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vminity21 · 1 year

Text

Goodbye to Hello | jjk

Pairing: badboy!jeongguk x female!reader

Word Count: 25,102

Genre: fluff, lots of smut oops, mega-angst, strangers to lovers!au, fuckboy/fuckgirl!au

Warning(s): profanity, infidelity, mega-angst (im sorry), mention of alcohol, smoking, smut, unprotected sex, oral (m + f receiving), slight m!dom, nipple play, hand job, dirty talk, ice play, ass grabbing, mention of a sex toy, squirting, hobi is a bad boy in this too, multiple orgasms, smutty kissing, reader may or may not have accidentally become a fuckgirl in this story sorry not sorry; Rated: 18+

Credit to: @yoonoclock for making such an incredible cover for this story that has taken me two long years to write. It’s finally where I need it to be and thank you so much Monnie for using your talent to create a banner that truly embodies the story.

Taglist: thank you so much for your patience with me! @ggukkieland @thisartemisnevermisses @moonchild1 @familiarlikemymirror3 @gukniverse

Summary: After a devastating break up, you immediately move in with your sister, leaving behind the country life to relearn the ups and downs of the city. Adopting a cat and gaining a new job at a retail store part time, life seems to gradually bring happiness and healing, but you did not expect for it to become even more interesting when you stumble upon the enticing yet alluring tattoo artist, Jeon Jeongguk. Will this be an adventure of a lifetime? Or will hello always lead to goodbye?

Golden specks twinkle sporadically like fairy dust creating a shimmering tint to the air that collects the attention of any individual trailing the pavement. Pollen. The groovy excitement of a stuffy nose and mildly itchy eyes sounds stellar compared to how you could be feeling. Sniffling roughly, you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily to relieve what little of the itch that you can and trotting up the steps to your realm of refuge, you can hardly stand the excitement of bundling into the arms of your boyfriend, Jung Hoseok, and relaying how lovely it is to wipe your nose every five minutes. Maybe even ask if you can borrow the sleeve of his sweatshirt as a tissue. Pause. Maybe not.

Entering the rental home, you hadn’t noticed how eerily quiet it seemed, not right away; especially when you are so used to hearing the raging shots of a video game mingled with the yelling profanity between Hoseok and his best friend Kim Namjoon who bicker over headsets about wins that neither of them were really close to. But, let the males believe, they indeed, almost triumphed. Settling your handbag onto the dining table, you tilt your head in confusion. Is Hobi sick today? Where is he?

The floors creak beneath your tennis shoes while you observe the kitchen. That’s funny. The dishes are cleaned and put away, and not one stray of lint is seen upon the countertop- Hoseok has always been clean as well as you, but he never went over the top unless he had company over, and by company you mean his mother. Thoughts drift to the possibility of him wanting to surprise you for whatever the case may be, and your heart flutters at the mere inkling while a smirk graces your lips. How thoughtful, you feel gushy at his consideration of you, and your steps follow the direction of your bedroom.

It is then that your life spirals in a cluster of emotions that you will never forget; sparks dancing in your vision while your chest tightens intensely in response to the sounds you hear echoing beyond the door. No. You want to scream, but your throat constricts, not producing any verbalization no matter how much your brain signals. This can’t be real. Please don’t let this be real. The moans persist. The mystery female is eagerly gasping his name over and over while your heart shudders at the pain severing every vein within your frame. A tear falls panging the floor- your body is so tense, you shiver through the anxiety, and you know deep down that confronting him will hurt even worse than if you were to take the high road and walk away.

Wiping the dampness from your eyes, you spin to compile your things as in your handbag that contains your wallet, car key, and cellphone, and you march outside, slamming the front door behind you to shed some of the anger boiling in your system; you could care less if he heard your grand exit or not for you blocked his number before you settled into your car. You may be able to run from him, but you cannot run from the excruciating pain erupting beneath your chest nor the cycle of questions that refuse to stop spinning because why? After three years together, why would he betray you like this?

The front door flings open. Hoseok runs onto the porch in pure panic, hair disheveled, only in boxers, mouth gaping open as his widened eyes search until they lock with yours. But it’s too late. You are already safe within your car. Even when you notice the slim figure of a woman in one of his t-shirts, you do not move your gaze. You let the stare down with your boyfriend linger enough to rest your case. The second he starts rushing down the porch steps in a way to catch up to you for whatever meaningless apologies- meaningless explanations that will pour from his mouth- is when you reverse onto the road.

Behind the steering wheel with no destination in mind, you come up with the only solution you find reasonable, and you make your way to the city with the intention of starting over, even if it means it destroys you.

A queue of ants scurry along the lining of the windowsill where the sun tinges the glass against your knuckles. Shrivel sounds of the granola bar wrapper fills the silence of the kitchen while you gulp the final bite of your snack. Sometimes when your hands feel cold, you leave it to the sun to indulge your skin with warmth before trekking to your room, but instead, the growling of your stomach and the distraction of observing the insects seems to help with the boredom. Dread happens to consume the depths of your chest at the subtle reminder of returning to work in the morning; Sundays always bring the feeling of woe because it is the end of relaxation before continuing the week of being overwhelmed. But you figure adulting is worth it in some ways, and as everyone else, you must work to provide and live.

The chirp of your cat, Kenai, alerts your attention, him pouncing onto the counter to rub his head along your free wrist. “If you’re hungry, just say so,” you coo sarcastically, knowing he is due for his dinner in a few minutes. He will be a year old soon, his yellow eyes squinting as he rubs his head against your palm before arching his back once you run your hand to the end of his tail. Your eyes flit back to the ants darting in search of whatever they need, and inwardly, you are uncertain how your sister, Monnie would feel about the bugs, but you always found them fascinating.

Jumping off the counter, Kenai excitingly follows suit, twirling against your legs as you saunter to the pantry to retrieve his food. You have officially lived with your sister for a year now, and adopting Kenai was one of the best decisions you have ever made besides moving to the city. It is as if you disappeared from the prior life that you once lived and you like it just that way. Kenai temporarily ditches you for his food, and you stroll off to the living room where the scenery of a huge, flat screen television shows your reflection on the empty screen.

Monnie happens to be a successful artist who fell in love with another known artist by the name of Min Yoongi. Together they have won the world with their talent, and you could not have asked for a better couple to be in your life. If there is a true definition of love, it is how Yoongi gazes at your sister- because she is the only woman in the world, he will do anything and everything for. Jokingly, you always tell the pair that you are just going to stick with your cat, but the sadness that etches within Monnie’s eyes reveals that she hopes you will find a good man of your own. She is aware of why you abruptly returned to the place you were birthed, and she is aware that you refuse to speak of it even if it is pent up to the brim of imploding.

When you met your ex, it was in a park of all places. Not high school, not college, not through a family member or a friend: a park. It was a romantic way to begin even though you will never admit it now, but it started so naturally. So simple. You were reading a book while he was creating one. The way you were poised apparently sparked an idea for a story he openly confessed later on in the courtship. He described the scenery around you and how enwrapped in the book you were as something meant to be written for others to discover. How he could imagine a story just from the vision you had no idea you were forming for him.

You fell for him fast. Hard. He was your first everything aside from kissing and as time went by, you agreed to move in with him. You never expected what was going to happen in the future. You never anticipated such excruciating pain from the betrayal, nor did you notice any signs leading up to it. He’s tried contacting you from other phone numbers, but after four months apart, he seemed to have given up. But, because the pain is still so raw, you can’t bear to face him. You will crumple like a piece of paper in his presence if you were to ever see him again. For now, you do all you can to just avoid the situation as much as possible. Besides, he has her now. Whoever she may be.

Alas, what does it matter? It is not like he is able to reach out to you anyways for he is blocked on every and any social media site you can think of, and thankfully your name was not on the lease nor was your name hooked to anything involving your ex, so it will be fine. Or so you tell yourself repeatedly until you lose track of the thought. But that uneasy feeling creeps back up and instead of reaching for the remote, you decide maybe a walk around the city will be better. Monnie isn’t due home until later and you are assuming Yoongi will be tagging along, so why not pass the time by exploring?

Loneliness seeps in the gallows of your heart while you rush through the app for a driver. There is not a specific destination you prefer over another, so you pick a store at random around fifteen minutes away. With the money your sister has, she doesn’t expect you to pay for anything, all she cares about is your happiness though you refuse to not work; for now, you have a part time retail job whilst figuring out a career path that will become your future in the long term.

One thing you will say, is you have not missed driving in the city, hence the reasoning of you summoning a chauffeur. Traffic isn’t your favorite as commonly pronounced by anybody, and with how overwhelming your brain can feel, you prefer to be able to drift into the zone out rather than pay attention. Gripping the strap of your bag, you eagerly watch the road while cars pass by letting the heat of the breeze sweep through your hair. When the signal of your phone alerts you that your driver is close by, you aim your focus in the direction of a slowing vehicle, stunned by the countenance of a sharp jawline and rainbow colors dyed into bleach blonde strands.

The beauty you are about to behold is way out of your comfort zone, nor have you felt this attracted to an individual since your heart was obliterated a year ago. “Hi-hi,” you stutter once you enter the passenger side, the driver nods once with a smirk in tow, his button up snug to his frame, an earring dangling from his right ear.

“I’m Jimin,” he introduces, “Location still the bookstore in the city?”

“Yes please,” you are shocked you sound audible, but you return a timid smile while shoving some loose hair behind your reddening ear. The clean scent of lemon breaches past your nostrils while you try to maintain your composure, “I’m y/n, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” soft music plays in the background, yet the only sense you tune into is the pounding in your temples. Pull yourself together, he is just a guy who drives a car, who will safely take you to the bookstore, no biggie, you will survive, there are more important things to- “So, as a fellow book lover, I must ask, what is your favorite story?”

Oof. Conversation to minimize the awkward way your shoulders tense at the mere thought of looking over at him, you rummage through the possible answers, struggling to gather your words in a timely manner. “Very hard question,” you gulp, “It’s like asking to choose your favorite song or movie. Too many stories to explore,”

“And never a time you will run out of adventure,”

Eyebrows shoot up in response, “Right,” you smile, “Sounds like you love a good adventure,”

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” a soft chuckle escapes past his plump lips while he keeps his gaze ahead on the traffic. “Have you resided here long?” Shifting nervously in your seat, you watch the buildings of the city closely in a way to avoid Jimin’s gaze without obviously melting.

“Only a year, made a split decision to move in with my sister. You?”

Jimin flits his stare for only a moment, “For a long while. My best friend and I are opening a bar not far from the bookstore, you should come sometime. Invite anyone and everyone you want.”

“I love me a good drink,” bravery enters your frame while you briefly scan the smooth skin of Jimin’s face. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Taehyung has a lot of success in his business, and this will be his fourth opening so celebration is a must. He has a lot of sponsors and connections, the main being Kim Seokjin,”

Gasping, you immediately turn to him, “You mean the actor Kim Seokjin? You’re kidding!”

Laughing, Jimin’s smile stretches to show pearly white teeth, “I will allow you to punch me if I am,”

Deep down you try to suppress the memory of your ex-boyfriend who had written a script in preparation to be read for a potential movie, one that would, in hopes, hire Kim Seokjin as the lead. Hoseok is talented in the writing department and had dreams of becoming a successful author, but you gladly dismiss the memory when Jimin pulls to park for you to exit.

“Here,” swiftly he pulls out a business card handing it to you with a friendly grin, “The opening is in a few weeks, will I see you there?”

“One hundred percent,” clutching the card in your hand, you wave before shutting the door, turning to face the bookstore to hide the fact you would prefer to stare at Jimin whose face will haunt you for the time being. For fucks sake, I need to get laid. As you desperately insert the card into your wallet, you pause. Nay! Male specimens suck, they all suck, my mother said the purpose of a male is to produce a child that I clearly am not ready to birth from the womb that is my pretty pink uterus. That bleeds. Monthly. Because I am not housing a fetus I- Ew. Maybe you’d rather be an aunt. Or have an ovariohysterectomy. Maybe your uterus would like to be taken out of the equation in general.

And now I need a coffee…. Shit.

Since when have you been this intimidated by a good-looking man? And when have you found any of your sporadic conscious entertaining? Therefore, you passionately believe in keeping your mouth shut when you’re on a tangent because humiliation is not in your vocabulary. Or… Is it? Also, you hate admitting how long it has been since you have even been kissed, much less caressed lovingly until you fell asleep. Is moving on from heartbreak too much to ask for? The heat of Hoseok’s kisses trailing your neck were enough to make you come undone, but his betrayal outweighs the good times- good times that evidently weren’t enough for him. Huffing in congruent with the squeezing of your shutting eyes, you step along the semi-crowded sidewalk where people mind their business enough to leave you alone. Your hand must have pressed against your stomach for a bit because you can still feel the presence of the touch before you subconsciously removed your palm.

The bookstore is a popular joint in your opinion. It stands four stories high with the fourth floor having a garden center where people can read and smell the perfumes of flowers in peace. Unfortunately, you are not in the best mood for getting lost in the lines of a tale considering you were too busy thinking about your erm, lady possessions, so you tread what you hope will be enough distraction until you feel satisfied enough to go home. It’s funny the curveballs life will throw at you especially when twists and turns decide to expose themselves in the unexpected ways everyone wishes will not happen unless it gleams nothing but happiness. Sadly, for some, the hits of negativity must spark lessons before one reaches the promise land, so when you make a turn into the alley way leading to a popular coffee shop, you do not anticipate the way your life is going to change. Nor do you fathom the string of events that are about to follow when you stumble upon a leathered frame, sucking in a puff of a cigarette while he flicks at his eyebrow shimmering with a piercing, leaning against the wall where he swallows roughly. Undercut freshly done, his nostrils release the smoke in what seems to be slow motion while you halt in place.

Holy shit.

Tattoos ornament the entirety of his knuckles and wrist alluding to the beginning of a sleeve that’s covered by the thick material of his jacket. For all you know, he may not be one to approach, yet the tug of your heart is so strong, you try with all your might to make the executive decision to return to the bookstore, but alas, it is too late. Brown irises glance to your frozen figure right when he takes another drag of the cigarette, lifting an eyebrow in evident interest while your jaw drops unintentionally. “I’m-I’m sorry,” you bow in tiny, “I didn’t see you there.” Cringing, you know damn well that you saw him, and he sees right through your little white lie.

“You’re fine,” he replies, studying your expression, tossing the cigarette to the ground to muffle it, “Not the best place for me to smoke, but it’s the least populated area,”

At a loss for words, you nod in response, the guy barely pushing off the wall to stand straighter, the smell of the cigarette lingering. “Well, I guess I’ll be going.” You say under your breath, walking with a mission toward the coffee shop to catch your breath. How in the world can somebody be that attractive? First Jimin, now this guy? Why hadn’t you moved to the city earlier? Uterus, it is not time to ovulate! It is not the time! The ding of the bell alerts your arrival to the staff, and you contemplate your order deciding to try a new flavor of coffee. Surprisingly, it is not nearly as busy as it typically is, so once you retrieve your order and pay, you search for a secluded table to descend into for some form of solitude. And, to recover from the interaction with the guy from the alley. You have never smoked a day in your life, but he made it seem so tempting, which in your case is nowhere near normal, so you shake the strange attraction from your mind as best as you can.

Sipping the hot liquid frequently, your sister has always teased that you delight in drinking coffee in the evenings, but it is your comfort go to especially when you need something to do, or to feel relaxed. The bell of the door echoes prompting the immediate noticing of whoever the customer is that entered. Swallowing abruptly, your heart leaps at the sight of the guy you literally saw fifteen minutes ago in the alley. A creeping blush spreads along your chest soon touching your cheeks to the point you wish you could hide. In a way, you attempt, sinking a smidge in your seat wondering if that will prevent him from noticing your presence.

Nice try.

Between the minimal number of customers and the efficiency of the employees, a tattooed hand linked to a coffee cup slides into the seat across from you, tilting his head curiously when you toss your sight to bask in the glory of his profound attraction. You are in so much trouble. “Hi, again,” you murmur, crossing your arms over your chest to hide the quivering of your cold fingers, and to tame the flipping of your ovaries. “Did I scare you enough to make you confront me?”

Smirking a breathy laugh, he takes a swig of his coffee, “I’m not scared of anything.”

“If not fear, what brings you to my table?”

Wetting his bottom lip, you are proud of your feigned courage, but you genuinely are shocked by his sudden presence. Did you leave an inadvertent impression? Quirking an eyebrow, a small smile remains on his lips, “A confession.”

“If it’s sweet talk, I’ll pass.”

Leaning forward to perch his elbows on the table, he folds his hands showing the tattoos you inwardly reveled in earlier, his head poises to the side while he presses his knuckles to his chin casually. “Bold of you to assume I was here to compliment you.”

“Ouch.” You deadpan. “But then again, my mother’s compliments are all that matter to me. Anything you say is irrelevant.”

“Oh,” gradually laying his intertwined fingers onto the table, he challenges with a stare that can make any human being melt into the wooden floor. Fuck. “Then I guess telling you that your shirt is inside out isn’t going to change anything.”

Gasping, your palms fly to your chest where you instantaneously look to see the lines of your t-shirt that clearly expose the fact that you indeed left the house with your shirt on wrong. It is not as embarrassing as one may think, but you were unaware of the food stain dazzling along the side of your boob. Which in this case, makes you blush harder knowing that his eyes may be lingering in an area where no man is welcome currently. But why do you lowkey indulge in the idea of him taking a moment to sweep you up and down? Get a fucking grip, y/n.

“Well,” you sporadically move to position yourself in the seat where the point out will no longer be as obvious, “I appreciate how observant you are, but at least it’s not the worst thing to discover. In public.”

Chuckling under his breath, he shrugs, “I agree. Just figured I’d inform you, otherwise, my intentions are pure.”

Scoffing, you cross your arms again, remaining comfortable in your chair, “That’s not suspicious at all.”

“If I wanted anything, I would have asked already.” He murmurs, “And I always get what I want.”

“Fearless and greedy,” you are vastly grateful that the uterus doesn’t make noises when it’s craving to house an infant, especially with a man as ballsy and gorgeous as the one before you. And why the hell are you even thinking of children at a time like this? Any other male specimen would have made this conversation creepy, but this guy is so alluring that it doesn’t seem to bother you in the least. “What’s your name, Cigs?”

He chokes mid-sip, “That’s a new one.”

“What’s the norm?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Not if it’s sexual.”

“Oooo, then I’ll never tell.”

“Pure, my ass.”

“I never said I was pure, milady, I said my intentions with you were pure.”

Eyeing him questionably, you stifle a jeer, “Not sure if that’s an insult, but I’ll take it.”

Smiling enough to where a glimpse of his teeth is seen, he reaches a hand forward, “I’m Jeongguk.”

“I’m y/n.” Kindly, you take his hand returning the greeting with a grin.

“And I find you extremely striking. I mean that with all sincerity.” Gently, he presses a warm kiss to the back of your knuckles before releasing your clammy hand. “Now go fix your shirt before my OCD destroys me.”

Groaning, your mind wants to focus on the sensation from his lips on your skin, but instead, in mild humiliation, you shake your head kiddingly while you mosey to the restroom. Remembering to bring your purse, you hadn’t realized you left your phone behind on the table next to your drink. Returning, you’re shocked to see that he’s left; your phone and coffee appear untouched, yet you feel the sting of disappointment for you enjoyed the bickering even though some may find it strange. It has been a while since you have been in proximity with a man of such nature, especially one whose features leave an imprint on every crevice of your brain.

The ride home holds nothing but thoughts of the lad who mysteriously approached you at your favorite coffee spot, mostly questions of wonderment of who he is. Jeongguk, sure, but what is his story? Shoving the thought past your mind, you enter your room once you arrive home and feed your cat, slipping into your pajamas and collapsing onto your bed releasing a long sigh. Slamming your palms to your face, the keen chirp of Kenai sounds as he pounces onto the bed, rubbing his head against your cheek until you split your fingers to peer at your cat lovingly. “You have already eaten, you brute. Let me simmer in sadness please.”

Eventually you give in, petting him before you find your eyelids heavily craving slumber. It is the next day when you awaken to sunshine pouring through the blinds casting dancing shadows upon your bedspread. Kenai’s fur tickles your cheek where he has cuddled cozily to you, which is the usual with your cat, and gazing fondly at your furry friend, you blindly pat your desk to grasp your phone to sneak a Snapchat. “Don’t you move, KiKi.” Angling the phone, you take a photo, posting to your story to show off how precious your animal is. You were so lucky when you found your cat. After the devastating blow to the chest a year prior, the first thing you did was visit a shelter not far from Monnie’s house in search of the first animal to win your heart.

In all honesty, they all did, but one look at the small fluff puff, pressing his paws against the glass, meowing for you to notice him was all it took. He purred the moment your hands wrapped around his small body, his cold nose sniffing along your face that was stained with tears. He was the little superhero besides your sister that you needed to find some form of healing. Kenai hasn’t left your side, and he refuses to. You never knew a cat could love you so much, even on the nights you wake up with him sprawled across your trachea. His love may be smothering, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kissing the side of his head, his sleepy eyes remain out the window where birds zip past to distract him. Throwing the covers off you, the number one thing you do is brush your teeth, changing into your work clothes, and tying your hair up out of your vision. Kenai eventually follows you with all the hopes of getting his breakfast which you prepare, and before shuffling into your tennis shoes, you check your phone where your eyes enlarge to the rising beat of your heart.

Jeongguk is typing….

“What the hell?” You mouth. The guy from yesterday added you on Snapchat? How? The only thing you can think is your phone happened to be unlocked unless he was able to open the picture app to scan his Snapchat code. Either way, you are not wanting to admit how pleasantly surprised you are, and when the familiar tone of the Snapchat alerts his official message, you hold yourself back from replying to him too quickly.

It's an exuberantly strange feeling, how giddy one can become all because of a mere message of someone where their interest lies. And the nervous tingles at the bottom of your stomach ignite as you ponder every and any scenario involving the mysterious lad. You have yet to reply, nor do you have any clue what to expect, but you deeply hold nothing but genuine curiosity of how this may play out. Will he be interested in you? Are you ready for someone to be interested in you? That may be the more accurate question. Hoseok hurt you beyond words, but will Jeongguk do the same if you do end up finding him enchanting? What if he doesn’t think you are enough? With all the women in the world, it seems that you can’t hold a guy down enough to seem worth it. Stop it. Wincing, you grit your teeth knowing the negativity needs to end now. Of course, you are enough. You have always been enough, and nobody should make you doubt otherwise. “Anyone who doesn’t see the good in you is at a loss. You are literally the epitome of kindness,” Monnie’s words repeat in your head, uplifting you enough to focus your mind on other matters. Like, preparing your brain cells for the workday ahead.

Finicking with your uniformed red vest, you greet a fellow coworker with a smile, “Good morning, LenLen! Is it five o’clock yet?”

Giggling, LenLen’s face lights up at your question as she finishes folding a pair of jeans to set upon a display. “It is somewhere.”

“Good point,” walking the isles of the store to tidy up the shelves, you can’t help but wonder if it has been long enough since Jeongguk messaged you. Giving it another ten minutes to ensure the coast is clear of customers, you sneak into the breakroom, unlocking your phone to see what he said. You are appalled at yourself for being so consumed in the fact that a guy you just met has taken time out of his day to reach out to you and you wish you could maintain your cool.

‘Dude, your cat looks just like my hellion, Flounder.’

Smiling at what you have read, you click to save the message, so you don’t forget what is being talked about once you exit the snapchat, and you are nearly losing your mind when Jeongguk’s Bitmoji appears a few seconds after you start typing. Uncertain of what else to say, you respond with, ‘Prove it.’ GAH! You grimace, that’s what you have to say? Prove it? Beating yourself up, you forget to breathe the moment the red icon shows that Jeongguk has sent a picture of what you are assuming is his cat. Opening it with the click of your thumb, you are amazed how identical Flounder and Kenai are even considering they could be potential siblings, what a small world right? ‘First off, LOVE the name’, you reply, also realizing you are blushing because also within the picture, a side profile of Jeongguk shows that he is smiling.

Knowing you will have to return to the floor soon, you decide to let Jeongguk send at least one more message before you have to be a responsible adult. ‘Right? It was either Sushi, Tuna, or Sardine, but I thought Flounder would be more fitting and unique. Tetra is my other cat and she’s the worst about stealing my food.’

‘Sounds like Kenai can finally make some friends! And attempt to steal a morsel alongside.’

Typing out the message, you hesitate to send, but with the shared love of felines you honestly feel as though Jeongguk will not overanalyze your reply. Anxious for lunch break, you handle the hours with ease, conversing with LenLen from time to time to figure out who has done what on the chores list. LenLen speaks of a guy that she met recently, with a square jawline and hair as curly as a bowl of ramen noodles, yet his bright smile is what drew her to him. You talk of how happy you are for her and hope for the best, chickening out to tell her about Jeongguk, especially with it being, in your opinion, extremely too soon to mention.

Retrieving your food, you hide away in the breakroom where your eyes immediately glue to your cellular device anticipating whatever Jeongguk has said. ‘Hell yeah, my babies would love that, they do very well with other animals, surprisingly. Hey, sorry I left so soon yesterday, something came up.’

‘It takes a bit for Kenai to warm up, but he will adapt just fine. All he cares about is his stomach being full. No need to apologize, I totally get it.’ Eyebrows furrowed; you can’t help the wonder of what made him leave so soon. Also, you are not one to press further, if he wants to explain himself then he will. Otherwise, you hope that everything is okay with him.

It has only been a few days when you enter the coffee shop again, making it obvious that it indeed is your favorite, and you are shocked the employees don’t know you by name yet. Or so you assume. It is when you see Jeongguk taking a sip of his drink searching for an empty table, your heart leaps as if on cue. You are starting to assume that maybe he is a recent frequenter of this same coffee shop too. Why else have you seen him twice in the span of a few days? You’ve never noticed him here before this week, so now you wonder if he recently moved to the city. His leather jacket hugs his frame as his hair is styled to his liking. You hardly notice the way your mouth waters instinctively and you snap back into focus when you are next in line.

Pretending you didn’t notice Jeongguk, you decide to find a seat a short distance away just in case by some chance he acknowledges you. With coffee in hand, you pick a spot and not even sixty seconds later, you hear the familiar click notification of someone typing on Snapchat. Jittery, which you wish wasn’t so obvious, you carefully reach for your phone seeing: Jeongguk is typing… lighting the screen. Without thinking, you immediately lift your gaze to see him staring at you, a mischievous smirk gracing his pink lips.

Just for his delight, you play along spinning some storybook thought that you two are forbidden lovers hiding from the community by texting instead of speaking to one another in person. Get a grip, y/n, you scold yourself mentally. Opening the message, it reads: may I join you in coffee matrimony?

Shaking your head along with a breathy laugh to his cheesy statement, you respond with a pun, only if you keep me brewing, Tatts!

The creak of his chair echoes as he slides it back. Shyly, you hold his stare, watching him and his thick boots walk to settle into the chair across from you. “Clever,” he muses, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. Strands of his hair fall at the outer corners of his eyes, and you breathe in the faint scent of his cologne. This time, you do not get a whiff of any cigarettes, so you question if he’s even had one today. “If you’re not careful,” he deliberates, “I might have to show you what it’s like to get creamed.”

“Hm.” Arching an eyebrow, you catch on to his game, and if he wasn’t so damn alluring, you wouldn’t even give this conversation another thought with anybody else, “You better hope it tastes as sweet as sugar.” He doesn’t expect you to say that. He may have had women fall hopelessly at his feet, and as much as you feel you might be the next one, you definitely aren’t going to show it. Not right now.

“I hear that the ladies like it steamy.”

“Or iced,” you shrug nonchalantly. Ice play has always been a curiosity of yours, but he doesn’t have to know that. When he doesn’t seem to come up with another pun, you chew the corner of your lip before you lean onto the table yourself, inching as close as you can that the table between you two will allow. “Tell me, Boots, how is it… that a guy with this tough exterior can be so delicately precious about his cats?”

He gestures with his hands. “What can I say? I have to set a good example.”

You harrumph humorously. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He feigns surprise. “You think I am incapable of being a good role model to my children?”

“Oh please. All you have to do is keep their food bowls filled to the brim and you’ve already won dad of the year.”

Jeongguk winks, bringing his hands together to interlace his fingers reminding you of the tattoos you wish you can visualize more. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” he smirks.

You have a hard time breaking his gaze, but you clear your throat when it lingers a bit too long. “Anyways,” you attempt to change the subject, “I hope all is well.” You’re really hinting about why he left so suddenly the last time but knowing men do not always pick up on hints, you know you will accept whether he gets what you mean or not.

“Seeing that you put your clothes on right today, my OCD hasn’t been triggered.”

“Happy to see I’ve made a difference in your life.” You playfully sneer.

“It’s the little things that count.”

You feel your uterus squeeze. How the fuck is he so damn attractive for? “I’ll keep that in mind every time I dress.” You say it too quickly without thinking, your cheeks glimmering blood red. He quirks an eyebrow tauntingly.

“I can always help.”

“Nice try, Cigs.”

Except… You want him to try. That itching desire travels through your chest, and you wonder maybe… just maybe, you can get his help. Not necessarily with getting dressed because you swear you are competent to do so, but… maybe he can cure the curse of loneliness, even if it’s just for the moment. You want to deny that you hope it will be much more than just this moment. You can’t explain any of this. Are you trying to impress him?

Uncrossing your ankles underneath the table, you do slide your feet forward taking the tip of your boot to tickle up his leg and you can’t help the smirk that graces your lips when he sucks in a hiss. There’s a tad bit of space on the chair where you place your boot, gracefully taking your other foot to nestle on the other side of his hips. You don’t know what is taking over you, but it’s divine, and now you can’t stop yourself especially with his eyes tempting for you to continue. “I’m gonna need help with more than-”

“How’s it going?”

You jolt, boots slamming to the ground when your wide eyes shoot to see a smiling employee who clearly is going from table to table to check on customers. Stammering, you lick your lips while Jeongguk tries not to laugh in response to your sudden shock. “Goo-good!” You plaster a wide smile while the employee bows swiftly to then waltz to the next table as if they didn’t intrude on your façade to win over this incredibly attractive man across from you. Fuck, you grimace. How embarrassing.

When coffees are finished and downed in clumsy silence, you reach for a stick of gum, offering Jeongguk a piece so you don’t feel so insecure about the coffee breath. He offers to walk you home, but you tell him the bookstore is where you plan to be next. You’re not ready to go home because home is where you will replay the humiliation of what just happened repeatedly. You need a distraction.

Side by side, the pair of you set off down the alley, your nerves still shooting through your limbs while anxiety of what to talk about tackles your brain cells. You’re really trying to forget already, but it’s too fresh to just repress. Maybe there is a sliver of comfort with the silence, but of course, you overthink that as well because when do you not overthink?

You know what? You saw the pleasure in his eyes, there wasn’t a smidge of doubt in his expression when his body responded to you in the coffee shop. Noting that the alley is empty, you take the opportunity. If he wasn’t the slightest bit into you, he wouldn’t be adamant on making sure you arrive to your next location safely. But you need to think fast before you exit the alley. “Cigs!” You blurt. He stops the second you do. The gravel beneath his boots being the last sound you hear before adrenaline takes over.

Your hands grip the front of his leather jacket and when he clues in, as if rehearsed, his large hands grasp your hips, walking you backwards until your back gently bumps against the brick building. His gaze is intense as if preparing you what you are asking for while your mouth parts in yearning for whatever he is about to do. He over towers you, and your eyes never move even when his palms slide to your waist, his shaky exhales leaving his nostrils. His lips are pressed together. When you think he’s about to kiss you, he slams his eyes shut, shifting nothing but his forehead to lean to yours as your eyes flutter closed. Waiting.

Tingles resonate across your skin and the longing is immensely strong, you don’t want to hold back. You hadn’t realized that the back of your hands are against the brick wall as if you have surrendered to him. In a way, you have. The seconds feel like minutes, and when you think he will finally connect with your body, he pulls away. His hands ghost your waist.

