#they are practically married your honor

[seraphzrequiem]

*Screaming crying clawing at the walls* i want to be them, my pookies

[yamagache]

Happy Parapines Day!!! In celebration I toss a new fic at yeah! Enjoy! ❤

Fandom: ParaNorman (2012), Gravity Falls Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Norman Babcock/Dipper Pines Characters: Norman Babcock, Dipper Pines Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Boyfriends, Dipper Pines Is A Literal Pine Tree, Norman has the patience of a saint, Fluff, Small fight, He's a dumbass your honor, BOIS ARE HAPPY, Rain, "Sharing" an umbrella, The weather can suck it, bickering? Summary:

It was just supposed to be a cute walk. But Dipper's a dumbass. And Dense as hell.

[lunarlegend]

Older Ignis & Older Stella reenacting the Fruit Sticker Incident 10 years later except this time when he leans over to kiss her, she dives down and starts stuffing apple slices in her mouth like a chipmunk

[pttucker]

Are we finally going to have a whole scenario where KDJ & YJH work together? :D

[leaderwonim]

❀﹐𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis: in which married couple park sunghoon and park y/n are on their way to court to divorce when they suddenly get into a car crash, losing their memories entirely. over time, they start to fall inlove with each other all over again.

genre: angst, exes to lovers + strangers to lovers (ynhoon are soulmates your honor!!) fluff

“You are the most immature person I have ever met!” You shout, “I should’ve never married you in the first place!”

“Finally, something we can both agree on.” Sunghoon seethes, and you just know the taxi driver is uncomfortable by the way he’s awkwardly looking in the car mirror.

The both of you crossed your arms stubbornly, huffing like little children who just threw a tantrum.

The only reason why you and Sunghoon were getting a divorce in the first place was because he was so busy at his office, inheriting the CEO position from his father just months earlier.

You felt lonely, and it really didn’t help that Sunghoon didn’t give you any reassurance because he was too tired.

“Aish, why is this red light taking so long?” Sunghoon angrily mumbles underneath his breath.

“Well maybe it’s your negative energy.”

“Can you be mature once in your life?” Sunghoon snaps back.

The taxi driver, very annoyed with the both of you, continues driving when the light turns green.

Then all of a sudden, a car rams through the intersection, crashing directly into the taxi.

You scream, and Sunghoon instantly puts his arms around your frame, shielding you.

Then, all goes black.

For a second, you could see the day that you and Sunghoon got married.

It was a Sunday, at the beautiful church nearby Sunghoon’s parents house, and you were wearing what Sunghoon called the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. It was plain white, but long and so beautifully designed that it didn’t need any other colors.

When you arrived at the altar, Sunghoon had bursted into tears. Some of his friends, Jake, who had traveled all the way from Australia to attend, patted the boy on back as comfort.

That day was nonetheless the happiest day of your life. You don’t know if Sunghoon feels the same, and looking back, it feels like such a shame that you’re throwing it all down the drain.

❀﹐

BLEEP. BLEEP.

Your body jolts awake, head practically killing you with the amount of ache it produced as you tried to sit up.

“Patient is up!” The nurse says before walking into your room with a tray. “Good morning, are you feeling okay?”

You raise your hands to touch your head, which was bandaged by some soft tissue material.

“Where am I?” You say, looking around the room. You spot a unknown man groggily getting up, and for a second, you can’t help but notice how handsome he was.

That was besides the point, though.

“You’re in the hospital.” The nurse says, smiling softly. “Do you remember the events leading up to this?”

“I.. I don’t remember anything, actually.”

The nurse still smiles at you reassuringly. “It’s alright lovebug, it seems as though you two have lost your memories.”

“Us two?” You question.

“Yes.” She points to the guy on the other bed right next to you who just looked like he woke up from death. He too looked badly injured like you, having a broken hand and bandage around his head. “Park Sunghoon-ssi was in the same car as you and got injured as well.”

Park Sunghoon. Why did that name sound so familiar?

“Well since you're both awake," she said, relief evident in her voice. "You've been in an accident. Do you remember anything Sunghoon-ssi?”

Sunghoon shook his head slowly. "No... I don't remember anything."

The nurse nodded, sympathy in her eyes. “It's not uncommon for victims to lose their memories after a traumatic accident. Memory loss can be temporary. Just focus on resting for now.”

The nurse leaves the room, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.

“She said we were in the same car together,” you say slowly. “But I really can’t remember what you are to me.”

Sunghoon shrugs. “Me either. All I remember vividly is my parents. You must’ve been an acquaintance of mine, then.”

You nod, stretching your limbs. “You got more injured than me.”

He lets out an airy chuckle, lifting his broken arm which was in a cast into the air. “Yep, broken arm.”

You want to remember so badly what had happened leading up to all of this. What were you doing? Where were you going, and why were you with this Park Sunghoon guy in the first place?

“What did you get for breakfast?”

Sunghoon breaks the silence between the two of you, and you slowly look down at the tray in front of your bed.

“Uh, the nurse got me tiramisu and oatmeal.”

“Tiramisu?” Sunghoon’s mood automatically brightens up. “Can we please switch sweets? I really love tiramisu.”

You laugh at his childlike behavior, but nod anyway. “I’ll bring it to you Sunghoon, wait.”

You don’t know why, but it feels so right saying his name. Sunghoon must’ve felt the same way, because he swore his mouth went dry at you calling out his name.

You carefully make your way out your hospital bed, making sure not to accidentally detach any monitors that were attached to you. Grabbing the tiramisu cup, you make your way over to Sunghoon, who’s already shaking in excitement.

Then you make your way back, opening the lid of your oatmeal bowl.

“I may not know what happened in the accident,” Sunghoon says. “But I know this tiramisu is so fucking good.”

You shake your head, laughing at his words. “Yah Sunghoon, you think we were best friends before all of this?”

“Maybe.” He mutters, the mascarpone cheese of the tiramisu leaving a mark on the side of his lips.

“Well our humor is alike.” You say. “Would explain why we were in the same car together. Maybe we were going out to lunch.”

The rest of the day was spent with Sunghoon and you cracking jokes then and there, the awkwardness of the two of you being strangers quickly faded.

❀﹐

The next day, you were given tiramisu once again while Sunghoon was given cookies.

You descended from your bed, once again, and gave the tiramisu cup to Sunghoon while you grabbed his bag of cookies.

“You know what’s funny?” You say, biting into the warm chocolate chip cookie.

“What?” He says, although it’s muffled from the amount of tiramisu he’s stuffed into his mouth.

“Yah, you gotta stop doing that, it’s gross.”

Sunghoon sticks his tongue out at you, which makes you giggle.

“We’re both Parks, isn’t that funny?”

“Huh,” Sunghoon looks up at the ceiling, thinking for a brief second. “Park Sunghoon and Park Y/N. That is funny.”

Maybe both of your humors are broken because you hit your head too hard during the crash, but even though you were at the hospital, you’re glad you have someone like Sunghoon to keep you company.

“Do you want to watch the stars with me tonight at the balcony?” You ask the boy, who nods softly.

“I’d love to, actually.”

And that’s what the two of you did. By the time it hit 10pm, you two tiptoed out to the balcony, making sure to not let any of the night nurses see you.

“Whoaaa, it’s beautiful.” Sunghoon says, letting his broken arm lean against the railing. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

You smile, leaning your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder.

“Sunghoon.” You say, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not sure what we were before the accident,” you stop for a second. “But I’m glad we knew each other.”

Sunghoon turns his head to look down at your face, his expression morphed into a genuine smile. “I’m glad we knew each other too Y/N.”

That night, you slept the most compared to the other nights at the hospital. In your dreams, you see Sunghoon—only instead of being at the hospital bed right beside you, he’s in the kitchen, wearing a black suit.

“You look nice today.”

“Thank you baby.” Sunghoon leans down to give you a kiss on the lips. “Is that tiramisu?”

You nod, your eyes full of love. “Of course, you’ve been working so hard so I decided to make your favorite.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, letting the two of you swing back and forth slowly. “Thank you my love, I seriously don’t know what I would do without you.”

You woke up in a cold sweat, the dream feeling all too real.

“What’s wrong?” Sunghoon says, and you swore your heart almost leaped out of your chest, not expecting the brunette boy to be awake.

“It’s 2am, why are you even awake?” You say croakily, hands coming to rub your tired eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs. “Hey, I had a really weird dream just now.”

“Me too.” You say, “you were in it.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t further question it. “You were a lawyer in my dream, you just graduated from Seoul University. We bought a house, and you told me you wanted to continue with your career.”

At least his dream was somewhat normal, you think. I can’t just tell him I dreamt of us being together and being all lovey dovey. He’d be thrown into a coma!

“Ah, mine was similar.”

Nice save Y/N.

Sunghoon suddenly gets up from his bed, deciding to sit at the dining table the nurses had brought out for the two of you yesterday night.

“Come sit with me.”

You slowly creep out of your bed, sitting on the empty seat next to Sunghoon.

Suddenly, you’re hit with a sudden pounding headache.

“You’re the worst, Sunghoon!” You scream on the top of your lungs, “I hate you! I hate you!”

“Stop screaming!” He grabs your arms gently, eyes directly looking into yours. “Y/N-ah, stop it.”

“So I’m Y/N to you now?” Your voice breaks. “No more baby or love? Am I just another person to you Sunghoon?”

“Of course not, why would you say that?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep inhale. “Let’s just talk about this calmly, okay?”

“What’s there to talk about? You are never home, you’re always cooped up in your office! We might as well get a divorce!”

Sunghoon’s hold on your shoulder makes you snap out of your daze.

“Hey, you okay?” He says concernedly, “you were breathing heavily.”

“What?” You gasp. “Yeah—yeah, I’m okay. I just think I had a flashback.”

“Really? What was it?”

You don’t want to tell Sunghoon that it was the two of you fighting. Why did you even mention divorcing in the flashback? Were you and Sunghoon something more than just friends?

“Just the crash.” You say. You want to tell him the truth, you really do, but you’re not sure if these were hallucinations from how hard your head was hit during the trauma or if they were actual flashbacks.

“Well, I’m here.” Sunghoon whispers reassuringly. “I’ll always be here. We survived a car crash together anyway, we’re kinda bonded to each other.”

You laugh, smacking him on his shoulder softly. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.”

❀﹐

“Do you remember what your passion was before all of this?” Sunghoon asks, peeling his orange with his injured hand.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” you say, “l think I really would’ve liked becoming a mother. I love kids, the thought of them makes me happy.”

“I think you would be a great mother.” Sunghoon says quietly. “Even though we don’t know each other much, I can tell you’re loving.”

You look down at your lap, trying to suppress the bright smile forming at the corner of your lips.

“Thanks Hoonie.”

“Hoonie?”

Your eyes widened. “I’m sorry! Did I make you uncomfortable? I should’ve not—”

“It’s okay Y/N,” he chuckles. “It’s fine. I like it.”

You can’t help but laugh along with him. “Okay.”

The next few days go by quickly, with you and Sunghoon already warming up to each other.

You were both comfortable enough to speak your thoughts freely around one another, no matter how silly or ridiculous some of them seemed.

When the nurses brought you two breakfast, Sunghoon almost dropped his fork in shock.

“They gave me tiramisu.” He says, eyes glistening with joy. “They finally gave me tiramisu.”

“I don’t know why you’re so excited.” You snicker jokingly. “You’ve been eating my tiramisu this entire week.”

He turns around to look at your tray, which had a bag of snickerdoodle cookies on it.

With shaking limbs, he makes his way over, handing the tiramisu cup to you and swapping it with your cookies.

“I thought you hated snickerdoodle cookies, Hoon?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed.

“I do.” He admits. “But you’ve given me your tiramisu all week, I wanted you to have mine this time.”

Your heart swells at that, and you point your spoon at him accusingly.

“Yah, is this because you want my chocolate pudding at dinner?” You joke.

“Pffft, what? Nooo.” He quickly defends himself. “But if you’re willing to share—”

“Shut up Park Sunghoon!”

“Yes ma’am!”

❀﹐

You don’t know why, but you’re starting to feel giddy whenever you talk with Sunghoon.

Your palms does this thing where it sweats profusely, and your tongue feels like dried sandpaper.

There’s no way you like Park Sunghoon, right? You’ve barely known the guy for two weeks, so why was the heart racing at the thought of him?

“I’ve convinced the nurses to get us two bottles of coca cola,” Sunghoon says, practically jumping up and down as he entered the room.

“Really? Out of all the drinks you could’ve persuaded them to get us, you got us coke.”

“Don’t diss Coca Cola like that!” Sunghoon says, crossing his arms.

Just like Sunghoon had said, the nurse approaches the two of you an hour later, 2 bottles of coca cola in her hands. She hands one to Sunghoon, then to you.

"Enjoy." She says, smile reaching her eyes.

Sunghoon's eyes light up when he opens the bottle and takes a sip. "Ah, for some reason, this feels so nostalgic."

A little memory pops up in his head, one of him playing at the park with his mom and younger sister.

"Sunghoon-oppa! Mom says she brought us coca cola!" The young girl, Yeji, says. "C'mon! Come with me!"

The young Park Sunghoon lets his younger sister take his hand, running towards their mom who was on the other side of the park.

"What's wrong Sunghoon-ssi?" You ask, noticing how his thick eyebrows were furrowed and his grip on the bottle had tightened.

"Huh?"

"You zoned out for a bit."

He chuckles nervously, glancing around the room. "Sorry, I think I just had a flashback." He says. "Park Yeji."

"Who?"

"My younger sister." He explains. "I could see her clearly. I wonder where she is right now."

You too wondered where your family was. Maybe they were too busy to come visit you. You could briefly remember having a younger brother. Jungwon. Yang Jungwon.

"Cheers." He says, mood changing quickly. His canines shined brightly as he smiled, making him look all too gorgeous in your eyes. "To the car crash, for bringing me and Park Y/N together."

You giggle, raising your bottle in the air. "Cheers to the car crash, for bonding me with this weird guy named Sunghoon."

"Yah!"

❀﹐

"Is it weird?"

"Hm?"

It's 11pm, and you and Sunghoon face each other as you're both laying on opposite ends of the room.

"That we've known each other for only a few weeks and I already feel like I've known you for an entire lifetime?"

You smile at his words, shaking your head. "No, I feel the same way Hoonie."

"Would it be stupid to say out loud how much I want to kiss you right now?"

Your mouth almost drops at his boldness, but you quickly shake your head.

Sunghoon takes your silence as approval, sitting up to come over to your side.

He brushes the hair away from your face, leaning in to close the gap between your lips.

When the both of you pull away, you automatically lean in again, the feel of his lips on yours felt so right.

"I love you Sunghoon." You say as you cup his cheeks. "I don't want to fight anymore."

"I know," he whispers. "I love you. Cause even though we were both going down, we were going down together."

"I hate you." You say, a smile playing on your face. "I hate you for being the only person who I can't stay mad at."

"And I love you," he says. "For being there for me, always."

"Sunghoon."

"Hm?"

"I love you."

He smiles down at you, uninjured hand coming to hold yours. "I love you too."

❀﹐

"What?" You say flabbergasted.

The next morning was the date of both yours and Sunghoon's discharge, and both your families decided to come visit.

"You two were married." Your father explains, a bewildered expression on his face. "How could you not know? Was the Park Y/N not obvious?"

"I thought that was just my last name!" You say, defending yourself.

"Your last name is Yang, noona." Your little brother speaks up. It was Jungwon, the same boy you kept seeing in your flashbacks, only this time, his face looks more clear and matured. "It was before you married Sunghoon-hyung."

"You're telling me we got married and divorced?" Sunghoon says, stuttering over his own words.

"Yes son," Sunghoon's mother explains. "Well, not quite exactly. We don't know why you guys wanted to divorce, you kind of shut yourselves out when you were arguing. You didn't officially divorce yet, you got into an accident on the way to court."

That made so much sense now. The flashbacks of arguments between you and Sunghoon, the makeups after the arguments, the cute moments, everything. It started to all click in your head.

"You still share houses and everything, the lawyers had to put your case on hold because you were both hospitalized." Jungwon says. "We were here to pick you up separately, in case you weren't comfortable staying with each other."

"It's fine." You and Sunghoon both say at the same time.

"Are you sure honey?" Sunghoon's mom asks concernedly.

"Yes mom, I'm sure."

The drive home was awkward, you both drove in different cars but to the home you had bought before the accident happened.

"Noona," Jungwon calls out to you. Your parents are still in the car, looking at the scene in front of them.

"Yes Jungwon?"

"Listen, I may not know a lot about love," he says, "but I know what you and Sunghoon-hyung have is real. I could still see somewhere in his eyes that he remembers parts of you and he still loves you whether or not his memories came back or not. I could tell you love him too. I don't know why the two of you decided to divorce but I know you called me crying hysterically because of it. I just think you two needed to talk it out, without the lawyers, without the paperwork. You two are the two most stubborn people I know, but also the two most loving people I know, you wouldn't just leave each other like that."

You want to cry at your younger brother's words, tears already leaking from your eyes. "Thank you Won."

You reach your arms out to hug him, a hug that he instantly melts into. "I love you noona."

"I love you too."

❀﹐

"This isn't what we expected, huh?" Sunghoon says, leaning his head on the marble island in the middle of your kitchen. "This whole time I thought you were my best friend, turns out you were my soon to be ex-wife."

You laugh quietly at the irony of the whole situation. "Whatever we were in the past is in the past Hoon."

He nods. "I can't believe we were going to divorce."

"I can't believe it either."

"You know what my mom told me in the car?" Sunghoon sits up straight to look at you. "The reason I have a broken arm and you don't was because during the crash, I put my arms around yours to protect you. Isn't that funny? Even though we hated each other at that moment, my first instinct was to protect you."

You stay still at that, his words sinking into your brain.

"It's like the universe wanted us to be together." You say quietly.

"Hey Y/N?"

You turn around to face Sunghoon. "Yeah?"

"I'm glad I married you."

Even though you and Sunghoon aren't sure where you stand in terms of relationship, all you know is that you love him, and that is enough for the both of you.

[tender-rosiey]

maybe jelly — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: gojo getting jealous? 👁️👁️

you arrive at jujutsu high, as you prepare for your guest lecture. you’ve given these talks before, but this time, something feels a little different—satoru is acting strange.

not that he’s ever normal, but today he seems extra…dramatic.

“you’re going to kill it, babe,” satoru says, draping his arm over your shoulders as you walk toward the classroom. his blindfold hides his eyes, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze, more focused than usual.

“you okay?” you ask, glancing at him with a teasing grin. “you seem a little... off.”

“me? off? never,” he replies, lips pulling into his trademark smirk. “just making sure no one gets too cozy with my brilliant wife. gotta make sure these kids remember you’re taken.”

you roll your eyes playfully, “I think everybody and their mother know that, satoru.”

time passes by, and now, you stand at the front of the lecture hall at jujutsu high, wrapping up your talk.

the students seem genuinely engaged, and one in particular, a young sorcerer named ren, is practically bouncing with enthusiasm, asking follow-up questions.

“and how did you manage to seal that curse without any physical confrontation?” ren asks, his voice brimming with admiration and curiosity.

before you could respond, satoru appears at your side with his usual confidence, his presence instantly commanding attention, “well, she is the wife of the gojo satoru. kinda comes with the territory,” he interjects, flashing his signature grin.

you shoot him an exasperated look, “I’m pretty sure my skills had something to do with it.”

satoru leans in close, nuzzling against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly. “oh, of course, sweetheart. you’re amazing, but it doesn’t hurt to be married to the strongest sorcerer around, right?”

ren blinks, clearly caught off guard by the interaction.

he glances between you and satoru, his expression a mix of confusion and awe. “I wasn’t aware you were married,” he mutters, his gaze flickering between you and satoru as if trying to process this new information.

you smile and give satoru a jab into his ribs that he takes like a champ, “yeah, he likes to remind people. it’s kind of his thing.”

satoru, never one to miss an opportunity to make a grand statement, leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of your head.

his arm slips casually around your waist, “just keeping things clear. y'know, in case anyone forgets that I get the honor of calling you mine.”

ren tries to steer the conversation back to his question, “so, about the sealing technique…”

satoru cuts him off again, stepping slightly in front of you with a playful yet firm stance.

“hey, hey, let’s not bombard her with too many questions now. she’s been on her feet alllll day, talking about all the cool stuff she’s done and showing everybody just how badass she is.”

you roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. stepping around him to face ren again, you continue, “ignore him. the technique I used requires focusing on—”

satoru clears his throat dramatically, pulling you back to his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, eyes boring into the poor boy even through his blindfold.

“you know what I think? I think my lovely wife deserves a break. maybe some alone time with her handsome, strong, and incredibly talented husband?”

you raise an eyebrow at him, your tone teasing. “handsome and humble, I see.”

satoru’s grin widens, and he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I can be both when it comes to you.”

you are about to retort back, but then you remember that ren is still here.

you turn to the boy with a smile and assure him, “anyway, ren, if you want to chat more about techniques, we can catch up later. after my husband gets over himself,” you hiss at the man who raises his hands in surrender.

ren, now visibly flustered and unsure, mumbled, “uh, I’ll… catch up with you later then. thanks for the talk!”

ren dashes out the room, slamming the door behind him. you tap your feet against the ground for a few minutes, before you elbow satoru again.

he stays standing up, chest puffed out and a big grin plastered on his face. you deadpan as you stare at your husband, “you really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

satoru shrugs nonchalantly, still holding you close. he hums, giving you a kiss on the forehead, “what can I say? I don’t like sharing. besides, you are the wife of the strongest sorcerer; it’s important to make sure that’s clear.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile helplessly at your husband. your fingers find their way through his hair making him instantly melt. you giggle at your puddle of a husband, “you’re so lucky I love you.”

he tilts his head slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I love you more, soooooooooooo—”

“oh my god, I get it,” you laugh as you try to push him off. he resists with a whine as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. you yield and let the silence fill the room.

he hums softly as you both sway mindlessly.

“but y’know,” you pull back slightly, smiling up at him, “you really do like to make an impression.”

he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief, “just doing my part to ensure everyone knows how lucky I am and how lucky they should feel to be in the presence of my extraordinary wife.”

he intertwines your left hands together and raises them slightly, showing off the rings. the sun makes them shine quite brightly, and it makes you sigh with a smile and satoru let out a huff of laughter.

