grew more sensitive the more you opened your entire self to him. Keeping your eyes on him, you got lost in his intense gaze.

It was then when you finally came in contact with the soft pillows above your head, and your fingers easily sank into them, latching onto them as you did when you were holding onto his arms.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmured gently, and you were pleasantly surprised to realise how much you loved hearing his praise. Warmth bloomed in your chest, and it easily made its way down right to your core. “Now hold on tightly and don’t let go.”

And you did just that. Holding on tightly the way he wanted you to.

Only once he gained complete control of your body, once you fully submitted to him, he finally fulfilled your wish. He held firmly on your thighs to keep them folded and open for him, and he began ramming his cock deep inside you.

He was doing it faster. Harder. Sending you high in pleasure while all you could do was take his constant pounding. The only leverage you had to hold on was the tight hold you had on the pillows and the weight of his body that was pressing you down each time he pushed deeply inside you.

The anomalous sounds coming out of both of your lips kept bouncing off the walls. Followed by the sound of flesh clashing against flesh, the slick sounds that came from right where you were joined, and the creaking sound of the bed beneath you.

He kept going, relentless in his rough thrusts and his need to push you over the edge, until you could feel the rise of your orgasm coming in waves. The wanton pleasure that was hot and intense came rising inside you, growing rapidly with his deep thrusts until you finally succumbed to it, coming into your climax with a scream.

“Tae, I’m coming,” you cried out to him as you fell over the edge, though you weren’t completely sure if the words coming out of your lips were as coherent as you thought they would have been.

The sound of your pounding heartbeat seemed to drown everything away. Except that you could still hear the sound of his breathless grunts as they grew clearer, and the strangled moan that came out of him when he shouted, “That’s it, Red. Fuck, I’m coming!”

With a sharp intake of breath, he came to his climax. You felt every pulse of his release as he came inside you, and the tremble in his chest that surged through him with his deep groan as he relished the pleasure. Even after his release, he kept moving, rocking slowly and steadily until the spasms of your orgasm slowly began to wane down.

He remained buried inside you when he gently released you from his hold. You could barely feel his lips pressing on your quivering thighs before he lowered them back on the mattress, yet his gentle fingers remained hot on your skin when he brushed up against you.

He reached up and gently pried your fingers away from the pillows before slipping his fingers between yours. The way your fingers were entwined together felt so intimate. So unlike anything that you had ever thought about what a one-night stand would entail.

Your body felt hot, and your muscles were lax, but there was a series of small spasms still going strong from deep inside you, coaxed by his incessant rocking. You should have been pushing him off of you, instead of embracing his weight as he lowered himself, covering your body with his own.

“Tae—” you whimpered against his lips as he kissed you. Holding your hands in his, he continued to rock his hips.

How he managed to remain so hard and stiff even after his climax was beyond you. He still felt thick as he moved. His cock brushed against your pulsing walls as he went in and out, awakening all sparks of pleasure that were supposed to have dwindled.

And with how sensitive your body was, it rose and peaked so quickly and you had no power to stop it.

“Too…much…” you cried between the strangled moans coming out of your lips, right before he swallowed them with another kiss.

“One more,” he groaned as he picked up his pace. “Just do it one more time for me, Red.”

You were so sensitive it was beginning to hurt, but the pleasure was also maddening that you didn’t want to stop. This time, he wasn’t holding you down so strongly, allowing you to move beneath him. So you rocked back against him, pushing up each time he was thrusting into you. It only took a couple of more strokes before the coil in your core snapped, and you were sent to another climax.

And he joined you in your release, falling into a smaller climax of his own as you clenched tightly around him.

He came with a deep groan. His whole body quaked against you before he finally fell on top of you. While you were trying to control your breath, his lips came brushing your neck, kissing you gently to help soothe down the shudders running through your body.

“Fuck…so perfect,” he sighed between his kisses, his voice came in and out through your senses, and the sparks you felt rushing through your body started waning as you were slowly drifting away into the night, with his words echoing in your dreams,

“You are perfect.”

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading so far. Any likes, kudos, comments, and feedbacks will be appreciated. The story continues in part 2.

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