For some reason, you keep your eyes closed. His lips then brush warmly to your forehead and with that, you hear the crunch of his footsteps disappearing as he did the first time you met. Your eyes peel open, and it’s like Jeongguk is a figment of your imagination because now:

he’s gone.

You never expected to hear from him again, but as days pass, it’s crazy how one person can enrapture the entirety of your thoughts even with the distractions from work because Jeongguk has mastered it for you. And that is how it has been the rest of the week, giddily waiting on his every text and enjoying every bit of the conversations shared between you two as if the sexual tension in the alley never happened. Eagerly, you toss and turn at night due to the cycle of daydreams rehearsing in your mind rent free, but you can’t help yourself, you love to imagine the possibilities of a real adventure with someone you want to spend time with again. If it ever happens.

“You’re glowing.” Monnie’s eyes squint as you grin away to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator for an electrolyte drink.

“I… cleansed my face?”

“No, it’s not that.”

Teasingly scoffing, you take a swig of your drink, “I... am… expecting?”

“Nice try,”

You nearly choke on the second sip, “C’mon, it’s not that impossible. You don’t know my schedule.”

“I know it enough to know that you haven’t missed a birth control shot since you became physically intimate, and that was practically decades ago.”

“You can just say sex you know,” you retaliate, “And for your information, I had sex last year.”

“Yeah, practically decades ago.”

“Fine. Ten or so excruciatingly long years ago, I had sex.”

“So, in conclusion, you are not with child.”

“Yet,” you ploy, letting Monnie glare at you as she slowly steps out of the kitchen. Who are you kidding? You don’t have time for kids, and you know it. Despite what your uterus wants, you do have to find a stable time to want to produce so for now, you shall wait until the time is right. Hence, why you remain on birth control until you know for sure. Otherwise, life goes on as always. Besides… you do recall the last time you had sex. And… it wasn’t with Hoseok. A secret you will take to your grave if you have to. A secret that happened one drunken night weeks after you and Hoseok broke up. And, you never went back hence why it has been a year since you’ve had sex.

You had guilt as if you cheated on Hoseok even though you did not in fact. Either way, you throw the memory into the depths of your mind and try to force yourself to forget how plush the man’s lips felt along your skin. Instead, you replace it with the brief kiss Jeongguk left on your forehead which feels so out of reach.

During the time of messaging back and forth, one evening, Jeongguk offers to call you due to an atrocious event happening at your workplace that you and LenLen got involuntarily involved in. A customer apparently read a sales sign wrong and didn’t realize it until checkout and no matter how much you and your coworker tried explaining things, the customer was not having it which leaves you to call a manager. Overall, it was a situation that unfolded that you honestly wished didn’t hover in your brain cells, but when Jeongguk calls so you can rant, it means the world.

“You are quite attractive and that’s one hundred percent a compliment, and I’m not one to just throw those around to male specimens.” You confess after long conversation. It’s like you moved on from the awkward interactions. Plus, you convince yourself that you came on too strong the last time you saw him.

He snickers on the other line and vividly you imagine his smile, tickling your tummy like the beating wings of multiple butterflies. “Why, thank you. You definitely have my attention, too, ya know.”

“Well…’ You press the knuckle of your thumb to your bottom lip for a second, “That’s very sweet of you to say.”

“And you also deserve to be respected. I’m sorry the customer gave you and your friend such a hard time. If retail is no longer what you want to do, my stepbrother owns a well-known bookstore. I remember you mentioning your love for books at one point and I’m sure he will offer good pay.”

“You would do that for lil’ ole’ me?”

Chuckling lightly, “Anybody with a smart mouth like yours needs a break too.”

“Oh shucks,” though he can’t see it, your cheeks flush a hot shade of red. “Consider me interested! I may give the store some more time since I don’t want to leave LenLen stranded so abruptly, otherwise, I might put in an application just cause.”

“I’ll keep my stepbrother posted.”

You thank him before you decide to head to bed, dazed on cloud nine as you hang up the phone.

It doesn’t matter how busy you are, the second you see the: Jeongguk is typing…. Notification it’s:

Halt. Stop everything and scramble to unlock the phone screen. Breathe. He is just a guy. He is just a dude with tattoos. Okay, must read message in sixty seconds to not seem desperate. Force yourself to Google search ‘kittens’ to distract your frantic desire to reply immediately to his every text. Does it work? Partially.

So…. I was wondering, would you happen to be off in the next few days? It’s been a minute.

Double take. Eyes enlarged. No way. Inhale. Release. Slowly but clearly, you reread the Snapchat message as if your life depends on it. How long has it been since you two have been messaging back and forth? Maybe a few weeks? But how should you respond? Maybe not as excited so you don’t appear deprived? Or seem super excited so that he knows you are most definitely wanting to meet up? You were super proud of yourself with how contained you stayed when he called you however long ago. Nay, appear neutral. Come across dainty with a sprinkle of bad ass, that’ll get him…. Right? Okay, maybe not.

Funny you ask because I happen to be off today. Send. You squeal internally. You genuinely can’t help how stoked you are in seeing him; the next question is, what is his idea of fun aside from the coffee shop? You are honestly up for anything even if it’s admiring the night sky on a roof with glasses of wine. Or, admiring his tattoos and him explaining the meanings of each one. You have always wanted to get a tattoo yourself but have yet to decide not only what to get but when the right time will be. As with anything, you want the first time to be special. That’s what she said, as you roll your eyes at yourself. Your uterus sure likes to talk, and you really hope you can keep yourself tame once you see him again because a year of no intimacy is already hard enough; and you atrociously hate admitting that you sometimes become lonely for a partner even though healing this past year has been a roller coaster. Even trying to avoid the temptation to reach out… to the last man you entangled with.

Shuddering with guilt, you stroll to the kitchen upon waiting for Jeongguk’s response, and you notice beneath a magnet the card the driver, Jimin, had given you forever ago. The day you met Jeongguk. Carefully shifting it out from under the magnet, an idea does form. Maybe Jeongguk would like to meet you there at the opening. Does he seem like a ‘bar’ type kinda guy? Oh. You wince. What does that even mean? Who doesn’t like a bar setting with a few beers? Plus, it’s been a while since you’ve been to one so why not?

Well today is our lucky day for I happen to have the next 12 hours to find something fun to do. Whaddya say about joining me?

Bring it on, Cigs. You respond and despite the nervous jitters, you type more after the initial message you sent. I actually promised to go to an opening of a new bar that happens to be tonight. If I send the address, would you like to meet me there?

When he asks for the time and where, you send the information. You will get to see him tonight. Now all you can do is panic about what to wear and if you even have anything to wear for the occasion.

Fantastic.

Quivering fingers amidst clammy palms slide across the tops of your thighs while you steadily breathe. You, being the early bird that you are, arrive at the bar a few minutes earlier than what you mentioned to Jeongguk. The last you heard from him was when you both finalized the plan. To calm the nerves, you definitely need a drink. A strong one. Your maroon dress clings to your frame the way you like, and you made sure your make up was exactly how you like it to be.. You haven’t felt this confident since you left your ex. And you hope this proves that you never need a man to help you dress.

You ordered a cab to get there so you didn’t have to worry about driving, and you figure if you and Jeongguk still hit it off in person as you do through messaging, then maybe he can make sure you get home safely. So, you hope. Maybe even make up for lost time since the alley.

Sending a quick message to let Jeongguk know you have arrived; your eyes observe your surroundings, and you don’t see him anywhere just yet. Maybe he is stuck in traffic? You wonder. If he is driving, obviously he shouldn’t message you, so you show your ID to the bouncer after standing in line for a few minutes letting the uneasiness settle.

Bodies are scattered among the floor as music blares throughout the building. Laughter and the smell of alcohol is the first thing that comes to your nostrils while your eyes trail for some familiar faces if any happen to be here. Colorful flashing lights wave over the tables, walls, and chairs while people dance continuously, and you really hope despite the overall dim lighting you recognize Jeongguk the second he walks in. Regardless, you search for Jimin since he is the one who invited you, but you haven’t seen him thus far.

Swallowing down the nerves, you squeeze through the crowd until you reach the bar, asking for something strong for you to sip on until Jeongguk arrives. It’s been about ten minutes once your drink is in your hand, and when you check your phone, Jeongguk still hasn’t read the message. You contemplate phoning him, but know it’s too loud to try, so you assure yourself he will be here. You have full confidence that he will call you if he is running late. Which… technically at this point he should have called you by now.

To divert yourself from the sinking feeling, you watch the bustles of people having the time of their lives when a particular human being causes your shoulders to stiffen and your mouth to run dry. Flashbacks of that night flicker in your mind as a weary sense of dread subdues you. The secret you have kept concealed from the world. Stay calm, y/n. Remain. Calm. You hardly remember how you got there, but you noticed how handsome he was, how his hair was loosening from the gel, and his smile put you at ease as you two laughed together. He was drunk, too, but both of you were still aware enough to know what was happening. What was stirring between you two. All you held onto was how he was the first to make you laugh in weeks during that time.

You knew you shouldn’t have been there, but you didn’t care, and you were desperate to feel something. Freshly single and overruled by anger, you let it win. When you kissed him for the first time, he froze, and you pulled away. But he held your eyes, flitting between them without a single word. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed you back, and you remember the way his palm felt on your cheek. The way the kisses grew aggressive and emotional as if he felt the guilt from keeping the secret buried from you. Knowing his best friend was in the wrong for what he did to you, but he knew it wasn’t his place to tell you the truth. But boy, had you made it your place to entangle with this guy who was giving into what his emotions were displaying. He wanted you to feel special. It was like his kisses brought an apology you wished your ex would have given you.

So, in a strange yet erotic way, you let it all go with him. Drunken, slovenly kisses until the pair of you started to sober up enough to experiment further. You can’t remember much of the foreplay, but you do, however, remember when he pressed himself into you, riding smoothly as he kissed every inch of your face and your neck. His hands didn’t exactly know where to touch, but his lips did, and that was enough. He moved in you so gently.

When you had awaken the next morning, you laid flat on your back while tears streamed from the corners of your eyes. You don’t know how long you remained there. You don’t know how long you silently cried. But you left before he woke up. You left before you both had to take in account of what you two had done. What you two had shared.

Now here he is in the present.

Kim Namjoon, Hoseok’s best friend, is here, and he spots you almost as immediately as you spot him. Gulping, you do not know what else to do other than spin around immediately and face the bar contemplating to chug every ounce of the alcohol remaining in your glass. Setting your drink down cautiously to not spill the contents, a rear of nausea raises its ugly head. What is Namjoon doing here!? The last time you saw him was the night you would do anything to forget.

Heart hammering, you squeeze your eyes closed. Namjoon may have given you a good night to hold on to for a while a year ago, but it wasn’t anything more than that. It couldn’t be. You were full of anger and a brief desire of revenge, and you were drunk, and you were-

Large hands lean upon the counter of the bar on either side of you as you suck in a breath. You recognize those hands. Those hands are the ones that slid along your body while you pleaded for more. And the countenance of his frame over towers you as you feel the tip of his lips centimeters from your ear kindling goosebumps along your arms. But these hands aren’t the hands you’ve been waiting for. Not one tattoo shows on these hands.

“Long time, no see.” Namjoon says into your ear. Mustering enough courage after steadying yourself, you turn to face him for the first time in a year. His eyes are as filled with longing as they were the night you last saw him. The kind of longing that wonders of how you feel about what occurred. If you still ponder it.

“What are you doing here!?” You say amongst your trembling body. You try to stay firm though you know deep down none of this was Namjoon’s fault. Trying to set your jaw, you take in the way his shirt tugs at his muscles, and the way his hair is gelled to perfection. You have forgotten how beautiful this man is, but Jeongguk. Where the literal fuck is Jeongguk? He is who you want deep down. So where is he? “Never mind that,” you shake your head, realizing he has every right to be here as you do. “What do you want?”

Namjoon’s eyes flicker along your face momentarily before he speaks. The way his dominant gaze holds you in place could drive any woman mad. “To make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh bullshit.” You say through gritted teeth because not only is Namjoon’s proximity bringing unwanted emotions, but it is also bringing the memories of Hoseok. Memories you really have tried not to relive.

Namjoon’s eyes squeeze shut. “y/n, I’m being serious. You fell off the face of the earth since…”

“Since what? Since Hoseok? Or you?” His mouth shuts automatically. “I don’t know what you expect me to say. What happened that night… It was my fault. I know that, but it shouldn’t have happened.” The anger for even saying Hoseok’s name after so long of refusing to is a strange feeling. Namjoon swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and you visibly see the guilt in his eyes because he agrees. Hoseok has been his best friend since they were kids. “How long had you known by the way? About the other girl? Who is she?” He releases a sigh, shaking his head while he tilts his gaze downward in shame. He knows. Of course, he does. He’s refusing to answer the question, but you ask another one anyway. You know it’s too loud to whisper, and from your peripheral, you may have gained a few stares, but you raise your voice just enough for Namjoon to hear. “Does… he know?”

“That we fucked?” Namjoon answers quickly, his eyes locking with yours. “Of course not.” He’s not going to risk losing his friendship is what you are reading between the lines.

“Good.” You refuse to move your gaze. “Keep it that way. Please.” He’s still so close. And you breathe in his scent. Your hand brushes his chest, while your forehead touches to his chin. Both of you share a silent understanding. A pact.

Namjoon is about to say more but you politely shove his arm out of your way ignoring his reach to stop you. You’re scared that you will give in to the thought of him from all these emotions. Whatever he has to say, he can keep it to himself. For now. You need to catch your breath.

Checking your phone, Jeongguk still hasn’t read your message and at this point, you have no idea of where he is or why he even bothered agreeing to show up if he truly had no intentions of seeing you again. Maybe you should have known better. He has the bad boy persona just from his stature, but maybe for once you wanted to believe you could get excited about someone again. Maybe he was the distraction you hoped for and needed, and now that your nerves are shot, and your heart is aching from all the emotions, you’ll do anything at this point to rid of it all.

Regretfully forgetting your drink at the bar and realizing after you move to another section of the place, you happen to see Jimin whose face lights up with recognition. Air escapes your lungs yet again because you forgot how attractive he is too. You notice he has been conversing with none other than Kim Seokjin which makes you want to faint since he is so famous and you have yet to meet a famous person, but for right now, despite the tears wanting to spill down your cheeks from the interaction with Namjoon and the acceptance that Jeongguk will not be showing up after all, you are so thankful that Jimin is making his way towards you. Until your emotions settle, you cannot risk humiliating yourself in front of a celebrity of Seokjin’s status. It would be too much.

Your jaw almost drops though when you catch a sudden glimpse of your coworker LenLen who is snug against a man with fluffy hair a short distance away, and you realize that this must be the man she’s been talking to you about! You tell yourself that you will make sure to say hey to her if you get the chance. It’s about time other conversation is shared that is not related exclusively to work.

“Hey there!” Jimin smiles fully, bringing your muddled mind back to attention. He leans in for a quick hug before pulling away. “You look amazing!”

Blushing, you feel where his fingers stop at your elbows. He has such a kind aura about him that makes you feel safe, so you hope he invites you to hang out, especially since LenLen happens to be in the group Jimin has been socializing with from your quick assumptions. “You look good, too!” You feel like you’re shouting, but you don’t care. You are somewhat relieved to finally have somebody to hang out with no matter how quick it lasts. “How is the opening going? Everything go according to plan?”

“Hell, yeah it has!” Jimin beams. “Taehyung is beyond happy with the results. The line outside is insanity!”

“So happy for you both!” You say, and before you think you may have some form of solace, you wonder where Namjoon is or if he miraculously left, but instead of him, you notice someone else. And you beg the heavens on why you can’t seem to catch a break.

Heart shattering to the floor, your eyes widen, and if Jimin is chatting, you definitely can’t hear him over the loud pounding of your heart in your temples. Is this the real reason Namjoon approached you? That he tried to stop you? To warn you?

If the forbidden person you are frozen by sees you, you don’t care, you need a reason for his heart to break. Something worse than him finding out that you slept with his best friend if he ever does. Hoseok pauses the moment he sees you standing there; a strange look of confusion dawns him instantly as his eyes look from you to Jimin and back. You can’t help the way your gaze automatically drifts to see if you find her, too. The girl he chose over you, but you do not see a female near him. Not yet. You tell yourself that you never want to know who she is, but there is always that sick vengeance of discovering.

Jimin’s eyebrow arches as he follows your gaze. Whether he knows Hoseok or not, that part is the least of your concerns. Jeongguk stood you up, Namjoon confronted you, and your ex-boyfriend who you loved for three years that relentlessly ripped your heart out of your chest- is here and it is too overwhelming to describe right now the full-blown panic shredding every fiber of your being; the utter disbelief how this shit show of a night has unfolded. You wish you were drunk enough to ignore this inexplainable pain. You wish you had a place to escape to.

But… Maybe Jimin is it. If Jeongguk didn’t want to be, then maybe Jimin will.

Despite his furrowed eyebrows, when Jimin turns just enough to look at you, it’s all it takes. Briskly, you cup his face, pressing a kiss to his cloud-like lips while he stumbles in surprise. Relief floods your quivering frame when he doesn’t even remotely hesitate to kiss you back. His lips are enticingly soft and pure, and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss letting the tip of his tongue brush yours ever so slightly. He tastes of peppermint and booze, and he tastes so good, you get tipsy just off his lips. You move your hands to lock behind his neck while his fingers find a hold on your waist. “Well damn,” he says breathless against your lips while peppering short kisses in between his words. “If I would have known, I would have done this much sooner.”

Gripping loose strands on the back of his head, you lift onto the tips of your toes. “You won’t regret it,” you purr into Jimin’s ear, gaze tauntingly floating to stare right into Hoseok’s, whose eyes widen in enormous shock, before Jimin pins you to his frame as if your clothes are a barrier he wishes didn’t exist. Everywhere is too crowded to really notice the way you two lock lips for majority of the evening. And you are well aware that you two are not the only ones making out.

You know Hoseok is watching every second, probably fuming, probably balling his fists, probably justifying every reason he has to interrupt. You hope he is watching every grip of Jimin’s fingers on your ass, the way his lips suck your neck, or the way he twirls your body under the spotlight if a song he likes comes on. You know the jealousy that’s bubbling beneath Hoseok’s chest is about to erupt. But he also knows better than to intervene between the woman he betrayed and who he is assuming to be her new boyfriend. Because it’s too late. You wouldn’t take him back even if he begged. Because whoever she is out there, she knows what she did to you, too. How she couldn’t even show her face when Hoseok burst onto the porch the day you found out. How her breasts were rounded beneath Hoseok’s shirt. The shirt you painfully remembered was missing when you finally had a moment where your emotions didn’t get the best of you. She had that shirt the entire time.

You hadn’t planned to invite Jimin over. The night drives on and you see that Jeongguk at this point, indeed, read your message, but didn’t bother to respond. Didn’t bother to even make an excuse. To explain why he left you to unintentionally fend for yourself. He could have been here. He could have saved you from tonight if he wanted to. But he didn’t.

You hop into Jimin’s car willingly and he drives you home, kissing you and kissing you while your clothes hit the bedroom floor. Jimin slides on a condom before he pushes into you from behind when your body pins to the wall, him pounding as if to the beat of a song while his teeth dig into your shoulder, into your neck. “Deeper!” You squeal. “Keep going, ah-!”

You do not care about the sounds that have echoed from either of your mouths or the number of positions you two have attempted. You lost count after four. You don’t care that you just met him a few weeks ago. You don’t care how you are going to feel in the morning. Yes, you are aware that you are sober this time. But you want Jimin to keep moving inside you until you forget about your one-night stand with your ex’s best friend. Till you forget about Hoseok’s betrayal that haunts your mind and shreds your heart. Till you forget about the girl who took part in ruining your life. Till you forget about the tattooed man who you hoped would rescue you.

Cigs.

Fuck you, Cigs.

The morning comes quickly coupled with a pounding headache while you groggily stretch your arms and legs amidst the tangled bed sheets. You accidentally brush warm skin causing you to jolt upright. Wincing, the pounding in your head worsens, yet you turn just enough to assess that you one hundred percent just hooked up with the hot driver who co-owns a bar and is best friends with a celebrity.

Fuck.

Your palms slap to your face. You weren’t even intoxicated, so how could you let this happen? You may not have been drunk off your ass, but you sure as hell were emotional and that can be equally as dangerous as taking shots of the strongest alcoholic beverage out there. “Shit,” you murmur to yourself, watching the slow fall and rise of Jimin’s breathing. Kenai chirps outside your bedroom door and you realize it is probably past his breakfast time. Slipping out of bed as quietly as you can, you freshen up and brush your teeth. Twice. Just in case if you ultimately decide to continue this rendezvous before you kick Jimin out.

Shuddering, you wonder how loud you might have been last night. And by that you mean, was your sister home? And did she hear the commotion you let out the second you got Jimin alone? If she was home maybe, you could handle that truth. What also concerns you is if Yoongi was home too. You couldn’t bear facing the two of them if they were home while you tackled Jimin like a football player between the sheets.

Oh, when will all this humiliation end!? You want to scream outwardly. It’s been never ending. And, when you start to dress into a nightgown, you finger at the red mark on your shoulder. A reminder of where Jimin had been. And you hate that you like it.

Leaving the bathroom trying to rid the thought, you see Jimin is fully awake and putting on his shirt, his pants already hugging his toned legs. His hair is unkempt from the night before, and it looks cuter that way with his array of colors dyed with the blonde. “Hey there,” he smiles brightly when he sees you. You notice him pop a piece of gum in his mouth which you figure is because he never planned to bring a toothbrush… Because he hadn’t planned to sleep with anybody until you ferociously pounced.

“Hey,” You reply softly, crossing your arms to lean against the door frame of the bathroom. Kenai is still meowing outside the bedroom, frequently pawing at the door.

“Somebody’s pissed.” Jimin chuckles, pointing at the door.

“He’s starving 24/7 and likes to remind me just as often.” You kid, eventually stepping to sit on the bed. You aren’t sure how to feel about last night. But at the same time, should you regret it? The way Jimin’s eyes swept your body, to be honest, you kind of don’t regret it. “How did you sleep?” You try to make small talk to prevent any uneasy friction.

“Wonderfully.” He smiles again. “I hope you did?” He stands, rounding the bed to gently take a seat next to you. The smell of mint from his gum wafting to you tempting you to taste it.

“I did.” You return his smile, leaning in to touch a small kiss to his plush lips. Your headache is starting to dull some which makes you feel better. “Thank you for last night. I had fun.” You lean your forehead against his cheek as he leans back into you.

“I had fun, too.” He says quietly. Taking in a deep breath, he stands as you follow suit. “I better get going. Taehyung has been blowing up my phone wondering where I am. Really, I mean it when I say I had fun. Maybe… we can link up again soon?”

Hand in hand, you lead him to the front door while Kenai excitingly runs his furry body against both of your legs. Giggling, you kiss Jimin some more, “I’d like that.” A couple more kisses and you smile against his lips, “See ya.”

“See ya.” He nods, kissing your cheek one last time before taking off. As much as you wish that your heart would be soaring through the sky: it doesn’t. All your head can seem to obsess over is why Jeongguk stood you up. Was it all a game? Just to get a high that a girl wanted him, just for him to leave her stranded. What gives? In the end, is it really worth the explanation? You are so sick of getting screwed over.

“Who was that?”

“GAH!” You jump causing Kenai to dash wherever he can to hide. Your heart nearly stopped beating and your hand flies to your chest with relief when you see the teasing stare of your sister, Monnie.

“Monnie! For goodness sakes, you scared the fuck out of me!”

“Well!?” Monnie, not missing a beat, bellows. “Who was he!?”

“Nobody.” That is your first response as if you need a defense mechanism.

“Nobody!? With the animalistic sounds I heard last night, you have the absolute nerve to tell me that was nobody!?”

“He’s… He’s a guy I met a few weeks ago,” you try to reply while your heartbeat attempts to calm.

“He is cute,” she coos. “Like smooth like butter cute. Like the butter you slab on a piece of crisp toast cute. He can make anybody feel warm and fuzzy. Girl, I’m telling you right now-”

“Okay, we get it! I know.” You aren’t sure how to cope with the chagrin reddening your cheeks, or the dulling headache on top of it, but you manage somehow. “Please tell me Yoongi isn’t here.”

“Lucky for you he’s at a conference and has been since yesterday afternoon, so he didn’t hear a thing. I was supposed to go but I got-” She mimics what is supposed to be a cough into her hand. “Sick.”

“Oh! You are ridiculous!”

“It’s called, my sister brought home a cute guy for the first time in a decade, and I must hear all about it.”

“Nope!” You say trying to brush past her. “By the way, it’s only been a year.”

“Not anymore-!”

“Gah!” You clap back, slamming your bedroom door, and diving onto your bed, the mattress bounces your body while you scream heavily into a pillow. The scent of Jimin is everywhere in your room still and your sister’s voice keeps rattling on about how she just wants you to be happy and that you deserve to be even though in your heart, you have no idea when that day will come. Eventually you will confide in her about everything, but for now you will bury your face into the pillow and let the tears flow until you fall back asleep.

Monnie reluctantly gives you space, but only because she has ‘somewhere to be,’ and she is ‘not going to let you make her late.’ So, she says. You give Kenai an extra bit of food in hopes to win back his forgiveness and you dress out of the nightgown considering another trip to the coffee shop. Your eyes burn slightly from the crying earlier. After last night, you happen to note that you never got Jimin’s number which is probably a good thing so he can avoid the hot mess of thoughts spinning profusely in your mind. Between seeing Namjoon and Hoseok last night and hooking up with Jimin, you can hardly imagine what the two could have said after seeing, not only you, but you sucking faces with another guy. Though it’s nice to have male attention from time to time, you didn’t expect it all to unravel at once.

Some people would make you feel so stupid for your actions while others would praise you for being so bold and independent. You’re single and you can do whatever you want. Are you really mad that you hooked up with Jimin last night? Out of desperation for running into your ex? Or are you more broken about Jeongguk standing you up, and ashamed that you are upset about it when you only have seen him twice?

You can’t help the way you feel. You inhale and exhale deeply. Running from your thoughts is all you want right now.

Entering the coffee shop, you ordered a cab and left a tip because you really despise driving, and here you are in line eventually ordering the same drink you got last time. Why you feel to look for Jeongguk, you wish you didn’t. Training your eyes to focus on what is in front of you- you grip the coffee cup once it’s placed on the counter, and you find a small table in the back away from as many people as you can avoid.

He has his reasons, but you really hope that the reasons weren’t to play with your feelings purposefully. Even though that’s exactly what it looks like. Inwardly, you accept that you probably will never see him again, and you also convince yourself that maybe Jeongguk really was a figment of your imagination. The messages on your phone will say otherwise, but for now, with the hot liquid of your coffee stinging your tongue, you will continue convincing yourself that he is a simple figment of your imagination.

That thought lasts about thirty minutes, when your coffee is halfway downed and the view of a tatted hand glides upon the table where you feel your throat shrink. No fucking way. You keep your gaze on your coffee cup, the faint smell of a cigarette wafts in your direction and you refuse to look at him. Anger blares inside you. You can tell he is gradually taking the seat across from you because it is pretty evident how rigid you are in response to his presence. He can tell you are annoyed. Maybe even furious.

“Hey…” He forces once he scoots the chair closer to the table. You stay silent. “Look, I-”

“What do you want?” You look up finally. His look is firm, but guilt stricken all at the same time. He presses his lips together. “No, really. Amuse me.” You wave a hand at him. “Was it a one night stand you wanted? Because you could have just asked.”

His eyes enlarge but only slightly. “No. No, that’s definitely not-”

“Then what? What do you want?” You rarely give him a chance to speak before you start gathering your things. To prevent unwanted attention, you toss the coffee cup into the trash can on your way out, Jeongguk on your heels. Marching toward the sidewalk that you can follow back to the city; you huff in exasperation when you feel his hand curl around your arm.

“Let go of me!” You say loudly, thrusting your arm away from him.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay. Just- just let me explain-”

“Oh, go fuck yourself.” You try to walk away.

“y/n. Please.”

You thought you lost your shit last night when you attacked Jimin’s mouth in front of Hoseok. And you thought you lost your shit this morning when you sobbed into your pillow. But this anger and desperation and sadness that you have kept pent up since the day you discovered Hoseok’s infidelity is about to explode. And it’s about to explode in what you know will embarrass you for the rest of your life. Or… it just flat out won’t.

Scoffing, you pause, spinning to face Jeongguk, whose hands raise as if to calm you down, but you are far from calm. “You know what?” You say slowly. “That whole spiel about how I deserve to be respected was a whole load of bullshit wasn’t it?” You step forward making it clear that you aren’t done speaking, and though Jeongguk claimed weeks ago that he wasn’t scared of anything, there is the slightest hint of fear you gather in his eyes though he straightens to let his arms hang loosely at his sides. “I’m starting to think there’s no such thing anymore. First, after three years, with who I thought was the absolute love of my life, three years, he cheats on me with some chick I still to this day do not know who she is or how the fuck they met. So, for unplanned revenge, I fucked his best friend and guess what!?” You throw your hands up, “They both were at the bar last night. Both. Of. Them. How the fuck does that happen!? I move to the city to run away from my problems, and they follow me anyway. They fucking follow me as if I need that reminder. As if I need to relive that heartbreak over and over again. As if I deserve it- to have it thrown in my face.” Running your hands through your hair, you choke back a sob. You refuse to cry in front of this man who is basically a stranger but not really. You don’t notice the remorse showing in his eyes after revealing your limited yet very detailed confession. How he could have easily prevented this.

“I meet you once, and for the first time in a year, I finally know what it’s like to be excited again. To have something to potentially look forward to.” You laugh one syllable. “And yet, I don’t fucking know a single thing about you. Where you’re from, where you work, why you suddenly start coming to this coffee shop when I have never seen you there before, and I keep beating myself up for being so damned hurt about this when you’re a total stranger.” You can’t even look him in the eyes. “And there you are, completely leaving me stranded in a bar when you said you’d fucking be there. Respect, my ass. Have a nice life, Cigs.”

“You do deserve respect.” Oh, why do you pause? “I fucked up last night, okay!? I um…” He trails off, shaking his head as if to rid of whatever he originally was going to say. “Something came up-”

“Is that what it’s going to be every single time!? Something came up!?”

He winces when he acknowledges how bad it seems. “Look I- I know how it sounds. Please. Just let me make it up to you.”

Scanning him from his styled hair to the charcoal color of his boots, the thrilling sense of lust clouds your frame simultaneously to your mouth watering. It takes everything in you not to rush forward and cling onto him as if your life depends on it. But, at the same time, you see a guy who completely ghosted you on a night you may have needed his company most. And, if he was willing to do that to you last night, why wouldn’t he do it again?

The anger is still written all over your face and your demeanor. Sneering, your lips curl.

“No.”

And you stomp off toward whatever destination you hope to find as you did a year ago when you ran from disappointment. You wonder how it feels for him to see you walk away this time.

It doesn’t matter the day or the hour. Every time you step foot into the same coffee shop, he’s there. Jeongguk is there. Sitting a table away, keeping his eyes on you. Waiting for you to cave. You have ignored every single message he has sent. Every call he has attempted. Yet, you are also fighting the urge to just be near him. Give him another chance. Maybe it’s the fact that you truly do want to know where he was the night, he stood you up. But is it worth knowing the truth? The only thing you didn’t mention the last time you spoke to Jeongguk was the one night stand you had with Jimin. Not that it was any of Jeongguk’s business, but still. You don’t want to appear like sex with strangers is something you do all the time, because it’s not. And even if it was, it’s nobody’s business but yours.

You decide to walk the city. If he follows you there, then so be it. Compiling your things, you head out onto the sidewalk, letting the breeze nip your skin. The recent memory of LenLen asking about Jimin and you trying your best to answer her questions without blushing replays. She told you about Taehyung and how him and Jimin are best friends which you happened to already know and you relay to her how happy you are that she found Taehyung. You also apologize that you didn’t get to say hello, but she winks at you for she witnessed the reason why.