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[flowersforjude]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐚 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader 

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | When Cregan Stark begins his search for a wife, some hidden feelings come to light.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 6,484(Idk what came over me okay!?)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Mature Content-Explicit Descriptions Of Sex | Friends to lovers, Longing and pining, Love confessions, Possessive!Cregan, Smut: Piv, Oral(fem receiving), Clit biting, Hair pulling, Multiple orgasms, Biting/bruising(VERY MILD), Wife/marriage kink, Size difference. 

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I did not anticipate Cregan Stark pulling me out of my writing slump. But everyone say thank you Cregan! For those of you waiting for it, Hea Mēre is still coming. I just wanted to post something since I haven’t put any new works out here lately. Hea Mēre is coming SOON, though, I promise.

masterlist | read on ao3

Word had spread that the Warden of the North was in need of a wife. And so the great hall of Winterfell was now a symphony of merry music and proud spoken promises. Nearly every great house in the north flocked to Winterfell’s gates one after the other. Some lords arrived with nearly their whole households in tow. Some only brought their daughters. 

Cregan, ever the loyal man, had welcomed them to his home as any good liege lord would. Demanding a feast be thrown in the honor of northern unity. 

The revels had been at their height for hours now, and you took in as much as you could handle. As the night wore on, though, you found a need for respite. The boisterous laughter and clambering of drunk men was a muffled sound to your ears now. Out here in the chilly corridors, only the howling wind could truly be heard. 

It had been close to a year since Cregan took the seat of his late father. Since then, the north has rallied behind him. Came to pledge their words of fealty and wish their lord prosperity. And now they came again to offer him their daughters, sisters, and nieces. You knew he would take a wife at some point—some point very soon. And because he was a northman through and through, he would marry a northern woman. One from a great house with a long history and ample influence. 

For some reason, all your preparation for this moment had done nothing to aid you when it actually came.

The wind swirled around you like a restless spirit, forcing you to wrap your arms around yourself to stave off the chill. You could just go back inside, but all the warmth in the world could not tempt you. Witnessing all the eligible ladies of the north look upon Cregan with hungry and hopeful eyes was an unnecessary cruelty you didn’t wish on yourself. It wasn’t as though you could fault them for it. He was Lord of Winterfell, and as such, he was obligated to take a wife. What woman wouldn’t want that to be them? 

You yourself had yearned for it for as long as you could recall. Practically growing up alongside him, youthful companionship had reformed as enrapturing affection. There was not a day where you did not cross paths with him, often purposely carving out time to spend together. You were always available to each other; living within the same keep had made it quite impossible to be apart. 

Your father was Master of Arms; being a second son from house Cerwyn, he was granted knighthood in his youth. The late Lord Rickon Stark had appointed him as Master of Arms a handful of years before you were born. 

Your father had trained Cregan as a boy. The memory of first meeting him was still clear as glass even after all these years. 

The snow was still cool against your cheeks as you sat atop a railing, observing your father working with the boys during one particular day. You had snuck away from your Septa some time ago, preferring the chilled air outside to the stuffy heat indoors. That, and your hands ached from all the needlework you’d been made to practice. 

Cregan had caught sight of you almost immediately. Smirking at your attempt to conceal yourself from searching eyes. You smiled back at him, pressing a small finger to your lips silently, asking him to keep your secret. 

And he did. He said nothing to your father during the training session. Pretending you weren’t there at all. It wasn’t until your father caught you himself that you were sent back inside with clear instructions to apologize to your Septa for running off. 

It was an act of fate that later that day you and Cregan crossed paths in one of the winding halls of Winterfell. In a second long bout of courage, you stopped him to say a proper thank you for not ratting you out. 

The rest was simply history. 

“I was wondering where you’d run off to.” The low rumble of a voice invaded your troubled thoughts. 

The sound of footsteps thudded against the old wood. You turned to see Cregan rounding the corner, his slate eyes resting on you. The flickering torchlight caught the contours of his face, and for a moment, the weight of his presence made your heart race.

“Why are you all the way out here?” He asked, his deep candace rolling over you like thunder. 

“I just needed some air.” You answered, hoping he’d deem it a suitable reply. “The festivities got a bit overwhelming.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent a thrill of familiar fondness down your spine. “Overwhelming is one way to put it. I can hardly hear myself think in there.” He stepped closer, the warmth of his body casting like a shield against the cold. “But I am glad I’ve found you.”

You nodded, not catching the implicating tone in his voice. You dropped your gaze to the frost-kissed ground. “I suppose everyone is eager to make an impression tonight. Especially the ladies.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, laced with a bitterness that you were not used to hearing from your own voice. 

He noted the sour tone in your words. He himself admitted to being caught offhand at the unexpected abundance of marriage proposals. When he had alluded to wanting to look for a wife, he hadn’t anticipated this. Truthfully, the only woman he would want to wed was standing beside him. In the years of closeness with you, you had unknowingly taken his heart right from him. He recognized the fact that he hadn’t owned his heart for some time now. He had given it to you long before he even realized it. 

If he was certain you would accept, he’d have asked your hand in marriage instead of entertaining half the northern population.

“Eager indeed.” He replied, his tone shifting to something more serious. “It is all rather…overwhelming.” He sighed, echoing your words from before. 

You disliked seeing him so burdened. In the months since he took the role of Warden, though, that oppressed look marred his handsome features far too frequently for your liking. 

“You need not rush into anything.” You consoled, wanting to take his strains and carry them yourself.

He grunted, resting his hands over the pommel of Ice. The great longsword hanging at his side. “Would you have me keep my people in suspense?”

“I would rather you keep them waiting than to risk your own happiness.” You said, your voice softer now, carrying the weight of your concern. Sometimes it felt foolish to worry over him so much, but you supposed that was a condition of loving someone.

“What do you think would make me happy?” The question wasn’t unexpected; he oftentimes sought out your advice just as you would with him. But to speak with him of his potential nuptials felt like a shard of ice was lodged in your chest. 

You met his eyes; gone from the silver shine was the frustration replaced with a sort of keenness to know your thoughts. Most would say his eyes were two wild winter storms, and they could be if he was so inclined. But you had always seen them as bright stars hanging high in the sky. Shining down with their silver light that pulled you in and stole your breath. 

“I would say marriage to someone who could honor and carry on the traditions of your family.” You replied, a peak of the true depths of your devotion seeping into your words. “A lady that would care for you, and not simply the title that came with you.” 

“Someone like you, perhaps?” Cregan suggested a teasing lilt in his voice, but there was no mistaking the tinge of sincerity. He stepped closer then, forcing you to twist your position to where your back was against the railing. His warmth clouded your senses for a moment, causing you to lose track of your thoughts. 

“You jest.” You retort, a nervous laugh bubbling from your lips. “This is serious, Cregan.” 

His expression shifted, a spark of intensity igniting in his eyes. “I am being serious.” He countered, an unusual tension crackling in the cold air. There was something new swimming in his eyes, firm but soft the longer he looked at you. “You’ve always been more to me than just a companion or a friend. You must know that.” 

A scoff sounded from you. “Must I?” You echoed incredulously, your heart pounding in your chest. The chilly air felt electric, humming with unspoken words and emotions that had been buried for too long. 

He pressed closer, his presence mudding your resolve. “Yes,” he insisted. “Every time I look at you, all I can think about is how much I crave you by my side above all else.” His voice was low and earnest, not a hint of deception to be found. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your lips parting to take in a shaky breath. “I am not a woman that could ever be considered as your wife.” The words stung as they left your lips, trembling on their descent. He was alluding to everything you had secretly hoped for, yet the reality of it felt like a dream you weren’t sure you could grasp. “I am the daughter of a second son. I hold no titles, no grand connections. And certainly-”

Cregan silenced you with a searing kiss. One that was all flames and fervor, but slow enough to feel every movement of his mouth molding over yours. A soft gasp slipped past you, and he drank it in, claiming it for himself. 

Your hands hung by your sides for a moment before your body caught up with your mind. But once his solid arms coiled themselves around your hips, something in you snapped in place finally. Hands went to his shoulders, gripping onto the thick fur of his cloak. He pulled you in, your back coming off the railing, pressing you to him so no space was between you. 

Your lips struggled to match his pace, but it was not for lack of trying. All these years of tampered emotions and repressed desires made everything blur together. The only tangible thing to be felt was Cregan. He held you with the utmost gentleness, his hands falling along your curves but never drifting too far or squeezing too tightly. 

The yearning threatened to spill over. Bubbling within the both of you and being tended higher and higher with every slide of your lips against each other. You knew better than anyone that he had a roughness about him. And you wanted to coax it out; you wanted him. 

His teeth nipped your bottom lip as he walked you backwards. Pressing you into a wooden pillar, he brought you flush against him. Though, through all the furs and layers of clothing, there was nothing to be felt. You could sense his hunger in the subtle low noises in the back of his throat and the way his touch grew feverish. 

When he left your mouth to trail his lips along your jaw and down your neck, you took the opportunity to reign in your self-control. When he hitched one of your legs around his hips, though, you could feel your composure slipping away. The line of propriety daring you to cross it as his fingers kneaded into the pliant flesh of your thigh. 

“Cregan.” You sighed as he kissed a line across your jaw. There were things you wanted to say. Things you needed to speak about. But your desire-addled mind couldn’t bring forth a single syllable. 

A loud roar of laughter sounded from the great hall, pulling you both back to the present. Cregan huffs into the crook of your neck, the hot puff of his breath sending goosebumps along your spine. 

He dropped your leg but kept his hold on your waist. “I will not take you for the first time in my halls where anyone could see.” Everything inside him screamed at him to continue, to hike up your skirts and make you his once and for all. But he would not have the first time muddied with the risk of prying eyes. He would have you, but only somewhere safe, warm, and private. 

“If this is what you want,” Cregan murmured. “I would have you in my chambers, though; if you wish to not continue, I will leave at once.”

A huff of laughter escaped you, eyes meeting his as your hands slid from his shoulders to his chest. “I have never wanted anything more than you for as long as I can recall.”

With your words solidifying what you both wanted, he pressed another quick kiss to your lips. Taking your hand in his, you made the all too familiar walk to his chambers. 

You had some time to think while trending through the halls. Your mind was made up, resolved, and set in stone, but nerves prickled at your skin. Not for the act itself really, but the knowledge it would be with Cregan. After all this time and all the wondering, it was finally happening. You hadn’t quite wrapped your head around it yet. 

This part of the keep was dead silent, far away enough from the great hall that the raucous of the gathering was a distant memory. The doors to his chambers were tall, heavy oak, crafted from large stocks of trees from the Wolfswood. As Cregan pushed them open, the warmth from inside his rooms wafted out to greet you. 

Passing through the threshold, you felt the shift of everything. Nothing would be the same after tonight. “What happens afterwards?” You question, words leaving your lips in a whisper as his makes an expedition across your jaw. You didn’t want to doubt him, but all of this felt like a dream moving so quickly you couldn’t discern if anything was real. 

“I will make you mine tonight.” He murmured, one arm going around your waist. “And you make me yours. Then we will be wed before the Weirwood tree.” 

“You would make me your wife?” You asked softly, watching as his face became puzzled. 

“Were my words not convincing enough?” A smile pulled on his lips, though he did not let it overtake his expression. He hummed a deep sound, lips falling here and there on your neck. 

His sugary tone thrilled you to your core. His hinting words and the press of his mouth made a surge of arousal swirl within you. “Perhaps you should just show me,” you urged. 

Not wasting another second, his arm around your waist hauled you to him. Your fingers gripping the fur of his cloak, pulling yourself as close as possible to him. Cregan’s mouth met yours frantically. His kiss was hungry, filled with a deep-seated yearning for you that he had tried to ignore. 

The heat of the room multiplied. Gone were the frozen winds from outside, a blazing inferno taking its place. That fire churned between you as he kissed you with the roughness you knew lay within him. Once again, you failed to keep up, but you were more than content to let him kiss you into a stupor. His teeth scraping the skin of your bottom lip as he worked on the clasp of your cloak. 

Letting the heavy garment fall to the floor at your feet, you shivered at the loss of its warmth. Wanting to level things out, your hands undid the fastening of his, a thrill shooting to you, noticing the eagerness in which he tossed it to the ground. 

“Cregan.” You whispered, trembling at the feeling of his hands at your back untying the laces of your dress. The material sagging around your shoulders. Grey stars met your eyes, asking you if he could continue. Nodding your consent, he slid the dress down, never letting his eyes wander as the garment pooled at your feet.

Your shift was the only thing separating your nakedness from his eyes. But you couldn’t help but feel the severe imbalance between you. As he made home in your neck again, your hands went to work on the restraints of his tunic. One by one, the clasps opened for you until you pushed the clothing from his shoulders. 

He huffed out a laugh into the skin of your neck that turned into a shudder when your fingers slid under his shirt. You let your hands feel along the corded muscle of his abdomen. Years of hard training formed his body into the mountain of a man that he was now. 

You moaned outright when he bit the skin below your ear. His hands mapping out the dips of your curves. Gripping here and there with his digits, unable to help himself when feeling the heat of your skin from beneath the thin shift. 

Growing desperate, you started raising his shirt up to say you wanted it off. He untangled himself from you just enough to aid you in lifting it over his head. It joined the rest of your clothing on the floor.

Seeing what was always hidden underneath those layers of thick garments had your head spinning. He was all solid muscle and pure strength. Powerful yes, but knowing that he would never use that power against you in a way to cause harm was exhilarating. 

Not being able to help yourself, you let your fingers lightly glide over the impressive map of his stomach. He indulges you for a few moments before your nails scrape along his skin, causing a growl to rumble through his chest. Snatching up your hands, he pulled you flush against him again. He devours your mouth with uncontrolled need. Lust was all but dripping from him, but the underlying affection would not be drowned out. Cregan was a man of few words more often than not, so he preferred to show you all that you meant to him. 

Hands taking hold of your hips, he maneuvered you to his bed. His eyes shining with tenderness as you let him lay you down on the mattress. The furs covering the sheets were soft beneath you, surrounding you in a comforting embrace. Cregan stood over you for a moment before going to his knees. Spreading your legs apart, he made home between them, his shoulders coming up under your knees. 

He wanted to taste every inch of you, trail his lips and tongue along every curve and sensitive patch of skin he could find. Hands coming up to the straps of your shift, he paused to see you already shaking your head. He grinned to himself as he removed the last bit of fabric hiding you from him. Off your shoulders to reveal your breasts, down your sides to uncover your stomach, and finally letting it fall away to bare your center to him. 

“Let me taste you.” He rumbled, his voice dropping deeper than you’d ever heard it. It’s timbre shooting a buzz of delight through you. The heat in your belly grows hotter, filling you with yearning that threatens to break you. 

You nodded, feeling the warmth trickle down to your core. “Yes, please.” Those two words were all he needed—your breathy answer coaxing an unquenchable thirst within him. And he intends to drink his fill. 

He kissed his way down your body. Guaranteeing you felt every kiss pressed to your skin and every scrap of his teeth. You were growing breathless already, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Anticipation makes your heart thud wildly inside your chest.

His lips gave attention to every plane of your body. Scorching his path from your neck to your breasts, and then to your stomach to make his way to your thighs. 

A low grumble crawled up his throat when your fingers tangled themselves in his hair. The heavy pressure of his mouth slid closer up the inside of your thigh, nipping at the skin there before going over it with his tongue. He could all but smell your arousal now this close to your center. The hunger to dive right in was almost overwhelming. The broad expanse of his shoulders pushed your legs further apart. Settling them over his back, his hand gripped the flesh of your thighs. 

As the breath caught in your throat, your stomach swirled with delicious nerves. The warm slick gathered between your thighs was a glittering treasure Cregan took for himself. A surge of self-satisfaction rippled through him. 

He takes in the wiggling of your body on his bed and hears the shaky inhales of your breath. Your thighs were twitching in his hold as he sank his teeth into the soft skin once more. You were like silk, smooth under his touch. The difference of his calloused fingers against your velvet skin was pure excellence in his eyes. 

The first kiss he gave your slit knocked the breath from your lungs. When he licked a burning stripe up your core, your hearing grew fuzzy. His movements were careful and calculated to push you to the edge of complete insanity. 

His arms around your hips went to bring you closer, a groan clawing up his throat as he pursued the pleasure of your cunt. He opened you to him with his tongue, desperate for whatever you granted him. A whine parted your lips as your hands gripped at his hair, your hips chasing the feel of his mouth without you even realizing it. 

He was nothing if not formidable, even while he lapped at your wetness like a man starved. Resting between your legs, shoulders tensed with the vigor of his movements. He was solely focused on you, moaning into your center absently like he had never tasted something so sweet. He would spend the rest of his days with his face buried in your cunt if he could. 

The heated cord within your belly continuously wound tighter and tighter with every swipe of his tongue. His mouth was ravenous, kissing and sucking with urgency, like if he didn’t make you come on his mouth, he would die.

“Cregan.” You sighed, writhing within his hold, causing his arms to grow tighter around you, locking you in place. The feeling was complete euphoria but also the sweetest torture at the same time. You yanked on the dark stands of his hair, urging him closer as if he wasn’t already practically inside you. “Please, don’t stop.” You begged, glancing down to see his starry eyes stuck on you. 

He wasn’t about to let such a saccharine request go unanswered. But he also wasn’t going to let you squirm and wiggle about as you pleased. His belly was raging with hot fire, waiting for the chance to be released. His cock strained against his trousers, aching with the need to be inside of you. But he wanted to taste you spilling on his tongue first. He kept up with his heavy strokes against your center, drawing you closer and closer to your peak. 

You were like honey on his tongue, surgery and sweet, all for him to devour. Listening to the melody of your whines and moans quickly became his favorite music. It brought him pleasure almost as much as it did you to know the ruinous state he’s gotten you in. 

Your legs began to shake around his head, small tremors of ecstasy swimming through you. Cregan raked the path from your entrance to your clit with his tongue, circling the bundle of nerves a few times before taking it in his mouth. The soft gasps of his name that came from your lips as he sucked on your pearl were maddening. It had his fingers digging harder into the pliant flesh of your thighs, surely leaving bruises he would have to kiss once this was all over. 

He was known to all as a stoic and serious man, but when he flicked his silver-hued eyes at you, they were nothing if not a flurry of affection. The sight of you on his bed breathless and lost to the pleasure he was giving you was heart-stopping. He had always thought you to be the prettiest girl he’d ever known, but now he likened you to a goddess. You had bewitched him body and soul. 

His mouth still worked over your core. Switching between dipping his tongue into your entrance and wrapping his lips around your clit. Whenever he sucked the nerves in his mouth, he was rewarded with the prettiest sound to ever grace his ears. A high-pitched whine that slowly faded to a deep sigh. 

You wanted to close your legs around his head, lock him there for the foreseeable future. But every time you moved your legs, he pried them apart, keeping you open to him so he could lavish his affection upon your cunt. His nose nudged your pearl whenever he dipped further down. You didn’t know how much more you could take. The peak was right there within your grasp; you just needed something to push you the rest of the way. 

He was unrelenting, seemingly just as obsessed with bringing you apart with his mouth. A scream ripped past your lips as Cregan took your clit back in his mouth once more. His teeth bit down on the sensitive bundle of nerves, not hard enough to break skin but just enough to shoot a spike of pleasure pain down your spine. He drew his teeth away and soothed your pearl with his tongue.

“Cregan!” You sputtered, hips lurching forward to chase his mouth. You felt as though your whole body was on fire, that any moment now you would burst into flames. Your eyes screwed shut as stars exploded behind your eyelids. He dragged his teeth over your clit again, making your grip on his hair tighten even more. If you weren’t so out of it, you would have worried about pulling his hair out completely. “Do that again.” You pleaded with a trembling breath. 

A huff of mild amusement escaped him before he was wrapping his mouth around your pearl and biting. He pulled at it with his teeth only to release it and sooth it over with his tongue. He drew whimper after whimper, moan after moan out of you. All the while, your legs shook around him with the weight of your impending release. 

“Gods, I’m close!” A pleading moan tore past your lips, brain going hazy with the mounting pleasure. Your nails dug into his scalp as the cord grew taunt. The roughness didn’t discourage him, though. It merely made him all the more determined to push you over into oblivion. 

“Please.” You spoke out into the air. A few more moments of his ministrations: bite, pull, sooth, suck. The cord snapped. A sharp gasp sounded from you as you shook like you were back in the cold winds outside. Everything spilled over; goosebumps erupted over your flesh. The heated tidal wave of your release rushing along your body. The sheer power of it having your back arching from the bed. 

It felt as if your body was humming as your peak subsided slowly. Sinking back upon the furs, you untangled your fingers from Cregan’s hair. He was still gently lapping at your wetness as you reluctantly pushed him away. He lifted his head, eyes looking upon you with such reverence. 

He kissed his way up your thighs, making sure to pay extra attention to the bruises he’d left. His lips were soft and caring on your sensitive skin. As he made his way further upwards, he pressed his face into your stomach. “I love you.” He whispered so faintly into your skin you weren’t sure if he even realized he said it. 

“What?” You gasped, going up on your elbows to look at him. Face still buried in your middle, he murmured it again. This time raising his eyes to gauge your reaction. “You do?” You mumbled, becoming flustered all over again. 

He crawled over you, covering your body beneath his burly physique as he claimed your lips. Your hand went to his cheek, tasting yourself on his tongue. “I do,” he husked. You took a moment to look at him, his eyes shining with adoration. “You still doubt my affections?” 

You’re shaking your head instantly. “No,” you protest. “I simply didn’t expect you to say that.” You were grinning like a fool, mouth curved upwards in a beaming smile. He returned it, with one albeit smaller than yours, but it was still all him. You laughed into the kiss he gave you as he situated himself back between your legs. 

“Allow me to show you then.” He spoke in a hushed voice. All you had to do was nod, and he was shucking off his breeches, kicking them from the bed. 

You couldn’t see him, but you felt him big and hard against your thigh. Nerves swirled within you—not that he would ever hurt you intentionally, but that there would be no way around it hurting. You knew he would put your well-being above all else, though. 