When you start reaching the city, you hardly can believe the huge sign, flashing upon the tallest building, of Hoseok’s face which roots your feet to the cement while tears spring in response. Cursing under your breath, you realize that one of the books he had been working on back when you two were together must have been released, the one he continuously spoke about. The one inspired from the script he hoped Kim Seokjin would film a movie with. The one that began with you. Which means, if it has become a success, then now you are going to see his face everywhere you turn. And, if the movie is made, that’s even more publicity Hoseok will gain and even more often you will have to see his face. The more hurt you will endure.

“Damnit,” you want to sob. Out of all the places you think to turn, you flee into the bookstore just to almost collide with a book stand filled from top to bottom with Hoseok’s novel. Fret overpowers your system, and you rush out the doors the second you see it, and you figure maybe walking home, no matter the distance, will help clear the stress out of you. Even though you know it won’t. Because at this point, you give up being in public.

You nearly slam into a figure from your rushed state and when the whiff of a cigarette mingled with cologne greets your nose, you know exactly who you’ve run into. “Why are you doing this.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. “Why are you following me, Asshole? Did I not make myself clear?”

“I told you I wanted to make it up to you.”

“And I told you no from what I recall.”

“I have short term memory loss.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Nemo-”

“I’d prefer if you joined me.”

“You really are asking to get smacked.”

“I like it rather rough.”

“And I’d like for you to leave me the hell alone.”

“Not until you hear me out.”

“And why should I?”

His eyes flit between yours, “Because I can’t let it go. I messed up.”

“You don’t deserve my forgiveness if that’s what you’re implying. To be honest, it’s ridiculous that I’m even mad about it to begin with. I don’t even know you.”

“See, but you have every right to be. You should be mad.”

“Okay. Well then accept that I’m pissed at you and move on.”

“I shan’t.”

You could laugh. You almost laugh. But you hold it together because you can’t just let him think he can get away with how he just randomly leaves you stranded. When you both almost kissed in the alley way, you could sense that his desire was as solid as yours. He acted as if he wanted you. So, why did he just walk away? What is the point in pursuing someone who will always walk away?

Shoving past him, you wish you would have driven this go round so a route of escape would be available. But unfortunately, you didn’t think this through. The only place you can think of is the garden center above the bookstore that you have only visited every now and then this past year. What of Hoseok could possibly be up there? A mural? Stalking in the direction of the building, you avoid making eye contact with the huge ad about your ex, and eventually round the store to find the elevator. There are only a few floors before you reach the top and once you elbow the button to awaken the elevator, the last thing you expect is Jeongguk to follow you right in when the large doors slide open. But honestly you should have expected it.

You elbowed the button for the top floor where the smell of flowers waits for you, but you can’t ignore the tension simmering once the doors close. You bite the corner of your lip in agony, the ding of the elevator agonizingly slow. “I know you’re not about to stop and smell the roses, Eyebrow.” Referring to his eyebrow piercing that makes your insides lustfully shiver, you’re shocked he takes all your nicknames so well, but then you remember you’re supposed to be mad at him. “Why can’t you just take a hint?”

His finger presses to your lips, vanishing your words as he seductively shushes you. And he shifts to stand in front of you, his nose dangerously tickling the side of your cheek while your body fights to not react to the arousal forming below. He whispers, “I don’t need a hint to know that you want me just as much as I want you.” Whimpering, your eyes trace his face, the way his jaw curves, the way his eyes set firmly to you with no intention of moving. Did you hear him correctly? Did he just admit that he, in fact, wants you too? “So,” he continues, slipping his finger away from your lips, he brings his mouth to yours while you sigh in pleasure. Fuck. Your body begs for him to close the gap. Begs for him to kiss you. But he doesn’t. Not yet. “I suggest you behave yourself if you want to keep me tame.”

He is doing to you what you did to him that day in the coffee shop making an effort to seduce him. But this time, he is winning more than you are letting on. When the ding of the elevator brings attention to the opening doors, Jeongguk sighs, “We’re not going there.” Reaching back to hit whatever button he chooses; you don’t even move to see. He can take you wherever he wants, and you could smack yourself for conceding.

“What do you mean?” You murmur, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I um,” he tilts his head as if embarrassed. “I live here. So, we’re going to the third floor.”

“Excuse me, what?” Your mind is trying to make the connection how it’s possible that he lives on the third floor of your favorite bookstore smack dab in the city. You’ve heard of people who have homes above the places they own, so… Does that mean Jeongguk owns the bookstore? You thought he said his stepbrother owns it? His hand finds yours when the doors slide open again, showing shelves upon shelves of books with sparse customers quietly reading or viewing the array of covers.

Your brain cells are racing but never reaching a finish line as your eyes frantically scan the hallway the pair of you are entering. You try to appreciate the feel of Jeongguk’s hand holding yours, warm and firm and surprisingly safe though you wish you hadn’t lost the will to fight. Why is it so easy for him to melt your anger away? To melt your sadness? To heighten your senses.

He scans something, you assume a card, before opening a large door, flipping on the lights to show an area of simplicity and barely any furniture to decorate once you step inside. The scent is new as if it has just been built, but you know that is impossible considering this bookstore has been around for years. Automatically, you both kick off your shoes. “My stepbrother used to live here before, so I moved in.” He says as if reading your mind. “That’s why there’s not much here, but there’s enough to keep comfortable.” He gestures toward a sofa awkwardly sitting in the middle of what you assume is the living room and loud meows start echoing the second you see a few cat towers sprawled out. Flounder and Tetra.

“I remember you saying he owns a bookstore… it’s here?” You say in disbelief as the cats come flying to greet you and Jeongguk. How can you be mad anymore when these sweet little fluff puffs are rubbing against your legs, mewing for attention? Jeongguk giggles while he tries to bring back the conversation.

He shrugs, unintentionally dismissing the sexual tension that concocted in the elevator only seven minutes ago now that the cats are out and about. “He’s an actor now. He took over when his dad retired.”

“…What do you do?” You’re quiet and you don’t mean to be, but you’ve been struggling with mixed emotions for what seems like an eternity. At this point, you accept if this is a dream versus reality.

“Nothing,” he says after a moment, head looking downward. You lick your lips when your eyebrows furrow, but strangely you understand this shame. If your sister didn’t have money, you’d be homeless. Your parents live far away, and in all honesty, you don’t truly talk to them as often as you should. You work part time at a retail store because you can’t seem to get your shit together enough to work full time otherwise, you’d be in the same boat… you’d be doing just that. Nothing. “I used to work as a tattoo artist before I moved here, but um… you may find this hard to believe, but I got my heart broken by someone I fell in love with when I was eighteen.”

“You?” You croak. You mean it to come off as a joke but fail miserably. He finally tilts his head up, softly grinning.

“Yes, a tatted asshole that wears leather and smokes cigs can be capable of falling in love and getting heartbroken instead of causing the heartbreak, Macchiato… Happy?”

Why this vulnerability is happening is unbeknownst to you, but you are very happy that he seems to be opening up. He all but admitted he wants you, too. So, the least he can do is try. Try letting you see past the mystery. Try staying instead of leaving. Saying hello instead of goodbye.

“How long were you two together?” You may have spilled the beans of how long you were with Hoseok, not that Jeongguk knows who he is, but three years is a long time.

“Five years. Found out she cheated on me, too… I lost myself for a long time. Ended up at a different girl’s house every week to numb the pain and never called them back the next day. Became addicted to smoking cigarettes. Went to parties quite a bit… Got drunk, you name it… Moved here with my children the second Jin told me I could. That’s when I finally calmed down and realized, I needed to change before it got worse.”

“I’m so sorry… Sometimes people underestimate the pain of a breakup. Especially if you were with them for such a long time as you were.” It’s quiet a little longer than you mean for it to be, but the similarity of how the two of you got your heart broken is an odd coincidence. But then you gasp when a lightbulb clicks. “Jin!? As in, Seokjin?”

“Yeah?” He says unhurriedly. “Is that hard for you to believe?”

“What? No! I’m just- the Kim Seokjin is your stepbrother? He owns this bookstore?”

“Well yeah, he’s the reason the bills are paid for now until I, myself, can get my shit together.”

You know the concentration it takes to complete a puzzle? Well, this is one of those times. Randomly, you wonder. Does Jeongguk know Jimin since Seokjin knows Jimin?

“Do you know who Jimin is?” You spit out. How are all these male specimens connected? Either way, you are definitely not telling Jeongguk about the rendezvous with Jimin that’s for sure.

His eyebrows scrunch and you visibly witness the way his shoulders rigidify as if he knows exactly who you are talking about. “How do you know Jimin?”

“No reason, just wondering. I saw him hanging out with Seokjin at the bar you failed to show up to.”

“Hm.” He hums once. “Interesting.”

“He co-owns the bar with a guy named Taehyung… My co-worker is dating him. Taehyung, I mean.” You’re having a hard time reading Jeongguk’s expression, but he attempts to not be so uptight.

“Did you… See anybody else there?”

His question hits you by surprise, but you know there is no way he could be referring to Hoseok and Namjoon… Could he? No, of course not. He wasn’t there. He doesn’t know who your ex is specifically. You may have mentioned your ex and your ex’s best friend were at the bar, but you had never given any names. It’s as if Jeongguk is asking solely about someone else… But who?

Pushing your fingertips to your forehead, you release an exasperated sigh. “Can I use your restroom?” You need a moment to yourself. All this unwanted ‘solving’ isn’t getting you anywhere. And why is Jeongguk being so weird about Jimin? He doesn’t know about the hook up and Jeongguk is also not your boyfriend, so why does it matter?

“Yeah, this way,” he points in the direction of what you assume is his bedroom. “On the right.”

The door gently clicks behind you while your palms cling onto the counter when you’re securely within the bathroom. It’s huge. You can tell it’s spacious by the fact you can breathe amidst the anxiety. A jacuzzi and a walk-in shower, a door that you are confident is a towel closet is what you take in once you twirl around. It’s beautiful and so clean, it’s as if nobody has inhabited it in a long time. Either way, you don’t want to take too long, so you pull out a small bottle of mouth wash and complete a brisk breathing exercise before filing out into Jeongguk’s bedroom.

You hadn’t taken time to notice how large his bed is either. The covers are invitingly dark, and you can tell from the curtains that are slightly split show the windows to a magnificent view of the city. Whoever Seokjin’s dad had to construct this place was an absolute genius. A home inside a bookstore, that would be a dream come true for millions.

You brace yourself when you step into the living room, and you notice Jeongguk is preparing wine glasses, a bottle of red is in his hand as he begins to pour the crimson liquid. His cats are munching on some food that he put to keep them occupied. You can tell by his body language that he is going to change the subject regarding Jimin. “How did you know?” You say ultimately when you pull out a stool in front of the counter.

“Nothing a good bit of wine can’t fix.” He winks. “Plus, I figured it will calm the nerves, so we can actually… talk.”

You nod reluctantly, fingers pressing beneath the glass before you take a slow sip. The taste is sour with the mouth wash, but you know after a few sips that will change. A wave of calm floods your chest and limbs once you swallow. “Thank you.” You murmur. He leans on the counter instead of moving to take a seat next to you. He can’t take his eyes off you, and he can’t even explain how just being around you makes him feel. You bring a comfort he hasn’t had in a long time. He knows he has gone about it the wrong way, but he is determined to not let you go this time. No matter how much his ex keeps trying to reach out to win him back. He wants you.

“I’m really sorry about the bar.” He manages to say. He’s not the best with apologies, but he knows you deserve one. “That was really fucked up. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No… You shouldn’t have.” You’re honest because you know what it’s like to be betrayed. Jeongguk of all people should get it too after admitting that he has been cheated on before as you have. You must stand your ground regardless of how weak he secretly makes you because no, this specific situation may not be seen as a betrayal, but it was not okay that he left you there alone. He does, however, want to confess everything, of why he didn’t show up. But something keeps telling him that it’s too soon. When he’s ready, he plans to tell you. But for now, he wants to prove to you that he’s not going anywhere this time.

“I know,” he murmurs.

Taking a longer sip of the wine, you rub at your eyes. “He really did some damage…” You admit, appreciating how easy it is for the pair of you to start opening up. This is something you have battled to talk about since the day you witnessed it. “I mean three years of my life I gave to this guy, and he just…” You throw your hand up. “He just throws every bit of it down the drain. There wasn’t even the slightest red flag. I came home. Heard them in the bedroom… Our bedroom. And I just-” You didn’t want to cry, but the tears greet you with the burn of your nose. “I just left. I don’t even know how long it had been going on. All I know is I blocked him on everything and refuse to give him the time of day. Because I can’t bring myself to face him. Or the pain of it all.” Jeongguk listens contently, sorrow filling his umber eyes. “When I saw him at the bar for the first time in a year, the anger that filled me at first, I wanted to do anything to make him feel the same devastation I felt that day. Sure, I slept with his best friend weeks after the breakup, but he doesn’t know that. And, as much as I want to say the revenge was satisfying… It wasn’t.” You tap your fingers on the counter. “Now I’m here. I’m here in this city, living with my rich sister, and working a part time job. It’s like I want to live in my misery… At least, I have my cat.” You smile, Kenai’s sweet face bringing you peace.

“It takes a long time to move on from something like that. What happened to me was nearly two years ago and it still hurts.” Jeongguk says because he knows exactly how that feels. He still succumbed to his ex’s every beck and call until he met you. That’s when everything started changing for him. Why he couldn’t think straight. When his ex was trying to distract him, his mind was filled with you. “I saw the guy she was cheating with once. I planned to confront him, but… chickened out. I knew if I wasn’t careful, I’d do something I’d regret.”

“Who was he?” You ask. Jeongguk raises his shoulders, pursing his lips.

“I don’t know his name. Just that Seokjin was working on a movie, happened to meet the guy and my girlfriend at the time was with him. Jin put two and two together and called me right after. He recognized her in some of the pictures I posted on social media before I deleted it all.”

“He’s an actor, too? The guy she was with?” You wonder.

“I’m assuming.” He speaks. “She never really met Jin before. Or at least, I never told her specifically that he was my stepbrother. That was a part of my life I tried to keep distant, but when he called me concerned, I knew why she was coming home so late. Or, why she didn’t panic if she knew Jin was my brother who was seeing her in the flesh with another dude.” Jeongguk wets his lips. “And that’s when he tried to help me cope by giving me his apartment here when he saw how far gone, I had gotten. And that’s why she learned to do research on who I’m connected to because apparently me and Seokjin know everybody due to his fame and fortune.” He means the fame and fortune as a joke, but you still ponder.

“So…” Your expression confused. “If that’s the case, how do you know Jimin?”

Jeongguk swallows roughly, “I asked you first.”

Now, it’s your turn to gulp. “About that.” The stool screeches from under you as you immediately stand, chugging every last drop of your wine before you clutch your things to your side. The indent Jimin left on your shoulder has faded some, but it still befuddles you knowing Jeongguk could clue in if he wanted to. “I-I have to go.” You really don’t, but the way your entire body is flushing, and your eyes are wide with panic. What else are you supposed to do? Running is what you do best. As if a lightbulb goes off, Jeongguk’s laugh reverberates behind you.

“Wait a minute, have you banged him?” Halt. You choke completely on your own spit; your trachea insults you while you cough up a storm. Goodness gracious. Why this? Why now? “You totally banged him didn’t you!? Holy shit.”

“So, what if I have?” You stifle another cough whirling to face him. “What the hell are you going to do about it?”

That’s when the air between you two immediately silences as if you gave him the challenge of a lifetime. Not even Tetra or Flounder are around to fill in the void. It’s as if you both are back in the elevator where the temptation became so alive, it was hard to ignore. It was irresistible. The only sound is your breathing as it increases after Jeongguk’s wine glass clinks against the counter. There’s a prolonged few seconds before it all becomes thunderous. He makes his way to you as your purse slips from your quivering arm. Your breathing stops. His fingertips press to touch to the skin of your chest as he tickles circles. His eyes flit from your parting lips to the way your eyes start to show you’re imploring for him to not stop. He taunts you. Edging so close to you, his lips are barely on yours when he whispers, “I’m going to make you forget he exists.”

This time, you’re not letting him walk away from you. Not again. Not ever. Your palm finds itself gripping his shirt while you close the gap. The millisecond Jeongguk’s lips connect with yours, it’s electrifying. It’s as if somebody injected fireworks into your veins, shooting across your skin and awakening your senses ten times the normal, exploding across your mind, body, and soul. Your heart pounds so loud, you’re shocked if he doesn’t hear it. You’ve been with three other guys sexually prior to Jeongguk, but something about this is mystifying. Powerful.

His mouth moves with yours as you gasp into his kiss, letting him guide you until the back of your legs recognizes the arm of the sofa. His hand moves to tangle into your hair while you deepen the kiss, the tip of his tongue finding yours as he caresses it simultaneously taking his free hand to slip into the front of your pants, but you’re not ready for him to pleasure you yet. You want to show him what he will miss out on if he doesn’t choose you in the end. But you weaken when his heated lips press slowly and gently along your jawline, the arousal you feel drips, his fingers sliding further to slip past your underwear until he runs his fingertips up and down your heat.

“Oh,” he moans with a slight growl burying his face into your neck from how drenched you already are for him. “Holy fuck,” he hisses, trying to keep himself tame. You love the sound of his fingers sloshing up and down against you. But you want it to be you on him.

Shoving him back to give you some space, his hand flies from your pants and he watches you not expecting you to kneel. And not expecting you to fumble undoing his belt, tugging it out of his belt loops, he hisses in response to the point you see his bulge prominently inside his pants. Oh, the way your mouth waters instinctively at the sight of his erection.

Unbuttoning his pants, you yank them down to his ankles, releasing his erection from his underwear where you hum pleasurably at his girth. Your hands run along his thighs seductively; his eyes darken with lust as you connect with them naughtily. Your palm then slides around his length, stroking him agonizingly slow before you take him into your mouth. Letting his precum welcome your taste buds before you hollow your cheeks, the warm skin of his being ignites your arousal even more. His large hand moves to the top of your head where your strands tangle between his tatted fingers. That’s when you begin, bobbing back and forth as speedily as you can, basking in his moans at how amazing you feel. Your hands cling to the bottom of his jacket while you continue your bliss eventually releasing him from your mouth to push him onto the couch where his back plops upon the cushions.

You push his shirt up to visualize his toned abdomen before dipping down to continue sucking, moving your other hand to massage his scrotum, giving him every bit of pleasure, you can to make him crave you. To make him pine for you. Another trick is up your sleeve when your hand returns to his being, following up and down with your mouth while he tries every way not to cum before he gets the chance to pleasure you more. “Holy fuck,” He groans in satisfaction which makes you continue your fun.

Your tongue laps around his tip before you wipe the spittle at the corners of your lips away. When you’re about to continue, he raises, pulling you to his mouth as he kisses you more, becoming hungrier as he shifts you closer. You can tell your clothes are getting in his way for when he pauses, dazed, his hands start to tug at your pants, eventually freeing you from them as you help kick them off. The air in the apartment is colder than you realize. Goosebumps start flying down your legs as you try to regain your focus on removing the articles of clothing off Jeongguk’s top half. Eventually, all linens are plopped onto the floor and your naked bodies are starting to feel every inch of warm skin, captivating every sense, every cell, every emotion, every lustful bliss.

He pauses and you realize his fingertips have paused at the fading spot on your shoulder. The place where Jimin’s teeth sank in. Holding your breath, you see the guilt in Jeongguk’s eyes as his lips become ajar as if he wishes that it could have been him instead. You aren’t sure how to read what he is thinking, especially when he runs the tip of his thumb over the area. But, in the heat of the moment, his other hand slides to the back of your neck where he slightly grips the strands of your hair stimulating you to bite your lip. He tilts your head just enough to cover the spot with his own mouth, sucking harshly on the skin to place his mark. To regain his status. You’ve never seen something so hot, it’s sending immense tingles all through out your frame. He then sprinkles kisses across your chest eventually trailing to your breasts where his tongue flicks over your nipples and the top of his head tickles your chin. Your whimpers increase while he sucks each nipple tenderly, your fingers indenting his back, and the way your vaginal walls leak onto your vulva- you cannot wait for more of this man. Your eyes sweep his figure. His tattoos covering the entirety of his arm.

Goodness, his body is ethereal, and from the way he takes in the view of you bare, you can tell he feels the exact same about you. Your lips tingle for his. Dragging him to you, he crashes his lips to yours, a new addiction you both know will be hard to break. The way his body presses to yours so passionately, it’s as if you have waited your whole life to feel this good. You can still feel the way his lips bruised you on your shoulder, and you adore the way it lingers.

“My turn!” His fingers deliciously dig into your hips, he slides you closer to him despite the limited room on the sofa, and his eyes absorb how sopping wet you are for him even still. He traces his hands to your thighs when you feel your heat clenching fervently for the desire that is taking over your system. Jeongguk wastes no time swiping a finger, sucking your leakage before his tongue starts lapping up every bit of your taste. What really catches you by surprise is how he continues the fast movements, flattening and pointing his tongue seeing which gesture makes you scream for him more. In between, he sucks your clit, taking one hand to reach for the spot above your clit where he massages nice and slow simultaneously while he feasts. “Oh, Guk,” you sigh with elation. “Oh, Guk, yes! Oh my gosh, yes, holy fuck, ah-”

You hardly can contain yourself with how this man is loving your body. He refuses to stop until you feel the powerful jolt of an orgasm, gratifyingly overwhelming your brain as your thighs squeeze together. Jeongguk already pulled away with pure ecstasy of watching you come undone for him. You are so dizzy; you can’t help the way your feet sink into the couch trying to overcome the sensitivity. When you try to shift, to sit up, Jeongguk hovers close to where he whispers, the smell of you reaching your nose.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he says against your lips, kissing you quickly before carefully lifting his body off you. His hands slide along your arms as he tenderly guides you. Before you can question, he interrupts by kissing you again. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got a couple things I want to set up.” As much as you hate to admit it, your heat drips at the way he whispers this to you intensifying the elation. How many times does he plan to make you cum?

The anticipation as to what he’s about to do. What he’s about to show you. Your ears tune into the sounds of the refrigerator opening- his giddy footsteps jogging to the bedroom where you hear the start of running water. Not just a spritz from the shower… the jacuzzi. Holy fuck. When you thought of steamy sex, you never once thought about the jacuzzi. Your hands squeeze into your thighs, the sensitivity between your legs starting to dim. Your heat clenching around nothing as you feel your nipples bud against the chilled air now that his warm body hasn’t been wrapped around yours for a bit. You never really ventured with sex when you were with Hoseok. It was just the typical quickies before and after work depending on the mood with the occasional use of a vibrator. And with Namjoon, it was a drunken blur. With Jimin… It was just spicy vanilla with addictive kisses, but good enough to get the job done and not hesitate for a second round if there ever was to be a second round.

But with Jeongguk. He’s about to give you a night you hope to relive every moment you see him. When he steps into the living room after a few minutes, you had been biting your lip unintentionally, and you feel him kneeling when his tepid hands place on your knees to then gliding up your exposed thighs. He loves teasing you with his lips, talking against them to keep you on your toes. “I’m ready.” He whispers enticingly. You peel your eyes open, him holding your hands while he helps you stand.

When you enter behind him to his bedroom, you notice a golden bowl filled with ice cubes and bubbles from the jacuzzi mingled with steam is shown from where the bathroom door is open. “I didn’t know to buy rose petals and candles-”

“Oh, fuck that!” You gasp, grabbing his face to kiss him again and again. The excitement is so tremendous, his strong arms adhere you to his frame before he peppers kisses along your neck, sucking the skin before placing your back on his bed. Lifting your hands in surrender, he can have you however he wants. However, he needs you. His eyes trail to the ice cubes where he places one in his mouth taking a few long sucks. When you imagined ice play, you never thought you would actually get to experience it.

He then takes the ice and places it on your chest, the cold nips your skin in a pleasurable way and when he slides the cube onto one nipple then to the other, your shaky breaths echo within his bedroom. He then lets the cube glide downwards once your nipples stay budded till he pauses at the beginning of your vulva. “Do you want me, baby?”

“Yes!” You’re breathless, toes curling against the bed sheets, the cold of the frozen water bringing a subtle pain. “Yes, baby, please. I want you.” He lets the ice touch along your slit, causing your hips to rise involuntarily while he rubs it quickly, coating your heat with the chill. Just enough to absorb your taste. As you watch him intensely, he returns the cube to his mouth sucking more until he places it back into the bowl.

Without preparation, his hands, few fingertips cold, wrap around your thighs, shifting you to his starving mouth as he breathes in your scent. “You smell so good, baby.” He growls, his hair tickling your skin before his tongue starts to flick between your folds once more, the chill feel sending vibrations of desire up and down your body while you moan his name even higher than his previous feast. “Oh, Guk! Oh, baby! Holy fuck, you feel so good! Ah!” Your screams encourage him to flick faster, up and down his tongue presses, lapping up your juices while your hands dig into the comforter. Eyes rolling back, one by one, each of his hands reach to rub your nipples, rubbing so fondly while he licks you, making your arousal build even stronger, so intense, you can hardly breathe. His head makes swift movements while he continues to taste you furiously, not taking one moment to breathe himself. You feel another orgasm building, and before you can stop him, your hips buck to the amplifying sensation as the glint of you shines on his chin. He arches an eyebrow proudly as you melt against the comforter- completely and utterly gasping.

But he’s not done with you yet and you don’t want him to be.

He crawls onto the bed to hover above you, interlacing his fingers with yours that happen to untangle from squeezing the comforter. Still holding your hands, he then moves backwards, helping you up to lead you to the bathroom where he shuts the door behind him. Wherever he goes, you will follow. And so far, you are not regretting one bit.

The steam is still rising from the jacuzzi and when he pins you to the tub, he leans over you to press a button, the jets in the jacuzzi awaken and the entire bath is bubbling for you to enjoy. You smell yourself on his mouth, and when he kisses you again, this time it’s so loving. It’s soft. So mesmerizing, you can’t concentrate on anything else as his hands cup your breasts, rubbing your nipples so affectionately that your heat gushes below you as you moan helplessly against his mouth.

“Get in.” He demands and this newfound dominance is going to make you pounce. You tilt your head when you meet his knowing eyes.

“You first, Cigs.” His nose scrunching into the sweetest smile, you dizzyingly watch him step into the jacuzzi, letting the water engulf his frame before you find yourself joining, putting a leg on either side of his hips while you straddle him. His hands massage up and down your back slowly to gripping your ass. How much more stunning can this man be? When he said he was going to make you forget about the past, he wasn’t fucking kidding. And you are very much okay with that.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers suddenly and your heart swells at his words. Not only did he mean it, but you can feel how much he means it. It doesn’t take long for you to bring your lips to his after holding his gaze, eventually moving a hand to find his erection, posing above his length before he enters you causing you to gasp against his kiss before your body starts to move to the rhythm of his hips as he thrusts into you. The water splashes amidst your moans, him hitting your g-spot with every stroke.

Lips still locked to yours, Jeongguk wraps his arms around you before lifting you enough to lay your back against the other end of the jacuzzi. Water covers your body while the jets massage your skin as Jeongguk lingers above you, entering you once more, your arms hug behind his shoulders while he thrusts. His body molds so perfectly with yours, and you never felt so alive. His large hand moves to cradle the back of your head, kissing you so deeply that your head is spinning. You never want this to end. How he moves so beautifully within you. It’s enthralling. He is enthralling.

When he releases into you, the water washes him away, and he sighs into your neck while you two try to catch a breath.

“By the way, it’s Dory.”

Confusion hits you at his sudden, breathless remark. “What?”

“You called me Nemo. It’s supposed to be Dory. She has short term memory loss.”

Shoving him playfully, you splash water at him while giggles echo, him tackling you just to place kisses to your blushing face. You can’t imagine ever losing him at this point. For once, you feel promise even though a promise has never been made.

“You’re smiling.” Monnie says suspiciously as you dazingly exit your room.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It certainly is not. It’s about time you appreciate your life here.”

“I do appreciate it here.”

“Finally… Is it the blonde guy?”

Your eyes widen because you completely forgot that your sister has no idea about Jeongguk. “No!” You say quickly. “No, it’s not him.”

“Okay,” Monnie says slowly, placing her hands on her hips. “Well, something is making you act like a teenager, so spill it.”

“I will at some point just… Just not right now.”

Monnie groans in annoyance. “I don’t know what I have to do to get you to talk to me, but at some point, I need to know your life story.”

“But you do know most of it. We’re sisters, Genius.”

“The boring stuff. I want to hear the dirt. I’m nosy.”

“You wouldn’t be my sister if you weren’t.” You tease. “I will tell you everything when I am ready. It’s… a lot… Okay?”

Reluctantly, her arms loosen in defeat as she rolls her eyes, “Fine,” she drones.

To be honest, you hope to confide in LenLen as well. It’s about time you open to the people who you do trust very much. For the time being though, it’s been a few days since you last saw Jeongguk and he has been messaging you nonstop since then. You felt so bruised down there, especially when you both had intercourse the next morning before you left to go to work. Both were naked and finished brushing teeth, and you wrapped your arms around him from behind. Your breasts smooshed to his back. He couldn’t resist you after that. He lifted you up to where your legs linked around his body. The sex started rough once you reached his bed sheets but ended gently driving your mind wild. His touch is like lightning and he nearly cummed back-to-back when he saw a wet spot under you from where you released post orgasm.

You do plan to see him again, and despite the endless thoughts of him, you figure a nice walk around downtown is a good plan. Downtown is super close to the city but has a smaller string of stores. It’s a different scenery, something to keep your mind from cluttering. It’s been a few months. You don’t go as often because that’s where Hoseok would take you on special dates. You figure with his popularity rising from his newly released book, he may not be downtown as often, so you feel it’s safe to tread.

Goodness though, the way Jeongguk’s touch has encapsulated you into another dimension, you can’t stop thinking about him. Or his lips. Or his smile. Or his laugh. Or his tattoos, how beautifully they decorate his skin. The way he holds you… He’s a dream you hope to always have. Hands cuddled into your jacket pockets, the sun shining brightly in the sky, twenty minutes into entering downtown where cars slowly drive by and the ‘open’ signs flash on every window, you decide to enter one of the familiar shops you happened to pass. Life gets even stranger because when you enter what looks to be a beauty boutique, from the colors and setting you recognize it as one you and Hoseok used to frequent way back when.

“She had me come double check inventory. Just make sure we get more of the eye shadow palettes in. At least, that’s what she requested me to say.” Eyebrows scrunching, you have heard this voice before. It’s oddly quiet other than a radio playing, and your eyes trail to an employee nodding and scribbling down whatever was said. Your heart nearly stops when you see none other than Jimin talking to the employee after shifting through what looks to be a pile of mail. You debate running out of the store, but you never got Jimin’s number, and so you make it clear you really didn’t use him even though you kinda did accidentally on purpose, you make the haste decision to let him notice you. He hasn’t done anything wrong.

He spins around after checking over a few things and looks up at you when you clear your throat. The moment his eyes register who he is seeing, his face lights up. “Oh my gosh! Hey there!” Jimin out stretches his arms, pulling you into such a sweet embrace when he reaches you, and you can’t help but let the relief loosen your tense frame. You melt into him.

“Hey,” you whisper.

“How are you?” He pulls away slightly to read your eyes.

“I’m good… I’m sorry I never thought to get your number.”

“No! No, don’t apologize. I should be sorry. I don’t want you to think I’m that kinda guy.”

“Oh God, no.” You chuckle. “You are just fine.”

Jimin presses his lips together in concentration, his thumb rubbing your shoulder. “My sister had me check up on her store which is why I’m here.” He motions to his surroundings. “With the stress of inventory, I could use a drink. Wanna join?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” You say.

When the strong liquid welcomes your tongue soothing your limbs once you swallow, Jimin eyes you as you twirl the liquid in the glass. The restaurant is nice and dimly lit and you are very thankful that you ran into him when you did. It makes you feel better about what happened between you two.

“I didn’t know you had a sister.” You say after a minute. Not that you ever cared to ask. “I didn’t know she owned a store.”

Jimin smiles, shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah, she’s a pain in my ass but I love her.”

“I relate on so many levels.” You chuckle, knowing Monnie would give you a look that could kill with an arched eyebrow in tow.

“Is… everything okay between us?” Jimin is curiously watching you, his expression still concerned about everything. At this point, you both have swapped numbers, promising to keep in touch. With how much your heart pines for Jeongguk, you know you won’t give in to anyone else.

“Of course, it is.” You promise. “I really mean it when I say I enjoyed your company. I just have a lot going on.”

“I understand.” He says meaningfully. “Want to talk about it?”

Considering your answer, you swallow briefly. “My ex… of three years cheated on me. Moved here a year ago.” You continue explaining how you ended up with your sister and how you were heartbroken about being stood up at the bar and how you ran into your ex and his best friend at the bar as well. All in one night. Adding that you are glad Jimin was equally attracted to you and how the distraction really helped overall.

“Holy shit, you slept with his best friend!? You are bad ass!”

“Oh God, I’m far from it.”

“Dude, no, that’s the best way to get back at a cheater. I’m telling you. Oh, and um,” Jimin leans closer to you with a confident look, his thick lips poised in a mischievous grin, “I don’t mind you using me for whatever you want. I’m honored I got to be your first after a year of abstinence.”

You giggle, smacking his shoulder playfully. “To be honest, I’m glad it was you too. You are so sweet. I mean it. If anything, I hope we can be friends.” You reach to squeeze his hand, him running his thumb across your knuckles.

“Agreed.”

“How long ago did you and your sister move here?” You wonder aloud. “I remember you said you had been here for a long while.”

“About two years, but I am roommates with Taehyung for now. He’s pretty head over heels for his girlfriend so I’ll probably be living on my own soon.”

“That’s not bad at all,” you encourage.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure I’ll love the space, but it gets lonely sometimes… My sister lives with her current boyfriend. I’m not the biggest fan, but he’s a successful novelist. Came out with a book literally like last week.”

Your eyebrows scrunch. What? “He’s… an author?”

“Yeah… I mean he’s a good writer don’t get me wrong, but her last boyfriend… She was with him forever and she did him so dirty. I felt bad for the kid.”

“Wait a minute…” Your head is spinning. This can’t be real. Calm down, y/n, it’s all just a coincidence. You are freaking out over nothing. “Wh-who was her ex-boyfriend if you don’t mind me asking?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but his phone, that has been laying right side up on the table starts to vibrate, a picture of a smiling woman shows. “Oh, that’s my sister.” He says, “Probably calling to make sure I took care of inventory. I should take this.”

“I- I have to go anyway,” you pretend to check your wrist when really stars are showing in your eyes, because that picture. Your mouth goes immediately dry. The shirt. The way her breasts are rounded beneath that shirt. Hoseok’s shirt. The shirt that went missing. The girl in the picture… she was wearing it. She was fucking wearing it.

“Hey, Min-a.” Jimin greets into the phone, waving goodbye to you, mouthing that he will text you as you dart away. Bile rises to your esophagus burning in its wake as you rush outside to the nearest trash can. Holy shit. You can’t breathe and you gasp between heaves. Everything is crashing down as you make the connection. It’s all coming together.

You never saw her face, but you saw her torso decorated with nice breasts and Hoseok’s shirt. Jeongguk mentioned that he was cheated on too and that she was with her new boyfriend who was going over a script with an actor… His stepbrother who is none other than Kim Seokjin. Hoseok has been writing for an actor who happens to be Kim Seokjin. Jimin personally knows Kim Seokjin. Hoseok is now out with a novel. She, Jimin’s sister, owns a store downtown, a store that happens to be one that you and Hoseok used to frequent because you loved their products, but when you left him, you never went back to that specific store. Meaning… he met her there. While you two were still together. But most of all, you remember how tense Jeongguk got at the mention of Jimin… Because Jeongguk knows Jimin. And then there was the confrontation Jeongguk almost had with the guy his ex-girlfriend cheated on him with who you can’t seem to comprehend it to be:

Hoseok.

This can’t be real. No, no this can’t be fucking real. You plead to the universe, wiping your lips with your sleeve as you try to keep the next bout of nausea suppressed.

Jeongguk dated Jimin’s sister who is now with Hoseok. The girl who he cheated on you with. You heard Jimin say her name. You can hardly collect your thoughts to think her name.

Min-a.

When the nausea starts to dull just for you to regain your composure. You run. You run home and you don’t stop until you burst through the door. Monnie and Yoongi are frantic when they see you, collapsing to the floor to catch your breath while tears stream down your face, sobbing as the pain shoots through your heart. Now, you have your answer. Nobody had to tell you. You accidentally stumbled upon it yourself. At this point, seeing the devastation pouring down your face, Monnie doesn’t give you a choice, she demands the truth. As Kenai rushes to sway his furry body against your legs to calm you, you confess and tell your sister and her boyfriend everything. From beginning to end- everything.

Finally, you let every emotion out, every secret released.

“So, you are saying that not only did you sleep with your ex’s best friend, Namjoon. You also hooked up with your ex’s new girl’s brother and her ex-boyfriend, too!?” Monnie connecting the dots while Yoongi’s mouth drops open in alarm. “Holy cannoli, if this isn’t the best revenge story ever!”

“I wasn’t looking for revenge!” You spew.

“Not with Jimin and Jeongguk you weren’t, but you have to admit, Namjoon was definitely revenge.”

“Well Namjoon, yes.” You agree with swollen eyes. “But the rest? I had absolutely no idea they were connected.” Your palm is plastered to your forehead, and though Jeongguk has messaged you and called twice, you’ve ignored everything. You don’t know how to approach the subject. Is his ex, Min-a, who is Hoseok’s girlfriend that he left you for, is she the reason Jeongguk kept walking away from you? Why he struggled at first giving into you? Have her and Hoseok been having problems? “No wonder why Hoseok was so… shocked.” You murmur. “I thought it was because I was kissing another guy in general, but it was his girlfriend’s brother.”

“Wowza.” Yoongi shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t comprehend it. What a small world.”

“Now it all makes sense. They all know each other.” You speak. “That’s why they’re all connected. Holy shit.”

“I definitely know Kim Seokjin. Not personally, but we’ve seen a few of his movies.” Yoongi says crossing his arms, gesturing his elbow in Monnie’s direction.

“Oh yeah, how can we not know Kim Seok-” Monnie notices Yoongi eyeballing her playfully with a quirked eyebrow and she clears her throat. “I agree. They all know each other. Jimin and Taehyung are best friends who know Kim Seokjin because he is best friends with Taehyung. Kim Seokjin also knows Jeongguk because they happen to be stepbrothers and Kim Seokjin knows Hoseok because of the movie script and novel Hoseok wrote. Also,” Monnie takes in a deep, dramatic breath. “Hoseok knows Jeongguk because Hoseok stole his girlfriend at the time, and Jeongguk knows Jimin because he dated Jimin’s sister. Am I forgetting anyone?”

“My head hurts.” You groan.

“Ah, Namjoon! He is best friends with Hoseok and since he was in the same vicinity as everyone I have mentioned, he must know everyone. I’m sure he is familiar with Jeongguk because Hoseok probably told him.”

“You’re good at this.” You blurt. “Maybe you should be a writer.”

“I’ve dabbled a time or two.” She grins, holding a finger in the air. “And that concludes your shit show of a love life.”

“Thanks.” You roll your eyes. Yet, you couldn’t concur more.

When conversation finishes with your sister and her boyfriend, you feed Kenai and give him squishy hugs and kisses while he pelts his tail at you in annoyance. You don’t care how much he prefers his food over you sometimes, you want to give him kissies and he shall accept them. There is somewhere you want to be. Need to be. You just hope he will be there.

Ordering a driver after freshening up and putting on a light amount of makeup, you throw on some tennis shoes and make your way outside. Previously you were always uncertain of the destination you were going to go. But this time, you know exactly where you are going. He will always be who you run to. Jeongguk. You haven’t stopped thinking about him since the day you met him. It has all gone by so fast, yet there is plenty of time to become more than just a thought every other second. But, neither of you can proceed until the truth is told.

The drive feels tantalizingly slow as your leg bounces profusely in the backseat until you arrive at the bookstore. You swish some mouth wash from the mini bottle in your purse as you rush to the elevator after tipping the driver, spitting it into a bush before elbowing the elevator button. Your temples beat to your increasing heart rate. Swallowing the lump forming in your throat, you recount everything. It’s time to lay it all out. No matter how risky.

Customers standing by on the third floor watch you zip past, and you try to follow your memory to Jeongguk’s door and when your feet stop before it, you inhale and exhale deeply to calm your nerves. You knock, letting your hope rise because you cannot wait to see him despite the words that haven’t been said. You hear running footsteps- and when the door opens, your breath hitches at his indescribable beauty. You see the way relief falls with his shoulders as he springs forward to hug you- pulling you into his home while the door automatically shuts behind you.

You take the time to hold him, bundling your nose into his warm chest while his hand moves to soothe into your hair. “Hey,” he whispers, placing a kiss to the top of your head. “Where have you been? I’ve been super worried.”

“I know,” you murmur, squeezing him tighter. “I know. I’m sorry… Something happened.” You hear the rustle of paws running around the living room and you can’t help but smile at the reminder of the cats. Instantly your smile falls, however, because you know a serious conversation is going to take place. Shifting to step back, so you can see the entirety of his face, he tries to read your expression. He can tell something is wrong.

“I know how you know Jimin.” You can’t help it when tears brim, especially when you see Jeongguk’s body tense. As if he is trying to protect himself from unwanted memories. From heartbreak. He remains silent. “Min-a.” Your voice is hoarse when you say her name. Jeongguk’s hands move to slide into his hair while he sucks in his lips, squeezing his eyes shut the second he registers who you just named. There’s pain in his demeanor. Pain, you know all too well. “She’s who my ex-boyfriend left me for… Hoseok.”

Disbelief, the common reaction, is all over his expression while his lips part as if to speak, but he doesn’t. “Hoseok’s not an actor…” You murmur. “He’s a writer… He knows your stepbrother because he wrote a story he wants filmed with Seokjin as the lead.” You wet your lips. “I met Jimin the day I met you. And yes… I hooked up with him the night the bar opened, but I was so emotionally distraught, I needed something. Anything to distract me because I saw Hoseok there. And his best friend. And… I was devastated that you didn’t show up.” Your fingers touch to your lips as you try to keep your composure. “I had no idea who she was until today.” You admit. “Absolutely no idea.”

“I-” Jeongguk struggles to find the words, but he steps closer to you. “I think it will take time for the shock to settle, but…” He swallows. “I never meant to hurt you that night I didn’t show up.” You feel your tears panging hot trails onto your cheeks, Jeongguk moving to cup your face to swipe the tears away with his thumbs. “I was still battling with whether I should start over with Min-a. She kept trying to reach out to see me again, and I fell for it a few times, but the second I met you.” His forehead touches to yours while you take in his warmth. “The second I met you, there was no one else I could think about. Not even her. In a fucked-up sense, I wanted closure, too. I thought…” He pauses, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes. “I thought if I gave her a chance to explain, maybe that would be enough for me to move on, but… she never showed up each time she reached out. I knew I made a huge mistake what I did to you and when you were all I continued to think about I knew… I knew it was you I ultimately wanted to be with. I’m so sorry I broke your trust. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“No-!” You croak. “No, it’s okay. It’s really okay.” You plea through the tears. His eyes well with them too while you both try to get through this pain. Together. “You were hurting, too. We were hurt by the same people. It’s all so unbelievable, I can hardly understand it.”

“Well, if I haven’t learned anything at all, it’s that karma’s a bitch.” Jeongguk forces a chuckle, brushing a slow, warm kiss to your lips. “I won’t let him hurt you anymore.” You feel the tenderness in his caress. His promise. This time clothes make a trail on the floor to his bedroom where your bodies cling together while love is made through the night. In the end, you hope he is the man that will mend your heart the way you hope to mend his.

No more goodbyes, Cigs.

No more goodbyes.

And that will be your promise.

Seven months later…

“Breathe, y/n.” Jeon Jeongguk reminds you as you take in a prolonged, shaky breath. The buzzing of the needle starts to reach your skin while his gloved hands gently touch your limb. “I promise you it’s not that bad. Do you see my arm?”

“I know, Babe. But I have never done this before. Cut me some slack here.” You whine. Closing your eyes, a prick of pain starts to tingle against your skin from the sharp darts of pinches leaving traces of black ink in its wake.

“Good.” Jeongguk encourages. “See, I told you. It’s not that bad-”

He notices you wince when he gets to a different area of your wrist where he is permanently inking your ‘delicate skin’ as you have been referring. You knew you always wanted a tattoo, but it took your forever to figure out what to get. When the idea came to get an ink print of one of Kenai’s paws, you jumped to it. Jeongguk, of course, pretending to be jealous, made it clear that he better be the one who tattoos you. The shop is closed for the day, but Jeongguk being one of the main artists, he’s allowed to do tattoos on his own time, so it is just the two of you in the facility.

You are astonished at how quickly it goes by. The needle stings, but the pain is durable. It definitely is not as bad as you anticipated. It only takes Jeongguk 45 minutes to complete Kenai’s pawprint on the underside of your wrist. “Alright, take a look and tell me what you think and then I’ll apply the wrap.” He sets the needle onto the metal table next to the chair you have been sitting in, and he takes off his gloves.

The skin is red, with small dots of blood as you expected from where the needle etched the ink, but you are blown away by how brilliantly Jeongguk did with your first ever tattoo. “It’s… It’s perfect.” Your voice breaks from the tears brimming. “I love it.” You smile wide.

He chuckles, elated by your response. “I love you.” Preparing the sticky wrap, he carefully places it, afterwards pressing a kiss to your lips. “You did it.” His smile lights up your entire world as he proudly kisses you again.

“Only because of you. I wouldn’t have survived with anybody else.”

“Yes, you would have. It’s not that bad. I told you!” Jeongguk teases, waving his tatted arm in your line of vision while he points at it with his free hand.

“Fine,” you drone. “I would prefer that it be you because it’s more special. Kenai is the love of my life aside from you.” Jeongguk quirks an eyebrow. “What? He loves you, too!”

“Are you sure about that because he’s really gotten Flounder wrapped around his toe bean.”

“He’s got you, too.” You wink.

You moved in with Jeongguk a few weeks ago, adapting to the new life. So far, it’s gone rather well. He may not throw his clothes in the laundry basket, but at least he knows how to make up for it later. Wink wink. You inwardly giggle. Though LenLen was sad to see you leave, not only did Jeongguk get you a job at the bookstore, but you are the store manager which is nice because on breaks, you can just chill at home.

Home being with Jeongguk, Kenai, Flounder and Tetra. The crazy cat couple. Nothing gets better than that.

Jeongguk on the other hand has returned to tattooing. Something he is so talented at that its mind blowing. You are so grateful for how strong of a bond you two have formed since the first day you met. As far as Hoseok, him and Min-a have broken up by the whispers on the street, but you have found a way to forgive him. Especially when he reached out to apologize for how he wronged you and how none of it was your fault. How he should have known Min-a never truly wanted him, and that you are the sole reason his novel became a hit. The day he met you at the park. How you inspired it. You aren’t sure if he knows about Namjoon still, but you are glad he didn’t mention it if he does. You figure he’d tear the book to shreds at that point, but you thanked him for his apology and that you are happy with someone else. Very happy.

Jimin is a friend of you and Jeongguk to this day, but he does not speak about his sister in either presence considering her name is still an open wound. You and Jeongguk are still working on the forgiveness for her, too.

“It’s so amazing.” You awe about your tattoo once more. Jeongguk reaches to hold your other hand. “You’re so talented.”

He shrugs. “It’s a passion… Thank you for trusting me.”

Your lips pull into a gentle smile. “Always and forever.”

Leaning forward, you kiss him again and again and again and again. You love that you can trust that there will not be a goodbye from this glorious human being before you. He will always be your hello the second you wake up, the second you come home and every moment in between. “I love you,” he whispers breathless between kisses and if there weren’t cameras installed for security, you two would be making love right here in this seat.

“I love you too, Cigs.” You whisper against his mouth. “I love you so much.”

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freuleinanna · 5 months

Text

ngl van helsing and mina's relarionship is very very dear to me and does in fact have me in chokehold

we're expecting jack seward to be van helsing's protégé, them being academics and jack having been vh's student. and yet jack is the least flexible in his beliefs. meanwhile mina, despite not having any relevant education, demonstrates all qualities that van helsing seeks and respects!

she's anticipating the need for a record and typewrites her and jonathan's diaries in advance, plus later continues her task to make sure they all have access to the least available bit of information (to which van helsing refers a LOT closer to the end)

she's quick-minded and can surprise the old professor (cue the 'teehee sure read my diaries oops it's in shorthand' scene, after which vh basically goes I AM ADOPTING HER, teary-eyed)

she has a chronical case of understanding him instantly. parallel the scene with jack 'WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ELEPHANTS LIVE LONGER' seward and the scene with mina 'SAY NO MORE I GOT YOU DRACULA IS FLEEING BACK HOME' harker, it's just so funny to me

van helsing constantly saying how he needs jack to have an open mind, yet here's madam mina, self-educated on the horrors in castle dracula, asking van helsing himself to keep an open mind as he reads the diaries!

in van helsing's memorandum he says she obediently does anything he asks. she even gets up to leave the wafer circle, although she can't. like.... she knows that van helsing is testing her, and helps willingly. she feels the changes in herself, and she allows her friend to carry out his research too.

they are SO quick to follow each other's thoughts! mina discovers hypnotism as means to speak freely and calls for van helsing right away. and he gets her without missing a beat

don't even get me started on every time mina saves the situation and van helsing muttering 'wonderful woman!' under his breath. he cares for her so deeply it's insane and heart-warming and bittersweet

and that damn november 4 entry? van helsing being afraid, afraid, afraid! of mina and the changes she undergoes. yet he continues to care about his friend. huge thanks to @re-dracula for bringing each emotion to life in such a vivid manner

in conclusion, mina harker is van helsing's spiritual kin and i am not normal about it

#dracula #dracula daily #re: dracula #abraham van helsing #mina harker #mina murray #jack seward #jonathan harker #dracula thoughts

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mickyschumacher · 10 months

Note

style was so fucking good HOLY SHITTTTT can u please please please do a part 2 xx

𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after separating from carlos, you thought you would never ever have to see him again. but fate is demanding and it demands you bumping into him in a club. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), jealousy (bc where would we be without it), reader is younger than carlos but not like insanely, reader has vagina, angst, ferrari SLANDER, charles moves to redbull oop, GOOGLED SPANISH! I'M SORRY 😭, teasing, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap ur willies peeps!), oral sex, cumming inside, car sex = dangerous car driving, brief handjob, dry(?) humping, confession time AHHH, incorrect modelling stuff again lol, nicer!carlos ♡︎

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: complicated ex!carlos sainz x model!fem!reader, bestie!lily he x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6k+ (whoops)

𝐀/𝐍: a lot of people wanted a part 2 so.... here it is! i hope this is up to your par with what you were thinking about ♡︎ has bit of a build up but the smut is there! decently proof read... i think? my eyes are vv tired from these exams :(

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

Three years.

A lot can happen in three years.

For you that meant with some crazy luck becoming the World's top supermodel. Kendall Jenner, Gigi and Bella Hadid, Emily Ratajkowski... whoever the top once was, you had put them all to shame. You were booked and busier than ever. You could've sworn you used to get your beauty sleep but now you were lucky if you could even get an hour let alone eight. The billboards and the magazines loved you and the public, god the public, they cherished you.

Never had the world needed a relatable, kind role model more and there you were. A diamond in the rough, waiting to be seen. You were even on your way of becoming an entrepreneur in sustainable fashion.

Everything was going your way.

It was a surprise for you. After Carlos, you thought you would be moping forever. And you did, at least for a few days. But when your manager and stylist advised you to release your pent up emotions, you thought the best way to do that was fully committing yourself to your work.

No more relationships. No hookups. No races. No Carlos.

And somehow, it worked. You were a single supermodel who won over the public. No races, no Carlos. You were bringing your company money.

But yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop thinking about Carlos. His smugness, the puppy brown eyes, his touch, the little signs that he cared; the softening of the side of his eyes when he looked at you before they were ridden with lust or his need to have some part of him touching you; his hand on your thigh, an arm around your waist, or soft circles rubbed on your inner wrist.

You missed him.

But that was three years ago.

You and Carlos didn't even run in the same circles anymore.

For Carlos, three years meant extending his contract with Ferrari, although God knows why, losing three chances at a championship, fighting with Adami over the radio far more than he liked, and losing Charles to Red Bull. All while feeling very empty. No one really recognised who Carlos was anymore. Not his family, not the drivers, and not the fans. Hell, he himself didn't know who he was.

Whoever Carlos was right now... it was the mere shell of who he used to be.

He was drinking far too much for an F1 driver celebrating other's podiums. And now he got angry. He didn't get angry, he seethed. He let himself feel vexed in order to get motivated. But now he was just angry and torn but not for no reason.

Carlos was an idiot. He had made an irrevocably stupid decision. Separating from you was the worse decision he had ever made. And that said something considering he had extended with the most infuriating F1 team of the past few years.

How could he have even made that decision? Normally, he thought things out. He was an F1 driver, for God's sake. Some sort of thought could be accounted for. But he didn't know what it was... maybe he was too emotional the night he was with you. Whatever it was, he should've thought it out.

God, Carlos should've realised that all he needed to do was put more effort it. You and him... it would've worked. He would've stopped hurting you. He would've been fully committed to you.

But no. He had fuck to it up.

To say Carlos hadn't been stalking your socials everyday was an understatement. Cumming to your name was a pre-race ritual that had now turned into checking what projects you were doing. Not to be dramatic, but to him, it felt like you were just keeping him alive, giving him a reason to live.

Carlos couldn't even muster the courage to call you and ask if you could talk. He didn't deserve that. Like he said, you deserved more. And all these fans and the fame and money... you deserved all of it and more. Staying away from you was the best thing he could do for you.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Carlos had made a terrible, terrible decision to attend the Miami after race party after saying he wouldn't. In fact, he couldn't. Not when he knew for a fact that you were in a club only down the street.

The temptation to see you was strong.

The club lights flared across the dance floor while the heat and humidity of all these dancing bodies clung to his warm skin. Carlos' hands shook silently at his side while Charles and Lando mixed in conversation. Every fibre of his body was telling his feet to stick to this floor. He couldn't see you. He was only going to ruin your night. He bit down on his lip, feeling a familiar ache in his chest.

But his heart... it was a strong heart. And it was telling him to take that five minute walk.

"I'm just going to get some fresh air," Carlos yelled over the music blaring in his ears. Charles and Lando gave the Spaniard a nod before returning to their conversation.

Carlos tried to make his walk to the club as long as possible, veering off to the side, staring far too long into the windows of other stores. But eventually, he stood in front of the thriving club.

You were celebrating having reached 50 Vogue covers, including the Big Four twice. You told your manager you were fine with having dinner at home but the refusal was immediate and came with the claim of you needing a break. So here you were, dressed in the most sparkly, skimpy, backless deep cleavage silver slip dress, dancing your ass off.

When Carlos entered the club, it was hard to miss you. How could he? You were the centre of attention, dancing around in your little dress that was fighting to cling to your body while everyone cheered you on.

He shouldn't of come. He knew it. Because now, he couldn't leave. No matter how much he knew that to leave was the right decision.

You, on the other hand, didn't notice Carlos so easily. You were having the time of your life, swaying your hips side-to-side as the beat coursed through your veins. Your skin was dotted with sweat while a handsome stranger had come up to you, clearly looking to hook up. And while you weren't looking to screw just anyone, you couldn't shy away from the little bit of grinding your body so desperately craved.

The euphoria wasn't as high as you had once felt but it was enough to keep you on your toes. Heat travelled through your stomach while your eyes closed and your head fell back as another man moved behind you. You were in a haze of pleasure that made your pussy ache.

God, maybe you were too desperate for some pleasure. Because why did it feel like Carlos' cologne had engulfed you? Why did the fire burning within you flare up even further all of a sudden?

Your eyes shot open and a gasp fell from your lips when you felt a familiar hand wrap around your waist.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at the man with wide eyes.

"Cariño," Carlos breathed out, hooded eyes peering down at you.

Your throat felt constricted. Your eyes watered with anger and shock.

"No," You said, pulling yourself away from him.

"No, no, no," You repeated while Carlos took a step towards you, hand reaching out to stop freaking you out.

"Y/N... I–" Carlos was cut short as you raced towards your table and picked up your purse and jacket, heading towards the exit doors of the club.

You could hear Carlos jog to catch up with you. Sighing, you put on your jacket, striding as far as you could in those stupidly beautiful heels you had worn. But you seemed to forget that he was an athlete at the end of the day.

"Y/N, please. Don't do this," Carlos begged, an inch away from you.

Your lips sunk into your bottom lip, ears attempting to block out the warm voice you had been craving for the past three years. Your heart was racing against your chest while your mind fell into disarray.

"Y/N," Carlos repeated, grabbing your arm gently.

You sucked in a sharp breath at his touch, feeling the hairs of your body stand straight. You turned and looked up at him with with reddened eyes, making him pause for a second.

"Three years, Carlos, three goddamn years... of nothing," You exasperated with the familiar words falling off your tongue all too easily.

"I know. I'm–"

"'... so sorry, cariño. I don't have any excuses.' Is that what you were going to say, Carlos?" You asked incredulously, arms folded as if they were going to protect you from all this sudden pain.

Carlos winced at your words, staring at you helplessly.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I was doing fine... and you... what the hell were you thinking, Carlos?"

A silence settled between the both of you as the cold night air raced to cool down your flushed cheeks. Carlos breathed deeply. "I-I... I missed you, cariño. That's what I was thinking. That what I have been thinking for the past three years. I miss you all the time."

You stared at Carlos silently, chewing down on your lip nervously. This was what you wanted. You had waited all this time to hear those very words fall from his lips. Yet all you could say was: "So? That doesn't change anything." The lie made you crumble on the inside but you continued to speak. "You said it yourself, Carlos, we aren't good for each other. That I... deserve more."

"And you do!" Carlos spluttered, hands flailing about. "You deserve more than a better man, Y/N. You deserve the fucking universe. But I was wrong! I was wrong to say that we aren't good together. We can be good together. I think you complete me and if you let me even have the chance, I would be the luckiest man ever to be with you."

Carlos' hands were now gently holding your face, thumb gently brushing your heated skin. Your heart was now pounding in your eardrums. Your throat was caught. You felt impossibly warm. Your eyes burned, but no tears came out. "I... I gave you so many chances," You whispered.

Carlos' eyes softened at your broken voice as a sorry expression fell over his face. "I know," He sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't think I can ever forgive myself, cariño. But if I have to spend forever trying to make it up to you, I gladly will."

"Carlos," You sighed, closing your eyes. You were annoyed with yourself. Annoyed at the fact you were leaning into his touch and annoyed at the familiar heartache that always let him get away with what he wanted. "I'm terrified. I don't want to hurt again. I don't want to hurt you either."

Carlos felt his heart clench, jaw taut with irritation. Every fibre of him hated that you even had to say that. But you were right. You always were. He whispered softly, letting his forehead meet yours, "You won't. I promise. I promise to be a better man. Just please give me a chance... give us a chance."

You opened your eyes to see those desperate puppy eyes boring into yours. You brought your hand to the one holding on your face, rubbing it gently. You knew your answer the moment he asked. "Okay," You responded with a small smile.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Initially, it was hard to get as comfortable as you once were with Carlos. You took every step with caution and he could tell by the scrunch of your nose and the chewing of you lip when you pondered for a moment too long. It was eating at him but there was nothing he could do but fufill his promise to you.

Carlos took you out on several dates as opposed to the few he previously taken you on. They weren't grand. No. Instead they were intimate. Dates that showed he was putting effort in. Like the time he decided to have a dinner date at his house where all the food was prepared by him. It was disastrous to say the least but you were also convinced he had gotten his sisters to help him out given that there was burnt food in the trash and it's aroma covered by candles and perfume in the air.

A sunset picnic followed after that. It was one of your favourites. The sun was setting, of course, and the warm breeze brushed past you while you ended up reading one of your favourite childhood books to Carlos. He listened intently as his hands roamed your skin. It wasn't necessarily sensual but it was intimate. Like all he wanted to do was just bathe in your presence. And bathe Carlos did as he began to ask you questions about your childhood and your family.

It bugged him that despite being with you for some time, he knew nothing about you. At least not really. Knowing your body reactions felt superficial in comparison to finding out you had a family pet that you cherished so much, your financial hardships, or that your parents disapproved of your modelling. That really hurt him. You didn't have anyone close to you. And he had just left you.

Carlos mentioned to you how much of a polla he truly was, apologising for all you had gone through. And while you laughed at his comment, you thanked him, hesitantly pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

Carlos gazed at you as his heart throbbed at your action. He stared at you with a twinkle in his eyes. There was something about this moment... he wasn't quite sure whether it was the setting sun that made you glow or that breeze that made your hair gently fly while your perfume consumed him, but it made him nervous and happy.

Carlos smiled at your raised brows. "You're just so beautiful, cariño."

You sucked in a sharp breath. That look in his eyes... it was the same one you gave him when you were just mesmerised by his beauty. And now he looked at you the same way.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Three months had passed and you had finally stepped into the paddock after what had felt like forever. Everyone was psyched that you were back here. Fans were screaming your name and the drivers had finally seen the reason behind the sudden change in Carlos.

"So... you and Y/N?" Lando queried carefully, watching you talk to Lily and Alex about all the things the both of you had missed.

Carlos peered over to you, catching your passing eyes. His heart skipped a beat at your little wave and smiling eyes. He grinned at you and waved back.

Lando watched the exchange with curious eyes, pulling a feigned pained expression. "Yeah... you and Y/N."

Carlos rolled his eyes at the man who had become one of his closest friends. "Yes, Lando, we're together. We've... we've been taking it slow. So I don't fuck it up."

Lando smiled at Carlos' words. He slapped his hand on the Spaniard's shoulder. "Good," He chirped, before dropping his smile. "You better not. That's basically my best friend right there. You hurt her, you better keep an eye out for Lily and I, and Alex by association."

Carlos chuckled. "Imagine if Fewtrell heard that."

"What Max doesn't know won't hurt him," Lando shrugged.

Carlos smiled in amusement, finding you walking towards him with the previously mentioned couple. "What are you two trying to get my lovely lady to do?" He asked with narrowed eyes when you appeared with a suspiciously wide smile. A beautiful smile, but suspicious nonetheless.

You flushed at his words, taking in a deep breath. "I may have been convinced to do a bit of... ugh, golf."

Golf. Your most dreaded sport. From the moment you knew what it was, you could not think of a more boring sport to save your life. No offence to Lily, but it was an old man's sport. And every F1 driver playing it did not help. But Lily being the amazing girl she was had changed your mind.

Lando cheered and Carlos' eyes widened slightly. "How did you manage to convince her? Even I couldn't get her to join me. Me out of all people."

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics. "I think your win from me golfing is a little different from Lily's. Lily wants me to learn."

"Yeah? And what do I want that is so different?" Carlos asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to me.

You stood on your toes a bit, reaching his ear. "Quieres verme con esa diminuta ropa de golf," You whispered in Spanish, pulling away from his ear. "Esa es la diferencia." You want to see me in those teeny little golf clothes. That's the difference.

You felt a familiar tingle creep up your spine as you met Carlos' darkened eyes and tightened grip on your waist. His tongue darted out, swiping his bottom lip while he eyed you carefully. You were a vixen. A final smug smile rested on his face. "You're right, cariño. That's exactly what I want."

Lily looked at you two blankly. "Anyone catch that?" She asked Alex and Lando, who both shook their heads. She sighed, "Leave it to us to not know one of the most popular languages in the world. See you tomorrow, lovebirds. Try keep your hands off each other, there's kids."

Lando gaped at Lily's side glance towards him. "Well I never!"

Carlos grinned at Lando's words, keeping an eye on you. "I'll try."