The barely-there smile still rested upon his face. “You’re still smiling.” You point out completely besotted with this mountain of a man. 

“Hush woman.” He let out a humming noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. It was difficult to keep up his stone-like appearance in your presence. It always had been, but with your wide eyes looking up at him still hazy with pleasure, it was increasingly harder. 

Bodies aligned and chests pressed against each other, you leaned up your lips searching for him, wanting another kiss. The kiss was as sweet as honey, soft as silk, much like you. From deep within his throat, a low rumble of approval echoed, and his eyebrows furrowed together as he returned the kiss with fervor.

You went to wrap your arms around his shoulders and found you could barely touch your hands together at the nape of his neck. Still though, it didn’t stop you from racking your nails across his skin. Hoping it would spurn him on. His cock rocked against your thigh, tip hitting your core for a split second. 

“Patience, my girl.” He warned, rough palm soothing back your hair. “Slowly, I don’t want to hurt you.” He kissed a line across your collarbone, nose skimming along your skin. You felt him slide up along your thigh, the tip nudging at your entrance again. Just that little friction had shivers racing up and down your spine. 

He canted his hips forward, pushing just slightly into your cunt. He was as big as he seemed evidently; the sting spread further as he slid in slowly. Inch by inch, with every ridge and vein feeling like it was being imprinted inside you. Once he was half way seated, you couldn’t keep quiet any longer. A faint grunt of discomfort slipped past you. Your hand gripping the nape of his neck tightly. 

He paused, looking down at you. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“Keep going. I’m alright.” You promised, loosening your hold on him. He pressed a soothing kiss to your hairline before he pressed forward again. 

Having him inside you even halfway was something you would have to get used to. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant; the stretch and sting were fading already. Once he was fully inside, the feeling of him filling you was almost overwhelming in the best ways. Cregan gave you ample time to adjust, holding himself back from rutting into you. He never wished to harm you, even if your warm tightness was the most incredible thing he’d ever felt. 

You tested your limits by rolling your hips to meet his. A hiss left the both of you as his cock slid even deeper, hitting some part of you that had you seeing stars. “Move.” You urged, back arching to press against him. 

He drew out only to snap his hips forward, driving himself back in. Taking care to be as gentle as he could, he began a harsh but deep hitting pace. He was ardent in his lovemaking, cock thrusting into you, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. He was keeping good on his promise to show you just how much he loved you. 

You wrapped a leg around his hips, his hand instantly going to hold it in place. Fingers lightly running across your skin. Your other leg spread wider for him, giving him as much room as you could to accommodate his size. A melody of whines and gasps flew from you with every thrust. Your nails running down the rippling strength of his back. 

His face was hidden in your neck, lips assaulting your skin. Bruising kisses were placed wherever he could reach. Teeth joining to nip here and there, leaving marks that you would deal with later. He pounded into you with equal fervor and tenderness. Cregan was nothing if not devoted in all things, so each thrust was measured to ensure he seated himself fully inside you every time. 

With the whole of Winterfell in the great hall or asleep, you worried not about concealing the volume of your moans. Needy whines and whimpers left you, one after the other. A particularly harsh snap of his hips had you stuttering out his name. You felt like you were being split in two, but it was the most pleasurable thing you’d ever experienced. 

The friction of your bodies sliding together was addicting. Each glide of his cock along your innerwalls drove you closer and closer to another peak. Walls tightening around him, drawing a muffled curse, he spoke into your neck. Your hands went to his hair once again, bringing his mouth to yours. You kissed him as his cock kissed your womb. Your lips molded together as he dug his fingers into the flesh of your thigh. 

You nipped at his bottom lips as he had done to you, causing a growl to rumble up his throat. There was urgency about him now, with his release building and building buzzing at the base of his spine. 

He dropped the hold on your thigh, planting his weight on his forearms by your head. Using the leverage to rut inside you at a faster and deeper pace. Intensity danced between you as his cock drove into you, seated fully inside you, then pulling out only to plunge back in. 

There was an almost divine feeling to being inside of you. As if Cregan was made for you and you were made for him. He had to wed you, had to say the vows beneath the Weirwood tree, and make you his wife. His Lady of Winterfell. 

He groaned at the thought, snatching your lips between his own for another blazing kiss. Teeth knocking together and tongues sliding over each other—this was not a romantic kiss. It was full of base needs and wants. The drive to claim you as his and never give another man the chance to see you like this. You were his. 

“Cregan please.” You pleaded into his mouth, your breath mingling together. He didn’t relent; your whispered appeal only spurred him on. He was aching and pulsing inside you. Cock thrusting so deeply, he vaguely pictured you struggling to walk in the morning. The thought sent a smug ripple down his spine. Your thighs were trembling, and with this being your first time taking him, you very likely will be sore. 

“Do you have another in you?” He huffed out the question. His release was just within his reach, but he wanted to feel you gush around him first. Have the tightness of your walls gripping him like steel as he pushes into you for the last time before spilling his seed. 

“Mhm.” You hummed around your harmony of whimpers and gasps. You rolled your hips to meet his as if to further prove what you wanted. The friction doing delicious things to the both of you. 

You’d lost count of how many times he’d sunk into you. It was too many to keep up with. But the look that glimmered in his eyes told you it wouldn’t be much longer until another rush of euphoria greeted you. 

His cock battered into you, his pace becoming faster than before. His hands moved from beside your head to grip your hips. Fingers sliding under to hold the small of your back, he lifted you slightly off the bed. The new angle had him hitting that spot within you that had you writhing up to meet him. Your senses became cloudy with nothing but the feeling of him inside breaking through. 

“That’s it, my girl.” He husked out, feeling you shudder beneath him as your cunt clamped down on his length. He kept up his pace, racing after his own peak. Lowering you back down to rest on the furs again, he groaned heavy and hot into your neck as he spilled inside of you. The warmth exploded at the base of his spine and spread. Keeping his hips moving to help you both ride out your pleasure, he thrusted into you a few more times. 

You whimpered as he withdrew from you, but he was quick to soothe you with a slow kiss to your lips. You fingers threaded through his brown tresses holding him to you. The display was all care and affection, a stark contrast to the intense moment between you just seconds ago.

When he rolled off you, he didn’t go far, his large form laying out beside you and drawing you to his side. His strong arm slung around you, locking you to his side. 

An easy silence fell over you as you both regained your senses. The aftermath of your coupling filled to tender caresses of hands over heated skin. Soft presses of his lips upon your jaw, making your head relax into the pillow. 

You weren’t aware of how much time passed before a halting thought crossed your mind. “Should I not leave?” You asked. Cregan furrowed his brows at you as if you were speaking in riddles. “There will surely be whispers if I am seen in your chambers in the morning,” you clarified. 

“Nonsense,” he dismissed. His hold on you becomes tighter and a touch more protective. “You will be my wife soon enough. Whatever any of my people have to say about it, they will do well to make sure I do not hear of it.” 

Completely smitten with him as well as his response, you choose not to argue. Much preferring to settle back into his warmth and spend the night caged within his arms.

I think this is the longest fic I have ever wrote, but I'm in love with it.

﹙taglist﹚@madame-fear

[e1dritchjackal0pe]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏɪᴅ ᴄᴀʟʟꜱ

Summary: Your arranged marriage to the na-Baron is something that you look upon with a sense of dread and reluctance. His violence, brutality and cunning are something that haunts you. You should fear him. You do. But for some reason, you can't seem to stay away.

Warnings: 18+ content. MDI. AFAB, she/her pronouns. Reader is a virgin but not entirely inexperienced, virginity loss. Hints of morally gray reader. Oral (F!Receiving), biting and blood, PinV, non-protected sex, Canon typical violence (blood, death, gladiator fights). Feyd. Not proofread.

Notes: 20.4k words. The essence of enemies to lovers. The reader is an Atreides but not a daughter of Jessica. IDK ya'll, something about seeing Austin Butler bald and deranged has altered me.

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. 

Your heart is in your throat. It feels as though it's lodged itself in place between the cartilage and flesh to choke your windpipe, making each breath snag and tremble. You can practically feel it pulsing along your pharynx. You try to focus, steeling yourself by lacing your fingers together until you fear you might break them. Not even the litany that has been engrained in you since childhood serves to center your thoughts, but still you try. Chanting lowly in your head and quietly under your breath as not to be heard. As not to reveal your anxiety, but you know that the evidence of your distress must be more than obvious. And it had been very apparent since this morning, as you prepared for your travel to Giedi Prime where you will be married. 

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

The looks that Lady Jessica had given you were harsh and piercing. The eyes of a teacher. You had found no forgiveness in her arms even though she has done her best to take the place of your mother. But she is a Bene Gesserit first. Always. Just as you must be. But you must also be an Atreides. Duty is your purpose. It runs in your blood. It's the very reason why you pull air into your lungs. It's why you were even born. You have to honor that. Even if it requires sacrifice. Even if fear trembles down each and every notch of your spine; even when your thoughts are scattered and wild; even with the entire trajectory of your life being placed into the palms of some of the most ruthless beings in the universe. You will survive. 

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

You swallow harshly, trying to force down your nerves with it but the way that the craft shudders and trembles with the strain of breaking through the foreign planet's atmosphere doesn't help. It only serves to make your inner turmoil worse. Your gaze sweeps around the cabin, a hollow thing meant for military, not comfort, and the presence of a small squad clad in their combat armor reminds you of the strained relationship that your family has nurtured with this house for several millennia. A reminder that you aren't supposed to be here on your own. Nearly clawing at your own hands and struggling to center yourself as the cold, dark walls of the ship tremble and shake like the stomach of starved animal. Your wedding was supposed to take place on Richese, a neutral planet that no longer governs political alliances with neither Caladan nor Giedi Prime. That is what had been negotiated long before you were even born, with both Houses having been too paranoid to allow both products of their lineage onto enemy territory. But a month before the wedding, the Baron had sent word. An invitation of sorts, that he wished to encourage the House of Atreides to allow the union to commence on his soil as a token of good faith. As a signal that all of the bad blood and the violence shared between each party could finally be laid to rest.

But as with most houses, it was more than just an invitation. It strengthened the Harkonnen image to place forth the olive branch and if Duke Leto refused it could be seen in bad light. A sign of weakness or distaste. The summoning could not be refused lest it smear the Atreides name in the eye of the Emperor, always a fickle and superficial man. Even with that logic, you can't help the spike of anger that rouses in your chest and threatens to burn. It's because of that sense, no matter how correct it may be, that you're sitting in this damned ship, breaking into the polluted atmosphere of a dead planet when you could have had just one more day on soil that wasn't obscured and marred by heavy cities and volcanic rock. 

Selfish. You're just being selfish. 

Even though she is not here to guide you, the image of Lady Jessica's eyes flash within your mind, sharp and exacting despite their light shade; amplified by the delicate, embroidered fabric that framed her head just this morning.  School your face, her expression tells you. And she - or at least the mental image of her, is right. You can't let yourself fall to your emotions, no matter how strongly they want to eat you alive. You've prepared for this moment since your first breath. You've spent nearly every waking moment practicing in the ways of the Bene Gesserit under the guidance of Lady Jessica. You'vee spent countless hours poring over the history and politics of both houses in preparation for your future role; what must have amounted to months of studying the culture and customs of the Harkonnen. All of them seem to be rooted in violence and savagery in some way or another. Aggression and cunning are prized traits. Bloodshed is coveted. The people according to old texts and educational filmbooks are just as severe as their environment. An environment that they had cultivated from their brutal and avaricious nature, tearing up all of its resources until nothing was left. 

You can't help but wonder if you will suffer the same fate. 

But if you are going to be honest with yourself, it isn't the toxic hellscape or even the idea of marriage that puts you on edge. It is him. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is someone who is notorious for his violence. Stories of his conquests and cruelty echo out across the houses, Minor and Major; there is not a soul who hasn't heard of his reputation. And despite having been promised to him since before your birth, you haven't met the na-Baron once in your life. Both houses had been too stubborn to schedule an interaction between the two of you. Most likely due to mistrust. Plus, a meeting isn't necessarily required for a marriage to commence, not one amongst houses, at least. But the fact that you haven't so much as seen the na-Baron's face has always left you feeling horribly vulnerable. Like you have been left to navigate you footing in the dark and the slightest misstep might leave you to tumble into the void. It had been another reason why you have always been so adamant on learning of the Harkonnen people; some desperate venture to discover as much about your soon to be husband as possible. You've tried to paint some sort of image of him in your head with the information provided by word of mouth and old filmbooks. Gurney had been one of the first people to warn you of Harkonnen ruthlessness. Their proclivity towards greed and violence. A violence that they don't even spare their own people from. 

"You will have to be strong," he told you just before you had boarded onto the star craft, eager to speak to you before you left forever. It was his worry you knew. He was panicked inside despite being the picture of composure. The look in his eyes had kept you frozen in place, locked onto him even with the mild thrum of chaos and bodies clamoring around you, servants and soldiers alike working to prep the ship for your flight, loading trunks and chests full of your personal belongings onto the carrier. It was firm; the type of resolution that is brought from experience. From a personal sort of pain and the glint of it left you feeling empty; gutted. The only thing that kept you centered was the grip of his hand on your forearm, firm and warm in its hold like it may help to drill his words better into your skull. "Every moment will be a fight for you. Harkonnen sniff out weakness like dogs. You cannot yield. Ever." 

You've heard words like that about them all your life. Horror stories from Atreides soldiers who had encounters with opposing Harkonnen forces. Tales of stark, pale skin and the glint of snarling blackened teeth before they deliver a killing blow. Features that a younger version of yourself never would have imagined for her intended. But those naive, wistful fantasies that you used to entertain as a child are long gone now. Replaced by the harsh realities of war and bloodshed. When you were a girl, still ignorant to the true depth of your duties, you had imagined someone with kind, intelligent eyes as your future husband. Someone patient and understanding; even with the whispers of the Harkonnen's true nature lurking over you like leaping shadows. But back then you were young enough to have hope. Back then, you would dream of him too in the flashes of deep, piercing eyes; you'd hear the low rumble of a voice while blades flashed and carved through pale air. 

 And on some nights visions still torment you. But now they taunt with the sensation of phantom touches and the mirage of balmy skin that sears against you own so intently that sometimes it tears you from your slumber with ragged breaths and a humiliating heat between your thighs. 

You can feel the pressure in the cabin shift around you, weighing over your head and bearing down on your shoulders as the ship continues its descent. Your ears pop, and the sound has the awful, paranoid visual of snapping bones and tendons projecting across your mind. You pull a heavy breath into your lungs, holding it there while you try to shift your thoughts onto something less violent. Escaping to fond memories to try and soothe yourself. For a just a moment you pretend that you are not here at all, but back home on Caladan. You can see the ocean. The long stretch of crystalline water, glittering underneath the cast of the balmy sunlight as trawlers coast along the current to capture netfuls of fish, looking like dots along the distant horizon. But it's always the wind that you love the most. Even when the skies are clear, unmarred from the blot of heavy rainclouds, you can always smell the presence of a storm in the air, perfuming the breeze with the earthy musk of petrichor and the fresh salt of the ocean. You can practically feel the brush of lush grass sweeping along your palms, prickling along the sensitive skin with the damp hint of the dew that seeps from the rich ground. 

Your reverie is shattered to a million pieces when the metallic hum of the craft's engine reverberates across the walls and floor of the cabin, signaling that it is approaching the ground; preparing to land. Each pulse of the sharp groan sounds like the pound of a nail in a casket. You can just barely focus around the wild patter of your heartbeat in your ears and for a moment you think that you might become ill. You could still feel the warmth of your brother's arms around your body. The way that he had clung to you. Like he was afraid to let go; to watch you slip from his life. In turn you had latched onto him, hesitant to unwind your arms from him, trying to claim the feel and scent of him to memory. But you couldn't have remained that way forever, and when you had pulled away from each other, the corners of his mouth were perked up into a smile. But it was too dull, too forced to be truly happy. You saw something mournful peeking through it, even while he tried to appear composed for your sake. You know how much he opposes of your intended matrimony. You have eavesdropped on the arguments he has shared with your father behind closed doors, attempting to fight for your sake even though it was a lost cause. His fear that you might not survive the ruthlessness of the Harkonnen, his misguided guilt for you taking his intended place. It had made you sorry for him the first time he had confessed that remorse to you. That he felt as though he was the one to blame for your marriage because it was his initial future to wed into the Harkonnen House had he not been born a male. Even with your near constant insistence that it was not his burden to bear, he refused to shed the weight of his self-imposed guilt. Always so damn stubborn. 

You had done your best to return his smile, softly squeezing his hand to comfort him and center your mind while the briny Caladan wind swept across the landing pad. But the memory cannot keep your heart from plummeting down to your gut when the craft finally touches the ground, shuddering lightly as it lands with a deep whir. 

You're here. You are actually on Giedi Prime now. 

There is officially no turning back. 

You feel like a ghost when you are drawn to rise, and you hardly register the fact that you haven't moved from your place on the seating to stand on your feet once the ship is still. You feel like an empty vessel, seeing but not registering as everyone moves about the empty space with practiced ease to stand before the hatch. The small unit of four soldiers have all built a formation around you and your own handmaidens, who stand diligently behind you. On any other occasion, they would have lined themselves in front of you all as well. Especially during affairs with the Harkonnen. But this is not a regular affair, and as trivial as it may seem, something as simple as guards posed in front of the Duke's daughter could be viewed as an act of distrust. A blight on your wedding and the union of the houses. 

Despite the way that everyone holds themselves; the images of discipline with perfect posture and heads held high, the apprehension that taints the atmosphere could be mistaken for a tangible thing. You could still see glimpses of tension set in the soldiers' shoulders; you could see the rigidity in their necks, anticipation and worry hidden underneath their armor.

Your father should be here too. Your family. But you know that they can't. A matter of ill, convenient timing that required them to board their own ship to leave for Arrakis. The Emperor had passed the fief to the House of Atreides, calling them to abandon their position on Caladan - to abandon your ancestorial home - in favor for the desert and the production of spice. It was an unexpected development, but one that your father would not turn down. As angry as you would like to be, you know how difficult this is for him. You have wanted to blame him for so long. And for a while you did. He's your father. He is supposed to protect you. To keep your happiness and security in mind. But because of the perspective, it is also easy to forget that he is more than just your father, he is also a Duke, with countless lives to defend and shelter. He is an Atreides. 

You are an Atreides, and there is no call you do not answer. 

You had shared one final look with him on Caladan, underneath the golden rays of the morning sun.  You didn't flinch or waver underneath his gaze. You remained firm, and some sort of understanding passed between the both of you, melting away the hatred and betrayal that ran thick in your blood stream. In that split second, you saw so much pass through his eyes: determination, acceptance and something like a bare shred of loss before it was quickly masked by unwavering resolve. A resolve that you too had to master. 

A dull jolt sounds out across the dark, metallic space and with it the large hatch of the ship begins to open, exposing a sliver of pale light. Butterflies erupt inside of your gut at the sight of the glow, brushing along your stomach and threatening to overcome you with a rush of nausea. But you hold yourself still, attempting to swallow down the unease but suddenly your throat is bone dry and stuffed with cotton. Perhaps the only thing that keeps you in place is the promise the Feyd-Rautha will not be present at your arrival. A small respite that your father had been able to secure you in the form of a Caladan wedding custom; that your husband should not be able to see you before your ceremony, lest the matrimony fall to bad luck. And in truth it is a tradition. One that has trickled down through the ages from Old Earth, so it was not necessarily done by means of deceit. Even so, the Baron had apparently been less than thrilled by the prospect of keeping you and his nephew separated once on the same soil, though it seems that your father still had managed to persuade him regardless. A small victory for you at least. 

Now all you can do is hope that the Baron has stuck to his word. 

You watch with ice in your veins and frozen lungs as the ramp continues to lower, yawning open akin to the jaws of an animal that threatens to discard you at the feet of starving beasts like scraps. More of that harsh light flows into the dark of the cabin, spilling over the heads of the soldiers, eating up the floor until it slips over your body, rising up over you until it reaches your eyes like a blaze; threatening to blind you with its intensity. You wince from the brightness of it, blinking rapidly until your eyes adjust to the absence of shadows. The surprised, low hiss that erupts from behind you, tells you that one of your handmaidens has also been taken off guard and blinded. 

With the continuation of its descent, it begins to reveal a blackened skyline of buildings that rise like slopping monoliths. Massive structures eat up the ground and cast stretching shadows across the dark platform. It strikes you that the little bit of the visible sky is a pale, as though a flat storm cloud had consumed the heavens. It isn't blue like the skies back home, or even orange or anything. It is simply a white void. It's all monochrome. Devoid of color and life. Everywhere that you look is either a piercing black or a violent white that almost burns to behold, and it is with a quick, almost hesitant inspection downward that you discover that the emerald hue of your silk dress has turned a shade of a deep smoky black from the strange illumination. 

But you don't get time to dwell on the discovery for long before the ramp meets the ground with a dull groan. It might as well as be a death sentence. You just barely catch sight of the of the figures that are lined along the platform, silently waiting for you to step out into the light. In your stupor, you have noticed that the number of Harkonnen that wait for your exit is a rather small group. It is not a massive procession with banners or celebration; there is no intrigued crowd of citizens awaiting to evaluate you. No more than five Harkonnen stand out on the platform, focusing on you with the distance the separates your parties with clasped hands and heads held high. The Baron it seems, holds no excitement for your arrival and has made no effort to welcome you on Giedi Prime. The message has been made clear of what he thinks of this union. Of you. 

The bastard. 

The world has gone hush. Dead silent as everyone awaits your move. And it is with that thought suddenly that you realize that everyone is waiting for you to take action. You are no longer expected to follow. You aren't allowed the crutch of following after your father or Lady Jessica's footsteps. They aren't here to guide you anymore. You steel yourself with a deep breath, drawing up your shoulders as you will yourself to step forward. Your legs are suddenly heavy like they have been strapped down with boulders and iron, but you force them into a stride regardless. Even when each move forward feels like a motion closer to your demise. 

You can hear the gentle clink of your Handmaidens heels as they dutifully trail after you. It gives you some comfort, no matter how small, that you have some familiar faces amongst you. That you aren't completely alone here. 