You drew a sharp breath. What kind of mess had you exactly set up for yourself?

━━━━━━━━━━━

To be honest, Carlos wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting when you had told him that your manager had sorted out a golf outfit since it was not like you were playing an official tournament. But when you arrived to meet Carlos, Lando, Lily, and Alex at the golf course, Carlos let out the most strained sigh he had ever released.

You were a model, sorry, a supermodel, you looked good in everything already. But you dressed up for his favourite pass time was killing him.

You stood in front of him in the sun visor that hid your long hair, wearing the absolute tightest sleeveless polo shirt known to mankind tucked into small little pink skirt that rested at the middle of your thighs.

God, you were leaving very little for Carlos to imagine. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do to you first: 'accidentally' splash that white shirt with water because he just knew by those nipples that you weren't wearing a bra or excuse the both of you to the bathroom where he could bend you over and fuck you senselessly.

Lily let out a low whistle when she saw you. "Y/N, the woman you are..." She clicked her tongue while shaking her head.

You laughed lightly as Alex look at her incredulously. "I'm right here, you know."

"Alex, are you a woman named Y/N?" Lily asked genuinely.

"I– no," Alex stuttered with furrowed brows while Lando grinned.

"That’s what I thought!" Lilly gave a smug smile, pressing a kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek before linking her arm with yours.

Alex stood with Carlos, blinking blankly at your retreating figures. “I don’t get it,” Alex told the Spaniard.

Lando chuckled while Carlos placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “You don’t need to. It’s Y/N. Now come on. From what I know, you have a lot to learn from Lily.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Carlos was already bracing himself for whatever antics you were going to put up. He was expecting your full on ass up against him, teasing him to the point where he did end up taking you in the bathroom.

But you had decided to go the hard way.

When Carlos was teaching you how to hit the ball and what angle to use the golf club, he severely used the opportunity to put his hands on your hips. He thought you were going to fall back into his chest and press up on him. But instead you decided to listen to his instructions all so intently.

Then he saw it.

Your tongue darting out past those perfect lips of yours, wetting all those crevices with a natural sheen before you sunk your teeth to concentrate on hitting the ball.

And after he had seen it, Carlos couldn’t see anything else normally. Or he would argue that you wouldn’t let him.

No way was the slip of the golf ball accidental. Not when he watched you slowly bend down to get it, revealing your delicious cleavage in the so very unfortunate cut of your polo. Not when he watched your pink skirt cling to your thighs tightly as your lips jutted out to blow away the dirt from the ball.

It was a golf ball, for God’s sake. Of course it was going to have dirt on it.

And as you stood up, you turned so your ass faced him, skirt hugging your ass tight enough so he could see a sliver of your bare pussy.

Carlos could swear that he had never clutched a golf club as hard as he had in his life.

To make matters worse, all you did was strut away with a smirk while you shamelessly checked him out all throughout the games, leaving him with a semi-hard he tried his best to hide behind the thin handle of the club.

You were torturing him without even touching him. And he hated it.

Carlos couldn’t even excuse himself nor you to the bathroom after you purposefully decide to cling to Lily, who was suggesting different methods to play.

The dreadful day had finally come to an end as everyone began to feel the kick of playing golf for so long. You and Carlos bid goodbye to Lily, Alex, and Lando, after your boyfriend definitely did not inform you that you were going back home with him instead of your manager.

After packing your things away in Carlos’ red Ferrari, you happily took a seat in the front, letting out a small yawn as you stretched your arms.

Carlos quietly eyed you as he reversed out of the parking lot. “Tired?” He asked.

You nodded with slightly heavy eyelids. “It takes a lot of energy.”

“I agree,” Carlos nodded. “Teasing takes a lot of energy, hmm?”

Your eyes were fully awake now. You peered at the side of Carlos’ face. His jaw was taut and hands tightly gripped the wheel. You tried to hide your teetering smile but it was difficult. You just loved riling up Carlos. Especially sexually.

“A lot,” You agreed, also nodding before you moved your eyes out your window to prevent you from fully grinning.

Carlos internally sighed. You were a menace.

As he drove to his hotel, an idea popped into Carlos’ head. He knew the way to hotel and golf course like the back of his hand. He also knew that in two left turns, there was the most sketchy but quiet road in town.

Carlos pushed down the indicator, watching the left arrow blink rapidly at him while he turned the wheel. He could see your head turn to him in curiosity.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

Carlos smiled softly, shaking his head as if it was nothing while taking the last left turn.

You raised a brow. You feigned a gasp. “Is this where you kill me? Is this how I die? On some road in Miami?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Yes. How did you know?” He deadpanned.

Carlos parked the car in between some trees, ensuring that all the windows were fairly covered because no matter what, at the end of the day, he cared for both for your images.

Carlos turned to find your eyes already on him, waiting for an explanation. “You know the last time we met in Miami?”

You blinked blankly at him. “How could I forget?” You retorted sarcastically, covering up any last few traces of pain associated with that trip.

Carlos pursed his lips, smiling apologetically. He took your hands into his, rubbing them gently. “Well, when we were in the car, I had this vision—well I always have this vision but it was strong then, anyways—I had this vision of fucking you in this car, on the highway, ass on the wheel, making a mess on me, and making you cum so hard that you cover that Ferrari logo.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes dilated in pleasure. Suddenly you felt tingly all over your body and a strong heat pulsating in between your thighs. You pressed your thighs together at the thought.

“So I thought,” Carlos confused, smirking at your action, “although you’ve been a tease, I would still like to fuck the life out of you, cariño. Isn’t that so nice of me?” He asked as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You wish you had the urge to roll your eyes. You really wish you did. But your breath was caught in your throat and you just felt a dribble of arousal leak past your aching core.

Instead you moved over to Carlos, putting a leg on either side of him and brought your lips to his.

Carlos immediately responded, hands flying towards your hips, gripping on your skin while he intensely kissed you back. He kissed you not just as a starved man, but a parched man. As if your lips were water and all he could do was drink you.

Your stomach churned with a familiar fire of pleasure. Your skin raised with goosebumps as Carlos’ thumbs circled your skin through the fairly thin fabric of your polo. A muffled moan was lodged in your throat the sound of Carlos’ grunts.

Carlos’ hands moved from your hips to the hem of your skirt. His hands dipped under the pink material that had been enticing him all day, feeling the ample flesh of your bare ass. An audible moan came from his throat as you had moved your lips to his neck to stop drinking those beautiful sounds.

“You’re such a tease, you know that? No fucking underwear so I could see those juicy lips of yours? Were you just waiting for me to take you from behind? What if Lando saw? Hmm?” Carlos queried, groping your ass while his fiery puppy browns pierced into your eyes.

You let out a small whine against his heated neck, bucking your hips against his cock.

“You like that, cariño? The idea of getting caught?” Carlos asked even though he clearly knew the answer if he looked down at the dark stain beginning to form on the front of your skirt.

Carlos smiled softly at your impatient eyes, pressed your hips onto his groin. “Grind on me, cariño. Make a mess on me,” He whispered, taking your lips with his once again.

You moaned as you rocked your hips back and forth in his bulge. The wave of arousal you craved slowly creeped up on you. The hard textured material of his shirt felt like a sin against your pussy. Carlos’ hands helping you keep your pace and making sure you felt every part of hard-on set you on fire.

Smoothly, Carlos used one of his hands to sneak up your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers leaving you in a blaze as he grazed your skin. “That’s it, cariño, that’s it,” He murmured against your lips. His fingers confused past the apex of your thigh, nearing your burning core.

Fuck, were you turned on. The heat radiating off your pussy was dangerous. His thumb edged towards your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves ever so slowly.

“Shit,” you swore, arching your back against the steering wheel. Your pussy ground up against his fingers while trying to press further on his cock; entertaining both levels of pleasure.

Carlos felt his cock tighten painfully against his hands when he moved his eyes from you and down to where your pussy met him. God, you had made a mess. His eyes flickered back up, watching you obscenely cover the Prancing Horse. “Merde,” He cussed.

This was how he wanted you. Fuck. Making a claim on everything that belonged to him with your body. Just the way he wanted.

You could feel Carlos dip his head forward, giving a long lick to your right nipple. You were sure your white polo was now see through, letting your pebbled mounds become available for Carlos’ disposal. You moaned, feeling your pussy become sticky with pleasure as Carlos pulled down the cut of your polo, freeing your breasts from those teasing confines, watching them bounce in admiration before he wrapped his lips around your nipple.

You arched your back even further, pushing your breast into his mouth while the other hand resting on your hip moved to fondle your lonely nipple, leaving you to do the rest of the work. "Carlos," You cried out breathlessly, speeding the pace of your hips as a familiar coil began to unwind at the pit of your stomach.

Carlos knew that tone better than he knew his circuits. Unlatching his swollen lips from your nipple, he looked up at you, making you moan even further. It was hard to disagree that Carlos was a good looking man, but right now, you were seeing him like no other: puffy lips, sweat-ridden tousled brown hair, cheeks freckled with pinks and reds, dark lust-hazed eyes... all for you.

"Don't cum just yet, cariño. I need to be inside you," Carlos panted, his tongue swiping his lips drenched.

You shuddered at the action before looking at him in dismay. "Carlos. Papi, no. Por favor." Please.

Just when Carlos thought his cock couldn't harden any further, you had proven the impossible. He held your chin in his hand, forcing you to hold his gaze. "Don't do that, cariño. Don't papi me. I'm already being so nice, hmm? Be a good girl and listen to be, okay baby?"

You sighed in frustration but you hips eased it's speed, succumbing to Carlos without a second thought.

Carlos pressed a kiss to the side of your head, continuing to rub your clit excruciatingly slow. "That's my girl," He praised, pressing you right against the steering wheel as he lifted his hips up.

Naturally your hands fell to his shorts, eagerly pushing down the pair of clothing as far as you could in this space. Your mouth salivated at the large bulge in his grey boxers. It was like his cock was greeting you; aching to me to you. In awe, you put your hand over his hard cock, softly brushing over the pulsating bulge.

"Fuck," Carlos sighed, eyes closed, feeling like he was on an obscene high already. He felt you gently trace over his thick cock, going even slower when you reached his tip, painstakingly grazing his slit through his boxers. He shot out his hand, holding yours in place.

Carlos swallowed all the saliva that he had gathered after seeing your wide, almost innocent, eyes beaming at him while a sickly sweet smile sprawled across your face. Jesus. How did he ever let you go? Now that he had you, he most certainly couldn't.

You grinned, knowing exactly how to awake the monster within him. You pushed down his boxers, letting him fully settle into the seat of the Ferrari and his cock stand against his toned stomach with a shade that almost made it look like it was angry with you for taking this long.

Gathering all the saliva in your mouth, you let the hot clear fluid slowly fall from your lips and onto his cock. Carlos sighed at the feeling, thumb reaching out to gather the last few drops from your lips before you brought it into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the pad of his thumb, giving him a pre-show before you released him.

Carlos watched as you bent down towards his cock, using your hand to rub your saliva down his throbbing cock. You could feel him pulsing in your hands, dying to be inside you. You lifted yourself back up, signalling Carlos you were ready.

Carlos' hands skated up your skirt, grabbing your bare hips as he guided you over his cock. All this time he had been teasing you as awfully as you had teased him today, so when you felt his cock against your wet folds, you let out a gasp while you hips bucked against involuntarily.

"Jesus fucking Christ," You swore, shuddering at the intoxicating high swarming through your body.

Carlos' cock throbbed against your pussy. He loved your sensitivity, so he pushed himself through your folds again, tip rubbing against your stimulated clit. He grunted against you. He could watch your body defy you over and over again.

But as much as he loved it, Carlos had been waiting to be in you liked a starved man.

Carlos' eyes flittered up to yours while he slowly pushed his cock into you. He memorised you carefully. Every twitch, every quiver. Your parter lips, the frequency of your moan. The contortion of your eyebrows while pleasure laced your eyes. He could remember you like this forever; his beautiful girl.

"Carlos," You panted, "more, please."

"Your wish is my command, princesa," Carlos whispered against your skin, pushing his hips further into you. His hands tightened around your waist, the warm grip of your folds pulling him in like a drug.

You knew it then and you knew it know. Carols had bewitched you. You would never be able to get enough of this feeling. The feeling of his cock jerking into your pussy because he just can't control himself. Nor the feeling of sucking him in like a vice because you want him all to yourself.

Carlos moaned, thrusting his aching cock while he muttered obscenities as if he was under some sort of spell. For what it was worth, he was. Every day, you entranced him. But right now, the sight of you against the Prancing Horse that was waiting to be covered in your cum... your saliva-covered breasts bouncing, your arched back against the wheel... it was driving him crazy. You were driving him crazy.

Your hands travelled to his hair, lips grazing past the bridge of his nose while you groaned. Your fingers wrapped his dishevelled brown waves around them, giving his locks a slight tug that coursed down his body.

Your hips ground against Carlos harshly, attempting to take any extra sliver of euphoria. His cock drove in and out of you at a rate that left no innocence in this car. It was lewd; the slapping of your sticky skin against one another, your breathless pants mingling together, and the fogged windows occurring from your feverish skin. Fuck, the both of you were in overdrive.

You let out a small whimper when you felt your body start to shake. You looked down at Carlos, who was peppering your bare shoulder with long sloppy kisses as he continued to thrust. Your eyes softened and the coil in your stomach began to tighten. "Carlos, I–"

Carlos smiled at the urgency in your voice. He began to pick up his pace, let out a few breathless pants. "Cum for me, mi amor."

You shook your head. "No, fuck, fuck, I–" You closed your eyes at the nearing high but forced them to open again, finding those puppy browns staring you down with confusion and maybe, just maybe, a bit of trauma from the last time. But you just had to say it. "I love you, Carlos. I love you so fucking much, mi amor. And I'll love you forever," You sobbed out.

Carlos gazed at you with wide eyes, his pace faltering slightly. As much as it turned him on, his heart was probably ten times happier. He felt warm; complete. He softened his gaze, bringing one hand to your cheek. His heart swelled at your natural lean in. Brushing his thumb gently, "I love you so much, Y/N. So much. And I'll never forget to remind you until my very last breath. You're my entire universe, querida (darling)."

Your eyes watered with a sickening amount of love as your body was hit with wave after wave. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," You cursed, clenching your eyes, a few tears slowly falling. Your hips bucked up against him, reaching for the high as Carlos rubbed your clit in fast circles.

"That's it, mi amor. Cum for me. Cover the the entire fucking wheel. Make a mess," Carlos encouraged, pushing you against the wheel, making your body convulse even further at the new texture.

"Fuck!" You swore, pussy throbbing and hips involuntarily jerking, reaching your climax.

Carlos groaned at the tight clench around his cock.

"Cum for me, Carlos. Look at the mess I made. All because of you. All for you," You coaxed, riding your sensitive pussy over him slowly.

His eyes flickered to the black Prancing Horse covered in your arousal; each little crevice of the wheel soaking up your cum. God, the monster you made him... He grunted, speeding up his pace as the coil in his stomach began to unwind quickly.

"Fuck, fuck," Carlos moaned loudly, holding you tightly to him. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," He muttered like a mantra, hips stuttering against you. He twitched inside you, feeling the hot salty strings of his cum spill into you.

"Oh, fuck," He sighed again, head falling on your chest while you moaned at the feeling of his cum inside you, clenching just one more time. His cock throbbed with another small high, pumping the last few ropes of his cum into you.

You let out a slow exhale, lifting Carlos' head by tilting his chin to face you. You rubbed his face gently, leaving a trail of kisses on his face as you both calmed down. You eyed the fogged windows and turned to see the Prancing Horse that had started this whole thing in the first place. You laughed softly.

"Well that was a stylish vision you had there," You remarked with a grin.

Carlos grinned right back at you. "Oh, cariño, we are doing that at least once every week."

"Oh, really?" You teased, putting your hands around his neck. "Well this type of car sex is definitely my style," You agreed after some feigned thinking.

Carlos smiled, tucking your sweaty hair behind your ears. He placed a long kiss on your lips. "It's our style."

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 smut #f1 imagine #mickyschumacher #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #formula 1

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fatuismooches · 6 months

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a lesson in the heart.

an alternate ending to lesson 10, in which you never “d̷͉̅͆į̷̩̀͋e̷̛̲͂d̷̢͒͊?” and never reincarnated.

Today, you were getting married to Kabukimono! It was bound to be such a joyous and blessed day! Yes, indeed the puppet had proposed to you (with the help of Niwa and Katsuragi) many months ago out of nowhere. You had no clue that he was planning such a grand thing, and to think it went unnoticed by you! You actually had to applaud him for managing to keep a secret for so long.

Kabukimono had taken great care to plan the surprise. Food that he had made all by himself without your knowledge (no wonder he had so many small cuts on his fingers!) Scoping out many beautiful places near Tatarasuna, mulling over which one was the prettiest and best for the proposal. Fretting to Niwa and the others about what he should say and them reassuring him every five minutes that everything was going to be fine. To think that your Kabukimono had matured so much was quite endearing.

When he woke you up one morning, lavishing your body in kisses, you sleepily thought nothing of it. Of course, waking each other up with soft kisses was a routine for both of you. But you knew something was up when Kabukimono refused to let you get out of bed, begging for you to relax and “let him take care of you.” You were a bit confused at this turn of events, as today was not your birthday or anniversary, or anything special that you could think of… were you forgetting something? Nevertheless, you were greatly pleased by Kabukimono’s improved skills in the kitchen. The breakfast he made was quite delicious.

He then carefully bathed your body, lovingly running his hands over you, a wide grin on his face. Okay, now you knew something was up because Kabukimono was never one who could contain his excitement easily. He kind of gave it away, but you still didn’t know what he was thinking of.

“Alright love, when are you gonna tell me what’s got you so pleased this morning?” The puppet jumped at your question. He didn’t realize he was showing his emotions so clearly. Oops. But you still had no clue about his surprise! He would just go along with you right now.

“You’ll see, [Name],” he hummed, “It’s very important and special.” You raised an eyebrow at this. His vague words only served to rile your curiosity even more. After, he ushered you to your closet and told you to get ready before he left swiftly. Huh. Today really seemed like it would be quite interesting. You decided to dress up a bit more than usual, nothing too plain, nothing too fancy either.

It was only more surprising when Kabukimono was waiting for you at the door, a basket of food and a blanket in his hands. You wondered, where did he get all this food fr- Ah, Niwa’s figure quickly scurrying away was your answer. So he was in on whatever this was too…

Kabukimono’s breath was taken away from how lovely you looked right now. His (hopefully) soon-to-be spouse. The thing about Kabukimono was that he didn’t even need to speak for you to feel adored. His wide and in-awed eyes told everything you needed to know as you scratched your head shyly. The eccentric then grabbed your hand and led you to the spot he had chosen, and you two made conversation on the way. Laughs and chatter filled the air.

The place he had chosen was breathtaking. You didn’t know how he had managed to find somewhere so pretty, but you loved it. And the food was incredibly tasty, all made by your lover himself. He blushed as you couldn’t stop the praises from leaving your mouth. You two spent hours like that, the day dwindling away until it was time to go back. But towards the end, Kabukimono seemed nervous about something, picking at his clothes and biting his lip nervously, his legs seemingly frozen in place.

“Love? What’s wrong?” Kabukimono’s eyes flickered toward yours and then back to the ground.

“[Name], I… I have something to tell you.” A wave of uneasiness overcame you. Was he okay? Was he hurt? Did anything bad happen?

“I’m listening,” you offered your full attention. He balled his fists and then released them, taking in a deep breath, resolution then flowing into his body.

“[Name], you… changed my life forever. When I was abandoned, I believed that I was worthless and that I was not useful to anyone. I thought I would be scorned and forced to be by myself forever. But you… you changed my fate. You taught me so many things no one else could, and most importantly, I learned… love. I never thought I could love or be loved. But you love me so unconditionally, and I can’t help but love you even more. You’re the one who taught me these emotions, these feelings. I love you, [Name],” Kabukimono devotedly stated. You were speechless. He then fumbled for something in his pocket but you couldn’t catch a glimpse of what it was.

“Every day we’ve been together is a day I’ve felt so happy, and…” Kabukimono gulped, building up his courage, “And I would like to ask… would you let me make all of your days happy too?” Kabukimono went down on one knee and opened the ring box, revealing a ring. The band was a very simple one, one like most of the couples around here wore. It was all he could afford, after all, they were in the simple village of Tatarasuna. But that didn’t matter to either of you. It was still so beautiful, you thought as you stared at it unmoving.

Kabukimono had initially taken your shocked silence as a no and began to worry and backtrack his words, before you snapped out of your daze and tackled him, sending both of your bodies to the ground. Before your fiancé could speak again, you pressed your lips onto his which he muffingly spoke against, and then realizing what was happening, kissed back.

“Oh, of course Kabukimono! Of course I’ll marry you!” You vehemently declared, peppering his face in kisses. Kabukimono had to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling too much, for his mouth already hurt from the excessive smiling and laughter. When he slipped the ring onto your finger, you never felt happier.

It seemed like the entire village knew of the plan except you because when you returned, everyone was there waiting and then cheered at the sight of the engagement rings on your and Kabukimono’s fingers. It was embarrassing… but very sweet.

Both of you were home, and nothing could change that.

—

All the villagers had joined together to help with the wedding preparations. Weddings were a sacred event for them, especially the union between their beloved puppet and you! It was a very busy time and it took lots of effort, but eventually, everything was prepared. The venue, which was of course the humble village, was decked out in lovely decorations. Tons of delicious food were prepared, and many outfits were created for the ceremony. The day of the wedding itself was beautiful, and the wind gently caressed you and Kabukimono as you two stood at the altar, reciting your vows to each other and swearing to be intertwined with each other for eternity.

As he slipped the wedding ring onto your finger, you realized your ring had the letter “K” engraved onto it for Kabukimono. Your soon-to-be husband’s ring had your initial carved into it as well. It was so… romantic, and suddenly all the emotions hit you at once as you began crying. Kabukimono understandably started panicking as well and began a barrage of questions, begging you to tell him what was wrong, to which you could only reply with the fact that you loved him so much. This only served to make your newly wedded husband start crying himself, and both of you cried in front of the whole audience. The whole village could not help but laugh at the sight and comfort the new sobbing couple. What a display of true love.

The rest of the night was one of pure joy. Dancing, partying, eating, drinking, typical wedding stuff. You made sure Kabukimono took part in everything, after all, this was a once-in-a-lifetime event! The fun still went on until late at night, but you two had slipped out of there for a bit for some alone time, as Kabukimono had one last gift for you. He was finally ready to perform the sword dance for you after the wedding. It was nothing short of ethereal. He was elegant, the moves flowing so smoothly it was hard to describe. Long hair swaying with every moment, complete calmness on his face. Not making a single mistake as you face in awe.

“Beautiful,” you murmured. “That was amazing, Kabukimono,” you could not put how you truly felt into words, but you hoped your feeling reached him anyway. Your husband smiled before he came and sat next to you, wrapping his arm around you.

“Not more than you,” he giggled before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. You laughed with him.

“Am I going to be showered with such compliments every day now?”

“Niwa says it’s critical for spouses to verbally communicate for a good and long relationship. I’m just communicating how much I love you,” Kabukimono stated simply, only making you chuckle more. You silently thanked Niwa before you locked lips with your husband.

“Promise to never leave me, Kabukimono?”

“I’ll never leave you, [Name]! I’ll be by your side forever.” You grinned and buried your head in his chest, wedding rings glinting in the moonlight. Kabukimono smiled even wider, his heart at peace.

“Then we’ll have to start planning our honeymoon, hmm?”

“Of course. We’ll spend the rest of our lives together, [Name].”

… Because in a dream, anything is possible.

—

“What do you mean he won’t wake up?” A worried, high-pitched voice echoed throughout the room.

“It means exactly that Paimon. Wanderer won’t wake up,” Nahida’s voice replied solemnly. The Traveler and Paimon stood next to the young God with confused expressions. “It seems that he is stuck in a dream.”

“Stuck in a dream? But… can’t you just enter his dream with your powers like we did last time? And then we could wake him up?

“I’ve already tried that, multiple times in fact. But, no matter how much I try… every part of his existence is rejecting me from entering with all the strength he has. And if I try to force myself in with greater power, I don’t know what the consequences could be…”

“Is that even possible? That doesn’t sound real to Paimon!”

“Dreams are powerful and mysterious things. Even I cannot understand them to the fullest extent.”

“But Paimon doesn’t understand… how did this happen in the first place? Why would he wanna be in a dream anyway?

“His past. Or rather, a particular person from his past.”

“Paimon thought he moved on from his past though?”

“He did for the most part, but… it seems that losing his first and last love at such a tender point in his life had far more of an impact than I initially thought. Wanderer only opened up to me about [Name] a few times…” The Archon trailed off, clearly troubled by her thoughts.

“[Name]... Paimon remembers them from when we looked at Wanderer’s memories together!” The Traveler nodded in agreement. “They did seem really important to him, but Paimon didn’t think he’d go to this length for [Name].”

“He’s already tried to end himself by deleting his existence from the world, but… I never could have expected this. I didn’t know he’d have such a hard time coping with the fact that [Name] will remain dead for all of eternity… This is my fault. I should have been more observant,” Nahida sighed as she placed a tiny hand on her forehead. “I’m going to continue trying… but I don’t think it’ll be easy. After all, I’ve never encountered a situation like this.”

“What do you think, Nahida? Do you think he’ll snap out of it?”

“Unfortunately, as much as I wish he would… I think I already know what his choice is, Paimon.”

The human heart. It will never be truly understood, not even by the best of scholars. It is unpredictable, and there’s no telling what it could drive one to do or feel. Even the ones who vehemently deny the presence of a heart cannot help but succumb to their heart’s desires from time to time. The puppet is no different.

Could this be considered a happy ending?

That’s for you to decide.

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 7 months

Text

A Perfect Score - Chapter 10 - A Song of Ice and Fire | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: The moment has arrived for you and Aemond to prove yourselves against the Martells. You can only hope you've done enough to earn your place | Word Count: 7.7k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: teasing, hair pulling, mile high club (oop), voyeurism, degradation, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), ass slapping, orgasm denial, threatening behaviour, mentions of a broken family, mentions of chronic pain, blood, slight angst, injury in relation to chronic condition, trigeminal neuralgia, hospitals

A/N: I can't believe this is the LAST CHAPTER FUCK 😭😭😭 i love these two sm, would die for them 🥰 I really hope you guys enjoyed this series, it was so fun to write! If you're lucky there might even be an Epilogue 😉

Sunspear.

That’s where the finals would be.

Cocky fuckers. Thinking that they had the win, by having it on Martell turf.

At this point, the prospect of winning was low on the priority list. The top spot had been somewhat taken over, by carrying out the plan you had in store, which Aemond was increasingly becoming more and more suspicious of.

You and Helaena would play dumb whenever he walked past her room, hiding whatever you were doing. As much as Helaena prefaced that what you had planned was a terrible idea, she’d grinned and told you to do it anyway.

She’d even given her opinion when you modelled it.

“Perfect” she said with a proud smile, leaning back in her chair.

You’d packed the suitcase well enough that Aemond wouldn’t see it even if he opened it by accident.

When it was time to load up the car for the flight to Sunspear, staying in a hotel overnight before the finals tomorrow, there was a finality to it that widened the pit in your chest. Helaena had barely had you out of her arms, intent on hugging every last bit out of you so that she could savour the feeling.

“We’ll all be watching the match tomorrow” she smiled, “try not to get into too much trouble before then”

As much as you’re happy that she and her family will be there, as your manager, he will too.

Aemond had pre-warned you about that.

But to be honest, you were expecting it.

“You know me, can’t keep out of it it seems” you smile back at her, hand slipping out of hers as you move onto Alicent, who stands straight, pink lips pressed together, like one touch and she’ll just crumble into tears.

Alicent nods, picking at the top of her turtleneck, “It was so nice to have you here, sweet girl. You are welcome back whenever you like” she manages, her voice wavering with emotion.

Smiling gratefully, nothing else need be said when Alicent opens her arms to pull you into a hug, as if you were her own. She smells like expensive perfume, probably YLS, as you’d often seen the bottle poking out of her bag. At first, when you met, you found the scent overpowering, and somewhat tart. But now, as the perfume enveloped you in a warm, motherly hug, it was entirely comforting. And your heart strained in your chest, knowing that it may be a while before you get to come back.

Your face pulls into a smile as Alicent then moves onto her son, bringing a comically tall Aemond in comparison into a warm embrace. No person is more surprised than you when Aegon walks over, trying to hide how nice he’s being with humour.

“Come in. Bring it in then”

You laugh through your nose, giving him a quick hug.

“Alright, that’s enough”

You shrug, smirking, “Fine, you smell anyway”

“Ouch, I’m so fucking wounded”

You pick up your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“I’ll be watching as well. Can’t wait to see what happens” Aegon winks.

You turn awake, feigning ignorance, “Dunno what you mean”

You fought the urge to tear up as you looked in the mirror, watching the three of them wave you away. With lips pressed together to force a smile to your face, strained with emotion, you spare them a wave back, bidding the large Targaryen House goodbye.

Once past the security gates a deep exhale exits your lungs, and Aemond’s hand wraps around your knee, stealing your attention.

You smile at him, giving a soft nod, “I’m alright”

Aemond laughs through his nose, “You’re acting like you’ll never go back” he chuckles, “I know Mum would be very offended if you didn’t”

Smiling, you know it’s probably true. That they would like you back as often as possible, no matter the outcome of the finals.

Aemond scrolls through his phone, biting the inside of his cheek, “Applications are closing soon” he muses, almost so quietly you don’t hear him unless you’re leaning close.

“For what?”

He clicks his phone off, shoving it into his sweatpants pocket, “For the new academic year” he replied anxiously.

“Philosophy and History right?” you smile, putting your hand on his to calm him, “You’ll love it, Aemond”

“I know, it’s just-” he adds, “I don’t know if I’ll be good at the whole academic side of it. It’s one thing to be interested-”

“You’ll do great because you’re interested in it” you smile, “besides there’ll be plenty of workshops on essay writing and such”

He sighs, like the idea of doing all of that is just so overwhelming right now. Not knowing what to expect, has his whole body tense.

“Finals first. Then I’ll apply” he states, turning to flash you a small, Aemond-smile. One you return with warmth.

“I’ll help you with your Personal Statement”

He laughs, “Then I’ll never get in” he jokes, making you swat his arm playfully.

It was a couple of hours on a plane to Sunspear, and with the assistance of the private jet supplied by Hightower Management, it was a simple process. The car even pulled up right next to it, allowing you both to largely avoid the media who stood behind the chain-link fence, trying to get a word or a photo from the mysterious couple.

You’d barely looked at the news. But every now and then, a notification would inevitably pop up on your phone, about your outburst and subsequent removal from the Targaryen House. Frustration boiled in your veins.

That wasn’t true.

But then again, not a lot they wrote about was true.

It happened so often, each time affected you less and less, and the quicker it was to push that aside.

An ‘unnamed insider’ had also offered their opinion.

‘There was an altercation with the Chairman of Hightower Management, in what I understand was a lapse of morals’.

You had laughed when you read it.

And so did Aemond.

Alys Rivers.

Still trying to dig her claws in, desperate for even a slither of that limelight. Of Aemond’s attention.

She wouldn’t fucking get it. No fucking way.

Aemond had joked that you’d beat her in a fist fight if need be. And you didn’t doubt it. In fact, the mental image somewhat amused you.

You looked up from your phone, the hum of the incessant jet engine vibrated through the seats. Arryk was fast asleep in the front of the jet, slumped back in his seat, with his hands clasped on his chest. His suit, inevitably crumpled with the awkward sleeping position he found himself in.

Aemond was seated next to you, earphones in, leaning back to only appear as if he were dozing.

You bite your lip, looking back down the aisle and then to Aemond.

He cracks open his eye as you stand up from your seat, a suspicious look rakes over you as you pull the jumper you were wearing over your head and huffing it onto the seat.

“Where are you going?” he asks gruffly, to which the only thing you can do is smile, seeing the way his gaze absorbs the image of what you’re wearing stuck tight to your skin.

Knowing he fucking hates it.

Hates it.

You roll your eyes.

“The toilet?” you reply sarcastically.

Gods, you know you’re pushing your luck but you just can’t help it.

You can practically feel the irritation radiating off Aemond. His lips part to say something but you’re gone with a smirk on your face before he can say anything. His harsh, determined gaze bores into the back of your head, burning a bright hole through it. You sway your hips as you walk down the aisle to the bathroom, closing the door, but not locking it.

10 seconds.

That’s how long you give it.

You pretend to wash your hands, looking in the mirror and smoothing your palms over the ponytail that sits semi-loosely at the back of your head.

5, 4, 3…

The door opens quickly and with a click it’s shut again, but this time Aemond slides the lock across. He had to duck to get into the cramped bathroom, and now with two people inside, it feels utterly stifling.

You have to bite back a smile that you’d guessed him so spot on. It hadn’t even been ten seconds. And here he stood, putting on a stoic, blank face, as if he had no intention of doing anything at all.

Your lips part to speak, but your throat is instead met with pressure, his palm flush to it and his fingers around the sides as he pushes you further into the bathroom.

“You want to get fucked?” he suggests in a dark, husky voice, the muscles in his arm tensing and untensing as his control begins to wane, “Hm?”

You can see the way he expects you to respond, but as his fingers press on the sides of your neck, it only serves to make your mind swirl with want, seeing how frustrated he is. Nothing seems to want to come out of your mouth, shock pleasantly blocking your throat.

“Think I didn’t see that? The way you rolled your eyes? Acting like a little slut?”

You swallow under his hand, his words sending a bolt of arousal straight between your legs, throbbing with desire. The way your cheeks burn makes it clear to him what you really want, coupled with the tremble that has now managed to worm its way up your legs.

In a smooth moment, your thighs hit the counter in front of the mirror, his arm now reaching widely around you to hold your head up to see his expression in the mirror. You shiver at the sensation of his hair on your skin, his nose dragging up the side of your neck, his breath eventually hot on the shell of your ear.

“You just want it, don’t you?” he grunts, pressing his now noticeable erection against your backside, his hips moving torturously slow, as if to make you wait, to tease you.

Pride rings in your body at the way he’s just so easily fallen apart the way you predicted.

“No” you tease, biting back a smile which he sees in the mirror.

His mouth drawn tightly into a line, not revealing at all what he’s thinking.

Aemond’s large hands go to your leggings, tearing them down harshly like he can’t get a good grip on them. The speed, the sheer neediness of the gesture, has arousal pooling where you need him most and your skin prickling with desire.

“We’ll see about that”

You have to spread your hands on the counter to keep yourself up as Aemond tugs your leggings down just enough and bends you over, exposing you just enough that the cool air against your core makes you shiver.

“No” he gruffs, wrapping your hair around his knuckles and tugging back to make you look in the mirror at him, “You’re going to watch”

You barely have time to think about his threat before you feel the fat head of his cock kiss your folds, pushing forward, Aemond moans breathily as he looks down to watch you take the entirety of him, squeezing his length tightly.

It feels like the air is being constantly pushed from your lungs, he doesn’t even give a moment of reprieve, one hand tugging your hair and the other kneading the fleshy globe of your ass to spread you open for him to see. His cock pistons so quickly and with such a lewd sound that for a moment, it makes you embarrassed that Arryk might actually hear from the front of the plane.

“Keep your eyes open, princess” she breathes, leaning over your neck and giving a harsh tug to remind you. You whimper as his teeth graze over your skin, combined with the way he bullies that sensitive spot inside you in this position, it all feels very too much.

“Just my little fucktoy aren’t you, hm?” he grunts against your ear. And without even thinking you nod quickly, not trusting yourself to speak, your eyes dragging down to watch the ceaseless rocking of his hips slapping against you.

He delivers a hard slap to your ass, “Say it”.

“ - yes, I am - I am -”

Aemond groans, burying himself as deep as he can inside you with each devastating thrust, “Yeah, that’s right -”

You gasp loudly, eyes slipping shut as his hand makes his way to your front, his thumb drawing harsh circles against your clit. It’s more pressure than you anticipated to such a sensitive area, and it has your body pushing back to meet his, desperate.

“ - fuck, Aemond -”

“ - not my name, princess-”

Just when you’re about to lose it, he ceases his movements to your clit and slows his pace dramatically and he chuckles darkly when you whine with annoyance.

“If you want to cum, I want to hear it-”

You can’t help but feel irritated. You are so, so close. It’s unfair.

“Come on, you can do it, baby-”

With a strained, annoyed tone, “-fuck, daddy please - I’m so close-”

You feel him grin against your neck, “better”

Nothing feels more overwhelming than when he picks up the pace again, blood feeling as if it’s on fire as it hums around your body, right to your little bundle of nerves that Aemond hasn’t left alone.

“-that’s it, cum around my cock, princess-”

And you do.

Hard.

So much so that Aemond has to put his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. Especially when his pace never falters, and he fucks you through your orgasm with the same vigour. Aemond moans as your walls flutter around him, squeezing his length tightly.

He pulls out, fisting his length quickly in his fist, a shuddered groan falling from his glorious lips as his warm cum coats your bare pussy. It’s near-pornographic, the way it feels to be covered by him, and even more so when he smears his cum over your slit with the head of his cock.

You smile tiredly, seeing that this little act is something that Aemond enjoys doing often.

Perhaps it's his way of reminding you you're his.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect-” he praises, “-baby you’ve made such a mess- come on, be a good girl-”

You’re near breathless as he pushes you to your knees in front of him, covering your lips with the cum that glazes his cock before plunging into your mouth. You let your jaw relax as Aemond makes the slow, lazy pace, using your mouth to clean the aftermath off his length.

You moan around him, the taste of him salty and heavy on your tongue.

“That’s it - you like me using your mouth, don’t you-”

You make a noise of confirmation as he continues to use you, making his head tip back at the vibrations stimulating his oversensitive cock.

He pulls you off by your hair, looking down at you reverently, using his thumb to swipe whatever was left on your lips back into your mouth.

As your eyes meet, both of you light up in a smile.

"Seven fucking Hells, what am I going to do with you" he smiles lovingly.

The Dornish heat was nothing compared to that little bathroom.

The air was crisp as you exited the plane, a dull, but satisfied ache between your thighs. In fact, Arryk had looked at you both with some level of barely-contained suspicion when you came out the bathroom on the flight, and you’d flushed bright red when he asked if you were alright, and swatted Aemond when he made no attempt to hide his smugness and laughed out loud.

The hotel was lavish, and entirely different in style from the hotels you were used to on the tour. The floors were marble, the walls largely made of stone, with bright and vibrant colours decorating the tall ceilings and walls.

Even people’s fashion was different. Flowy fabrics of silk and light linens, probably due to the intense heat, which was already making it difficult to concentrate.

You gave Aemond a look when the receptionist gave you one key.

As if being in on an inside joke of sorts.

The last time you were forced to share one room, it was a very different circumstance.

The room was spacious and utterly luxurious, but you’d expect nothing less from the Martells.

The bed was enclosed with panels of delicate details surrounding it, along with silks of various vibrancies to lift it. The floor was marble, and a nice cooling sensation in comparison to the stifling air.

And as Aemond snaked his arms around your waist as you looked out onto the balcony at the lavish gardens, leaning down to bite at your neck softly, your eyes slipped shut.

“Aemond the finals are tomorrow, we have to practi-”

“And I intend to” he whispered back, kissing higher and higher on your neck, while one of his hands sank lower and lower, til they were beneath the waistband of your leggings.

“It’s still early, Princess” he mused.

You had both christened the bed that afternoon, and later on, any available flat surface Aemond could find, he would do things that would make even Aegon blush.

Unlike the other hotels, there was only one ice rink in Sunspear, and it would be the one you’d be using tomorrow to compete against the Martells. It was a bit annoying having to book in a spot to go over the routine, and you and Aemond had already practised beyond measure, but it was still nice to get a few more sessions in before the big day.

Surprisingly, you felt okay, and Aemond was the nervous one. Even though realistically, there was little outcome for Aemond, whether you won or not.

You sigh, the cool air of the rink hitting your skin, “At least it’s nice and cool in here”

Huffing your bag onto the floor, you look behind at him when he doesn’t reply.

Aemond, with a stoic expression, only gestured with his head in the direction of the stands.

Larys Strong sits there, his cane in hand.

His head is angled down, so that he’s looking over the bridge of his brow, his darkened eyes flitting between you and Aemond from where he’s seated in the middle of the rows of seats, which tomorrow, would be filled with people.

Immediately, irritation gnaws at your insides. And the only saving grace is Aemond’s careful hand on your arm, grounding you.

You make no effort to go to him.

He will come to you if he wants to speak.

It almost pleases you that it takes him so long to stand and step down to the ice rink, so that it gives you more time to think of what to say. You go to move away to speak to him, but Aemond’s fingers tighten, holding you close to him.

He wanted to stay with you.

“Aemond” Larys greeted first, leaning on his cane as he stopped before you both, smirking as he searched both of your faces.

Aemond didn’t respond.

“What do you want?” you ask, getting swiftly to the point, as you knew he wouldn’t.

Larys bowed his head, as if briefly embarrassed and wondering what to say, his slick wavy brown hair not moving around his shoulders.

“I am here for the finals-”

“That’s not what I asked” you added quickly, “to the point, please”

You didn’t see the barely-contained smirk that Aemond was struggling to keep at bay behind you. It turned out, he rather liked to see you angry.

Larys floundered noticeably.

“You had seen my emails?”

“I had”

Larys raised an eyebrow, “and it was insufficient?”

Biting your lip, you couldn’t hide your contempt, “You expected me to go to the press?”

“I thought that was the plan”

“There was no plan. Nor an exchange of terms between you and I. I sought your help because I thought you had information on my employment, and you did. There is nothing more to say”

He goes quiet for a moment, before lifting his signature smirk to his face.

“I see the Ice Princess has some fire in her”

Aemond’s grip tightens, as if he’s ready to explode at any moment.

“I do hope Floris is alright” he muses, taking a short step forward, “it’d be a shame for such a capable skater to retire so soon into her career”

Your eyebrows furrow.

Was that a fucking threat?

Larys smirks slightly, appearing to have hit the nerve he was after.

"Good luck with the finals"

"Watch it" Aemond responds, keeping a firm grip on your arm. Now because he's afraid you might actually hurt him.

Larys laughs through his nose.

Fuck you.

You and Aemond watch with bated breath as Larys leaves slowly, the clang of the double doors rattling behind him.

Aemond let's out a breath.

"Should I be watching where I put my skates now?" You ask him, half joking. But it earns a breathy laugh nonetheless.

"You say that. Maybe you should"

Practice goes as expected.

The routine is intricate, perhaps the most technical so far, but in a nice way. Working with Aemond now, when everything had been addressed was nice.

Gods it was so nice.

It almost made you sad that he wanted to retire after the finals.

He was so graceful. For such a tall guy, lined with lean muscle, he had such elegance on the ice. Wasn't afraid to show off, which the judges would no doubt love.

The song?

Swan Lake. The Ending Song.

A bold choice of Otto's.

Was that a threat too? Perhaps?

It didn't bother you too much, as you'd found a perfect place within the song to do what you had planned for weeks.

And gods, it'd all be worth it to see his face.

It was all very surreal.

A flurry of texts crowded your screen on the morning of the finals.

Rhaenys.

Baela. Rhaena.

Floris.

El.

Even some of your family.

Estranged family.

You're certain you blocked their number.

You sigh, pulling the towel around yourself and walking out of the open wet room. Aemond is laid flat on his back on the bed, a damp cold cloth applied to the marred eye.

If you didn't know any better, he looked asleep.

"Still bothering you?" You ask.

He just makes a noise of confirmation. His eye not moving.

You rub his arm lovingly as you sit next to him.

His eye had been bothering him all night, so much so that embarrassingly (his words) he'd had to remove the glass eye he wore and slept without it to alleviate the pain.

He'd looked so vulnerable when he showed you.

As if you'd run away when you saw it.

But instead, your heart leapt. You were more lovey than usual after a little drink at the bar with Aemond after practice, and you'd pressed your lips to his scarred cheek. Lingering.

Little did you know, that his heart leapt as well.

And when you slept, moulded in each other's arms.

It felt like it was always meant to be this way.

It changed something.

"Do you want some painkillers?" You ask softly,

"I'm alright, just took some…waiting for them to kick in"

Patting his arm, you give him a reassuring smile, though he can't see it.

Making sure he's not looking, you sneak the outfit out of your suitcase and into your bag for later. Biting your lip, you try hard to contain the excitement in your veins. And nerves as well.

For a lot of things.

Ping!

You laugh through your nose.

Scrolling, you check the other messages you have.

You laugh at that too.

Gods she's such a boomer. It's kind of painful.

You shoot her a quick text back, clearing the texts from your family without replying.

Not like they deserve it anyway.

Everytime you see a text from them now, it only reminds you of why Otto hired you.

Bad circumstances.

Someone of low background.

Ugh fuck him.

Fuck. Him.

With a barge pole if needed.

Aemond huffs as he gets up, squinting and looking over at you, "ready to dance with the vipers?"

"Oh more than ready" you smile at him.

You're thankful you have your own dressing room at least. To get everything right without Aemond's curious eye constantly looking at you.

No time for quickies this time round.

You look at yourself in the mirror, hair all done into a ponytail with curls falling from it. Decorated with glitter hairspray and little pearls. Your outfit is black, as Otto had said it would be in his email. The corset is almost velvet like, with a slight v at the top (which made it difficult to initiate your plan, but you managed). And the mesh skirt over the leotard sways like a cloud over your legs.

You steel yourself.

You can do this.

When you go out to the hallway, looking down to the ice rink, where the stands are entirely full with the echoed chatter of the audience, your skin immediately prickles with nerves.

You feel Aemond's hand on the small of your back, making heat crawl up your neck.

"Feeling okay?" He asks in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

You don't think you'll ever get over the feeling you get when you see him with his sapphire eye.

It literally takes your breath away.

But his scar looks reddened somewhat.

You furrow your brows, "Are you?" You ask, concerned, "your eye. It looks sor-"

"I'm fine" he says quickly.

I don't believe that.

You can see the way he's trying to be brave about it. His jaw tight and his good eye looking anywhere but you, as if he knows he'll be found out.

"Aemond we don't have to. If you're in pain-"

"No. I want to do this for you" he urges.

For you.

You swear for a moment your heart skips a beat, stilling in your chest as the rest of you gets warm.

Aemond can never be forced.

He's stubborn like that.

A Targaryen trait, you muse.

But you know deep down, he won't heed your warning. He's headstrong. Completely sure of his own opinion, rightly or wrongly.

There's something about it now though, which doesn't feel right.

"I'm alright, princess. Promise" he adds, taking one of your hands in his while he takes in your outfit.

"You look nice" he says, forcing a smile to his face. His hand goes over your sleeves to the clips at the top. He plays with them briefly, as if wondering what they are before you playfully slap his hand away.

"Off"

He gives you a look.

A suspicious one.

He knows you're up to something.

Then he smiles.

Again a forced one, but stubbornness will kill him first.

As you both walk towards the ice rink, journalists, media, the judges, the faces of the audience as well as the Martells all serve to wake your nerves.

You wave at Rhaenys in the crowd, Baela and Rhaena seated either side of her.

"There they are, the Ice Prince and Princess. Ready for the finals in their all black get up"

"They appear to be closer this time, speaking in hushed voices- oh! Was that a kiss I saw?"

"It was! Perhaps there is more to this mere partnership than meets the eye"

Aemond whispers to you, "up in the stands, to the right"

When you follow his eyeline, your face drops and you turn to avoid the cameras from getting a good look at your expression.

Otto Hightower sits there.

Alone.

Good.

He's looking down at you both, chin high but his gaze looking over his nose like you're shit at the bottom of his shoe. His hands are clasped in expectancy, clearly desiring a favourable outcome to the performance.

But at least now you know where he is, so you can see the look on his face.

The thought of it has an evil smirk rise to your face.

"Are we going first?" You ask.

Aemond nods.

Fuck. You hate going first.

And as if by magic-

"Aemond fucking Targaryen. The One-Eyed wonder!"

Qoren's voice has a tendency to travel. And right now, it's travelling through every nerve in you, jolting them awake. He walks over with a swagger, a slowness, clad entirely in bright mustard and wine tones, akin to his partner who is sat on the bench scrolling through her phone.

Aemond sighs, "Qoren" he greets flatly, rubbing his thumb against his temple on the marred side of his face.

"Just wanted to say good luck" Qoren smirks, nudging a curled wave out his face, "I'm certain you won't need it"

Cunt.

That's what you want to say.

Instead, you roll your eyes and take Aemond's hand leading him to the ice rink.

"Ignore him" you tell him, pulling of the blade guards and tossing them aside.

Aemond huffs a laugh, "Seven Hells, if he's in your bad books he's done for" he replies, joining you as you both go out onto the ice to do a few laps.

"Our Crownlands couple look ready and composed for a challenge today"

"And a challenge it will be. It's never easy going first, especially against the Martells. They'll have to work for it"

You skate next to him for a few warm-up laps, the heat rising again to your face as he takes your hand, giving his signature one sided smile.

Your heart flutters pleasantly.

In front of all these people?

He sees your reaction.

"I'm not going to hide anything anymore, princess" he says softly, "I've done it for far too long"

One part of you wants to cry with joy.

The other wants to drag him to the nearest dark corner.

So instead, you squeeze his hand. A good compromise.

As you skate to a halt in the middle, you mouth the words.

'I love you'

And your heart roars with delight.

He mouths it back.

"Our couple seem utterly smitten with each other"

"Their chemistry rivals the Martells, for sure!"

Taking a deep breath, you and Aemond nod to each other, getting in position to wait until the music starts.

It's quiet.

You could hear a pin drop.

His hand is warm.

The clarinets begin to play, the opening sequence of violins accompanying the music as you and Aemond begin the medium paced routine. The only sound you both can hear is the blades tearing through the ice, the rustle of your clothing against each other and the shallow breaths between each movement of the routine, moving swiftly hand in hand, twirling and feeling light and airy as Aemond lifts you effortlessly.

The music is almost frantic, the trumpets are getting so loud that they almost vibrate the ice beneath you. But you concentrate on the routine at hand, letting Aemond take your weight with each quick lift into the air, each synchronised motion perfectly executed.

“Quite a quick routine from the couple. Good choice of song and good technical ability so far”

“Yes, they really look like a proper team now, don’t they?”

As the music picks up momentum, you briefly glance at the stands mid-spin, smirking when you spot Otto’s eyes half closed, looking right at you. As if wondering what it is you are thinking.

Drums.

As Aemond moves in front of you for a split second, your hands lift to your shoulders, unpopping the buttons there.

No going back now.

Aemond looks over you in brief shock as the black is completely encompassed, a sheet of dark green falling over it like a curtain, replacing the beaded darkness with the bright forest colour he was so used to seeing his mother wear on her old performances.

It quickly changes to a barely-contained smile as the fabric laps at your thighs, the green mesh replacing the translucent black, right as the music hits its crescendo.

"Oh my-is that what I think it is!"

"Hightower Green looks very good on our Ice Princess!"

You don’t even have time to look at Otto.

The audience is a mix of clapping, awes and shouting of support. Never wavering for a moment.

Aemond continues the routine with a big, boyish smile plastered onto his face, performing the rest of the moves and lifts with a renewed vigour and passion that was not there before.

The rest of it seems to fly by, assisted by the smitten way you look at one another. Before you even know it, the music has died out. You and Aemond face each other, foreheads almost touching as the applause roars around you, several items like flowers and flags being thrown onto the ice around you.

It’s difficult to describe Aemond’s expression. Awe? Affection? Lust?

Love.

All you know is that you love it. And that all this was worth it.

You’re about to open your mouth, when his hands find each side of your face, his fingers holding the back of your head desperately, as he crashes his lips to yours.

In front of everyone.

In front of all of Westeros.

It feels exhilarating. Adrenaline boils the blood inside you, burning for him. And when you part, breathless after not only that, but the energy of the routine, all you can do is smile. Feeling so in love with him it’s honestly disgraceful.

Hand in hand, you bow to the audience, a massive grin plastered on your face. Rhaenys, Baela and Rhaena are all stood, clapping passionately. Larys is seated at the end of a particular row, both hands clasped on his cane, smirking beneath it, as if he just loves watching the drama unfold.

And then Otto.

You’re happy to find he looks absolutely livid.

That's right, you think. This is where my loyalties lie.

Aemond’s grip tightens on you as you give your bow to the judges. But it’s not a tight, comforting hold. Not one of victory, or love.

“Aemond?..” you ask, turning to him.

He’s breathing heavily, his other hand pressed to the scarred side of his face, his good eye blinking quickly as he turns to you.

Your face blanches, “Aemond, what’s wrong-”

“I’m fine, it’s just-ah fuck”

He nearly doubles over in pain, his hand pressed painfully to the left side of his face, the faintest bit of blood trickling between his fingers.

Panic rings through you, and with your hands on his sides, you guide him on the ice towards the edge, helping him sit, ignoring the muffled whispers and rumours that echo around the atrium, “let me see, Aemond..”

He shakes his head erratically, “No, no, just-I’m okay”

“Aemond you are not okay” you urge, watching the way his other eye waters from the pain, his face going pink as he encourages himself to take deep breaths.

“It appears he may have some sort of injury. We’re waiting on some updates from management”

“Who do you need me to call?” you ask him hurriedly,

“I don’t know-fucking-call Mum, please” he replies pitifully, bending over in searing, hot pain that radiates from his eye socket.

Spotting Arryk, you rush over and grab his phone that he throws, pulling it to your ear while rubbing Aemond’s shoulder.

“Aemond, take the sapphire out, it’s just going to hurt you more-”

“No, no, I can’t-” he shakes his head, panicked and scared.

“Aemond”

When his good eye meets you, he looks so vulnerable and unsure you almost regret your tone.

But you just want him to be okay.

Turning away, he dislodges the sapphire, his hand still covering his face, despite having the utmost trust in you, he still doesn’t want you to see it, all red and sore.

“Hello, Alicent? Yeah I think Aemond is having one of his neurological-fuck-I don’t know-episodes? I don’t know what to do?” you speak nervously into the phone.

“I know, I know, sweet girl. He needs to go to Urgent Care right away, and needs his glycerol injections, alright? Where’s my father?”

“I don’t know, I can’t see him!”

“He has Aemond’s health insurance card, okay, find him and get him to hospital as soon as you can. okay? Has he taken the sapphire out?”

“Yes, I made him”

“Good. Until he gets to hospital, just apply a warm compress and keep him calm, okay? You can do this”

You hang up quickly, looking around and spotting Otto as he paves his way through the crowd of people. Still rubbing Aemond’s shoulder, all notions of hating him are gone in favour of helping the quivering, vulnerable man in front of you, whining pitifully as his nerves are set aflame.

“Otto, he needs to go to a hospital. Do you have his health card?”

Stoically, he nods, his eyes ignoring you, “I do, Arryk will take us. Come on”

He assists Aemond to his feet, leading him to the exit with urgency.

The fire doors open and Aemond turns to you, “You have to stay”

“What? No! I’m coming with you!”

“One of us has to stay, we’ll get disqualified” he reasons, with a wavering voice.

“Aemond, I don’t care about-”

“Well I do. Stay” he urges.

You go quiet, staring at him in disbelief and also shock. And seeing it all over your face, how conflicted both of you are, he leans forward pressing a kiss to your forehead, his fingers stroking your hair lovingly.

“I’ll be fine, baby..” he adds softly, “Stay”

You watch him hurry out of the fire escape, and straight into the back of Arryk’s car with Otto. He’s so doubled over in pain, clutching the sapphire in one fist, that he barely has any time to look back at you standing there, the warm air making the mesh skirt lap at your legs.

You only meet his worried gaze at the last second.

A shuddered breath tumbles from your lips, the adrenaline and panic of the last few minutes just sinking in. You feel a bit helpless, unable to do anything for him as he’s driven to hospital.

“Hey” the soothing voice of Rhaenys at your side pulls you out, and you look at her with bleary eyes, “are you alright?”

You nod quickly, “Yeah, I think so..”

She guides you back inside, sitting at the sidelines, “Sit here, I’ll get you a drink”

You can’t relax. The room feels like it’s spinning.

“Just a little update. Aemond Targaryen has been rushed to hospital in what we believe is an episode of acute pain due to a long-standing condition”

“We’ll wish him all the best in hospital and hope it isn’t anything too serious”

Rhaenys gives you a warm cup of coffee, but you can’t drink it, you’re too on edge already. And if any caffeine is pumped into your already hammering heart, you think it might explode.

You don’t even concentrate on the performance the Martells are doing, eyes nowhere near the scoreboard. Your leg bounces nervously, fully aware that you are probably being scrutinised endlessly by the media, with hundreds of articles already written about you.

Their orange and red outfits dance in your periphery. Spins, twists, lifts. Things that right now, don’t mean an awful lot to you. All you can think about is when Aemond turned to you, blood trickling between his fingers, face twisted in pain.

“Hey…”

You don’t even realise you’ve zoned out until Rhaenys taps your arm excitedly.

Shaking your head, you look around, everyone’s stood. Smiling. Clapping. The Martells are lazily skating their way to their end of the rink, talking with their manager, with bowed heads.

“Wha?..” you reply, completely dazed, “what’s happened?..”

“Qoren’s partner fucked her landing. They’re a whole 10 points short on the technical. Not including the penalty they’re likely to get” she replies, leaning closely to whisper it, a victorious smirk on her face.

Oh shit.

Your eyes meet the scoreboard, watching as the rest of the scores come in.

With the penalty, they’re tragically low. But your breath feels hot in your throat still.

This was always the part you hated.

Rhaenys’ ring-clad hand grips yours tightly.

The crowd's cheer, applause and shouts of support are nothing compared to the roaring in your ears.

"We won"

Entirely shocked beyond words and comprehension, Rhaenys pulls you into a hug, jumping up and down excitedly. Your face is blanched with shock, eyes still, and you realise you must look a total idiot to everyone else. The reality of the situation still not entirely dawning on you.

"The Crownlands have done it. The Championship title is theirs!"

"Shame our Ice Prince cannot be there to receive his trophy"

"Go! Go!" Rhaenys urges, pushing you by your shoulders to the stands where the judges are all grinning, holding the trophy, medals and large bouquet of gloriously colourful flowers.

It's a blurred slew of 'well done' and 'congratulations'.

The Martells, though devastated, nod in your direction in congratulations. And you barely hear it, but Qoren even seems to offer some sort of kind words for Aemond's condition.

Still doesn't make him less of a twat.

The trophy, long and golden, is heavy in your hands, rested against your shoulder, with the flowers pushed into your other, shoulders sagging with the weight of two medals around your neck.

Aemond.

With a few quick thank yous and bows of your head, your panicked, searching eyes find Rhaenys, who already has her car keys and your jacket in her grip.

"Come on" she utters, "quickly"

It feels utterly silly to still be wearing the green outfit for the competition while riding in the passenger seat of Rhaenys' Mercedes. But at least your black jacket provides some semblance of normality. You didn't even have time to take the medals off.

You did however, change your shoes, shucking your skates off in the footwell of her car.

She's driving well over the speed limit. But hey, most of Sunspear are as well. Through several junctions, she even graces some of the locals with her middle finger.

If you weren't so taut with nerves, it'd make you laugh.

The tyres screech loudly as she pulls into the hospital car park, the trophy nestled between your legs nearly making you trip over yourself as you hurl yourself out the car door.

Those tell-tale clicks of camera shutters and the echo of incessant questions are instantly upon you.

With the trophy loosely in one hand, all you can do is run to the entrance of the hospital, where the media are not allowed.

This time, they part a path for you.

The security guards at the front who have been fending them off, see your outfit, medals and trophy and immediately slip the door open, "Room 47"

You nod in thanks, your breath feeling like blood in your throat from the effort of running so fast and so suddenly. The lights inside the hospital hallways are stark, clinical, and far too bright. Your trainers thud against the linoleum floor, eyes desperately searching for the numbers on the rooms.

"25...24...shit, I'm going the wrong way-"

Aemond.

It doesn't help in the slightest that the hospital is a complete maze. You probably look a complete mess, pink in the face, hair all mussed up from running, but it's the last thing on your mind.

At the end of the hallway, you spot Otto, chatting with a dark-haired man in a white coat. Engaged in conversation, only looking up when the tide of loud footsteps comes closer to them.

You don't care about that either.

Otto tries to reach out to stop you from going in, but you're too fast, fiddling with the handle of the door before he has a chance to pull you back.

It's quiet. Your hurried breathing sounds so loud in your chest.

The door slams into the wall and Aemond looks up, seated sideways on the hospital bed. His cheeks are pink, from the remnants of pain that still linger, but he looks calmer, relaxed, with his brows unfrowned and sitting comfortably on his forehead. His hair, that was so neatly styled for the competition in his signature bun is somewhat curled from the sweat on his forehead and back of his neck.

A surgical patch is taped over his left eye.

His lips twitch when he sees you there, his right eye gleaming with affection, clearly out of breath, having ran the entire length of the hospital to get to him.

"Hey Princess..." he says softly, in a way that never fails to make your heart lurch into your throat.

You almost cry with relief that he's alright.

He licks his dry lips, "Did we do it?..."

With a relieved smile, a lump forming in your throat with emotion, you nod quickly, "Yeah...yeah we did..."

The breath is expelled from your lungs near-painfully when you surge towards each other, throwing your arms around one another, the trophy propped on the floor where you were previously stood.

He feels warm, with his hands around you like this, his heart thrumming fast in his chest. Your body sags against him.

He feels like home.

You hear him inhale, the familiar scent of you immediately having a calming effect on his body, his hand raising to brush your hair from your face as his palms cup either side of it, pressing a light feather-like kiss to your forehead.

His thumb wipes your undereye of moisture. But his smile says it all, his eyes crinkling, briefly irritating the spot where he's obviously had his glycerol injections not a moment before.

"I never doubted you" he utters quietly, "...not for a second"

You give a watery laugh. Hardly recognising this Aemond compared to the one you first met.

Competitions.

Scores.

Drama.

It all means fucking nothing.

The future. Happiness. It's all right here.

"Aemond Targaryen, don't ever scare me like that again..." you smile at him, half-joking, fingers tenderly stroking along his jawline, prickles of regrowth rubbing comfortingly along your skin.

He huffs a laugh through his nose, his mouth opening slightly as he smiles.

"No promises, princess"

And finally, with a pleased little muffled sound crawling up your throat, his tender, full lips descend onto yours, sealing whatever is felt between you right now and all that has happened before.

It doesn't even need to be said. Those three little words.

Because they're just not enough.

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998

516 notes · View notes

myfictionaldreams · 21 days

Note

request: nyx x female reader where they’re matted but don’t know it and reader visits him at the illyrian camps and she gets hurt and nyx loses it

Don't Touch // Nyx (ACoTaR) x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even thank you enough, anon, for this request! I've been desperate to write something like this (especially including my sweet love Nyx; I have an entire headcanon/long-form story of him already, oops). Thank you for requesting! To you or anything else, please request more SJM fics, I am adoring writing them.

Warning: there is a description of visibly seeing the colour of bruising on the skin. Also, intense emotions and responses to situations due to the mating bond.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, minor injuries, possessive behaviour/sex, obsessive behaviour, over-the-top reaction (or just right depends how you like your partners), threats of violence, aggression, rough sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, size kink, intense emotions/sex, sex until passing out :)

Words: 6.3k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

"I've never seen you like this before, Mor" You observe your friend closely as the beautiful blonde woman checks her reflection in the glass of a passing shop.

Morrigan paused, where she was currently trying to perfect her already stunning hair. Trying not to baulk from the intense, fiery stare that turned your way as she raised a single well-groomed eyebrow and attempted to sound as unconcerned as possible, "I don't know what you're referring to. I'm acting completely and utterly sane".