Still, you try to distract yourself. And in some mad scramble, your mind latches onto some old passage that you had read back on Caladan during one of your distant studies. It has you daring to sneak a few glances upward to the pale sky in between your focus forward, squinting through the glare, ignoring the way that the delicate chained veil draped across your face nudges against your eyelashes in your search for the sun. You had heard of its description countless times, seen holograms of it before, but none of them had managed to do the true thing honesty. In its blaze, it is claimed to cast an infrared shine which explains the bleak, washout coloration of the planet. But seeing the source of said lighting was entirely different. You do your best not to openly gawk at. To not stare at it for too long. The last thing that you want is to go blind; your fortune is terrible enough as is. But you're unable to stop yourself from stealing fleeting peeks at the star. If you didn't know any better, you could have mistaken it for a sort of eclipse. It looks like a black hole has torn through the heavens, gaping like an open wound, and you would have no idea that it was burning if not for the streams of light radiating from its rounded edges like a halo. 

Even with the remnants of your hatred smoldering through your body and turning your muscles rigid, you can't deny that there is a kind of odd beauty about the star. It's strange to see something that you had learned about so many years ago, and there is some detached part of you that has not fully accepted that you are even truly here. That small piece is still safely tucked away on Caladan, admiring as the sea meets the cliffside in a rolling crest of foam and froth. 

But that still is not enough to keep you from your reality. 

You all come to a unanimous halt, standing to leave a decent breadth between you and the Harkonnen. You have heard many things of the Baron of Giedi Prime. His guile. His hedonism. Whispers among the houses claimed him to be a gargantuan man. Someone whose intensity and mannerisms alone command attention and make men cower. The Baron, you quickly deduce, is not here. It seems that he has sent his advisors and servants in his stead. Whether that be from arrogance or indolence, or hatred, you are not sure. 

The man who stands at the in the center of the greeting committee holds himself with an air of importance. Back straight and hands clasped as he analyzes your small party. He is awfully pallid, just as his other companions are, a product of being denied ultraviolet rays that could be found in your planets own sun. The hulking black star cradled in the sky above you is hardly able to provide a proper tan it seems. The stark, unforgiving light casted from the solar body bathes you all in a layer of an achromatic hue, and it glints across the rounded skin of his bare scalp. They are all bald, you have easily observed, and you can just faintly recall reading a chapter in regard to Harkonnen beauty standards. Their proclivity to remove every ounce of hair from their bodies as a sign of cleanliness and purity; the means to extract themselves from their meek beginnings and perhaps, to a degree, a way to separate themselves from humanity. But the dark vertical strip that stretches across the expanse of his bottom lip signifies his position as a Mentat. 

"Lady Atreides," the Harkonnen advisor greets, voice deceptively placid and monotone. "We are grateful for your arrival. I trust that the trip was respectable." His words are kind, but the expression on his face is decidedly neutral. There is something about him that instantly unnerves you. Be it the unrushed nature of his mannerisms or the sly look in his eyes, you are not sure, but he sets you on edge. 

You force yourself to speak, calming your features into something just as blank and fixed as his own. "It was fair," you answer truthfully, before pointedly scanning the surrounding area. "It is a beautiful planet." A lie is you have ever said one, and the Mentat does not appear to be ignorant to your sad attempt at charm. Even with the unmoved aura that radiates from him, you are sure that you spotted a small glimmer of amusement pass through the dark of his eyes. 

"I am pleased you think so," he replies easily. "In any case, I have my orders to deliver you to the Baron as soon as possible. An event is being held in the honor of your union to the na-Baron. You shall not want to miss it." 

The confession feels as though it has doused you with ice water, but you refuse to show your distress. You're not stupid. You know that at some point, you would have to face the Baron. You were just hoping that it would not have been so soon. You should have known better, you suppose, that the Baron would give you single moment of reprieve once on his planet, and now you are suddenly not so sure that you want to have to attend a celebration of any sort. 

"Wonderful," you force a smile, one as polite you can manage while making sure to keep your voice gentle and inviting. 

"Leave your soldiers here. They won't be necessary." 

The request leaves you troubled. For a moment you stand there silently, a little dumbly even. That last thing you want to do is leave your only form of proper protection outside on an unfamiliar world. Especially one as hostile and deceitful as Giedi Prime. But you do not have many options here. You are in no true form of power. You are not yet married to the na-Baron, you are lightyears away from your own planet - which doesn't belong to your family anymore by the Emperor's decree - and your father must be on Arrakis by now; even farther away. You are now the one who dictates your fate and survival, and although promised to the na-Baron, your life is still not secured. You must be tactful. 

You turn your head to look over your shoulder at the soldiers who diligently stand behind you and your handmaidens. Your focus meets the unwavering stare of the lieutenant; his hardened countenance, his lips pressed into a firm line. The nod you give him is subtle, but it is still a command, and with it, he and his men silently step back. 

When you return your attention back on the Mentat it is difficult to tell if he is pleased or not with how blank he keeps his features. It's unnerving but then he spins on his heels without any more fanfare and his fellow Harkonnen are quick to shadow him. Hesitation bears heavy in your gut, but even with your instinct telling you to run; to flee, you steel yourself. Drawing in a deep breath to clear your mind, you follow. 

You are not sure what you had expected to find when you had allowed the Mentat to lead you. Some wild, senseless part of you feared that he may have taken you to your death. Led you to a trap to be slaughtered. But no dagger has been raised to your chest. He has not summoned soldiers from the shadows to pull you away and toss you into a tomb. Or maybe in a way he has. 

The doorway that you stand before is daunting. Affixed in front of you like a rival. It is such a trivial, ordinary thing. You have passed through thresholds millions of times in your years, twisted knobs and guided doors open to pass through them. But suddenly, such a mundane thing seems to stand out like a hazardous sign - a bad omen. You know who lies beyond it. Who you must face. Now your bravery threatens to allude you. To leave you abandoned and flailing. It does not help that your handmaidens had been dismissed for you. Guided away by Harkonnen servants, and when you had asked the Mentat as to where they were being taken, what intentions lie ahead for them, he didn't answer. His silence on the matter has left you disturbed; fueled your mind to wonder and theorize about the worst. That they may be harmed. 

He stands next to you now, just as silent as before, watching you expectedly. 

No. You cannot flounder here. You cannot cower or cry. Your duty - your lineage will not allow it. 

With a newfound determination, you step forward with your chin raised proudly. Activated by the motion, the dark door slips open, beckoning you enter, and you answer the invitation without wavering. The Mentat doesn't follow after you, but you hardly pay that any mind, too focused on analyzing the room that you now stand in. The space is open and capacious, and you spot a line of servant girls rowed up to the right with their backs against the wall. They don't glance up when you look at them, even though you can tell that they are aware of your presence. They remain silent, eyes trained on the floor and posture rigid. There is fear in them. 

As if drawn by a magnetic pull, you attention leaves them to wander to the opposite end of the room. His back is facing you, but even then, you are certain that all of the stories you have heard of him will not prepare you for this moment. Even as he perches - lounges on the support of his seat from fully across the room, his presence commands your attention. The order that his being silently instructs is only amplified by the cool, harsh light that pours down around him from the viewing window, highlighting his shape as he sits like a gargoyle poised. The gossip was true, it seems, he is a corpulent man and shares the same ashen complexation as the other Harkonnen that you have seen thus far. And suddenly as curiosity burns in you to see the face of the person who has harmed so many, who has left his blight on the galaxy. 

"Are you joining me, or are you intent on staying in the shadows?" 

The voice is so rough and crude that it shocks you, prickling over your skin with the all the coarseness of sandpaper, and you just barely refrain from showing your displeasure at its harshness. It's graveled as it passes into your ears, but it seizes one's attention instantly, causing the hairs scattered along your body and at the nape of your neck to stand on end. Still you move forward, by the impulse of your own intrigue or the authoritative quality of his voice, you aren't certain, but you cross the breadth that separates you all the same. Each step reveals more of his face to you. The slope of his nose, the crow's feet that cluster around the corners of his eyes, the prominent frown that weighs upon his face. He doesn't spare you a glance as you stop beside him; intently focused on what lies outside of the balcony. 

"Lord Baron," you greet, nodding your head down and bending your knees in a curtsy. 

His hand raises up in a manner than almost seems reprimanding, and it causes you to freeze still, staring at those fingers like he might mean to strike you. But the curl of them is far too lax to deliver a proper blow and it is enough to give you some relief. 

"There is no need for formalities, " he speaks. Then his stare is on you: flaying you open, evaluating, weighing, searching your worth. But underneath the judgement of someone like him, you cannot waver. "We are family now, are we not?" 

The mere implication has you fighting off the urge to shudder in disgust. Instead, you straighten yourself and manage a polite smile. Or you hope that it seems polite at least. Thankfully, he doesn't wait for your answer. He casts a brief glance to the vacant chair close you, and you need no verbal instruction on what he wants, even though he still gives it. 

"Sit," he offers. Commands really. 

 It pains you to comply, to follow the will of the man that you have been guided to resent since you realized consciousness, no matter how small the order, but you swallow your pride. 

Carefully you turn on your feet, being mindful not to nudge the small table that is posted beside the chair, and you make note of the pair of theater binoculars that are displayed on the counter, waiting to be used. Gathering the light pull of your skirt to sit without crumbling the fabric, you allow yourself to recline in the seat and try to ignore how close you are to the Baron. But you suppose that you should learn to come to terms with it. He will be a permanent fixture in your life, whether you like it or not. Though it does not make it any easier to swallow down the bitter taste of loathing on your tongue. Desperate for a distraction your eyes are quick to look out past the boarders of the balcony and the sight that greets you latches onto your focus instantly. It is a wonder how you had even managed to miss the view upon your entrance. But in your defense, you were a little preoccupied. Now you are hardly able to look away. The sheer mass of the structure leaves you captivated. Great, sweeping, walls rise; climbing up towards the blank heavens with rows of seats secured between the hulking barriers. Pale, shifting shapes roar and cheer inside the stands in a fervent display of excitement and anticipation. People you quickly realize. All of them chanting loudly. But the distortion their voices all layered up into a chaotic stream makes it difficult to understand it. The walls that hold them and the very room you sit in encircle a massive plot of bare earth. It is an arena. 

You have seen a few of them in your lifetime. Visited the old coliseums on Caladan. The same ones that your very ancestors had fought wild bulls in. You walked along the ancient, stone walls and pillars, cupped the golden sand within your palm and allowed it to run through your fingers. But the sheer scale of this structure is mindboggling and the number of people that have all massed together to bear witness to its exhibition is even greater. The Mentat had promised you a celebration in the honor of your marriage, and you had been left to wonder what that said celebration may have been. But now you have your answer. There is the evidence of a ferocious fight having taken place in the arena. The face of the white sand bellow has been disturbed. Blemished and smudged by footprints and the clear sign of a struggle; that the fighters had rolled along the ground and tussled for their breath. But even more damning is the dark stains that are streaked and pooled along the course earth. Even with the coloration altered black by the dark sun above, you know that it is blood. 

"A gladiator fight," you conclude aloud, and there is even an edge of scornful humor on your tone. "If you truly wanted a spectacle, you could have me thrown down there. I'm sure your people would love to watch an Atreides be slaughtered." You are not sure where the comment comes from. A sudden burst of confidence or perhaps defiance. You regret your snark as soon as you register the words, but it is too late for apologies now. You simply squeeze your clasped hands together tighter, even while your head is held high. A raspy, amused sound erupts from beside you, like air escaping a puncture, and you just vaguely realize that it is a chuckle. The Baron is laughing even as the smile hardly reaches his face. It is a small sound. Barely even qualifying as a laugh, but it eases you still. 

"A spectacle indeed." He says it as though he is in on a secret that you are not privy to. Part of a joke you might never know, and it immediately snuffs out the small sense of composure that you had achieved. "But I have no use for you dead." 

"Then what use do you have of me?" You pry. 

He hums, a hushed, guttural sound. "Do you know why you are to be married to my nephew?" 

The question gives you pause. There are many duties that you are required to perform in the union with the na-Baron. It is a political alliance first and foremost. A joining of two rival houses, meant to put to rest the animosity that has burned between you both for over 10,000 years. But it is also much more than that. You are to give him an heir as well, the continuation of his lineage. But the Harkonnen are not the only ones who intend for you to produce a child: the Bene Gesserit also demand a progeny of your union (though the Baron must remain ignorant to that design). It is why your mother had been sent the Duke in the first place, to correct Lady Jessica's mistake and birth a daughter. To birth you. So much is dependent on this marriage to flourish. Much that you yourself probably are not even privy to, but it is your duty to perform regardless. If you fail, your family name will forever be smeared and the possibility of the Kwisatz Haderach may be lost to eternity. And you will not allow your mother's death to be in vain. 

"Yes." 

Once more he turns his head to face you and his eyes glint with a deadly intensity. "Then you know of your purpose. "

It is a plain sentence, but it speaks volumes in its simplicity and its intent is not lost on you. It is a warning. A set of instructions that you are meant to follow. Keep your head down, your mouth shut and fulfil your function as promised and you may make it out of this arrangement unscathed. It has anger flaring in the pit of your stomach, prickling over your skin and heating up your face. The desire to say something in defense of yourself rises up high, but you know that you must hold your tongue. You are sure that he can see your opposition in your eyes as much as you try to control it, but he does not mention it. His vision roves over your visage like he is studying you and your reactions, in search of weakness. 

"Now watch." He says and returns his attention back to the bloodied sand beneath. 

Your eyebrows furrow, openly showing you confusion. What the Baron desires you to see, you don't know. You can hardly imagine what he has in store for you but given the nature of the arena and the Baron himself, it surely won't bode well for you. You don't dare to question him or ask that he elaborate. Your mouth remains fixed shut as you survey the colosseum with your breath locked within your lungs. An unwanted type of anticipation prickles at your fingertips and toes; spurred on by the way that the crowd rouses into a frenzy and the vibrations of their riotous cries strike across the atmosphere. The sound of their shouting spikes until it is thunderous, and you can hear the blunt sound of their fists beating against the stadium like a hammer striking down on an iron nail. Despite the many voices overlapping and yelling to be heard of the others, somehow in their clamoring, their words have become clearer. And it is not just words that they are spouting. It is a name. 

Feyd-Rautha. 

You are certain that your lungs cease to function. That they die inside your chest while you still live. The na-Baron is going to fight. You're going to see him. Despite wanting to slip your eyes closed, your body betrays you, leading you to scour along the dark sweeping walls of the arena in a terrified search that does not stop until your vision lands on what looks to be a massive entrance built into the bordering wall of the colosseum. Your heart flutters like a startled bird, quivering wildly like a pair of wings would. "I thought my father said that we would not see each other before the wedding?" 

"He said that he could not look at you. But there was no discussion of you witnessing him," the Baron answers. 

You do not know why the prospect of it makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat, wishing that you could sink into the cushion and vanish. Perhaps it's because seeing him would truly sink the severity of your new reality in. There would truly be no avoiding it once you do. All you can think of is all of the rumors and gossip that you had heard over the many years. The horrible tales of a psychopath. A man unhinged. No better than a rabid dog on a frayed rope. People spoke of a remorseless monster that delighted in blood and was unflinching in delivering death. Other's claimed that his appearance is just as terrifying as his actions. That he's gaunt and hideous to behold with awful, jagged teeth and bloodshot eyes. 

That is not a truth that you are ready to face, and your desire to remain ignorant to the possibility of his unsightly features burns in your gut. You are so caught up in your own anxieties that you hardly register the blaring of the announcer's voice sounding across the stadium, warbling over the sound system to praise and declare the arrival of the man who you have been dreading. You're entirely conflicted; transfixed as the entrance on the far end of the arena begins to slip open, even though your instincts tell you to turn your focus elsewhere. The floor, your hands, the crazed crowd. Anything. But is like watching a great fire or a calamity. The entire time your consciousness warns you not to look, but you are unable to. It is almost as if you have been casted under a horrible spell. Bewitched to see him even though you don't wish to. 

You stare helplessly at the threshold of the arena, and for a moment you wonder if it might be the entrance to the underworld instead. A dark, consuming void for a demon to come crawling out of. But this demon does not crawl. He marches. 

A figure strides out from the gateway wielding two recurved blades and the crowd erupts in an exhilarated cry. From the distance and height, you are unable to discern his features, but the way that he carries himself is already more than enough to give insight to his personality. His steps are long, eating up the ground in quick, measured paces; his shoulders are raised and straight, exuding pride. It's the saunter of someone confident in themselves and their abilities. Someone who is not just in their element but basking in it. He raises an arm high in the air, brandishing his fist and the weapon he clutches in it to address the masses, pointing the tip of the blade to sky as it erupts in a flurry of strange fireworks that burst and flourish like blots of heavy ink. The crowd punch their own arms up in turn and shout his name like an impassioned prayer. 

The apprehension chilling your chest begins to thaw, giving way to a strange sort of curiosity and before you know it, you're reaching for the theater binoculars placed on the table beside you. Anticipation thrums in your veins, nearly making your fingers shake around your grip of the handle as you lift the device up to your face, lining it up to peer into the eyepieces. It takes a moment for your brain to process what it is seeing. Who it's seeing. It's surreal how his once distant, blurred features have become clear and amplified underneath the optics of the binoculars. The familiarity of him strikes you like an unforgiving wave despite never having met him before. But everything, from his gait and the shape of his face seems as though you have gazed upon it a thousand times, ran your fingertips across the rise of his cheek bones and the plains of his face even though you haven't. The familiarity terrifies you, but it also keeps your attention firmly locked onto him. 

What catches your attention first are his eyes. It is difficult to tell their shade from underneath the monochrome emittance of the sun - they seem dark but some buried, distant instinct whispers that they're truly blue. A light shade akin the ocean, glittering in shades of pale cerulean and teal. It strikes you how they burn with a calculated excitement. A dangerous, fervid type of delight as he gauges the crowd with rapt attention. Even with the intense light bathing most of the scenery shades of white you know that the pale complexion of his skin is natural. Paired with the sharp angles that create his features it makes him seem as though he could have been cut from marble; a statue gifted with life and will. His lips, you shamelessly notice, are plush, and are set into a soft pout. 

Even with resentment for the Harkonnen still fueling your heartbeat you're unable to deny that the stories and claims that you had heard about his appearance were awful exaggerations. Absolute lies. You don't want to admit it, but there is a kind of beauty about him. Not one that you would have found on your home planet, but he's quite attractive in a way that is almost lethal. It strikes you in a way that it shouldn't. 

You continue to watch him as he comes to halt in the center of the arena, twisting his feet in a circle to look upon every section of the crowd before facing the direction of the balcony. He begins to lower himself to the ground, resting a single knee onto the sand in a sort of bow. All the while his eyes are trained upward, dangerously close to where you sit and you know that he's looking towards the Baron, kneeling to show his respects. All you can do is pray that he will pay your presence no mind. That he won't care enough to acknowledge you. 

It seems that the universe has no desire to answer your prayers this day. 

His dark focus flickers onto you so suddenly that you hardly have time to register it. As your eyes meet through the glass of the device, you suddenly feel as though you have been laid bare. The deafening cries of the masses fade down into a distant hum as all of your focus centers down onto him. You've never felt so exposed in your life. Like all of your every part of you has been spread open and seen; the darkest facets of you are held forward. It's like he's actually seeing you somehow. Peering at you through the distance that keeps you apart. But it's impossible for him to truly make out your features underneath the guise of the decorative chains that drapes over your face. He can't properly see you from your place this high. Still it feels as if he is looking directly at you, past the distortion of the distance and the cover of your veil and peering into your soul. 

You drop the pair of binoculars away from your face, severing the image of his focused gaze and the odd connection that had been created. Still you can't drop your attention from his figure down in the arena, but the loss of the close, magnified image of the device offers you some type of reprieve. He had felt too close, too near with their usage and the distance helps to soothe you. And with your regular vision provided to you, you are able to notice the other entrances posted along the walls are opening. 

The na-Baron realizes this as well. His head cocks in the direction of the open threshold to his far left, rising up from his crouched stance to properly assess it, eyes trained on the dark gapping gateway as a man ambles out from the shadows. Two others emerge from separate doorways on opposite sides of the colosseum, and Feyd-Rautha shifts his body to appraise them both in their slow approach. The three of them all but shamble towards the na-Baron, feet dragging lethargically across the sand like they caught under a drunken stupor. The realization dawns on you easily, and you are unable to stop yourself from turning to face the Baron with bewildered scowl. "They're drugged?" You accuse, sparing no judgement in your tone. 

"We cannot risk the safety of the na-Baron," he explains without shame, and draws a deep drag from a smoking pipe clutched within his hand. "Measures must be taken." 

You want to argue. But what use would that be? There is not an ounce of remorse or shame in his body. You've known this for years; you didn't have to meet him to realize that. You have heard countless tales of the Harkonnen's selfishness and deceit, so it should be no surprise that they're underhanded enough to rig a fight to the death in their favor. That they couldn't even do their slaves and prisoners the respect of dying in a fair fight. And the na-Baron stands so proudly in the center of that ring, holding himself high as though the scales have not been tipped in his favor. You knew that you were to wed a sadist. A violent, venomous man. It was a shame that you had to marry one that is also dishonorable. 

In the prisoners' approach, blackened figures seem to materialize from the walls of the arena looking like creatures out of a twisted fable. There is a great number of them, six you believe, if your hasty count does not fail you, all clad in a dark skintight material. But even more strangely are the horned headdresses that they all wear; it extends over their countenances to make them appear faceless and inhuman. They vigilantly wander along the border of the arena, and some even dare to skulk close to the slaves as they near the na-Baron, wielding some sort of weapon within their hands like they are prepared to strike the fighters if necessary. They must be referees of some sort, but their costumes make them look like dark spirits instead.

This game truly is devised in Feyd-Rautha's favor. 

The gladiator-slave that approaches from the left is the closest, covering the distance that separates him and the na-Baron quickly despite being lamed by the hinderance of drugs. With the raucous roar of the crowd resonating across the air, the suspense is palpable, hanging heavy and almost painful like a breath that has been held for too long and the people are desperate for release. You can't help the way that you watch expectantly, holding onto the handle of the binoculars like it might help keep you grounded while you observe Feyd-Rautha from the safety of your perch. 

He faces the approaching fighter. And for a moment you think that he is going to make the man hobble to over to him entirely, too cruel or perhaps even lazy to meet his competitor head on. But when the fighter brandishes his sword in an overreaching arch Feyd lunges forward on spry feet, cutting up the small remaining bit of distance with two massive strides and blocks the blade with his own. The arc that the prisoner had raised his weapon in was far too high. It left his most vital organs exposed to be gutted, and the blink of an eye the na-Baron takes the opening, deftly shoving the tip of his opposing weapon into the man's stomach and driving it in deep. The fighter's body goes limp near instantly, the hand holding his weapon slackens and when Feyd-Rautha pulls his sword from his opponent's stomach, he stumbles back on weak legs before tipping back onto the sand, lying belly up in a dead weight to bleed out on the ground.

You have heard of death all your life. Soldiers of your house have shared their stories of gore and anguish to you before. The horrors of the battlefield. And you yourself are no stranger to blood and bruises, having been trained by the best of your father's ranks and even Lady Jessica herself in the ways of fighting and hand to hand combat. Your teachings were meant for survival. Defense. But this is senseless murder set in the guise of entertainment. Cruelty.

Feyd-Rautha does not share the sentiment. He twists around to face the remaining fighters, mouth twisted into a feral snarl, muscles tense, ready to deliver another killing blow. He is clearly on some type of rush after claiming his first kill and his eyes dart between the pair of gladiators, gauging which one to attack first. Both of the prisoners have synced their steps as best as they can, with one coming towards the na-Baron from the front while the other nears from the back, intending to slay him together. 

But Feyd does not appear to be stressed by the prospect in the slightest, in fact you are sure that even from your elevated height you can still make out the presence of a smile on his lips. Delighted and fueled by the rush of adrenaline and the hope of slaughter. He evaluates them both carefully, waiting them out. He doesn't have to wait long though, because suddenly the one who stands behind is rushing towards him in a move that is entirely too impatient, the lapse in judgement probably brought on by the influence of the substance coursing through his veins. The other fighter is still too far from Feyd to offer any assistance, making them both fail in their effort to overwhelm him and attack at once. The na-Baron deflects the strike of the prisoner's sword easily, shoving the man back with the union of their blades to create enough space to deliver a harsh bone rattling kick to the man's bare chest. He stumbles back a few feet, dust spraying in his flounder as he struggles to collect himself from the soiled earth. 

Feyd doesn't have time to strike him down while he is vulnerable, because the second fighter finally reaches him, dipping his body low with the intent to strike his sword into the na-Baron's unguarded back, aimed for the spine. But Feyd is unsurprised by the attack; smooth and effortless in his movements as he rotates around on his feet to slip from the blades course and with the glint of silver the man's throat is sliced as he passes the na-Baron. You hardly would have realized that his neck had been cut at all if not for the way that rivulets of black have begun to pour from the wound, slipping down the pale hue of his skin and dripping to the bleached sand below before he collapses. 

The crowd somehow manages to erupt with even more passion to goad their na-Baron on dispatching the last man. But Feyd doesn't move on prisoner while he's still down on the ground, up righting himself on sluggish, weak knees. It is hard to stomach the sight of it, and you're certain that you can feel the oily, distant impression of nausea bubbling in your stomach. It urges you to look away, but you can't. You are frozen still. Locked into place as you watch Feyd pace around the arena like a predator stalking the bars of its enclosure. He's impatient in his wait for the fighter to finally get up on his feet, and you find yourself a little disbelieving that he would even allow the prisoner that little bit of respect, instead of slaying him while he was down and unable to properly defend himself. Maybe there is some honor in him after all. It's buried and diluted, but it seems there may be a shred of it still. 

The gladiator finally raises himself to his feet, spreading his legs wide to distribute his weight between his feeble legs. You can see resolve slip across the man's body, straightening his shoulders as best as he can to secure the grip he has on his weapon.  But it only prompts more of that amusement to flicker over Feyd's features before he springs towards his opponent. They meet in the clash of lethal blades, and their bodies twist and move like well-oiled machines. Even being drugged and exhausted, the prisoner's movements are powerful and practiced, but you doubt that it will be much of a match for Feyd. He has too many aspects in his favor. The game has fully been fabricated for his victory. But even with that in mind, you would be foolish not to acknowledge the way that the na-Baron uses his body. It is truly a sight - hypnotic almost. The slices he takes with his sword and the strikes that he bares down at his rival are tight. Swift, calculated blows that are charged with raw strength. He acts with pure, practiced confidence. It's clear that the art of combat comes as easily as breathing to him; second nature. The sight of him dodging and deflecting jabs underneath the extreme shine of the dim sun is an impressive display, and you can't help but wonder how well he would fair under the pressure of a fight with real stakes.

Maybe it was the controlled vehemence of his maneuvers and how skillfully he brandishes his blade, but you think that he would thrive. 

The gladiator is still alive, outlasting all of his fellow prisoners and it's honestly a wonder that he has made it this far. But you don't miss the casual way that Feyd holds himself, the security in the slices he delivers and how easily he dodges and moves around his opponent. Often dipping low into the man's space to nick his flesh with small, annoying cuts before dancing out of his field of reach. He's playing with him. Drawing out the fight like a bored cat toying with a wounded mouse. You can see the hope and determination dying in the gladiator with each passing second; it melts from his limbs, giving way to a venomous, mindless agitation. It makes him sloppy. 

He leaps at Feyd with little thought, desperate to get a decent lick in but the timing is once again ill and his body too open. The mistake does not go ignored and the na-Baron uses the mishap to sweep his opponents legs out from underneath him. And curiously, he casts one of his blades aside, banishing it to the sand. But you don't have to wonder for long before his hand strikes out like a serpent to grip ahold of the fighter's hair, using the leverage he has on the sluggish prisoner's head to harshly force him down and secure him on his knees. You can see the way that the man's face twists into a pained grimace, teeth gnashed together to fight off his agony as he pants raggedly, chest rising and falling with labored breaths. Feyd stands behind him like some sort of figure of death. A creature sent to drag weary, tortured souls to their end. 

You see the gladiators loose grip twitch around the handle of his sword, struggling to build up the last remaining scraps of his energy to swing the blade back and drive into the na-Baron's ribcage. But he doesn't have time to deliver the blow. Feyd raises his own weapon, hitching his arm back to build up tension in his hold. In that exact moment, you are certain that your eyes meet. That somehow, between the distance, his gaze reaches your own, focused in its intent like he is looking for your approval, like he is gifting you a sacrifice in your honor. You hardly have time to think of the implications of it before he drives the sword forward into the back of his victim's neck, severing the man's spinal cord and shoving it forward until the tip of the blade peeks through his throat. It is a horrid display of brutality. The violent sight almost forces a gasp from you, and you can feel your body shudder at the presentation of it. Your mind has long since gone blank, too rattled and shocked to form a coherent thought and the frenzied way the masses arise and breakout into a rapturous applause fills you brain like a haze with the wicked, rhythmic chanting of his name. 

He extracts the blade from the captive's body, spraying a dark splatter of blood across the pale sand with the pull and lifts the gore-soaked weapon up into the air in a silent claim of his victory. 

"Is he everything you had imagined?" 

The Baron's course timbre breaks you from your daze. Your head swivels to him like a doll, but the challenge proposed in his tone rouses your focus to the center. He wants you to be afraid. To shy away from his nephew. Why you aren't sure. Perhaps he simply enjoys the idea of an Atreides cowering, but you will give him no such pleasure. You harden your gaze before you speak next, making sure to project your resolve clearly when you answer. 

"He's perfect." It scares you because it doesn't even feel like a lie. It leaves your tongue too easily, like the compliment belonged there. Like your body and soul held it as a truth that you aren't ready to accept, and you're not sure how to cope with that. But what you say next surprises you even more. 

"I want to meet him." 

A part of you had hoped that the Baron would refuse your request. That he would stick to firm to your father's traditions and prohibit you from seeing the na-Baron until the wedding ceremony. But you know better than to think that he would honor or be controlled by old superstitions.  All too soon you find yourself being led by timid servant who wordlessly guides you deep into the inner depths of the arena. The look that the Baron had spared you before you left had been unsettling and sharp, and it made you wonder if you have agreed to go to your own execution. In your descent, the rabid cries of the masses fade into a distant warble, and with it, the corridors become dim and chilled like the walls of a forgotten crypt. The caution in your gut churns with that treacherous sense of anticipation and you struggle to concentrate past the separation in your emotions. You're not sure if you should be fearful or intrigued and it leaves you caught between a confusing sort of purgatory. 

The little bit of suspense hanging over you reminds you of when you used to dream about meeting him when you were both young. Nearly longed for it even, when you'd lose yourself to childish flights of fancy and daydreamed of love and adoration. It scares you to think that the sense of pining you had once entertained for him may have never truly gone away. Even with the stories of his brutish conquests, a blemish on your naive yearning. A stain of red; soaked with the scent of iron and viscera.

The sight of his violent display down in the arena seemed to confirm all of the horrid rumors that you have heard throughout the years. His indifference towards death, how casually he is able to take a life. It should all disgust you. And to a degree it does. It coats your tongue with something acetous and tart. It makes a shiver threaten to tremble down your spine. But as much as you wish to hide from it, you can't deny that he intrigues you. That the sight of him gazing upon you from the ashen sands of the colosseum like you were an ambiguity that he desired to unravel made your body thrum. You wonder if he would look at you so openly in the same way once you are both on even ground. Or if perhaps, some pathetic, traitorous part of you had simply imagined it. 

The servant stops suddenly before a wide threshold, forcing you to still in your tracks to watch as she steps to the side and bows silently without so much as meeting your eyes. And then she leaves, turning sharply on her feet with the gentle echo of her feet pattering along the obsidian floor while she skitters away. 

You're on your own now. 

You're not sure what you will find when you cross this barrier: pain, misery . . . pleasure. A primordial type of anxiousness wells up inside of you, screaming at you to turn heel and run. You could do so easily. Escape these dismal, tenebrous chambers before he even realizes that you're here. But you're quick to squash that wild impulse. It is a dangerous thing to entertain. You must eliminate that urge all together. You're not an animal. You are an Atreides. A Bene Gesserit. You have survived the Gom Jabbar. You passed the test. And you will survive this. 

With no further hesitation you step forward, focusing on sound of your dress whispering over the floor as a means to center yourself. As soon as you cross the threshold it opens up into a massive space, but the shadows are so thick and vast here that it is difficult to see where the walls truly begin or end. A pair of servant girls stand in the corner, just as rigid and silent as the others that you've seen so far, standing with their backs to the wall like they mean to merge into the shadows and hide. The only light to speak of pours from the ceiling, broadening in its descent to encapsulate the massive round pool that sits in the center of the room like a spotlight. And there, lounging along the far end of the bath with his arms draped along the border, relaxed in the murky, steaming water, is the na-Baron. 

When your eyes meet you have to wonder if this is what prey feels like when locked within the gaze of a wolf; poised to lunge and jaws longing to bite. The way that he had gazed upon you in the arena had been appraising and seeking. Like he was sizing you up and searching for your favor all at once. But something in his stare has shifted since then and dipped into something searing and stifling, and it serves as an obtrusive reminder of who you've willingly confined yourself alone with. But you're unable to stop yourself from admiring him as he does to you. Roving your examination over his face, and you find your attention captivated there. The glow of the florescent lighting reveals a delicate cream undertone in his skin, and the light blush in his lips that had been hidden outside, stunted by the black sun. It breathes a sense of life into him, and nearly separates him from the otherworldly image that had been crafted by the violence he had basked in earlier.

"You must be lost." 

The voice that speaks abruptly is husky and inflected with an accented lilt that blends into the rasp of it. It buzzes over your skin, and you can feel it murmur across your fingertips, but it is not enough to distract you from the confusion that sparks in you from the comment. He must notice the perplexed look that crosses your face because you don't even get time to ask him for clarification before he speaks next. "We're not to see each other. Or was that a lie?" 

If you didn't know any better, you would have thought that he sounds insulted. Like the mere suggestion of you not meeting each other before the wedding had been a great offence. But surely it simply came from a place of ego and not genuine rejection or hurt. That would require affection. And that is an emotion that you're certain the na-Baron is incapable of. Still, regardless of if he truly harbors a sense of fondness for you are not, keeping this relationship as cordial as possible is in your best interest for both of your sakes. 

"It wasn't a lie," you finally answer, clasping your hands together in front of yourself. "But I wanted to congratulate you on your win. . . And to finally see the man that I am intended to marry." The final admittance comes out somewhat reluctantly. But it catches his attention still. You can see the intrigue openly flit through his eyes and he tilts his head while he surveys your from across the room in a curious manner. 

"And what do you think?" 

You are not sure if the question is in reference to himself or his performance in the arena. Either way, your answer still stands. Though you find yourself reluctant to reveal it, even while it burns in your throat. But the way that the na-Baron watches you with a glimmer of restrained vehemence in his heavy stare almost rips the truth from the depths of your chest. But your eyes pointedly flicker back over to the servants in the corner before moving back over to the na-Baron. The question hangs heavy in the air, silently exchanged between the two of you. 

"Leave us," he dismisses firmly, without removing his gaze from you. They nearly spring forward on their feet, vision casted down on the floor as they cross the room and vanish past the threshold like a pair of phantoms. You catch the subtle nod of his head as he watches you, and it is hard to tell if it is done with disinterest or an air of mocking.  "There. You may speak freely now." 

You don't hold in your answer now. "Disappointed," you say firmly, and you're thankful that your voice comes out stronger than you feel. A palpable shift rushes over the room. It is frigid. Moving over the blackened walls like a cold front and seeping into your bones; brought on by the subtle vexation that shifts across his features. You can see the muscles along his shoulders and the plains of his chest ripple underneath his pallid skin, tensing in his ire. It has you stuck in place like the bottoms of your feet have been glued to the floor. It doesn't feel like you're in a room with a man but sharing the space with a hunter that has its teeth and claws poised to slice. But you know that you can't cower. Not with men like him. If you give him and inch, he'll take a mile. And if you are going to make it out of this arrangement alive, you're going to have to try to stand on even ground. "That fight. It was supposed to be in my honor. But it isn't much of a victory if your opponents are impaired with drugs." 

"It was out of my hands," comes his answer. It nearly could have been overtly defensive if he hadn't delivered it so steadily and direct. It's a knee jerk reaction to assume that he is lying. It has been instilled in you since birth to be wary of the Harkonnen and their words. And perhaps it is simply a dangerous form of hope, but the intuition in your gut promises you that he is telling the truth. But even then, it is difficult to find forgiveness. 

"And you fought anyway." 

"Careful." His voice cuts across the atmosphere like a sharp growl. He bares his teeth with the warning, letting you catch a glimpse of that dark snarl and for a moment your mind treacherously imagines what it would be like to feel the sharpness of it grazing along your skin. "I've taken tongues for less." 

The threat does not strike fear in you like it should have. Like you expected it to. The longer you spend in Feyd-Rautha's presence, the more that your initial caution begins to ebb away. For better or for worse, confidence seeps in to take its place. You shock yourself for the second time today by moving towards him instead of backing away like someone with common sense would. Though if you're being honest with yourself, you have always flirted with danger. The temptation towards things that you should not want has always taken you to places not meant for you, and it is a trait that your family and teachers alike had struggled to dissuade. That you yourself have always fought. But you can't resist the urge to close the distance between you and him, following after it blindly like you're being tugged along by an invisible string. 

He trails your approach with that calculated sort of interest, fully invested on your form as you carry yourself up the pair of steps. You continue to move even once you reach the final platform, but your feet do not stop moving. It is like some subconscious part of you is determined to cut as much distance between you and the na-Baron as possible. He doesn't tear his attention from you once. It's fully fixed to you as you saunter around the boarder of the bath like he couldn't bear to look away from you, and it fuels you to keep moving forward, only stopping once you stand beside him. He turns his head to gaze up at you from his position, studying you as he lounges. 

"I'd save that for after the wedding, it may be difficult to say my vows otherwise." You level him with a firm stare as your tone shifts from subtly sardonic to hardened, and possibly even disappointed. " Though I'm glad to know where we stand." 

You see something harden in his gaze. What, you are not sure, but the ferocity of it makes you breathless and something heated stirs in your gut. 

"I mean you no ill will," he assures you, as if he had not just threatened you just a moment before. But the gravelly tone of his voice is distracting. It courses over your skin like an electrical current, humming and warm across your body. "I will bring you the heads of a thousand men if it pleases you." 

It's not the admission itself that shocks you. You know that slaughter comes naturally to the na-Baron. You have witnessed that firsthand. But the sincerity and passion that cradled his words made it sound like a promise. A vow. And you know for certain that he is being purely honest. It floods you with disbelief. The way that he watches you is raw. Vulnerable but not weak or insecure. He said it with the zeal of a devout follower speaking of their faith. Full of hunger, reverence and sincerity. It makes your knees weaken and the oxygen in your lungs is suddenly useless. The devotion burning in the dark hold of his stare is something that you never imagined Feyd-Rutha could be capable of. You know that it is not love. That you are not naive enough to believe. But it is admiration. Consuming and wanting. It is almost frightening how he looks at you. Like you are an oasis, a banquet, and he is a man parched and starved. It only draws you to him even more. Like a moth fluttering closer to an open flame; hoping to be burned in its welcoming, vicious warmth.

"Why?" Your voice comes out weakened. You nearly pant, trying to breath around the fit of your bodice. It has suddenly become too tight, squeezing around your ribcage and sweltering against your skin. 

He does not answer immediately. Instead he rises from the depths of the dark water, shifting to turn his body to yours, causing the water to ripple and gleam underneath the light. You can smell the perfume of the oil on his skin, fresh and warm like amber. A scandalous part of you is tempted to glance downward, even though you know that the height of the dusky liquid still hides the most intimate parts of him, but you are unable to tear your eyes away from his. They look like heavy black chasms, drawing you in and stealing your focus until he is all you can see. You can just vaguely register that he's stepping closer to you. He angles his head as he draws near, and you feel the point of his nose brush over yours through the chilled chains of your veil; the warmth of his body seeps past the barrier of your dress and sinks in deep, settling between the cradle of your hips. 

"You and I; we belong together." He says it like it is a fact. A creed. To him it is. He beholds you like you are something worth worship. And the thought of having such a formidable man observing you as though you were an answer that he has been seeking makes something in you burn. It is scorching. Powerful. It knocks you breathless. "I dream of you." 

The admittance makes you gasp. You briefly wonder how he could possibly have been touched by the sight of visions. Much less ones of you. How he had managed to see you in his sleep just as you had seen glimpses of him. But your marveling is quickly flooded and overruled by images of your own past dreams dancing and flashing in your mind. Pale hands sweeping across your body and leaving white-hot trails in their wake; the sting and glide of teeth and tongue; the musk and salt of sweat in your mouth. It rouses a heady sense of curiosity inside of you. And when he raises a hand and slips it underneath your veil to cup your cheek, sweeping his thumb over the shape of your lips, it makes your interest burn hotter. When you speak next your voice nearly catches in your throat. "What do you see? In your dreams." 

The weight of his stare pulls you in and grips you tightly, heavy with a wild sort of hunger that might eat you alive. When he speaks next, the smoky rumble of his voice courses over you and clouds your head with a low mist. "Let me show you." 

You are not sure when he had slipped the veil from over your face and off of your head, but you hear it fall behind you. Hitting the floor with a sharp, twinkling clatter. But you hardly pay it any mind. Too entranced on the heat of Feyd's palm cupping your face, holding you close while his heavy, heated stare bores into your own and in your haze, you admire that they are truly a shade of blue, just as those old visions promised. A gorgeous splash of color caught in a world of black and white. He shifts closer to you - as much as the low edge of the bath will allow, and with it you feel the sultry impression of his body heat glides over you. The cradle of his hand on your face slips from its place, traveling downward until it reaches your neck. Your heart skips a beat when the hold of his fingers reaches around your throat, and you're sure that he could feel the wild pulse of it fluttering against his palm. A flicker of amusement passes through his gaze, and suddenly it feels like some kind of test. He wants to see if you'll crack and flounder while he holds your life in his grip. But you find that the urge to flee has vanished. It's been wrung from you as though it had never been there, and suddenly you can't understand why you had ever wanted to run in the first place. 

The pressure of his hand tightens like he means to squeeze the air out of you and to block your breath. Fear doesn't rise up to greet you. This isn't a challenge that you have the desire to shrink away from. You want more of it. Of him. You lean into his touch instead, tilting your chin back to bare your throat to him, and you see a ravenous type of delight pass over his expression when you do. The weight fixed around your neck; the heady scent of the rich ointment wafting from his skin dips more of that intoxicated haze over you. 

For a moment you wonder if he might actually rip the oxygen from your lungs and attempt to send you to your death. The tight hold of his hand and the dark look glittering in his eyes imply that he might. But then his hold goes light, and you nearly mourn the loss when he allows his fingers to slip from around your neck. Disgracefully, you almost feel a low whine rising to the tip of your tongue. A desperate plead to have his touch on you again. But like an answer to your silent prayer, his hands unanimously run down your body, roving dangerously close to your breasts, leaving your skin tingling in their wake as they trail down and past your ribs to settle on your hips. 

Time seems to slow when his fingers pluck at the smooth fabric of your skirt, bunching the material up into the cradle of his palms until it starts to slip up and over your legs, gradually revealing more and more of you. He doesn't stop until its rucked up enough to slip his hands underneath your dress, and you silently gasp at the warmth of his palms blossoming over your hips. His fingertips dig into your skin harshly enough that you know it'll be tender tomorrow, but you welcome the sting. 

You can see the silent question glimmer in his eyes. The whisper of his nose gliding over your own and the nearness of his lips beckon that you come closer. He steps back just enough to allow you space, and without further prompting you lift your legs over the lip of the bath. The water is nearly scorching when you slink inside, nearly sweeping up to your waist and encapsulating you like melted wax. His grip on you didn't waver or weaken as you moved. If anything, it grew stronger, like he was worried you might slip away from him, even though the idea of escaping is a faint memory for you now. 