Linking an arm with your friend, you both continued to walk as you sarcastically agreed, "Oh yes, of course. Except that was the tenth time you've stopped to stare at your reflection and tried to fix your already pristine hair, Morrigan".

Mor rolled her brown eyes playfully, moving closer as a brisk wind brushed over the two of you. "You already know I'm vain; why is it such an issue if I want to stare at myself?" she asked, leading in the direction the two of you were walking.

"I didn't say there was an issue. I'm just pointing out that we're heading towards a certain someone's shop, and she's going to love how you look no matter what". Mor hid her face for once, but you could still see the rosy colour deepening in her cheeks.

She quickly recovered by lifting her head and flicking the blonde strands behind her shoulders. "You're one to talk. I've seen you searching over your shoulder 50 times now. Wouldn't it be because of a certain family member of mine, would it?"

There was no hiding the grin that spread across your face as your pulse quickened ever so slightly. "Nyx doesn't even know that I'm in Windhaven. I might not even see him; I'm not here for him."

"Who says I was talking about Nyx? I'm pretty sure Feyre and Rhys are here too", she laughs as you shove your shoulder into hers playfully. As you both calm down, Mor's expression turns more serious. She glances at you, "I'm surprised he hasn't sensed you're here yet. I also don't necessarily think he'll welcome you with open arms; he's attempted to shield you from this side of his life. As hard as we are trying to change the cultures and traditions of the Illyrians, most of them are still unpleasant to be around, especially if you happen to be a female, wings or not."

"You didn't have to bring me here, you know".

"Yes, well, don't make me regret it. Stay nice and close to me, and anyway", Mor paused as she paused outside Emeries shop. "I needed an excuse to come here", she admitted with as much sheepishness as Morrigan would ever allow another person to see.

You couldn't help but grin as you squealed, "Ha! I knew it!"

The bell dinged above the shop door as you followed the blonde through the door. The answer, welcomed by Emerie by the counter, "There you both are! Welcome to Windhaven, stay away from the males, and please have a lovely time", she beams, walking around the counter towards Mor.

Glancing around to give both women a private moment, you admired her shop and eyed some of the winter clothing that would be perfect for the cold weather approaching Velaris in a few months. As you ran your fingers over the lining of a beautiful coat and casually suggested over your shoulder, "If you want, I can watch the shop if you two happen to find your way upstairs. Didn't you say you have some new socks in the back room?"

"Oh yes, thank you for the reminder!" Emerie played with your antics and took Mor's hand, dragging her into the back. Smiling at seeing their happiness, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to the man whom you'd been searching for from the second of landing in Windhaven.

You and Nyx had been friends since childhood. You'd spotted a young boy flying over the Sidra, mesmerised by the freeness of his movements, not watching where you were walking, tripped and scratched your knee on the pavement. Having watched it all from the sky, Nyx landed beside you and helped you home. He hadn't laughed like the other children; he'd shown compassion and kindness.

The son of the High Lord and Lady quickly became one of your closest friends, spending every waking hour possible together when you weren't in lessons or he was in training. Along the way, lines became blurred, and you were infatuated with one another. The relationship was intense, to say the least, and the two of you often joked about being mates, but no sign of the bond had occurred yet.

Not that this mattered to you. You were thoroughly and obsessively in love with Nyx, and he was with you. In fact, his obsession and possessive behaviour were renowned throughout Velaris. Every occupant knew that you were Nyx's; if a single hair on your head was out of place, he would bring all of the power of the Night Court down on them. It was extreme at first, but in truth, you were not much of a fighter, so being able to walk around Velaris with the reputation of belonging to Nyx was a relief.

Now, however, it had been weeks since you saw him as he'd been training with the other Illyrians, and even though he used his daemati skills to talk mind to mind with you or he left intimate little notes throughout your home, it couldn't ease the ache in your chest. So when Mor mentioned visiting Emerie's shop in Windhaven, you jumped at the opportunity to see, hoping you'd run into him, even if he didn't want you near the camps.

Lost in your thoughts of black hair and vibrant blue eyes, you'd not noticed that someone had entered the shop until a male growled from behind you, "Where is she?"

Jumping and turning on the spot, you looked the Illyrian over from the golden-brown skin covered in the darkest black tattoos that stretched up his neck and over the sides of his shaved head, leaving a tuft of hair down the centre. His membranous wings were widely spread as he stood in a defensive stance, fists tightly clenched at his side and armour creased from lack of care.

"Who?" you asked innocently, facing him fully and trying not to let his anger intimidate you even though you could already smell the sourness of your anxiety and fear in the air. The stranger walks forward, the tips of his wings knocking into a collection of hats, all toppled to the floor. "Watch where you're walking!"

The male stops a step away, tilting his head and frowning with even more vigour, "What did you just say to me?" As he took another step forward, you matched his step with one backwards until you were pressed against the wall with him towering over you.

"Just - Just watch it, ok? You're knocking over the display" You pointed to the knocked-over items, but he didn't take his eyes off of you, searching over your body until your skin crawled with discomfort.

"Wherever that thief is, give her this", he shoves the letter that had been screwed up in his meaty hands into your chest. You gasp out loud at the pain that rips through your shoulder, knowing it is going to bruise, and you have to look away to hide the tears that had formed as you grasp the letter and watch him leave.

It was only as the bell rang as the male exited that Emerie and Mor rushed into the room with a dagger in hand as they rushed to your side. If it wasn't for the shock and pain in your shoulder, you would have commented and jested how they both looked flustered with dishevelled hair and swollen lips, but this was the last thing on your mind now.

"Who was just here? Why do you smell of fear?" Mor asked as she rested a hand on your arm, looking at you furiously with concern.

"I don't know his name, but he gave me this for you, Emerie." You held out the letter, ignoring how your fingers trembled as she accepted it with a roll of her eyes.

"His name is Prumlos. He works closely with my uncle, and they believe they have rights to my shop. No matter how often I tell them, they keep coming back. Unlucky for me, he trains here in Windhaven and often brings new threatening letters from my extended family. He's a really brute", she pauses as she eyes you closely, "are you ok? Did he harm you in any way?"

Swallowing the thick lump formed in your throat, you attempt to compose yourself, not wishing to seem weak in front of these two strong females. Maybe you'd been sheltered too much throughout your life, but you didn't want to be emotionally broken just because one arrogant male was rude to you, even if your shoulder throbbed terribly.

"He just gave me the letter", you managed to spit out, not looking either female in the eye.

"Bullshit. I can still smell your fear; what did he do?" Mor demanded, stepping closer.

"Nothing! I mean, he was just an arrogant male and just wanted to scare me. I'm fine, really. But could we go, please? Sorry, I know we've only just arrived. Maybe I can wait for you in the High Lord's mother's home, Mor? I just need to be shown the way". You held your breath, waiting for Mor to answer, hoping she didn't try to question you further, but thankfully, she agreed.

"I'm sorry you've been shaken up; I hope it hasn't deterred you from coming to visit me every so often," Emerie smiled gently while holding your hand.

Thanking her, you and Mor left the store and began walking down the street. "Are you sure you're ok? I can see you're still shaken up; talk to me, Little star", Mor asks a couple of silent minutes later and hearing the nickname the inner circle had named you from a child finally brought a smile to your face.

But then Mor tried to link her arm through yours, and you couldn't help but flinch as the movement caused the pain in your shoulder to worsen. Mor noticed and stopped abruptly, turning you towards her, "He did hurt you, didn't he? Tell me so I can go and deal with him".

"No! Please, Mor, can we just go? You know I hate violence".

"Do you want me to go and find Nyx?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"No!" you say urgently, looking up at her with wide eyes, "Please don't, you know how he'd react. I just want to go to Rhys' mother's home and forget about the day. I'll speak to Nyx another time".

With great reluctance, Mor nods, and the two of you continue the walk back to the home. Once inside and next to the fire, you could finally stop and relax, especially as Mor offered you a hefty glass of wine to help your nerves.

After half an hour of sipping away at the absurdly expensive win, shoes off and feet tucked beneath you, Mor suddenly sat up further in her seat with a smile, informing you, "You're about to be a very happy female".

You're confused by her statement, but then you feel it: the connection in your heart is strengthening, like the missing piece to you was suddenly warming and filling in. The front door opened, and Feyre and Rhys walked in first, followed by Cassian and Nyx.

You're half aware of Cassian's joyful greeting: "Ah, Little star! You've finally come to join the camps. We'll have you trained in no time".

You stand quickly, eyes only on Nyx as he stands in the doorway, not breathing as he stares only at you. One second, you're near the table, and the next, you're running full speed towards him, sliding across the wooden floor with your socks, not that you care as you're suddenly in his arms.

The pain had diminished the second you were reunited with him. All you cared about was breathing him in, the relaxing scents of spice and lavender, the strength of his arms as they wrapped around your waist, keeping you up off of your feet that had tucked around his hips. Your fingers clenched into curling hair at the nape of his neck, not caring that it was sweaty from where he'd been training. He could be covered in mud, and you would have jumped into his arms with as much enthusiasm.

The others in the room pretended to look busy as he continued to hold you, his face moving into the nape of his neck, and he took a deep breath, breathing in your scents. Nyx's voice was like dark silk, wrapping around you entirely as he said, "I knew you were here. I mean, I thought I was losing my mind; an hour ago, the tightness in my chest eased".

You couldn't help but giggle, kissing his cheek, "That was me; I arrived about an hour ago". Pulling back in his arms, the back of your fingers caressed against his cheek, admiring the light stubble that had grown since you'd last seen him. "I like this", you admire.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his thumbs stroking circles from where he still held up your body.

"I came to see my best friend, of course", you claimed, watching his handsome features as his smile grew to a grin, the dimple in his cheek deepening beneath your thumb. "Yes, I came to see my best friend Emerie", you joked as Nyx rolled his crystal blue eyes before moving his face back to nuzzle against your jaw.

"I've missed you", he mumbles, not caring that you both had an audience and your heart clenched tighter at the need in his voice.

"I've missed you too, more than you could ever know".

"If you two aren't mates, I'll eat my trousers", Cassian quips sarcastically over the rim of his glass of wine. Mor slaps his arm for interrupting as you're lowered back to the floor by Nyx, but you still lean on the tip of your toes, pushing your chest against his to remain close.

Admiring the passionate way Nyx is searching your face, you turn to grin as Cass is over your shoulder when the sudden deathly shift in the air has you freezing. The faelights casting a golden glow across the house dimmed as the room became cold, the fire extinguishing in a single breath.

Your head spins as you turn back to Nyx, who is staring at the opening of your shirt beneath your neck.

"What's that mark?" Nyx asked, his voice a terrifying tone you'd only heard on a handful of occasions. Instinctively, you were stepping back, but his gentle hand grabbed yours, keeping you close. You can sense his family moving closer, and Nyx doesn't wait for you to answer his question. He carefully releases your hand and pushes aside the material of your blouse until your shoulder is exposed.

Glancing down, you could see now that where Prumlos had shoved the letter into your shoulder earlier had now formed a deep purple bruise. Nyx leans forward, sniffs your skin, and his spine instantly stiffens.

"Who did that to you?" he asks, voice thick with venom and anger.

You're unable to give him an answer as Mor is suddenly by your side, holding open your shirt to stare at the injury as she gasps, "I asked if he hurt you!"

"He?!" Nyx growls, looking between Mor and you.

Attempting to take a step away from both of them, you try and calm the energy, sensing it is escalating to a level that could not be returned from. It wasn't that Nyx was scaring you; it was quite the opposite, as his protection made you feel safe; you were just frightened that he would do something he couldn't undo and start a war within the camps.

"I'm fine; it doesn't even hurt anymore" you tried to reason, but that only made Nyx breathe heavily out of his nose as he turned to Mor.

"Who did this? Give me his name. Tell me right now, Morrigan!"

Thankfully, Mor didn't answer immediately and glanced at you from the corner of your eye, knowing that you didn't want to cause a fuss, so she didn't respond immediately, which only frustrated Nyx more in his crusade for revenge. "This is why you shouldn't have bought her here! I told you on multiple occasions that it wasn't safe!"

"Nyx, you need to take a breath; maybe you and your father should go outside and release some of that energy" Feyre tried to reason with him, stepping closer, but it was useless; Nyx was like a boiling pot of deathly anger. Shadows pulsed and darkened around him, travelling up the length of his muscular arms and around his neck. Rhys and Cassian finally began to step forward, moving into a warrior stance between Mor, Feyre and Nyx, even attempting to urge you behind them, but there was no way you were being forced away from Nyx.

Stepping toe to toe with him, your fingers moved back to cradling his face, forcing his now icey eyes onto you, and for a fraction of a second, he seemed calmer. "Nyx, please listen to me, I'm fine. Everything is ok, it was just-"

You were unable to finish your sentence because his knees buckled, and he audibly gulped down air as all signs of anger and pain disappeared from his eyes and tears lined the edges. "Nyx?"

"Mate", he whispers in awe, leaning his forehead against yours as his arms come around your waist, holding you delicately.

You could feel it, too, like an elastic band was tied around your heart, strengthening with each passing second. "I can feel it too"," you confirmed with glee, tears beginning to fill your eyes with the sudden realisation of what was happening. You and Nyx were mates. The Cauldron had blessed you both; even after waiting what felt like a lifeline for the bond to confirm itself, you both knew it had only been a matter of time. The relief was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before.

"Finally!" Cassian cheered, loosening his warrior stance to return to his glass of wine, raising it towards where you and Nyx stood in the entryway. "Welcome to the family, Little Star!"

You grin up tearfully towards Nyx, who in turn returns the joy, but that all disappears as the anger and rage return full force as he growls, "Someone hurt my mate". Moving away from you, he faces Mor and demands, "Tell me his name, Mor, I know you know it. Don't make me find it out".

Morrigan shifts, rolling her shoulders back as she looks down at Nyx, which is an incredible feat considering the fact that he is considerably taller than her. "Are you threatening me, Nyx??

"He hurt my mate!" he bellows at her, but she doesn't so much as flinch as she shifts her gaze to you, looking like she's contemplating a hundred thoughts at once. Then, without looking away, she confirms the man's name.

"Prumlos".

Nyx vanishes before you have time to stop him, and seconds pass before the ground trembles and shakes the home's foundation.

"No! I didn't want violence! Why did you tell him, Mor?!" you gawped at the blond, who didn't look remotely sorry.

As Rhysand grabs Cassian and winnows away, Mor steps closer with Feyre at her side. "I told him because we protect our own. Not only has he hurt you, but he's also threatening Emerie; he deserves what's coming to him. In fact, I shouldn't have faltered with telling Nyx, that is my only regret".

You feel defeated and stare at your feet with a thousand thoughts dizzying your mind. Was Nyx ok? Was he hurt? When would he come back? He was your mate. Nyx was YOUR mate.

A pair of brown leather boots entered your vision as Feyre stepped close, wrapping an arm carefully over your not-injured shoulder as she directed you towards the table, kissing your cheek as she moved, "Welcome to the family, properly that is. You've always been one of us, Little Star. Now, why don't you take a seat and I'll see if we have any healing ointments remaining in the cupboards".

Thankfully, Feyre had found a purple ointment that had already worked enough that the pain in your shoulder was considerably less, and the colour of the bruising was now a subtle yellow. Nibbling nervously on the corner of your thumb as you awaited your mate's return, it finally dawned on you. "Wait, how am I supposed to do this? Aren't mates supposed to have a ceremony or something?"

"There can be a ceremony where you offer Nyx some food; we can organise it once we return to Velaris if you'd like? Or if you'd rather not wait, you could offer him food whenever you'd like", Feyre explained warmly with a gentle smile that matched Nyx's.

"I don't think I want to wait. We've all known we would be mates, and waiting for this bond has been slow, so I don't want to wait to accept his bond.

"Why don't you go and have a look in the kitchen? There might be something here", Mor encouraged with a nod towards the back of the house.

You scoured the kitchen cupboards for any sort of food, but with the house having not been in proper use for years, there was nothing except some stale bread on the kitchen table with suspicious-looking green mould on the edges. Even after ripping away the discoloured sections of the bread, you still eyed it with uncertainty.

Stepping out of the kitchen and returning to the dining area, you were surprised to find that Mor and Feyre had gone, and Nyx now stood calmly in the centre of the room, his eyes watching your every breath.

"Where did everyone go?" you ask, trying to fill the thick tension with some noise.

Nyx smiled, not enough to show his dimple but enough to have your shoulders dropping with ease as he stated, "I don't care where they've gone, as long as you remain". Those blazing eyes lowered to your hands as he sucked in a powerful breath as he looked at the stale bread that you were still holding.

As he took several steps forward, you couldn't help but ask, "What did you do to him?"

"What he deserved". There wasn't a speck of blood on his leathery uniform. "What are you doing with that bread?" he asked in a low voice.

You're unsure why you're so nervous when you answer, "Oh, um. It was meant to be for you. I can't find anything else for the mating bond, but it's stale and has mould over it. Maybe I can find a little shop here to find some proper food and serve that to you- NYX!"

Closing the gap between you, he takes the bread out of your hands and, without taking his eyes off of yours, begins to chew the bread that was so clearly dry and stale as he chewed for considerably longer than he should have.

As he finally swallows, you're reaching up for him, resting your hands on his chest and feeling the racing of his heart beneath your palms. "You're my mate", you breathe in awe, forgetting everything that had happened that day and only focusing on the man before you.

"I am. I'm yours, and you're mine", he states with as much wonderment as you felt in your soul.

Grinning up at him, you remind him, "Forever. You're mine forever". The tension beneath your fingers eases as he takes a steadying breath, and then his eyes lower to the edges of your blouse.

You watch with bated breath as he checks the mostly healed bruise. "I'm sorry if I frightened you earlier".

"Nyx, you could never frighten me, " you reassure and tip a finger beneath his chin so that he has to look at your face, not the injury.

"I've always wanted to keep you safe. Seeing that bruise on you today, I was ready to destroy the world to find out who harmed you".

"I know". You watch as he nuzzles into your palm, kissing the centre as you try to lighten the mood, "You're very intense, you know that, right" you say with a light laugh.

Nyx grins, that precious dimple capturing your attention. "I'm more than intense; I'm obsessed. I've been obsessed for years, and now, there's no escaping me" he chuckles as his hand cups around the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, your arms and legs wrapping around his firm body.

"I thought it was just me with the obsession", you retort whilst curling your fingers into his hair once more. Leaning your forehead against him, you both just breathe the other in, eyes closed and hearing the hearts beating as one.

"There hasn't been a second since you entered my life where I haven't wanted you to be by my side. I think I always knew, even when we were children. And now, you're mine".

"Officially", you joke with a giggle, squeezing your arms and legs more firmly around him.

"Officially, my mate", he agrees and then sighs, balancing your weight on one arm so that he could move aside your blouse and kiss the lightening bruise. "I don't want you to come back here again if you can help it. I don't trust these males".

"That's fine with me. I don't particularly want to return, no matter how lovely Emerie's shop is. I don't know how you can stand to be here, let alone train with them", you agreed wholeheartedly.

"You deserve to be in nice and happy places like Velaris, and I can deal with dreadful places like this. It's in my blood, after all". Nyx took a moment to admire your beauty before he stepped forward and winnowed the two of you into his bedroom in the River House in Velaris. "Finally back where we both belong. Now, you're wearing too many clothing articles".

"Wait, don't you have training?" you ask in confusion.

"Not anymore. They'll have to come here and fight me to drag me back to that shit hole tonight. I have other plans now anyway". As he finished talking, he gently eased you onto the navy silk sheets of his bed, resting his arm next to your head as he looked down at you.

You giggle as his hair falls into his face. Reaching up, you pushed the dark curls back to see him grinning at you with just as much glee. "Mmm, I love that sound", he admires before lowering his face to the junction of your neck, his lips pressing against the sensitive area, causing a shiver to burst over your skin.

"What sound?" you ask in a daze.

"You laughing. Your happiness. It's the best sound in the world", he groans as his lips travel up the slope of your neck before teasing your earlobe.

"You're being extra soppy today, Nyx", you say halfheartedly, secretly loving how open he was with his emotions.

However, the man above you freezes, his mouth next to your ear as he asks, "Say that again".

You know exactly which word he wanted you to repeat as you sigh happily, close your eyes and say, "Nyx".

He moans deeply, his hips rutting into the bed with a thrust as a shiver shakes his large frame. "Again," he asks as he lowers his hands to palm your breasts through your blouse.

It was your turn to sigh before whispering, "Nyx".

He lowers his body, kissing down your sternum as he unbuttons the material, exposing your bra and soft skin to him. Your fingers continue to weave through his hair, subtly scratching against his scalp as he doesn't stop on his journey lower. Next, he removes your jeans and socks until all that remains is your underwear.

He appeared to be a man possessed as he stared at you beneath him, biting your lip in need. With an easy snap of his fingers, he tore through the centre of your bra and pushed the useless straps off of your shoulders and down your arms and then repeated the tearing with your underwear.

Nyx utterly admired every inch of your body, his eyes full of emotions and desires. He seemed conflicted, though, unsure whether to spend his sweet time kissing and tasting every inch of your body. Still, as you spread your legs and directed him where you truly wanted him, he growled lowly, lowering his body until he kneeled next to the bed, arms wrapped around your thighs and feasted between your legs.

"Nyx!" you cried out, eyes closing and back arching from the stimulation.

The two of you had been intimate for years, both losing your virginities together and exploring each other's bodies; you knew one another better than yourselves. Nyx liked to show this off as he perfectly flicked his tongue and held you firmly with his hands; you were begging in a matter of seconds. The man bringing you closer and closer to the edge chuckled as he felt you tremble with restraint, knowing he was only doing enough to keep you on the very brink, loving the desperate little cries you released until it was all too much, and you cried out, "Please! Nyx!"

Sucking on your clit was all that he needed to do to have you spiralling into euphoric bliss. Your thighs trembled as they squeezed around his head, but he would happily be suffocated between your legs, so let the warmth of the press into his cheeks until you'd calmed down enough to relax the muscles.

Breathlessly, you looked down your body to where he was grinning, kissing the top of your pubis before licking his shiny lips.

"You're wearing too many clothes". The armour he was wearing vanished in a flicker of magic. Sitting up on the bed, your hands wound around his toned shoulders, feeling the muscle ripple and move beneath as you tugged him closer and kissed him with all the desperation you could muster.

Both of you were moving with such urgency that your emotions were overwhelmed, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cried out the words, "Mine!" repeatedly. You'd heard of the frenzy after a mating bond is accepted, but you never anticipated it to feel this chaotic. You needed every single inch of him, wanted to taste his body, feel the warmth of his skin, and hear the moans from between his lips. There was too much to do, and your brain was engulfed with the need to do everything simultaneously.

Gripping onto his arms, you pulled Nyx so that he was now the one lying in the centre of the bed as you moved to straddle over his waist. With your lips still desperately moving together, tongue caressing and deepening into each other's mouths, your hands finally grasped around the thick, veiny length of your mate.

During any other intimate moment, you would have admired the sheer size of him or the beautiful sensation of him throbbing between your fingers, but right now, all you were desperate to do was give him pleasure.

Squeezing your fingers more firmly around the shaft, you moved up and down, using your thumb to smear the precum over the head. He shivered at the touch, his abs tightening and flexing as he groaned in pleasure.

"Need to be inside of you", he pleaded against your lips. You didn't need to tell twice as you roused high on your knees and direct the tip of his cock towards your drenched hole. You only gave yourself a second to adjust to the sheer size of him before you were rotating your hips and beginning to rock back and forth with increasing speed.

Nyx's arms wrapped around your spine, reaching to grasp onto the back of your shoulder so he had a good foundation to hold and fuck his hips up in time to meet yours. The firmness of his strokes had you seeing stars with how deep he felt. You were utterly consumed by Nyx.

The two of you were fucking each other with such a bruising pace that all you could do was dig your nails into his chest and ride him like your life depended on it. It was only a matter of minutes until you were coming, squeezing your walls tightly around his cock until he, too, was tipping his head back and grunting your name with his own pleasure.

You all but collapsed on top of his chest, greedily sucking in air that smelled entirely of him, and you couldn't get enough. It seemed he couldn't for you either as you continued to feel his hardness within you, not softening even after his orgasm.

Before long, with your face still plastered to his sweaty chest, your hips began to roll, his cock nudging deep inside of you.

"I can't fucking get enough of you", you gasp as he throbbed within you.

Nyx rolled the two of you over, so now he was on top, your legs repositioned so that they were against his shoulders, and you were all but bent in half, the angle meaning he could fuck even deeper.

"Yes! Nyx, please don't stop!" you scream, reaching over his shoulders and stroking the sensitive membrane of his wings, watching them flare behind his back.

"Say it", he begs, his eyes glazed whilst looking down at you.

"Nyx!"

"Yes! Say you're mine!"

"I'm yours!" Nyx moves harder, his hand slipping down your legs until his thumb could circle your clit.

"That's right", he grunts between thrusts, "And I'm yours. Forever".

You orgasm so hard you're sure you black out for a couple of seconds because, in the next breath, Nyx is beside you, spooning himself around you, kissing along your collarbones and stroking his palm down your stomach.

"I didn't go too hard on you, did I?" he asks with a rough voice.

You smile softly whilst reaching up to scratch your nails behind his ear, tucking the curls behind his pointed ears, careful not to snag the strands on the multiple silver hoops in his ear. "Not at all, I loved every second".

Nyx grinned, and the starlight that usually glowed in his eyes returned for the first time that day, and he was finally at ease.

"I can't believe you ate that stale bread", you say, laughing at the memory.

"I would have eaten the mould too if you'd given it to me. Whatever food you gave me, I would have accepted it with need in my heart". Those perfect lips of his began to kiss across your cheek and down your throat; however, now that the madness of needing to have sex with him had calmed for a moment, you could actually look him over properly, and that's when you noticed the doting of bruises over his arms and chest, all in different stages of healing.

You tense and ask urgently, "Were these from him? Earlier in the day, I mean?"

Nyx moves away from kissing your throat to look at what you're referring to, shaking his head and casually explaining, "No, they're from training. That asshole didn't have time to make a move against me before I-". You'd lost the ability to hear anything further as a fire burned so thoroughly throughout your soul that it momentarily stole your breath. Red burning anger pulsed in your soul, unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

Before a coherent thought could drift through your mind, you're pushing away from Nyx and climbing out of bed on unsteady legs. Needing to half crawl on the floor before righting your posture, you marched towards his bedroom door.

"Woah, Little Star", Nyx is suddenly in front of you, blocking your exit as he holds his hands up.

You try and push past him, but he just carefully eases you away from the door, "Let me past!" you shout in frustration, trying to wiggle past him.

"I don't think so", he responds gently and calmly.

"Nyx, let me out of this house!" You don't get far through as he moves to press your body against the wooden door.

"And what exactly do you think you're going to do?"

Baring your teeth at him over your shoulder, you continued trying to get out of his hold. "I'll kill everyone who harmed you!"

"Oh really?" Nnyx says lightheartedly and with a slight chortle. "You'll kill them? Miss' I despise violence'?"

You turn around so that you're chest to chest with Nyx, looking up at his with eyes so full of fury he actually bulked and softened his laughter. "Whoever hurt you doesn't deserve to live! They hurt you. My mate. MY MATE. They won't live to see the night!"

Nyx wasn't sure how to calm you down, having never seen you with such anger pulsing through your veins before, but he did what he thought was best: distract you. His fingers clutched desperately into your hair as his mouth pressed against yours firmly enough to cause bruises.

You fight and push against him at first, but then thoughts of anger and pain dissolve into lust and need as you're once more desperately grabbing him. Tearing your mouth away, you kiss down his throat, tasting the salty spice of his natural scent.

"These feelings, they will pass", Nyx reassures as he closes his eyes, thoughts entirely on your mouth as you close your lips around his nipple, biting the sensitive bud.

"So you get to have revenge on someone that wrong me, but I don't get to do the same for you?" you ask whilst looking up at him through your lashes, your nails scratching down his abs before grabbing his once more hardening cock.

He releases another long breath, trying to keep his composure as he thrusts into your palm. "I'm saying that I've had a lifetime of training, and taking care of one pathetic asshole was light work. The mating bond is the intense anger you're feeling, protecting my pride. Everything is so new and fresh, but it will pass Little Star. You'll understand that these bruises were all part of my training in a couple of hours. Everyone has similar marks, making the training brutal and volatile. So this feeling, it will pass. Anyway, you are not leaving this room naked with my cum still dripping down my thighs".

You're finally beginning to relax as your harsh touches soften until you're gently cupping his shaft and looking up at him sheepishly, "I thought you would have liked it if everyone got to see who I belonged to?"

Turning on the spot, you rested your hot cheek against the cool wood of the door and began to grind your arse against his cock, "Mmm, don't tempt me", he growls against the side of your face as he moves closer, bending his knees so he could position his cock into your cunt.

Nyx proceeds to fuck you so hard against the door that it begins to crack down the centre. But neither of you stopped for hours. Not until you were both thoroughly exhausted that neither could stand.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips as you teeter on unconsciousness's edge.

"I love you too", you tiredly say back, eyes drooping, and the darkness of sleep welcomed you into its abyss.

#nyx #nyx archeron #nyx acotar #nyx smut #nyx x reader #nyx acotar smut #nyx acotar x reader #acotar smut #acotar #mine*

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pizzaapeteer · 22 days

Text

A Night at the Museum

Blaise Zabini x F reader/pure fluff - 1.4k. This is a little special request fic for my sweet friend @thatdammchickennugget a very delayed birthday post. Where your boyfriend Blaise takes you for your birthday to your favourite place. Pretty divider found here.

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The bustling city of London nightlife rushes past you as the car pulls to a halt, the darkness of the window conceals the reveal of your location. You look over at Blaise sitting beside you, his hand enveloping yours, giving it a gentle squeeze and a soft smile before he exits the car.

Blaise hadn’t let a word slip on what the plans for your birthday were, keeping it a complete surprise. Though you felt you already knew and you hated how you instantly felt disappointed. You had struggled to not show your dismay when all day there had been no mentions of leaving the castle. The only thing you'd asked for was a visit to see the dinosaur exhibit at the National History Museum.

When Blaise had left out a gorgeous violet dress instructing you to be ready by seven, you only felt your heart plummet more at the thought of finishing your birthday with just a dinner. You were grateful nethertheless, but it stung thinking that Blaise had forgotten your wishes.

Exiting the car, you thank the chauffeur as they hold the door for you, Blaise instantly appearing by your side, looping your arm with his. As your eyes gaze lovingly upwards, you drink in how bloody delicious Blaise looks in his suit. Never one to shy away from an opportunity of embellishment for any occasion, making sure he matched his tie with the colour of your dress. When his oh-so pretty brown eyes meet yours, you feel stupid for thinking so badly of his decisions, realising you can’t really complain with such pleasant company.

As you walk with him, you turn your attention away from Blaise and take in the sight before you, a whirlwind of emotions hitting you. Your face contorts into a mix of delight and surprise when you realize you're standing outside the Museum. You grin excitedly, hearing Blaise chuckle at your adorable reaction. Before your face falls in confusion, “What are we doing here now? Isn’t it closed?”

Blaise rolls his eyes playfully, scoffing, “Come on now, it’s me. I have connections.” He then gives you a delectable grin, leading you up the grand stairs towards the entrance. His heart warms seeing how your eyes beam with warmth, a bubble of energy exploding out of you. His brow raises, feigning fake hurt as he adds, “Didn’t think I’d forget, did you, sweetheart?”

A deep chuckle leaves his lips, seeing your guilty expression, his eyes zoning in on how you bite your lip sheepishly. Your shoulders pull, shrugging, as you squeeze his arm softly. A sweet smile convulsing from your previous expression, “Oops, maybe, but I’m so glad we’re here!” Blaise shakes his head, muttering at your lack of faith in him, teasing you softly, “How dare you doubt me.” His hands squeeze your waist, enticing a squeal of laughter bellowing out of you at the ticklish feeling.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” your words fall between laughs. "Will a kiss make you forgive me?” His hands fall from your waist at your offer, manoeuvring to take hold, caressing your face. He’s not one to ever turn down a kiss from you, and within seconds, his lips are on yours. Passion flushes through you at the quick but heated kiss, your lips not seeming to want to leave his.