When he tilts his head closer to yours, you think that he finally might kiss you and satiate the restless hunger that's been buzzing between the both of you. You feel the low brush of his breath against you lips when he speaks, and the throaty rasp of his voice curls out in one word: 

"Beg." 

It gives you pause. As soon as you hear it something defiant rises inside of you. But it isn't aggressive or wildly so. It's languid and playful. Testing. Despite the shred of desperation that you had nearly caved into earlier, you have no desire to give in so easily now. You aren't going to roll over so quickly. Not without good reason.

"No," you answer calmy, resisting, even when lust burns in your veins. "Give me a reason to." 

In truth, you aren't sure where the burst of confidence comes from. Your experience with things of this nature - the touch of a man and pleasure, isn't nonexistent. You've indulged in a few nights tangled in the arms of a random temporary lover. Secretive kisses exchanged in dimly lit corridors, the ecstasy of a mouth between your thighs. But the art of it is not something that you have fully grasped onto. Flirtation and conviction in regard to sex doesn't come naturally to you. So you aren't sure why you feel inclined to tease him like you know what you're doing. But you want the challenge. Some twisted, perverted side of you wants to see the glint of the psychotic excitement that he had displayed in the arena. You want his hands on you while his eyes burn with that unrestrained ferocity. It's dangerous to goad him on. To taunt him like you understand him. You're playing a dangerous game. Like prodding at a wild animal in its enclosure, or waving a blazing, red flag in front of a pacing bull. 

A fearful part of you expects for him to get angry. That he might lash out and punish you assuming that you could toy with him so freely. Maybe he'll remind you of your intended place and tell you that you aren't equals. That you mean nothing to him. But he doesn't do any of those things. Instead, he sinks down to his knees, lowering himself until the water rises up to his chest. His eyes don't stray from you once, and the hold on your hips remains firm. The intent and hunger in his eyes nearly make you lightheaded. He watches you in a way that's starved. It has you wondering if you're going to make it out of this alive. But a stronger part of you can't wait to be torn apart. 

His hold on your hips gently nudges at you, guiding you to lower yourself until you're seated on the edge of the bath. You spread your legs without him having to ask, and you can see the hint of an arrogant smile perking at the corners of his mouth when one of his hands sweep down to your knee, prying it open. Anticipation simmers inside of you, searing deep inside of your gut like a hot ember. You feel his fingers sweep along your undergarment, hooking his fingers underneath the fabric to tear the delicate scrap of clothing from your hips as though it was made from paper. It stings against your skin when it snaps free, breaking with a sharp hiss as it rips apart. 

You watch in awe when he lifts the frayed fabric up to his nose to draw in a heavy inhale. Embarrassment prickles at your face when you realize that he's breathing in the arousal that had soaked your underwear. It's vulgar. Filthy. But it has excitement buzzing over you and seeping into your bones. You hardly pay attention when he tosses the tattered fabric somewhere across the room, too transfixed as he leans himself forward between your knees, making a space for himself around the cradle of your thighs, hovering dangerously close to where you need him the most. 

His stare pierces yours, digging a place for himself in your mind and soul, and latching on as he delivers a promise. "I'll make you scream." 

Coming from anyone else it would have made you scoff or roll your eyes and cringe. Despite your inexperience, it's a line that you've heard before only to be met with utter disappointment. But you can feel the determination rolling from him, and you know that it isn't a lie. Still, you're prepared to say something snarky. To try and knock him down a peg or two before he's even started, but you never get the chance. 

His head is between your thighs in an instant, spreading you open with his tongue, hot and sweltering against you. It wrenches a startled cry from your chest, and your hands scramble blindly to support yourself, clinging onto the chilled edge of the bath and the damp warmth of Feyd's shoulder so that you don't tip over. He's only just started, and his enthusiasm already leaves you suspended in disbelief. He works his mouth against you with a ravenous intensity, swiping his tongue over you before dipping it deep inside of you in a way that has liquid pleasure pouring over your body; making your nerves light up like wild, hot sparks. Your hips lift up in a mindless roll, grinding over his mouth to chase after the curl of his tongue, and he follows after the sway of your body, unshaken by your desperation. 

Already you feel like you've been lit on fire. Dipped in a pool of nectar and bliss. It has your legs quivering, tensing and flexing with every suck and stoke from his mouth. It pulls ragged gasps from your heaving lungs, and you just faintly register the airy, punched out breaths lightly echoing off of the walls of the room. You can hear the wet drag of his lips and tongue licking at your cunt, tipping you closer and closer to euphoria. It's filthy. Utterly debauched. The very notion of the daughter of a Duke sleeping with a man before her wedding - fiancé or not - is scandalous, and you should be entirely ashamed that you've even wound up in this position at all. But you can't manage to find a single ounce of humiliation in your body. You're in too deep now. Nothing else matters but this moment. Nothing except for him. 

Your head rolls down on your neck, and you're immediately insnared by the sight of him watching you. Most of his face is hidden by the skirt of your dress bunched around your waist, how your thighs frame his head, but you can see his eyes clearly. A haughty sense of excitement dances in them, clearly pleased with the mess that he's already made of you. You want nothing more than to wipe that arrogant look from his face, but it's almost like he can sense the quip that you're prepared to use, because the wet heat of his mouth licks over you before he closes his lips around your clit and your mind glazes over. He drags the hint of teeth over you, lighting up fire in their wake and then he sucks. Your back bows tight, breasts heaving underneath your dress, and you openly sob. But he offers you no reprieve, no chance to breathe. 

With little warning he slips a finger into the wet entrance of your cunt, forcing your walls to stretch around the width of it as he curls it deep. You've touched yourself before. Used you own fingers to pleasure yourself, and you've only ever felt the hand of one other man before. A random soldier amongst the Atreides ranks, but that had been some time ago. The width of Feyd's is much bigger than your own. Thick and long enough that a single one has you gasping. The stretch of it nearly burns. But it builds a heavy ache between the apex of your thighs, rooting itself so deeply along your spine that it tears another watery cry from you. The motion of your hips turns choppy, losing your rhythm in your desperation to reach the scorching pleasure that looms over you like a wall of fire. He barely gives you time to adjust to the first finger before he's inserting another in alongside it, making the muscles of your abdomen contract and wildly. The walls of your cunt flutter around the thickness of his fingers; your body desperate to fall into the throes of release. 

The fullness of it makes your mouth drop open in a silent scream, forcefully teetering you along the edge of something all-consuming and debilitating. You can taste it searing on your tongue, feel it on your fingertips and all the way down to your toes. Uninhibited moans and broken mewls of his name have begun to spill from your mouth. Punched out of you by the ceaseless drag of his tongue and weight of his finger inside of you, crooking along your walls with nasty, wet squelches to shove you closer and closer to that shattering precipice. It forces out a gutted cry that nearly stings on its way out, and you can feel Feyd's pleased laughter reverberate over your flesh in response, and the low tremors only inject more rapture into your veins.  It's so close. Welling and foaming up like boiling water; a rising tide that threatens to sweep you and drown you. 

All at once it stops. 

You cry out like you've been wounded when he tears his mouth from you and removes his fingers from your cunt, leaving you empty and aching. You don't even try to hide your betrayed scowl as you glare down at his face, which looks entirely too delighted for your liking. Your lungs struggle around a ragged gasp, making your voice catch in your throat. "Wha- why you did sto-" 

The question hardly has time to leave you before he turns his head and sinks his teeth into the plush skin of your inner thigh. It sears across your nerves, molten and white-hot, ripping a pained yelp from your chest. The smile on his face is pleased, stretched wide into that dark, impish grin. Your attention is stuck on him as he drops his jaw open, holding your scolding glower as he slips his tongue out to glide it along the sore bite mark that he left with his teeth. The wet warmth of his tongue laving over your skin, soothing the sting that he had made has your brain splitting between pain and pleasure, merging the two sensations into a muddled, delicious blur. 

"Feyd." You meant for it to come out reprimanding and harsh, but instead it sounds thin and panting. You see the satisfaction spark in his eyes at the weakened tone of it, and seeking more out like a glutton, he reaches his hand forward to roll one of his knuckles over your clit. It's pure torture how he's keeping you hung along the edge of bliss. You're still sensitive from your ruined orgasm and the simple graze from the back of his hand has you doubling over like you've been struck in the gut. He tilts his head back to nuzzle his face against your own when you lean in close enough. An action that's deceptively sweet for someone so violent. It has something that feels a lot like affection bubbling up inside of your chest; dulcet and soft. You tear it away and burrow it deep before it can grow. 

Guided by instinct, in a scramble to replace that unwelcome hint of tenderness, you tilt your head to join your lips to his. You can taste yourself on him, earthy and mildly sweet, and just the thought of you marking him with something so intimate - so filthy, makes you weak. He's quick to respond, meeting you eagerly with tongue and teeth. It's nearly bruising. Just as harsh and impassioned as the way that he fights, and it has you moaning into his mouth. But it isn't enough. Your hands turn greedy, sweeping over his shoulders and up the back of his neck, and in retaliation for teasing and his earlier bite, you sink your nails into the skin there, meanly dragging them until your reach his clavicle bone. But he doesn't hiss or wince in pain. The groan that spills against your lips is one of pleasure. The sound has your body thrumming and winding up tight, and paired with the steady circles he draws on your clit it has you dangerously close to tipping headfirst into the throes of melted bliss. But his touch is too light, the rhythm too slow to fully guide you into it. It leaves stuck on the edge of a torturous limbo, and you nearly whimper against his mouth. 

You break the kiss in an effort to regain a sense of clarity, but he's quick to chase after you, nipping at your lips and alleviating the sting with the point of his tongue. "Feyd," you repeat, and this time it sounds horribly close to begging. You can feel your resolve cracking. Splintering down the center and melting with every glide of his finger against your clit. 

"I already told you, Atreides," he murmurs it like a taunt and promise all at once. "All you need is ask." 

He makes it sound so simple. So temptingly easy, but you try to cling onto your pride with a shaking grip. You know that he can see the conflict openly reflected in your eyes. The urge to fight. He moves his face from yours just enough to tilt his head as he evaluates you. It feels so condescending and the low, patronizing way that he tuts at you has a small whisper of determination peeking through the cloud of lust that fogs your mind. But he presses his knuckle against your clit in a mean drag, making your body clench and twitch like it had been stung with a live wire, and with it all cohesive thought blanks out. 

"Why are you fighting?" He asks, leaning his head to run his teeth along your ear, and then the wet blaze of his tongue trails up your throat to lick the salt from your skin. "It could be like a dream." 

It's such a simple sentence, but it reminds you have of how you've gotten here in the first place. The promise of pleasure, the feel of skin under your teeth, the rough grip of his hands on you. In truth, you aren't sure what you're resisting for. What game you're trying to play and win. You're just torturing yourself at this point. Holding yourself back from what you truly want needlessly. It's because of pride. The trait to endure, to remain resolute underneath the call of a challenge or opposition has been instilled in you. You've been taught to be unyielding, to hold yourself back from temptation. Especially when facing an adversary. You cannot show weakness lest you bring humiliation to your house. But you're quickly learning that you don't have much shame anymore. Being in Feyd's presence seems to drain every ounce of it from your body, shifting you into something debased and wanting. And you want him. 

"Please, Feyd, I need you touch me," you beg, panting against his lips. "I need you to fuck me. I need - " 

You aren't certain who moves first. If it's you who slips down from the edge of the bath or if he's the one that takes ahold of you by the hips and tugs you onto his lap. The murky water splashes and ripples from the disturbance, bathing over the lower half of your body in a warm rush as you meet in a desperate sweep of grabbing hands, and the passionate exchange of lips and the harsh graze of teeth. You follow after him as he shifts so he's leaning against the boarder of the bath, allowing you both to focus on the press of your bodies grinding against each other without the worry of falling into the water. His hips roll upward, tearing a surprised gasp from you when you feel the hard weight of his cock nudge between the apex of your thighs, brushing over your clit in a slow drag. 

The feel of it is jarring almost. Dousing a small chill across your body with the reminder that you're beginning to reach the point of uncharted territory. You've never gotten this close with anyone else before. Had never entertained the idea or even desired it. Your explorations of the male body had never gone past you taking them into your mouth or vice versa. This is completely out of your depth and all of the efforts that you had taken in preparation had done little to soothe your nerves. You had spoken to your chambermaids and Lady Jessica alike about sex before, the art of love making and what you should brace for, and they had all warned you of pain. A deep tearing pain and the blood that comes with it. It had given you hardly any inclination to anticipate losing your virtue. 

But even with worry tensing your gut the fervent, burning desire that's consumed you hasn't released you from its snare. Still, Feyd seems to have noticed the rigidity in your body, the way your muscles have coiled in your internal distress. He tips his head back to part his lips from yours so that your eyes can meet, and you can see amusement glittering in the darkness of them like your nervousness is humorous somehow. 

"You have nothing to fear. I'll be gentle, just this once." The reassurance (or threat, you aren't quite sure) skirts over you, rough and enticing within the gravel of his voice. One of the hands that he has on your hips softly grips around your wrist, and you're left to watch curiously as he guides it down into the inky water. You gasp when he slips your palm around the weight of his cock. He's rigid and smooth in your hold, and when you inquisitively stroke your hand up the length of him, it's a little intimidating to discover the substantial girth of him. You swallow nervously around the saliva that pools in your throat. It's difficult to focus around. It's like your own body is confused, thrumming with an electrical sort of anticipation, and the clutch of anxiety that stubbornly burrows deep underneath the influence of your lust. 

But there's something about the arrogant glint in Feyd's expression that makes you bristle. It gives you a touch of confidence; small, hardly there at all, but it's enough. You grip him before your determination can falter, holding him steady as you line him up to the soaked entrance of your cunt. It takes you a moment to notch him against you - a combination of your nerves and lack of practice. But when you finally do, you have to draw in a deep breath to center yourself. He's thick and warm against you and it's such a foreign sensation. A side of you still hasn't caught up with the fact that you're well and truly here, tangled up in such a scandalous position with the na-Baron - your enemy. Your rival. But it's even more shocking with how little the fact is beginning to bother you. It should frighten you. It should sicken and repulse you. But you find that it doesn't in the slightest. You only feel the damning lick of desire, the urge to chase after your pleasure and to feel the na-Baron come undone underneath you. 

With a deep inhale you begin to sink yourself down on him before your nerves can get ahold of you. The stretch stings from the head of his cock working inside, the muscles between the junction of your hips straining from the effort. It's already intense, splitting you open with a fullness that you have yet to feel before even though he isn't even halfway in. Every shred of oxygen has been punched out from your lungs, and your mouth drops open in a silent gasp as you continue to slip yourself down onto him, forcing your body to accommodate to the width of his girth. Liquid, molten honey drips down the length of your spine, blurring with the raw sting rooted deep inside of you, nearly making you double over from the intensity of it. 

"Easy," Feyd hums suddenly, reaching up to cup the side of your face. When he swipes his thumb underneath your eye, you just vaguely register the dampness there. Tears. You hadn't even realized that you had begun to cry from the overwhelming nature of it all, and even though it's expected, it's a little irritating to see how unbothered he appears to be while you feel as though you're coming undone at the seams. But the warmth of his hand against your cheek pulls you from the searing, electrical pressure of your muscles giving around his length, a beacon in a storm. It's another oddly, sweet gesture from the someone so brutal, and combined with the soothing weight of his hand on your waist, it has another bout of that horrendous affection rising up inside of you. Even when he lifts his tearstained thumb to his lips to lick the damp salt from his finger. 

It's all too overwhelming. The sensation of his body on yours, his eyes on you, the push of his cock filling you up. It has more desire building up inside of you and it guides you to sink even more of yourself down on him, eager to take every inch. You feel it when the crown pushes past the tight ring of your cunt. The abrupt pop sends heavy tremors across your body, making your spine bow forward like a melted candlestick. It's like every bit of your energy has been sapped from you by a single motion and you have no choice but to let your head prop against his shoulder as you collect yourself with a trembling sigh. But you don't bother giving yourself any reprieve, discarding his earlier advice and bearing your hips down to force more of him deep inside, and your jaws drops open in a silent, punchout scream when your walls stretch to accommodate him.

Your mind has all but melted underneath the intensity of it, shifting to a blank with each inch that you take. By the time that the back of your thighs meets the support of his lap you feel like pure, useless mush. Reduced to pliant mess by the sudden fullness that's been stuffed into your cunt. You swear that you can feel him in your throat, shoving your lungs tight against the walls of your ribcage, keeping you breathless. 

"I told you to go easy." The rumble of his voice breaks out, bleeding past the clouded over haze in your mind in a deep rasp. It's difficult to discern if he's mocking you or chiding you, but knowing what you've learned of him already, it's safe to assume that it's probably both. 

You distantly feel you shake your head against his shoulder, more of that defiance rearing up. "I don't want to go easy," you counter. It takes you a moment to build up the strength and coherence to pull yourself back, tilting your chin up to assess him. His eyes are like burning pits, a yawning void that wants to eat you alive. But you don't have it in yourself to shy away from it. Instead you lean forward, slipping your hands around to grip the back of his neck, supporting yourself has you brush your nose along his. The press of his body underneath you is unflinching, his expression relaxed, but you are certain that you feel something in him waver. The hint of a vulnerability. A fleeting glimpse of it. But that's all you need. It's more than enough to tell you that if you want to, you can just as easily have him wrapped around your finger.  

You angle your head closer, pressing soft kisses along the plush of his lips and the sharp cut of his jaw. "Please," you beg softly. 

His mouth is on yours in an instant, hot and hungry, pulling you into another frenzied kiss, licking into your mouth to taste you. Just the glide of his lips against yours is enough to have that heated coil in your stomach already winding up tight. You feel like you're drowning. Caught up in a torrent of heat and bliss. It has your hips rising up mindlessly, instinctively working yourself on the length of his cock in a desperate need to chase after your pleasure. Stinging aftershocks trickle across your muscles with each short drag, but it only serves to make your nerves hum; aching so wonderfully deep that your eyes nearly roll back. 

His lips leave yours to trail along to corners of your mouth, sweeping down your jaw to nip and bite along the delicate skin of your throat, intent to leave his mark on you. It distracts you. Pulling your focus onto the sharp cut of his teeth on your neck, that it completely catches you off guard when he secures an arm around your waist, pinning you close to his body before he thrusts his hips up into yours like he's determined to carve his place between your them. The pace that he sets is grueling. A merciless rhythm that strikes the air out of your lungs with each pronounced roll. He fills you in a way that hurts, stretching you open with every plunge of his cock. But it's an exquisite type of pain. It feels like it's tearing you apart just to piece you back together again. 

You struggle to meet his pace. Your movements aren't as coordinated; choppy, and he doesn't wait for you to catch up and figure out the greedy movement and rhythm he's set. The sway of the water around your bodies seem to stifle and aid the motion of your hips simultaneously, dragging them down and lifting them all at once. You're practically useless above him, forced to sit and take it. But he doesn't seem annoyed or undeterred in the slightest with the way that he pounds himself into you. It has your brain going fuzzy, glazing over with the impression of his veins gliding along the walls of your cunt. His chest rubs against your breasts, shifting the smooth material of your dress over your nipples, and the added friction makes your back pull taut. 

The heat of his mouth closes over the vulnerable stretch of your throat and you can feel the tip of his tongue glide over your pulse like he's tempted to sink his teeth in deep to drink the flow of your blood. Your cunt clenches down on his girth at the thought, and you're rewarded with a low, guttural groan that reverberates across his chest from the inside out. It makes you eager to hear more from him. To make him just as broken and debauched as you are. 

You can hardly recognize yourself anymore. The way that he's practically turned you into an animal; wanton and gluttonous. You can hear the sound of your own voice, unrestrained and loud as it cries out in pleasured moans and whimpers. You don't think you've ever heard yourself this way. So uninhibited and sinful. None of your past lovers, as satisfactory as they had been, had ever been able to pull reactions like this from you. It nearly makes you feel like a stranger in your own body. Unfamiliar with your skin. But it's irresistibly good, unprincipled and shameless. But it feels like pure release, untethered by expectations or rules. And like a starved thing, you want more. You want more of him. To hear him, to feel more of him, to taste him on your tongue. 

In a wild craving to hear the throaty sound of his pleasured breaths, you slip your throat away from his mouth, ignoring the disgruntled snarl that stretches across his lips to grip the nape of his neck. You lean forward before he can question you and press your teeth into the smooth flesh that stretches over the junction of his shoulder, careful not to break skin but enough to cause the sting of pain. It's like a prize when a deep groan rips out from his chest, but the sharp, bruising thrust that follows closely behind nearly dislodges your teeth from him. He must have noticed the grip of your jaw waver because he slips a hand up to cradle the back of your skull, securing you in place. 

"More," he demands in a thick rasp. 

The sound of the request has liquid fire dousing over you, and you don't have the strength or desire to resist. You sink your teeth down even more until it threatens to split skin underneath the weight of your bite, stopping short before you could do any actual damage. But the irritated, almost forlorn sigh that greets your ears catches your attention. His fingers flex around the back of your head like he wants to shove you closer. But surely he doesn't want that. Your teeth will tear right through him if you apply any more pressure. 

"Harder." The insistent order comes out like pure gravel, and matched with another wild thrust, it has your teeth clamping down on his shoulder. The muscles in your jaw squeeze tight until flesh breaks and something iron and strangely bitter spills across your tongue and threatens to pour down your throat. The noise that leaves him is gutted and wanton. Your body clenches around him as soon as you hear the ragged panting that trickles from his lips, setting you alight with even more ardency, and the sting of your bite searing across his nerves somehow manages to fuel him with even more vigor. He rams his cock into you with heavy strokes that are debilitating. You nearly feel like a doll, nothing more than a being for his pleasure, if not for the reverent way that his hands begin to glide along your body. Clutching you to him like might slip away. 

It pulls you close to him, and the position has his pelvis grinding against your clit with every roll of his hips. Unable to hold in the string of moans and whimpers that beg to slip from your chest, you have to slip your teeth from his skin to pant and cry against his shoulder. It's like the sun is eating at your body. Warmth, and heat, and rapture scorching you from the inside, threatening to burn and tear you apart. You can taste it, warm and sweet on the tip of your tongue, mixing with the dark tart of his blood into an intoxicating flavor. It makes you lose all sense of yourself with your mind slipping under a blank mist. Your body is so distant from you now and the only thing that keeps you connected to it is the pleasure and ecstasy soaking your limbs and filling your lungs; the thickness of him stretching you open and stuffing you full.  

"Feyd," you gasp like a warning and a plea, blindly clawing at his arms and shoulders to keep you tethered down and present. But each relentless thrust just hurtles you closer to that yawning precipice. The head of his cock brushes against something deep and devastating inside of you and that's all it takes for you to split apart with a ragged scream. You hardly have time to brace for it when it finally reaches you. Bursts of white and piercing stars explode behind your eyes like a kaleidoscope; fire and electricity seize you tight, forcing every muscle in your body to wind up tight like you've been shocked. All of the air has been snatched from your lungs making your feel as though you've blacked out; lightheaded and sluggish. 

You can hear Feyd grunting in your ear, but his pacing has turned messy, losing the pronounced, steady rhythm he once had in his desperation to reach his own end. Thrusting into you in a manner that's almost wild. Both of his hands find your waist and his fingertips dig in deep enough to tear a weak cry from you. With a long, guttural moan he reaches his climax, burying himself deep into your cunt as he fills you with a flood of pulsing warmth before sagging back against the boarder of the tub. 

You aren't sure how long you stay like that for, suspended in a space tucked between your body and thrumming, pulsing heat. When your breath comes back to you, it's labored and deep, drawing in the scent of perfumed oils and the heady salt of sweat. You've gone limp, limbs lax and useless as your full weight drapes across the firm press of Feyd's body underneath you. It's soothing to have him close, even though it shouldn't be. There should be fear in your chest. Self-disgust and betrayal should hang over you like a cloud, but there's nothing except for satisfaction and peace. Maybe it will leave you once the influence of pheromones and the high of sex dissipate, and reality will come hurtling down on you with the conviction of a calamity. But as of now, you have no desire to entertain any of those anxieties. You nuzzle closer to Feyd, tucking your face into the crook of his neck with the ease of someone who's done it a thousand times, even while a faint part of you worries that he'll shove you away. That he might push you from him and rise from the bath to leave you abandoned in water turned tepid and soiled to remind you of your true place here. But he doesn't. He lets you settle over him, idly running his fingertips up the divot of your spine from over the cover of your soaked dress. 

You feel the thrum voice of his vibrate across his chest before you hear it, and a part of you expects some sort of scathing remark.

"Did I still disappoint?" 

Your eyebrows furrow at the question as your slow-moving brain struggles to follow the question, and the near flat quality of his voice doesn't assist you any. But when your finally grasp onto the realization, you can't fight off a light smile that perks at your lips from the notion that he might be teasing you. The affection is back with a vengeance. Blossoming in your chest, saccharine and warm. But now you don't have the strength to try and shove it away or to distract yourself. 

"Hmmm," you hum lowly, feigning consideration as you draw in a deep sigh. "I suppose you've redeemed yourself." 

The scent of something strongly metallic fills your nose, settling deep and pulling you from the gentle fuzz that's stuffed your skull. It draws you to pull yourself from the cradle of his chest to evaluate him. Your eyes are quick to scan his pallid skin and you immediately notice the rivulets of black that pour down his shoulder, streaming from the angry bitemark that has been cut into his flesh. Guilt spreads through you at the sight even though he had commanded - begged, really, for you to do it. You're sure that his blood is still smeared across your lips in a dark stain. More proof of the pain you had eagerly inflicted on him. 

"I'm sorry," you apologize softly. You reach down to cup some of the murky water into the divot of your palm, it has healing properties you remember reading, and lift it up to gently pour it over the wound. Even though it must sting, he doesn't so much as flinch underneath the feel of the medicinal liquid flowing over the gash. 

"Don't be," he assures. He glides the pad of one of his thumbs across your bottom lip, and you distantly gather that he's collecting the glaze of his blood there. His eyes follow the motion like he's entranced, and the intensity behind it could have sparked another bout of lust in you if you weren't already so spent. He lifts his black-stained fingers between you both, rubbing his fingertips together as he watches the smear of blood glitter underneath the cast of the pale lighting. "I'll wear it with pride." 

There it is again. More of that odd, unwavering devotion. Perhaps you should be suspicious of it. It could be some sort of ploy to lull you into a false sense of security, but instinct tells you that he's being purely honest. And that might be even more frightening. If he's already so committed and consumed by lust and entitlement now, then there's truly no idea what could happen if his admiration were to evolve into something deeper. Darker. Less restrained. Horrendously, the prospect of it intrigues you. You can't help but wonder what it would be like to bask under the attention of Feyd-Rautha's obsession. An even sicker side of you might hope for it too. 

You snap that thought shut and bury it deep before it can flourish. You concentrate your mind on your surroundings instead, like the dark water lapping along the edge of the bath, soaking the expensive fabrics of your dress, now damaged and defiled, and the musk of sex and fragrant oils hanging heavy in the air; the press of his flaccid cock still stuffed inside of you. But the weight of Feyd's stare cuts through all of it, gravitating your own to raise to him in turn. You can see the pale hint of blue reflecting in them, just as gorgeous as the expanse of a wild ocean. It draws you closer to him and he angles his head to join his lips to yours. For the first time this night this kiss is something soft and gentle. It feels like reverence when the plush of his mouth parts against yours. Drawing in the taste of you on the tip of his tongue, exchanging a mix or your arousal and his blood with the glide of your lips. It's a kiss that pulls you down into his orbit. It makes everything fade it an unclear background until the only thing that matters is the warmth of him underneath your hands; the pulse of his heartbeat thrumming steadily within his chest. With another delicate nip of his teeth and the sweep of his hands around you, temptation rings throughout your bones and begs you to fall into him. 

And without any resistance, you do. 

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Sweet Reunion

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: fluff, smut, high school crushes to lovers au

description: your best friend since high school is getting married, throwing a lavish wedding in a private resort on the bahamas. a week of having fun, drinking cocktails, eating nice food and enjoying the luxurious resort await for you. the only problem is, you don't have a plus one. your friend has an idea that just might light up some old forgotten flames.

word count: 14.4k

warnings: switch!reader and switch!hyunjin, multiple sex scenes, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), smut with feelings, fingering, creampies, oral (f and m receiving), shower sex, lots of praise and pet names, reader and Hyunjin are in love fr, squirting, face fucking, brief foot job and foot massage (lmk if i missed something)

important: for people with thalassophobia there's a scene of a night swim in the ocean

a/n: reader is depicted as chubby and with tan skin but you can imagine yourself however you want to!

i wanted to write romantic and infatuated hyune, hope you enjoy!🫶🏻

also sorry if the ending seems rushed asjksls

~check out my: Masterlist

"Look how pretty they came out!"- your best friend Nicki practically vibrates with happiness as she hands you her wedding invitation, wrapped in a baby blue envelope, gold details etched into the expensive material.

"It's beautiful, Nicki."- you smile.

"Open it, open it!"- she almost knocks the table over with how jumpy her legs are.

You chuckle at her giddiness and carefully open up the sealed envelope. The paper inside is also nice and feels expensive under your fingers, and golden letters are engraved into it, inviting you to witness the happiest day for Nicki and Josh, who've been high school sweethearts and your best friends for years.

You were more than happy to be a part of their beautiful love story, but you can't lie and say you weren't at least a little bit jelaous. You were still single, a few of your relationships never too serious, never growing into something more. Coming home to an empty apartment wasn't horrible since you didn't mind being alone but sometimes you needed comfort and arms wrapped around you, someone to be there for you and tell you that feeling sad and lonely sometimes is okay and normal.

But, you didn't want to wallow in your loneliness and bring down Nicki, even though you were pretty sure almost nothing could bring her down in this moment, in fact, you felt like you have to hold onto her so she doesn't fly up into the sky like a helium balloon with how excited she is.

"They really came out beautiful. You always had an eye for aesthetic stuff like this."- you smile at your friend.

"Thank you. For everything, you know. You helped me a lot with the wedding, and in general. I'm happy to have you as my maid of honor and I wouldn't dream of choosing anyone else for that."- she says as she holds your hand.

"God damn it Nicki, don't make me cry now."- you chuckle squeezing her hand.

"Sorry, but you already know the both of us will be like waterworks on my wedding. Better to get a head start already, hm?"- she jokes and both of you laugh.

"Also, I know you were worried about your plus one and not wanting to be dateless at the wedding."- she adds after your fit of laughter. "But you don't have to worry anymore."

"What? What did you do?"- you narrow your eyes at her.

"Well... I might've invited Hyunjin to be your plus one."- she smirks.

"Hwang Hyunjin?! The Hwang Hyunjin from high school?"- you start freaking out immediately.

"You're still in contact, right?"- she asks.

"Well, we text sometimes for birthdays and Christmas, and like each other's posts on Insta. You do know I had the biggest crush on him, right?"

"I do, that's why I asked him."- your friend wiggles her eyebrows.

"And he's okay with that?"- you swallow, butterflies swarming in your stomach at the thought of Hyunjin, something you haven't felt for years.

"He sounded happy to me."- Nicki keeps smirking.

"You actually called him?"- you chuckle in disbelief.

"Josh and I still talk to him sometimes too. I was gonna invite him anyway. So why not as your plus one?"

"I will literally faint when I see him in person."- you say.

"Oh, I hope you don't because he's walking towards us right now."- your friend announces, waving as the door of the diner open.

"He- what?!"- you snap your head towards the sound and see Josh walking with Hyunjin, both of them laughing.

Your jaw collides with the floor as you stare at your high school crush, you can't believe that he looks even more beautiful than he did back then. You're suddenly self-aware, cursing Nicki in your mind for bringing him without telling you first because you didn't even put on any makeup and it's unfair that he looks so good effortlessly, like it's normal and casual to roll out of bed looking like a god. Nothing is normal and casual about that. You also hate your choice for an outfit, only wearing some stupid old t-shirt and a pair of jeans you deemed clean, running out of your apartment this morning to what you thought was just a coffee with your best friend.

"Oh, hello Hyunjin!"- Nicki stands up and hugs him, patting his back.

"Hi, darling."- Josh smiles and Nicki gets instant heart eyes, even after so many years they were still in love with each other like they've literally just met.

"Hi, baby."- she cooes at him as they peck each other's lips shortly.

You stand up awkwardly, ready to shake Hyunjin's hand but he smiles sweetly at you and pulls you into a hug.

"It's so nice to see you, y/n."- he says as he wraps his arms around you and you swear you've stopped functioning. You barely register lifting your arms up and returning the hug. Hyunjin smells so nice, and despite the cologne he wears you can smell that distinct scent of him that made you feel drunk whenever he got closer to you in high school.

It's like you're 16 again, stealing glances at your crush during class, hoping he'll say hello to you in the halls, hoping you'll sit next to him during lunch. The nights you spent daydreaming about holding his hand, kissing his lips, the diary you kept that's full of Hyunjin's name and little hearts around it, all the memories flood back to you so vividly and you feel giddy and embarassed as you lean back.

Hyunjin still wears the sweet smile he always does, and you can see the tips of his ears reddening as his eyes take you in.

"It's nice to see you too."- you manage, your voice almost breaking from nervousness.

"This feels like high school, doesn't it?"- Nicki claps excitedly as the four of you sit down.

"Except I don't have the embarassing bangs I thought were the coolest shit ever back then."- you sigh, your cheeks warming up under Hyunjin's gaze that hasn't left you since he walked in.

"I thought they were cute."- Hyunjin says and you chuckle, your heart fluttering.

"And I got rid of my braces. Those were a pain in the ass."- Nicki sighs.

You spend at least an hour reminscing together, about your teachers, the shenanigans you got into, the first time you got drunk, gossip about people you knew from back then and you can't believe just how much of those memories somehow involve Hyunjin.

You're thankful for your friends as they made your high school experience less hard and embarassing, and more fun and filled with positive memories you can always think back on with fondness.

"Well, you two feel free to stay here but Josh and I have some more wedding stuff to get to. So, I'll text you later y/n."- Nicki winks at you and you wish you could convey through your eyes just how panicked you are to be left alone with Hyunjin already.

You feel awkward when they leave, and as you look up at Hyunjin he suddenly seems shy too as his eyes flutter away and then back to you again multiple times, his cheeks rosy.

"So, we didn't really manage to catch up."- he starts. "What do you do?"- he asks.

"Oh, I'm a veterinarian."- you say and Hyunjin smiles.

"You always wanted that. I'm glad you made your dream come true. Although, I had no doubts that you wouldn't."- he says, looking at you fondly and you melt into the chair you're sitting on.

"Thank you, really."- your face is warm again. "What about you?"

"I'm a painter. And a photographer. Mostly doing comissions and sometimes events."- he says shyly, like he's cautious not to sound like he's bragging.

"Look at you! You also made your dreams come true."- you say, smiling at him.

"Eh, I'm far from that. I still need to make a name for myself. I wish to own a gallery one day too."- Hyunjin says.

"You're being modest. Not many artists can say they live from their art. Plus, I believe you'll make it. I always did."- you confess, your heart hammering in your chest.

"T-thanks for believing in me."- Hyunjin smiles sheepishly. The tension between the two of you feels tangible, like you can cut through it with a knife.

"Thanks for agreeing to be my plus one."- you chuckle embarassingly.

"Oh, well it's my pleasure."- Hyunjin shifts in his chair, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

This is going to be interesting.

-

Nicki calls you that afternoon excitedly asking for details of your "date" with Hyunjin.

You tell her it wasn't a date, and after you tell her what the two of you talked about you almost shriek loudly into the receiver when she informs you that Hyunjin and you would be sharing a suite at the resort.

Nicki invited around 200 guests to her wedding which you thought was too much, but it's not your place to comment on it. If she wants to throw a big lavish wedding, she should do what her heart desires. But only about 20 of the guests, including hers and Josh's immediate family and closest friends were invited to come a few days earlier and enjoy the pre-wedding activities and the luxurious resort fully.

This ofcourse includes you and your plus one, with whom you'd be sharing the suite.

"And you didn't tell me this earlier because?"- you pace around your living room.

"Because I knew you'd be freaking out."- she laughs.

"I'm not freaking out."- you say, trying to sound calm.

"Yes, you are."- Nicki chuckles.

"Yes, I am! You want me to basically live with Hyunjin for almost a week?!"

"Y/n, this is a great chance for igniting some old flames. Obviously everyone knows you two were head over heels for each other except the two of you. Which is so funny in retrospect. Like how you'd stare at Hyunjin and sigh dreamily. And then he would stare at you every time you looked away. We actually had bets on who'll make the first move."- Nicki tells you and you can't help the chuckle that escapes your lips at the silliness from high school.

"I guess all of you lost because neither of us made a move. I didn't think he ever saw me that way. He's you know... Hyunjin. And I'm me."- you sigh, sitting down on your couch.

"What is that even supposed to mean bestie? Don't start with the pity party because Hyunjin would literally kiss the ground you walk on even now. Didn't you see the way he was looking at you?"- Nicki says.

"Don't exaggerate! I did see it but maybe he was looking at me like that because he didn't see me in a long time and-"

"Y/n, face it. Hyunjin and you have some feelings left from high school that need to be explored. Don't feel nervous and trust me. As soon as we come to the beautiful resort, as soon as you drink your first cocktail and take a swim in the ocean, you'll be seeing things differently. You need to loosen up. We all do."- Nicki sighs happily.

"I hope you're right. I'm honestly kinda excited."

"You better be more than kinda excited for my wedding!"- Nicki threatens you jokingly.

"I'm beyond estatic for you."- you chuckle, shaking your head even though she can't see you.

-

You can't sleep the night before the flight to the Bahamas. You checked your suitcase like a hundred times, making sure you packed everything you'd need for the trip.

You decided to also pack some cute lingerie just in case and since it was the Bahamas and you were basically gonna let loose as your best friend said, you packed the skimpiest bathing suits and the shortest dresses you had. Hoping in your mind, Hyunjin would be the one to take them off of you.

You slap yourself internally, annoyed at how far you're already thinking about Hyunjin in all kind of unholy scenarios when the two of you had barely just begun hanging out again.

You toss and turn in bed in anticipation, unable to sleep almost all night, your alarm blasting at 6am. You arrive at the airport feeling like a truck ran you over and meet up with Nicki and Josh, and their family.

Hyunjin joined you not too long after you came and again he looked like a model for a luxury brand who just woke up looking perfect. You felt a bit embarassed but what was making you even more nervous is that he hasn't taken his eyes off you yet again.

You made small talk while waiting for the plane, like there wasn't a break in your communication since high school ended. Being next to Hyunjin and talking to him felt so natural and weirdly normal.

Sitting in the plane next to Nicki and a few other close friends, you listened to music and daydreamed about all the possible romantic scenarios that could happen between you and your high school crush.

You were ready for almost anything.

-

As soon as you leave the airport and arrive at the resort, you already start feeling like another person. The air is different, better, more fresh. Everything looks more vibrant than the dull city and the resort looks expensive as fuck and you feel excited to be at a place like that, knowing that even with your decent pay you could never afford something like this, especially for a huge wedding.

Not that you wanted a huge wedding like your friend did, on the contrary, you'd rather have a small and intimate ceremony with just a few people who matter the most to you.

You scoff at yourself, thinking about a wedding when you can't even have a serious relationship.

"What is it?"- Hyunjin appears next to you with a smile and you shake your head quickly, cheeks heating up from how close to you he's standing, his shoulder brushing yours.

"Nothing, just thinking how expensive this place looks."

"Probably costs an arm and a leg."- Hyunjin nods, looking around.

The staff welcomes you, taking your luggage and bringing it to your rooms, with Nicki and Josh at the front, probably making sure that everything is okay with the reservations.

"Your suite is number 14."- Nicki strides towards you with a keycard, a smirk on her face as she looks between you and Hyunjin.

"Thanks."- you chuckle at her expression as you grab the keycard.

"We're gonna have so much fun! We should all freshen up and then meet up for lunch."- Nicki smiles at you and Hyunjin, and your other friends who are all couples.

Everyone agrees to meet up in the lobby in an hour and you make your way to the suite with Hyunjin.

The walk is comfortably silent but your heart is beating loudly in your ears. Being alone with Hyunjin and a bed brings all kinds of dirty thoughts to your mind.

As soon as you walk in, both you and Hyunjin gasp. The suite isn't just a room, it's like a small apartment. There's a huge bathroom, kitchen, living room, balcony and a jacuzzi in the yard.

"This is insane."- you whisper in disbelief.

"I've always wanted to go to a place like this."- Hyunjin admits.

"Me too, honestly. Like I'm not that fancy as a person but just sometimes you wanna drink expensive champagne and sit in a jacuzzi, you know?"- you say and Hyunjin laughs.

"Ah, to be rich and without worries."- he sighs dramatically as you two look around, finding your luggage neatly placed next to the closet in the bedroom.

"Well, we can pretend we're that while were here."- you say and Hyunjin agrees with you.

Both of you start unpacking as you glance at the bed, it's a decent size to where both of you would fit and it makes something stir in your gut. Hyunjin notices you staring at the bed.

"If you're uncomfortable, I will sleep on the couch, I really don't mind."- he smiles at you.

"What? No way, I'll sleep on the couch."- you say and he snorts.

"There's no way I'd let you do that. I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing you're cramped on that couch, no matter how soft it looks."- he says and you feel your face heating up again.

You can't believe the words that come out of your mouth next.

"We can share the bed."

Hyunjin looks surprised, his eyes widdening and lips falling open silently as he tries to answer. His cheeks are pink as he smiles.

"Alright. If you're okay with that, I'm okay with it too."- he says.

Both of you continue unpacking and talking and Hyunjin insists you take a shower first while he waits like the gentleman he is.

You grab your shower stuff and a change of clothes and head for the bathroom.

As soon as you walk into the huge shower, you're confused. The shower looks more like a spaceship with buttons you don't understand, it's fancier than any shower you ever used you have no idea how to turn it on.

You play on luck and press a button, making hot water spray over you and you shriek as it burns your skin, quickly turning it off by pressing the same button.

"Y/n, are you okay?!"- you hear Hyunjin's muffled voice on the other side of the door.

"Ugh, yeah, just a sec!"- you call out, walking out of the shower and grabbing the robe that the resort staff left in the bathroom.

You quickly put it on, tying it and trying to cover up as much as you can before you open the door.

Hyunjin's face becomes deeply red as he gives you the elevator eyes, taking your appearance in.

"This is embarassing but I don't know how to turn on that shower."- you say quietly as Hyunjin stands there, catching flies with his mouth open, eyes lingering on your cleavage.

"Oh. I'll- I'll check it out."- he says and you step aside, letting him come in.

It's awkward as he fiddles with the buttons while you peer at what he's doing, standing behind him on your tippy toes.

He presses a few buttons and both of you scream as soon as the water starts spraying from the ceiling, bursting out in laughter the moment you lock eyes with each other.

"This is a shower running on quantum physics."- Hyunjin says as he fiddles with the buttons again. "But I think I get it."- he finally manages to adjust the water.

You step in closer and Hyunjin explains which buttons he pressed and how to control the temperature.

"Thank you."- you say, embarassment seeping into you once again.

"Yeah, no problem. I'll... leave you to it."- he steps out, and you try to calm your breathing, with the prospect of having Hyunjin in the shower with you dancing around in your mind.

The shower is big enough to fit two people, especially if they wanna do certain activities. You scold yourself as you do your skincare, thinking that you must be really touch deprived to be this horny. Or maybe it's just Hyunjin's fault, for looking that good and being so sweet.

-

By the time lunch comes around, you are so hungry you can barely think.

You meet up with Nicki and Josh on the terrace of one of the resort's restaurants, and the view is simply breathtaking.

The ocean kissing the sand looks alluring and it invites you to dive in and find out all the secrets it hides. You briefly forget about your call to the ocean as Hyunjin brings out your chair and smiles cutely at you, his dimples showing as he looks at you through his sunglasses.

"Thanks."- you mutter and sit down.

Two other couples join you and everyone starts conversing about how beautiful the resort is. Nicki asks about the rooms and you tell her about the confusing shower to which she laughs, saying that it's some new technology and that she would love to have a shower like that installed at home.