His eyes gleamed, relislishing in your eager reaction, “I’d love to keep kissing you till you melt like honey in my arms, but I have waiting plans for us. Come on.”

Blaise loops his arms through yours, guiding you around, allowing the two of you to stop whenever something catches your eye. You’d been to the museum a few times but never had the chance to see the dinosaur exhibit yet. Your excitement levels reach new heights when Blaise leads you into the next room, revealing what you’ve been waiting for.

Your eyes widen and you freeze in your tracks, taking in the magnificent sight of the large Tyrannosaurus Rex skeleton displayed in front of you. You move, leaving Blaise’s side, craning your neck upwards to inspect the 40 feet long bone structure.

Marveling over the incredible skeleton, you stare up brightly with fascination, unable to hold back any ounces of happiness. You’d had a deep love for dinosaurs since you were a child, always dreaming of being able to discover life sized T-Rex bones. A wish that was forced to change to just seeing them up close in a museum after you found out about Hogwarts and witchcraft.

Blaise follows slowly behind you, his hands slipping into his pockets, his eyes never leaving you, watching loving every moment of your reaction. The way your face lit up, unable to contain your giddiness as you gazed up at the dinosaur. Sparks heat within his chest, his love for you growing with every minute. “Wow! It's even bigger than I thought. It’s huge!” wonderment is laced within your words for the extraordinary extinct being.

Blaise chuckles, his hands finding their natural spot on your waist as he stands behind you, “Pretty cool, huh.” He holds back any innuendos, not wanting to ruin the moment for you. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, whispering, “Happy Birthday, beautiful.” Your attention quickly recentered back towards your thoughtful boyfriend.

Turning around in his arms, you grin happily, springing up on your tiptoes to pull him in for a sweet kiss, expressing your gratitude. “Thank you! Thank you! You’re truly the best!”

He laughs at your cute appreciation, leaning down again to press a kiss to your forehead. “Come on, there's still more to see.”

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Blaise squeezes your hand gently, enjoying the warmth that spreads from your touch, his eyes twinkling at you still fanning over his present. His eyes soften, gazing at you with adoration, smiling lovingly. “Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?”

Warm hints of chocolate fill your vision, your face flushing with heat as you grin back at him. “You have, but I'll never turn down a compliment from someone as handsome as you.” Blaise, being the gentleman he is, hadn’t even let you finish doing your hair before he was throwing compliment after compliment at you.

As you finish your meal, you sit relaxed once again, unable to stop switching your gaze between marveling at the skeleton and your charming boyfriend. It was the perfect evening, and one of your best birthdays yet. The quietness of the museum never felt eerie, the space easily filled with wholesome conversation shared between the two of you.

Blaise stands suddenly, checking the surroundings for any of the attending staff. Once he’s sure it's clear, he reaches his hand out for you. “Come on, I have one last surprise.” Startled by the sudden change of pace, your brows furrow as you accept his hand, being pulled gently behind him.

Following behind Blaise, your curiosity peaks as he leads the two of you to a more secluded section of the museum. Cheeky thoughts spur through your mind, heat rushing up at what you could be doing. The dark room quickly is illuminated and you see Blaise raise his wand, enticing a gasp from you. “Put that away!” your eyes frantically search around for any muggles as you attempt to lower his wand.

He chuckles, swatting your hands softly. “Trust me, woman.” With a flick of his wand, a small burst of light appears and you turn slowly at the sound of cracking bones. Having been too busy caught up in Blaise’s illegal actions, you hadn’t noticed where you now stood.

Your eyes widening at the scene of a tiny baby fossilised Brontosaurus moving. The small thing stretches its long neck, the bones rattling, and it releases a loud coo. Your hands fly over your mouth in excitement as you squeeze Blaise’s arm.

“What the heck this is so cool!” Giggling all worry about muggles thrown out the window as you grin, caught up in the amazement and the power of magic.

Blaise leans over, kissing your head, his arm pulling you into his hard body for a quick embrace. He whispers, “You got two minutes before the spell wears off. I’ll distract the muggles.” He turns to leave, giving you a small wink, before he shuts the door, leaving you alone with your special gift.

masterlist

#Blaise Zabini #Blaise Zabini fluff #Blaise Zabini blurb #blaise zabini imagine #Blaise Zabini x reader #blaise zabini #blaise zabini x female reader #slytherin boys #ILY thatdamnchickennugget #happy birthday sweet girl

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honeypiehotchner · 1 year

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gold star (Hotch x Teacher!Reader) -- one shot

Been working on this one for a hot minute oops. Just wanted to say thank y’all for being patient with me always (and we literally hit 5.7k followers even while I’ve been so inactive???? what????). Here’s a longgg dose of fluffy angst <33

Edit: I’m a dumbass and queued this for the wrong day

Summary: You’re Jack’s teacher and Aaron is basically your nemesis. Until he’s not. (Kinda enemies to lovers?)

Warnings: angst! talks of parent death, therapy, bad parenting/emotional neglect, y’know the works. Lots of fluff tho to make up for it. And a happy ending!

WC: ...5.7k-ish

I love my job. I love my job. If you say it enough, you’ll believe it. I love my job. You glance at the clock and see your next parent is late. I love my job.

You do love your job, you really do. What you hate are parent-teacher conferences that you’re required to do. Especially when the parent is late. After having to reschedule at the last minute. Twice.

If you didn’t have a genuine concern to discuss with Jack’s father, then you wouldn’t be here still. But alas, you care for Jack more than your annoyance at his father.

Jack Hotchner is a sweet kid. Genuinely wonderful. After his mom’s sudden death a few years ago, everyone worried about him. You’re friends with Julia, who was his kindergarten teacher just a few months after it occurred. Despite being a teacher for almost a decade that year, Julia had never encountered this situation, so she looked to you for help. You lost your mom when you were in first grade, so you were able to give her more helpful tips that actually work.

Now, you have the pleasure of having Jack in your second grade classroom and he truly is an amazing student. You only wish you could share this information with his father who seems to be on another plane of existence every goddamn--

A knock on your classroom door frame makes you jump.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron Hotchner rushes out, quickly dropping his hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine, Mr. Hotchner,” you say, standing up from your desk chair, putting on a smile. “Come on in.”

“Thanks, and please, it’s Aaron,” he smiles sheepishly, walking over. He towers over the tiny desks as he maneuvers past them to yours. He sticks out his hand for you to shake. He has a firm grip, but his hands are soft. “I’m sorry I’m so late. I got caught up at work--”

“I figured,” you reply, sitting back down. You pull up your laptop and begin typing in your password. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to make this quick. I should’ve left an hour ago.”

“Oh, sorry, am I that late?” he flicks his arm to look at his watch. He sighs. “I apologize.”

You hum. “Our conference was scheduled for 4:15.” You glance down at the clock on your screen. “It’s almost six.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says again. “Would it be better to reschedule?”

“Nope,” you shake your head. “You’re already here.” And if you reschedule, then this might happen again, so you’d rather do this now while you’ve got him here. “Fortunately, Jack is doing really well. He’s struggling a little with math, but he’s not the only one, and we’re working on it. He’s made a few friends, I know we discussed that last time. He’s breaking out of his shell, I think.”

“That’s good,” Aaron says, smiling a little. “That’s really good to hear.”

“Is he doing any extracurriculars?” you ask. Last time, when you voiced your concerns to Aaron about his son being a little too quiet and shy, you suggested asking if he’d like to do a sport, or play an instrument.

“He’s doing soccer,” Aaron says.

Your eyes widen. “Oh!”

“You look surprised,” he presses.

“I guess I didn’t expect Jack to…want to do a sport,” you shrug, checking your notes for the conference to stall.

What you really wanted to say is that you didn’t expect Aaron to listen to you. Given his track record, it seemed highly unlikely that he’d follow through and actually ask his son about trying a sport, let alone go through with signing him up for one.

“Do you have any questions for me?” you ask, closing your laptop lid. Aaron has been studying your face in this lull of silence, and it’s unnerving.

“I don’t think so,” he finally says.

“Okay,” you nod, not surprised. “I did have one more thing. I know I said Jack is breaking out of his shell, and he is, but he seems…down. Is something going on at home?”

Aaron sighs. “It’s getting closer to the anniversary of his mom’s death.”

That tugs on your heart. “Oh, I see. Alright.” You pause. “Uh-- If you don’t mind me asking, is he seeing a counselor or a therapist or anything?”

“He’s not, not currently,” Aaron says.

You blink. You shouldn’t really be surprised, but you are. “Has he at all since his mom’s death?”

“Briefly, right after she died.”

“Okay.” You clear your throat. You cannot yell at a parent. That’s unprofessional. “I know it’s not my place, but I’d highly suggest finding him someone. Especially right now as the anniversary is getting closer, and as Jack gets older. I would suggest our school counselor, but I think Jack would do better with someone better equipped for his situation.”

Aaron stares at you, nodding slowly. “Alright.”

You lean over and open a drawer, grabbing the handout specifically for times like these. Given the area the school is in, parents are typically able to pay for services like these, and are more willing. You know it’s because they don’t have the time to deal with their children’s emotions, so they pawn them off on someone else, and claim it as a good deed.

In a way, you’re grateful the children are able to receive help that you didn’t because your dad couldn’t afford it. You just wish the kids also received support from their family, not just from doctors.

“Here’s a list of great pediatric psychiatrists and therapists in the area.” You hand Aaron the packet and he takes it gently, his expression unreadable. Parents are always so weirdly defensive about this. “Many of our students see someone from that list, so I trust that one will be a good fit for Jack. If you want some help narrowing it down, I can help.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “I’ll look into this.”

I hope so, you want to say, but he doesn’t sound too sincere. “Okay,” you smile softly instead. “That’s all I have, unless you have any other questions?”

He shakes his head. “No, I think-- I think this is good.”

“Alright, well,” you pause, opening Jack’s folder. “I just need you to sign here, so the school knows we met.” You slide the form and a pen across the table.

Aaron signs swiftly, a signature born from frequent piles of paperwork. You know he does something in the government, you’re just not sure what. Nearly every parent here works in the government, though, so that’s not a remarkable conclusion to have made.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the signed form and sliding it back into Jack’s folder. “I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“You too,” Aaron says, standing up to shake your hand again. He’s so formal, you almost forget. He clutches the packet in his free hand, and you wonder if it’ll end up in the recycling bin at the end of the hall.

After shaking your hand, Aaron apologizes again for his tardiness, and then leaves your classroom. The clock on the wall says it’s just past six. A record for one of the latest nights you’ve been here.

Gathering your things, you do some last minute checks around the classroom before heading out, locking the door behind you.

As you reach the exit doors at the end of the hall, you peer into the trash and recycling bins. Both are empty, no signs of your pediatric psychiatrists packet.

At least that’s a win.

+++

A month or so later, you’re waking up early to go to a soccer game. If it weren’t for your kids asking you (loudly and enthusiastically) to come to their game, then you wouldn’t be awake right now on a Saturday.

Julia, at least, is coming with you, and so is Kate, a fellow second grade teacher whose classroom is across from yours. Julia is coming to see Jack, and Kate also has a few students who asked her to come.

The three of you stop for coffee before going to the park where the soccer games are held. Walking across the field, you find an empty space on the bleachers and sit down, looking around for your kiddos.

To your complete and utter surprise, you spot Aaron Hotchner -- of all parents.

You quickly avert your eyes, looking around some more. You haven’t seen or spoken to Aaron since the parent-teacher conference as Jack is usually picked up and dropped off by his Aunt Jessica. Jack has seemed a little more present and happy, but you have no idea if that means that Aaron actually sought help for his son.

Even more embarrassing, you’ve worried about your job since that conference. It’s always a gamble, offering parents advice. You never know what will cross a line and equal an angry phone call to the principal followed by a swift withdrawal of their child from your class. Not every parent has always been so keen on your attention to your students’ emotional wellbeing.

“Don’t look, but one of the dads cannot keep his eyes off of you,” Julia whispers.

“Which one?” Kate asks, then she spots him. “Oh, him-- He’s tall. Wait, is he…?”

You glance over and sure enough, the one in question is Aaron. He can’t tell that you’ve looked at him, though, thanks to your sunglasses. “That’s Jack’s dad,” you say, looking away again.

“I knew he looked familiar,” Julia murmurs. “I’m not used to him out of the suit. His hair is longer too, isn’t it?”

“Why would I know?” you counter, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Is he the one you mouthed off to?” Kate asks, nudging your arm.

You scoff defensively, “I didn’t mouth off--”

“She told him to put his son in therapy,” Julia explains with a prideful smirk. “Rightfully so, too. I would’ve done the same if I ever saw him.”

“Damn,” Kate chuckles. “Let’s hope that he took your advice.”

“And that he isn’t pissed at me for it,” you mutter. “I haven’t heard anything since.”

Kate and Julia share a look before Julia says, “He’s definitely not mad.”

Finally, you give yourself the chance to look over at him, and to let him see you looking.

You’ll admit, it is weird seeing him out of the suit, let alone in short sleeves. You’ve never seen his arms. They’re…nice. Muscular, more than you expected. Not that you’ve wondered about his arms, though. Or any part of him. Because he’s Jack’s dad, so you should not be thinking about him this way.

Still, you indulge, just for this moment. He keeps your eyes only for a minute before his attention is drawn elsewhere to the screaming kids practicing their warmups (if that’s what those can be called). He’s smiling from ear to ear, something you’ve never seen. The tiny smiles you managed out of him during conferences hardly ever looked genuine. This, though, this one is.

“You should talk to him,” Julia whispers, nearly scaring you shitless. You completely forgot where you were for a minute.

“No,” you shake your head, tearing your eyes away. “That’s practically asking for him to yell at me.”

“He won’t do that,” Julia chides.

“Well, I don’t know,” Kate grimaces. “Parents are finicky. I got yelled at last year by one who I thought was the sweetest ever. Until her kid didn’t pass a science test.”

“See?” you say, gesturing to Kate. “We have no idea what he’ll be like.”

“Besides that he’s looking at you again,” Julia says. “So he’s clearly interested in talking to you.”

“Then he can walk over here himself.”

Julia raises her eyebrows, shrugging. “Be careful what you wish for.”

You roll your eyes. Aaron is too busy with the kids and their game is about to start, so there’s no way he’ll walk over. Even if you speak after, Jack will be with him, so nothing will be said. It’s fine.

+++

Aaron’s mouth is dry. He feels like he forgot how to breathe properly.

He didn’t know you’d be here, and here you are. Beautiful. Except he shouldn’t think that, because you’re his son’s teacher. It’s inappropriate. But the way the sun hits your skin…beautiful. You’re beautiful.

He needs to focus. He’s supposed to be coaching the kids, not gawking at a teacher like some idiot.

To make matters worse, Rossi notices, and only silently raises his eyebrows.

Aaron told Rossi about your parent-teacher conference, and how he should’ve put Jack in therapy sooner -- along with himself. Rossi asked him if he thanked you for your advice, but Aaron never found the right time. He half-heartedly thanked you at the conference, but it wasn’t as genuine as it should’ve been.

He meant to call you, or send an email, but he never did. Truthfully, he’s been terrified. He feels incredibly stupid to have not gotten Jack help sooner, and even more stupid that he finds you as attractive as he does. Can he be any worse of a person, seriously?

And now, you’re here. At Jack’s soccer game. Which, he guesses he should’ve realized sooner that a lot of Jack’s classmates are on this team, too. And others from different classes, but still in his grade. It was only a matter of time before one of the kids asked a teacher to come. It would only take one, and clearly it did, and he’s unprepared.

Wildly unprepared. And wishing he put on a better shirt.

+++

The soccer game is a disaster, but a wonderful one.

The kids are too young for points to be counted, so it’s just a game of fun chaos. Teams are blurred and never really followed. But they looked like they had a blast out there, so that’s all that mattered.

You, Julia, and Kate split up to see your kids and give out as many high-fives as you possibly can. You listen to their rambles and congratulate them on playing so well. The parents stand by with smiles, occasionally one piping up to thank you for coming.

Aaron is there, too, surprisingly. He’s still smiling bigger than ever.

There’s a man with him, too, who Jack calls Uncle Dave. Jack has mentioned him in class before, and he’s actually Aaron’s coworker. He’s smiling, too, just not as wide, and he keeps glancing between you and Aaron.

Just when you think you’re in the clear, Aaron tells Jack to go with Uncle Dave because he needs to talk to you about something.

You catch Julia and Kate’s eyes when Aaron is left alone with you, and your stomach turns. He doesn’t look angry, but then again, the parents never look angry at first.

“I just wanted to thank you,” Aaron begins, turning so the sun isn’t in his eyes as much. He’s still squinting, and it’s adorable. You wonder why he didn’t wear sunglasses. “I picked a therapist from the list you gave me for Jack, and it’s really been helping him. A lot, so, I just wanted to thank you for giving that to me.”

You blink, stunned. “You’re welcome,” you say slowly before you gain your composure. “I’m very glad that it’s been helping. And to see him playing soccer,” you gesture to the field with a smile. “He seems to really enjoy it.”

“Oh, he does,” Aaron chuckles. “He can’t get enough of it. He talks about it all the time.”

All the time. So maybe he’s spending more time with Jack, then. “Good, I’m really glad to hear that.”

You pause, waiting for him to say something else. The awkward silence lingers for a little too long, and you know what’s coming next.

“I was wondering,” he starts, and lowers his voice a little. “I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime.”

As much as you’d love to say yes, you can’t let yourself. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner, that would just be inappropriate.”

“No, no, not as a date,” he backtracks, confusing you. “Just to thank you for-- For helping me get Jack in to see a therapist.”

You raise an eyebrow. “To thank me…for telling you what you should’ve done in the first place?”

He sputters for a moment, clearly losing his bearings. “No, I mean--”

“Listen, Mr. Hotchner,” you smile sweetly, trying to contain yourself. “What would you like? A gold star? For getting your son a therapist after he went through an incredibly traumatic event?”

He doesn’t say anything, and somehow that makes your anger and annoyance worse.

“Listen. The fact of the matter is that you should’ve kept your son in therapy since he lost his mother. And continue to keep him in therapy until he’s old enough to decide if he wants to continue seeing one or not. Because when my mom died, I didn’t get to have a therapist. We couldn’t afford it, and my dad was too out of his mind to even care. It nearly killed me, and my siblings. So don’t tell me that you want to thank me for something that I never should’ve had to do in the first place. You should’ve paid more attention to your son’s needs. Especially since you can afford services to genuinely help him.”

Your voice stayed quiet, thankfully, because you didn’t need everyone to hear you mouthing off to Aaron once again. You realize only halfway through that maybe you shouldn’t be saying these things in a setting such as this, but you’re too into it to stop.

Julia and Kate heard all of it, though. You can see their jaws open, eyes wide. Did you go too far? You don’t know and part of you doesn’t care. It’s the truth, and it hits far too close to home for you to say nothing at all.

Still, to cover your bases, you add one last thing. “I apologize if that was harsh, but it needed to be said. I want what’s best for my kids. And sometimes, that means getting their parents to see that they need to do better.”

You pause, and he nods, and says another quiet “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you murmur. And to keep things from stinging any more, you walk away.

Julia and Kate catch up with you on the way back to your car, both too stunned to say a word until you’re inside.

“Damn,” Julia whispers. “Damn.”

“Holy shit,” Kate says with a small laugh. “Tell ‘em.”

“Yeah,” you exhale loudly. “Let’s just hope I still have a job by Monday.”

+++

You do still have a job come Monday, with surprisingly no meeting with the principal, either. Or a phone call.

You’re suspicious, but trying not to be. Maybe it’s all fine.

You convince yourself that it’s completely fine until it really is. Until you start seeing Aaron occasionally, picking Jack up from school. You aren’t sure how often he’s been doing it, because the only reason you saw him is that you were forced into car rider duty. You’ve always been on the bus lane, but they needed another teacher out front, and that’s where you saw him first.

It caught you off guard the first time, honestly. It had been three weeks since the soccer game, since you told him off in front of everyone. And what did he do this time when he saw you?

He waved. He smiled. And then he scooped Jack up into his arms.

She won’t own up to it, but you’re positive Julia saw the interaction because you haven’t worked the bus lane since. Because Julia suddenly volunteered for it, taking your place.

Now, it’s a bit of a routine. Aaron picks Jack up almost every day, although sometimes there are a few stretches of three to four days where he isn’t present. Those days, you see Jessica, and she smiles at you as well, but it’s different. You got so used to seeing Aaron those days, that when you see Jessica, it feels strange. It begins to feel the way it used to feel when you saw Aaron picking Jack up.

It makes you smile. You’re glad to see Aaron taking the time to see Jack, to put in the time — finally — knowing he has the means to be able to do this.

+++

For the rest of the school year, this is how you see Aaron Hotchner.

Neither of you say a word to each other, except for the final parent-teacher conference — which he arrives early for. The conference is entirely professional, and he doesn’t mention the past. Neither do you.

The final week of school fast approaches, and you’re looking for decorations to put up in the classroom. You try to make the last week special because you know they’re just as ready for summer break as you are.

Part of your “decorations” consists of candy that you’ll put on their desk every morning, which means you’re in the grocery store, in desperate need of candy to entertain your kids. Five different kinds. Something extra special on the last day, though. They’ll get out two hours earlier, but they don’t know that yet (the parents do).

Right as you turn down the candy aisle, you stop dead in your tracks, your cart nearly smacking into someone else’s. When you look up, you realize who it is.

“Mr. Hotchner!” you blurt.

He smiles that soft smile. “Please, call me Aaron.”

You’re not used to calling parents by their first name. You know he’s tried to get you to call him Aaron a few times, but you can’t ever bring yourself to. Instead, you change subjects, peering into his cart.

“Grocery shopping? For…” You raise an eyebrow. “I don’t even have a good joke. Why do you have so many marshmallows?” He has like…six big bags. Of varying sizes, too.

“Long story,” he says, sheepish. “Jack wants to build something out of marshmallows.”

“Does he want to build a whole country?” you chuckle.

“Sort of, yeah,” Aaron laughs. “He said he wants to build a whole city, then eat it. His words.”

“Wonderful,” you grin. “Sounds like a blast.” And a good idea. You might steal that for next year.

“What are you here for?” Aaron asks, nodding toward your empty cart.

“Candy, for the kids,” you reply. “I want to give them a different kind every day for the last week, just to make it more fun.”

Aaron smiles wider this time. “They’ll love that.”

“Thanks,” you say, mirroring his smile.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Or him, quite frankly. Building marshmallow sculptures with Jack? Unheard of. But you leave it alone, just glad he’s spending more time with his son.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to shopping,” Aaron says, gesturing down the aisle. “See you on Monday.”

Baffled, you blink, then nod. “Yeah. See you Monday.”

You see Aaron every day of next week to pick Jack up, and you get to see Jack’s smile grow every day.

On Friday, you head back inside to your classroom, ready to pack things up. Thankfully, you’re returning to this room next year, so you don’t need to pack everything up.

As a tradition, you, Julia, and Kate go out to celebrate the end of the year, so you have to go home and get ready for the night ahead.

+++

Aaron doesn’t know why he let Rossi convince him to come out tonight. Jack’s at a sleepover at a friend’s house, so Aaron has nothing to do — theoretically. Until Rossi decided to drag him out.

Now, he’s sitting in a booth at a bar with a jazz band playing, and he’s wondering how many people Rossi can possibly know. Four people have already stopped to say hi, and they’ve barely been here for half an hour.

As Rossi talks with another friend, Aaron lets his eyes wander around the place, spotting the door when it opens. And you walk in.

He quickly averts his eyes, shifting in his seat. It’s enough to catch Rossi’s attention, and he gives Aaron a strange look, until he sees you at the bar with your two friends from Jack’s soccer game.

Aaron keeps his eyes trained on his whiskey, nodding absently when Rossi says he’s heading to the restroom.

What Rossi is actually doing is heading to the bar to intercept you and your friends, putting all three of your drinks on his tab.

“Thanks,” you chuckle, never one to argue with a free drink.

“You look familiar,” Julia blurts out.

“Dave,” Rossi introduces himself. “I’m a friend of Aaron Hotchner’s. I went with him to a few of Jack’s soccer games last season.”

“That’s where I’ve seen you,” you say.

Dave smiles. His back is turned to Aaron, so he can’t see Aaron glaring at him, wondering what the hell he’s doing up there talking to you.

“Aaron’s here with me, actually,” Dave says casually. “He’s at the booth just behind us if you’d like to see him.”

Kate nudges your arm harshly. “She would.”

“Actually, I don’t know if that’s—”

“Go,” Julia urges. “Why not?”

You give them both a look. “Fine,” you cave. “I’ll be right back.”

Kicking yourself for caving so easily (because you really would like to see him), you walk over to the booth where Aaron sits. Thankfully, his back is toward you, so he doesn’t see you coming.

He beams a smile when he sees you though, standing up to greet you. “Hey, what are you doing in here?”

“Kate and Julia drug me out,” you confess, idling for a moment as you both try to decide if you should shake hands, hug, or just stand here. “You?”

“Dave,” Aaron nods, chuckling. Just standing here it is. “Did he send you?”

“They all did,” you nod toward the bar, where they’re all watching like hawks, no doubt. “Mind if I sit?”

“Not at all,” he gestures to the empty space. “How are you?”

“Good, we’re out celebrating the end of the year,” you reply, walking around the table and sitting down on the plush booth cushion. This place is fancier than you would’ve chosen, but Julia heard good things about it from a friend, so you ended up here anyway. “How are you doing?”

“Good, although Dave drug me out for drinks because apparently,” he lifts his drink, “I don’t get out enough.”

“Y’know, that’s funny, my friends tell me the exact same thing,” you laugh. “Dave bought our drinks.”

“I knew he was doing something suspicious,” Aaron jokes, glancing back toward the bar. Dave and your friends have taken over three stools, clearly set on giving you and Aaron some time alone. “Sorry again if he forced you over here.”

“No, he definitely didn’t. My friends did,” you assure him, rolling your eyes. “Oh, I have to ask, how did Jack’s marshmallow city building go?”

Immediately, Aaron digs his phone out of his pocket. “I have a lot of pictures, I’ll just show you.” He unlocks his phone and goes to his camera roll, already smiling at the thought of them. “He had a blast. We went through so many toothpicks. We both had stomachaches by the end of it from eating so many marshmallows.”

He turns his phone to show you the pictures, and without thinking, you scoot closer to him. To get a better look at the pictures, you tell yourself, but you know that isn’t the full truth.

“Oh my god,” you laugh, grinning from ear to ear. “This so huge!”

“It covered our entire kitchen!” Aaron laughs with you, a sweet sound you wish you heard more often. “I didn’t tell Jessica about it, so she had a heart attack when she came over the next day.”

“I bet,” you nod seriously, swiping on his phone as he holds it toward you. “Goodness.” You look up at Aaron. “Did you guys eat all of them?”

“We’ve had a lot of hot chocolate.”

“It’s May.”

“I know,” he deadpans, feigning annoyance, but then he breaks into a smile. “I’ll admit, I’ve been snacking on them maybe a little more than I should every time I go into the kitchen.”

“I would do the same,” you chuckle. “No judgment here.”

He smiles at you and tucks his phone away back in his pocket, and neither of you move from how close you’ve gotten.

“How are you planning to spend your summer break?” he asks, taking a sip of his whiskey. You try not to stare at him too much.

“Lots of getting ready for next year,” you reply, rotating your glass in your hand, focusing on it instead. “Mostly reading for fun, I don’t get to do that a lot during the school year when I’m reading for my kids and grading and such. I plan to do a lot of nothing, basically,” you laugh. “What about you?”

“The same, hopefully,” he says, which surprises you. And he can tell, because he elaborates. “I took a lot of time off from work. I work from home now, essentially. If I absolutely need to go in, then I do, but so far, Dave’s been able to handle it.”

You knew a big change had been made, especially since he’s been picking Jack up from school everyday. But hearing the confirmation makes your heart warm. “I’m really glad to hear that.”

“Me too,” he says. “I know we’ve been over this, but I wanted to thank you for what you said, at Jack’s game—”

Mortified, you interrupt him. “Oh god, I hoped you had forgotten about that.”

“I didn’t forget—”

“I was rude.”

“What you said needed to be said and I’m glad you did,” he protests sincerely. “You shouldn’t have had to say anything, but you did, and I appreciate that.”

His sincerity stuns you. You blink, no words able to come out.

“We can move on from it now,” he says, noticing your hesitation. “I just wanted to be clear that I’m not angry with you for what you said, I’ve actually been the complete opposite.”

“Well,” you chuckle, trying to make light of this. “You didn’t call the school demanding I be suspended, so I knew you couldn’t be that upset with me.”

He stares at you, eyes widening. “Do parents do that?”

“Some, yeah,” you nod. “They don’t exactly like being told by a single teacher with no kids of her own that their parenting skills are shit.”

He laughs, taking a sip of his whiskey. You watch him raise the glass to his lips, but look away before he can catch you. You smile down at your own drink. This is embarrassing.

You thought this little crush -- or whatever it is -- had gone away since you hadn’t spoken to him since the soccer game. Sure, you started to look specifically for him in the pickup area, but that was for Jack. That wasn’t for you. Or, at least, that’s the story you spun for yourself.

“What’s on your list to read this summer?” Aaron asks, bringing your eyes back to his. He’s smiling. “I’ve been meaning to read more -- outside of the books Jack and I read.”

You remember Jack telling you about The Magic Treehouse series that Uncle Dave got him for Christmas, and how his dad was reading them with him.

“What, The Magic Treehouse isn’t enough for you?” you tease Aaron, and he laughs, that sweet sound you can’t get enough of.

You tell him about the books on your shelf at home, the ones you got years ago and have yet to read, and the others that you got this year because you couldn’t resist. He listens to each one, never once taking his eyes off of you.

“I am not going to remember all of these names,” he chuckles.

“I can text them to you,” you offer, a grin creeping up your cheeks.

He mirrors your expression. “You stole my line.”

“Oh, that was your line?” you ask, laughing as you pull out your phone. “Fine, fine, you can have it back.”

“No, you said it first,” he says, still grinning. He hands you his phone as you give him yours. “I’m bad at this anyway.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, typing in your contact information before handing his phone back. “I’ve had a pretty good time.”

He waits a moment, just basking in your smile, the feel of your fingertips brushing against his when he returns your phone. “Me too.”

The night doesn’t end there, as the two of you continue talking. Another round of drinks is sent to your table by Dave and your friends who wave enthusiastically when you and Aaron look over at them.

“Free drinks, at least,” you shrug. “How much money does Dave have?”

“Don’t ask,” Aaron shakes his head. “He’ll never tell.”

As you both finish your first drink and head into the second, you scoot even closer. You bring your legs underneath you on the booth, getting comfortable as you and Aaron start to talk about your favorite movies. He tries to be sneaky and put his arm around you, but you notice and can’t help the giggle that escapes you.

“I told you I’m bad at this.”

“No, it’s sweet!” you protest, leaning into his chest. “It’s very nice, I don’t mind.”

He moves his arm from the back of the booth to your shoulders then, his hand resting on your arm. “This okay?”

“It’s perfect,” you smile softly, turning your head to look up at him. “What movie were we on?”

He stares so intently, searching your face. You watch as his eyes gaze over every inch, dropping to your lips, then back to your pupils. “I have no idea.”

“Me either,” you murmur, silently hoping for a kiss. Silently hoping that he’s hoping, too.

And he is. “I know our friends are watching us,” he whispers. “But can I kiss you right now?”

“Yeah,” you grin. “I was about to ask.”

“Well now we’re even,” he says, leaning closer as he smiles. You tilt your head, meeting his lips halfway, not wanting to wait any longer. You’ve quieted these feelings for far too long.

He kisses you long and sweet, his free hand coming to cup your face as yours search for stability in his shoulders. He knocks the breath out of your lungs, literally, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Aaron pulls back for just a moment, just far enough to say, “Was that worth a gold star?”

You laugh, playfully swatting his chest. “Yeah, Aaron,” you say, looking up at him. “It was.”

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