You order your food, ready to even eat the plate with how your stomach is growling.

"So, how long have you and Hyunjin been together?"- Sophia, Nicki's friend from work, asks you as you eat the delicious food and you almost choke on the bite in your mouth.

"W-were not together. Were just... friends."- you say hesitantly, unable to look at Hyunjin, missing the look of embarassment and disappointment on his face.

"Oh, sorry."- Sophia makes an awkward face.

"Friends. For now."- Nicki smirks.

"Nicki!"- you smack her arm and she laughs like she just said the funniest joke.

Josh reads the awkwardness between you and Hyunjin and quickly changes the theme to all the things the resort offers.

You steal a glance at Hyujin and he seems to be contemplating something, deep in thought as he stares at the ocean. You wonder if it calls to him too.

"I wanna swim in the ocean."- Hyunjin says suddenly, like he can read your mind.

"Me too."- you agree immediately and he looks at you like he didn't realize he said that out loud.

"We should all go swim-" - Sophia starts but Nicki kicks her under the table making her gasp.

"No, no. There's a thing I wanna show you, Soph. You know."- Nicki nods towards the two of you as you talk quietly and Sophia realizes Nicki's plans.

"Oh. Yeah, I know."- she nods quickly.

-

"So, should we go to the beach?"- you ask Hyunjin after you get back to your room from the lunch, feeling a pleasant buzz from the good food and a few drinks you had.

"I was thinking more of a night swim."- he smiles mischieviously.

"A night swim? Isn't that kinda scary?"- you ask.

"I think it's exciting."- he says, looking at your every move as you take the bottle of wine in the kitchen and take out two glasses.

"Have you ever tried it?"- you ask him, struggling to open the wine.

"A few times. You?"- Hyunjin asks as he makes his way towards you.

"No, never."

"Do you want to?"- Hyunjin's breath hits the back of your neck as he suddenly appears behind you.

Shivers run down your spine as his arms wrap around you but his hands reach for the wine bottle you're holding.

"Let me help."- he whispers.

"I want to. I mean go on a night swim. But, I'd like to try the jacuzzi first."- you swallow as Hyunjin manages to open up the bottle with a pop.

"Sure, I'd like that too."- he smiles as he steps away from you, like he wasn't just all up in your private space leaving you hot and bothered. "We can do whatever we want to, really."- he adds, and you look at him trying to read his mind but all you get is him looking at you warmly, like you're the most beautiful and precious thing he's ever seen, you can even swear there's a twinkle in his eyes as he smiles at you.

Is he flirting with you?

You're sure at this point that you're feeding into your delusions and you turn around to pour two wine glasses.

"Here. To Nicki and Josh."- you say and Hyunjin chuckles as he takes the glass from your hand.

"To Nicki and Josh."-your glasses clink together. "And to us."- he adds and your chest flutters.

"To... us."- you nod and both of you take a sip.

-

The sun is just starting to set as Hyujin lowers himself into the jacuzzi, waiting for you to join him.

You're in the bathroom, trying on your third bathing suit and checking yourself out in the mirror.

You're usually not this self-aware but you saw how toned and lean Hyunjin's body is and looking at your slightly chubby figure, you wonder if he'll like the way you look. You always said you'd be damned if you ever let a man's opinion on your body change the way you see yourself but Hyunjin looks at you with such intensity that you're scared he will see all the flaws clearly.

Ultimately, you decide on the first one, a white bathing suit with gold details that compliments your tan skin, and you finally gather the courage to actually walk out of the bathroom. As soon as you step out into the private yard, Hyunjin looks up at you. You catch the quiet gasp that leaves his lips, redness spreading on his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears and down his neck. He barely conceals the smile that breaks out on his face.

"I like your bathing suit."- he says as you step into the jacuzzi slowly, and he mentally slaps himself for saying that instead of telling you that you look like the most beautiful goddess he has ever seen.

"T-thank you."- you chuckle as you quickly sit down into the water. Hyunjin turns away from you, a smile still playing on his lips as he grabs your wine glass from before and passes it to you.

For a few moments, all that can be heard is the sounds of the swirling water in the jacuzzi and the light jazz that Hyunjin probably put on coming from the room, as the two of you admire the orange and pink hues painting the sky above the ocean.

"So, do you still dance?"- you ask him, after taking a few sips of the wine.

"Oh yeah, in my free time. What about you? You used to like dancing too."- Hyunjin tilts his head at you.

"I did. I mean, I do like it, I just don't have that much time anymore. Plus, I wasn't really good."

"That's such a lie!"- Hyunjin chuckles. "You're a great dancer. Almost as good as me."- he jokes with a smirk.

"Yeah, almost."- you chuckle with him.

"So, what takes up all your time except work?"- Hyunjin asks, and you notice he's sitting closer to you now.

"I do volunteer work too, I help out at animal shelters and such. It's hard for me to resist helping animals in need. I don't have the heart to turn the blind eye."

"That's really sweet of you."- Hyunjin smiles. "So, basically you work all the time."- he chuckles. "No significant other?"

"If there was, they'd be here with me now."- you say and feel Hyunjin's thigh slightly press against yours under the water, making your core throb immediately. "W-what about you?"

"Still waiting for the one."- he smiles at you, his arm sneaking behind your upper back.

"Forever the romantic soul, huh?"- you chuckle nervously, he's so close to you.

"Do you believe in love?"- his eyes roam all over your face like he's analyzing it and it's hard to focus and not be on edge when you can literally count his eyelashes and when he's asking questions like that.

"Ofcourse I do. Honestly, I'm just a little disappointed with love right now."- you sigh.

"Bad experiences?"- he asks.

"More so bland than bad."- you answer, and Hyunjin goes silent for a few moments.

The sun has almost completely gone down, leaving your faces illuminated by the fairy lights in the garden.

"You know... I have something to confess."- Hyunjin says suddenly, his knee resting on yours and he's even closer now.

"Y-yeah?"- your voice trembles.

"I had the biggest crush on you in high school."- Hyunjin says, his eyes softening.

Your brain short circuits as you try to process what he just said. The biggest crush of your life, the one you pined over for years, the most beautiful and sweet man you've ever met felt the same way about you?

"Y/n?"- Hyunjin says unsurely as you stay quiet.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't... I never knew you felt the same way as me."- you accidentally say and Hyunjin looks at you, before he realizes what you said and his eyes widden as he gasps.

"You had a crush on me too?!"- he asks, seemingly excited.

"Come on, Hyun. Everyone had a crush on you in high school. People called you Prince. It's not exactly news."- you chuckle awkwardly, trying to ignore the way your heart is beating fast.

"I don't care about everyone. I care about you."- he says, his cheeks rosy. "I never thought you'd feel the same though."

"Me either. Actually, Nicki told me that everyone knew. And that they made bets on which one of us will make the first move."- you chuckle and Hyunjin laughs.

"Our friends really are something."- he says. He looks like he's about to say something again but you feel so nervous that you get up abruptly.

"I feel like I'll melt into the water if I keep sitting in the hot tub. I think I'm gonna take a shower and go to bed. I need to catch up on some sleep."- you talk quickly as Hyunjin looks at you, the look on his face slightly confused and a little bit dejected.

You basically run away from him and lock yourself in the bathroom. You try to catch your breath first, thinking what the fuck just happened in there?

Hyunjin's confession coupled with his body so close to yours intoxicated you more than the expensive wine ever could. You needed a cold shower.

-

You leave the bathroom on your tippy toes, dressed in your night gown and ready for bed.

You hope you can avoid Hyunjin at least for tonight, while you gather courage to face him again tomorrow and your plan is to get into bed and act like you're asleep if he asks you something or tries to talk to you.

You know it's childish but the figurative butterflies in your stomach are making you nauseous each time Hyunjin smiles at you.

"I'll go get ready for bed."- your plan is interrupted as Hyunjin appears seemingly from out of nowhere, grabbing his clothes.

You sigh and sit in bed, grabbing your phone and checking your messages. You see that Nicki had texted you asking how's it going with your 'lover' and if you're getting any 'action'.

You snort at your phone, quickly typing out an answer that he isn't your lover and that there is no action whatsoever.

You toss your phone aside and lay down, your muscles instantly relaxing into the bed, and you think how it's definitely the most comfortable bed you've ever touched.

You hear Hyunjin shuffling towards the room and he walks in wearing only his boxers, his hair damp from the shower and you swear your heart skips a beat or two.

"I'm actually feeling tired now. I think the plane and change of scenery are finally catching up to me."- Hyunjin talks as he gets under the covers and you wonder why this feels so casual like it happens every single night, like you're a couple that has been sleeping next to each other for years.

"Yeah. I'm barely awake."- you answer, your eyelids becoming heavy despite the fact that Hyunjin is laying next to you half naked and you can feel the heat radiating off of his body, inviting you closer to him, making you wish you could melt into his arms.

"I wanted to show you some of my recent art but we can save that for tomorrow. I'd also like for us to continue our talk."- he whispers the last sentence.

"What talk?"- you ask, already falling asleep.

"About our feelings."- you think you hear him say, but you can't fight the sleep anymore.

-

There is an arm around you. There is an arm around you.

Your eyes snap open and trail down towards your waist.

There is an arm around it, holding you tightly and there is a warm body attached to your backside.

You panic and then you remember where you are and who you're with and then you panic even more.

"Hyun?"- you whisper, trying to look back at him. "Hyunjin?"- you try again.

"Mmh?"- his voice is muffled, half of his face smushed into your pillow.

"I think Nicki wanted to see us for brunch or something."- you say awkwardly.

"Mm yeah, I'm awake."- he says, moving away and then you hear him gasp. "Oh my god, I am so sorry for getting all into your space and practically sleeping on you."- his face is red when you turn to look at him finally, and he looks even more embarassed than you are.

"I'm used to hugging my pillow every night."- he says sheepishly and you chuckle, deciding to tease him.

"Am I the equivalent to your pillow? Is that what you're saying?"- you smirk.

"No, no! You're way better than a pillow. I mean... you know what I mean... Nevermind, I'm gonna go get dressed."- Hyunjin rambles as he gets up clumsily, almost tripping over nothing as you stare at him and chuckle under your breath.

You can't believe you actually have that effect on him, and you also can't believe he looks so good when he just wakes up. It's like his lips look even more pouty than usual and you wish you could kiss those pretty lips until they're bruising.

And with the morning sun rays peeking through the window, you can see Hyunjin in all his glory and the sight makes your mouth water.

He grabs some clothes and you quickly look away as he turns around, busying yourself with your phone. There are a few texts from Nicki asking if you're up, and to come down to the restaurant you ate yesterday at for brunch. You quickly text her that you'll be there soon as the two of you get ready.

-

You didn't expect for Nicki to drag you and her other friends away from the guys claiming the girls need to go shopping and have some fun on their own. You're actually thankful for that because with the way your heart's beating fast the whole time Hyunjin is near you, you think you're seriously gonna have a heart attack.

"So, tell me, what happened last night with Hyunjin?"- she lowers her voice as she hooks her arm with yours, while you walk through the mall.

"Nothing happened. We talked."- you shrug.

"Boo! Boring! Give me some juicy details."- she shoves you a little and you laugh, shoving her back playfully.

"Well, we sat in the hot tub. Like real close."- you say and Nicki gasps. "And then Hyunjin told me he had the biggest crush on me in high school."

"Y/n!!! That is huge! I knew it, oh my god! What did you do?"- Nicki asks excitedly and you chuckle at her.

"I basically ran away and went to sleep."

She shakes her head looking like a disappointed mother as she narrows her eyes at you.

"You should've kissed him."

"Yeah, right."- you scoff.

"I'm telling you, don't miss out on a good thing."

-

You had a fun time with the girls, getting to know some of Nicki's other friends more, ofcourse with a cocktail or two in your hands because who cares, you're practically on vacation.

But your mind wanders to Hyunjin the whole time and you can't wait to be alone with him again.

He texts you telling you he came back to your shared room and asking if you're hungry to which you answer that you're starving. It's somewhere around dinner time as you walk into the suite, leaving the bags from your shopping trip in the living room.

A nice smell spreads from the kitchen making your stomach growl as you walk towards it.

You didn't expect to see Hyunjin in an apron, actually making dinner.

"Oh hey, you're back just in time. Dinner's almost done."- he turns towards you and smiles.

Your heart flutters when you see that the table is set, and there's flowers in the middle of it and a few candles and it all looks so romantic.

"I hope you like what I made. I'm not the best cook but I tried. I know we could go to any expensive restaurant here but honestly, I wanted it to be just the two of us."- Hyunjin rambles.

"Oh, it already smells really nice. I'm sure it'll be delicious."- you say, finally snapping out of your trance as you come closer to him. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure."

The food is actually delicious, and the expensive wine adds to it, and the fact that Hyunjin cooked for you just makes everything much better and tastier. You both share how you spent the afternoon, agreeing that this is probably the most relaxed you've ever felt in your life.

Hyunjin remembers the night swim you promised him and you glance out the window at the almost completely dark sky.

"Let's do it."

Both of you get ready for the beach, giggling like little kids as you make your way towards it. You feel giddy and adventurous, like you're having an out of body experience cause there is no way you would do something like this usually.

You find a quiet part of the beach and sit down on your towels first, Hyunjin sitting close to you again, leaning on his arm that's placed behind your back.

He turns towards you and you can barely make out his features in the almost complete darkness while his eyes roam all over your face illuminated by the distant lights of a beach bar.

"I have to say, I'm so happy to be here with you. I'm happy that Nicki's and Josh's wedding brought us together again."- Hyunjin says quietly and you swallow as butterflies rise up to your throat.

"Me too."- you whisper.

"You have no idea how many times I wanted to just dm you on Insta and ask you to meet up."- he confesses.

"Really?"- you chuckle.

"Yeah. But I always chickened out, I don't know why. I guess it's because of the same reason I never asked you out in high school."

"Which is?"

"Which is that I always thought you could do better than me."- Hyunjin sighs and you can't help the scoff that leaves your lips. The Hwang Hyunjin was insecure next to you? What dimension did you fall into?

"That's absurd. I thought the same thing for you though."- you add and he laughs.

"We were dumb, both of us. But I hope we've grown and we know better now, hm?"- Hyunjin asks, his hand resting on your lower back, his eyes landing on your lips as he slowly leans in closer.

"I would hope so too."- your voice trembles as his leg presses against yours.

"Can I kiss you?"- he asks and you don't even answer verbally, you close the gap and your lips land on his.

He reciprocates immediately, his hand wrapping around you as yours tangles in his hair. Kissing his soft lips feels even better than you could ever imagine. You can't believe you're finally kissing your high school love, you feel like you're actually floating on clouds and also exploding at the same time.

Hyunjin's kiss is slow, purposeful and sensual until he gets drunk on you and then his kisses become more passionate and desperate, tongue prodding at your mouth. Your lips part to let him in, his free hand is on your cheek now as he angles your head to push his tongue in deeper and explore your mouth. You grip at his arm and his hair and Hyunjin grunts into you, the sound going straight down to your core.

"H-Hyunjin..."- you whisper as you part for air. He chuckles and then full on laughs as he leans his forehead on yours.

"You've no idea how long I wanted to do that."- he licks his lips.

"Same."- you say and he leans back and smirks.

"How about that night swim, hm?"- he wiggles his eyebrows as he takes off his t-shirt. You gulp and look around before taking your dress off.

You're in your bathing suit, but Hyunjin doesn't stop at his shirt. His fingers hook into his swim trunks as he stands up and slides them down, his dick in front of your face and your body feels hot as you gasp and turn away.

"W-what are you doing?"- you almost shriek and Hyunjin laughs.

"Swimming naked. Your turn."- he says and you look up at him. "I mean, don't feel pressured, you don't have to if you feel uncomfortable."

"I want to."- you bite your lip, your hands behind your back as you untie your bathing suit, letting it fall down. Your breasts spill out of it and Hyunjin's eyes are full of lust as he stares at them, wishing he could bury his face between them in that moment. You stand up and slide your panties down, now completely naked in front of Hyunjin.

Your heart hammers in your chest as he looks at you and you feel a little self-conscious.

"You're beautiful."- he smiles sincerely and you think you're gonna have that heart attack right about now.

"So are you."- you say and Hyunjin laughs sweetly as he grabs your hand, fingers intertwining with yours.

"Are you ready?"- he asks.

"I'm a little scared."- you say as you look at the dark ocean in front of you.

"I'll keep you safe, darling."- Hyunjin looks at you softly.

"Okay."- you say and the two of you get into the water, both of you screaming because it's cold but you're already in it so you wanna go all the way.

"Oh my god!"- you shriek as Hyunjin laughs and screams at the same time, his arms flapping around funnily.

"It's cold as fuck!"- you say.

"We'll warm up."- he swims closer to you, winking at you and you roll your eyes at him playfully.

"Something- something's touching my leg."- Hyunjin's serious suddenly and you panic a little.

"Don't joke around."- you warn him but he shakes his head.

"I'm not, I can feel something-" - he says and then screams as something tugs on his leg, almost pulling him under water.

"Hyunjin!"- you panic, trying to swim closer to him as he flaps around.

You're scared until you come close to him and he suddenly stops the dramatic flapping and gives you a dumb smirk.

"There's nothing, I was joking."- he says calmly and you smack his shoulder.

"You asshole! I was really scared for a sec! Why would you do that?"- you whine at him and he pouts at you, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into his body.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to joke around a little. I wont do that again, I promise. I'll make it up to you, please don't be mad."- he continues pouting as you try to ignore him, even though your arms are wrapped around his shoulders.

"Start making up for it now and I'll think about forgiving you."- you smirk and Hyunjin presses himself closer to you, your breasts pressed against his chest. He leans in and you make out in the water, forgetting about the cold and the fact that someone could catch you in that moment. You don't care about any of that, you only care about Hyunjin's arms around you and his tongue licking into your mouth.

"Let's get out of here."- you smirk and both of you swim back to the beach and get out of the water, still holding hands.

You sit on your towel and Hyunjin grabs his, wrapping it around the both of you. You start kissing immediately, feeling like you're finally making up for all the years of pining over each other.

Your limbs tangle together, hands roaming all over each other's bodies and both of you heat up again after cooling down in the water. Hyunjin's hands come up to cup your breasts and you moan into his mouth as he runs his thumbs on your perky nipples.

"Hyun..."- you moan, arching into his touch.

"I want you."- he whispers on your lips.

"Here?"- you giggle, caressing the back of his neck.

"Mhm. Here. I can't wait anymore."- he whines.

"Ah, me either. I want you too."- you say, your hands tangling in his wet hair.

"I have a condom in my pocket somewhere."- he tries to find his pants but you grab his hand.

"I want to feel you completely."- you say, your voice low as you look at him with eyes full of lust.

"Fuck... Okay darling, whatever you want."- Hyunjin says, his pupils blown.

He can't wait anymore as he lays you down, plump lips attaching to your neck, his hands massaging your breasts and you feel arousal drip between your legs, you need him more than you've needed anything in your life ever.

He bites down into your skin, sucking on it and you moan, gripping his bicep. Your hand slides to his wrist and you guide his hand between your legs.

"Touch me, please."- you whimper.

"Gladly."- Hyunjin whispers, his fingers on your clit immediately, massaging the bundle of nerves in circles as he kisses you again, his tongue playing with yours. He swallows every moan you release, your hips lifting up into his touch as he runs his fingers over your wet folds.

"So wet. All this for me?"- he asks as he leans back and looks at you, caressing your hair.

"Only for you."- you answer and he presses two of his fingers on your entrance, silently asking for permission as he looks into your eyes. You nod and he bites on his lip, slowly pushing his digits into you.

"Ah!"- you moan, nails digging into the towel below you as he pushes in deeply, curling his fingers to find that gummy spot that drives you crazy.

You spread your legs for him, his hand speeding up, the tips of his fingers hitting that sweet spot over and over again making you see stars. He scissors his fingers inside you, the wet sounds of your arousal melting into the sound of the waves crashing together in front of your heated bodies.

You spill your juices over his fingers as you arch you back and grip his wrist, pushing him deeper into you as you ride out your orgasm.

"Fuck, you're so hot babygirl."- Hyunjin groans before pulling his fingers out of you and putting them in his mouth.

"Mm."- he moans around them. "Taste so sweet."

"Please Hyun, I need you."- you whimper, grabbing at him and pulling him closer to you.

"You don't have to beg, sweet girl. I'll give you anything you want."- he smirks at you, stroking his cock before pushing between your folds slowly, his eyes staring into yours intensely.

You moan loudly, the stretch is delicious as he fills you up, sliding himself slowly into you so you feel every inch of his hard cock opening up your pussy.

"Mm you're so tight."- Hyunjin moans into your ear as he leans down closer to you, his hands resting on your hips. "Feels so good to finally be inside you."

"Ah, Hyun- move, please."- you whine, burning up for him and him only.

He starts slowly fucking into you as you wrap your legs and arms around him bringing him even closer to you, wanting your bodies to melt into each other like the sea foam melting over the sand. Everything disappears around you except the ocean and Hyunjin. He's deep inside you, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly as your pussy stretches to take him perfectly, like it was made just for his cock. And as you rock together, you realize you love him, you've loved him for years and even though you never had a taste of him before tonight, none of the people you tasted before made you this hungry for them. No one could compare to Hyunjin, nothing could compare to the feelings running deep inside you, deeper than the dark ocean murmuring before you.

"Y/n, are you okay? Am I hurting you?!"- Hyunjin looks panicked and just then you feel the tears sliding down your cheeks.

"No, no. You're perfect."- you say and his eyes soften as he slowly starts moving his hips again.

"Then what's wrong, darling?"- he asks.

"I... I love you, Hyunjin."- you say with all your heart and Hyunjin practically melts, his face breaking into the happiest smile you've ever seen.

"I love you too, y/n. I've loved you for years. Don't cry, my darling."- he wipes your tears away.

"Make me yours, Hyunjin. Fuck me and make me yours."- you plead as you grab onto him desperately and he grips your hips, eyes rolling back as he starts fucking you faster.

The feeling of his cock splitting you apart, his hips slapping into yours, your mixed breaths and moans makes the sea inside you rise, the waves crashing over you as your hearts wild inside your chests, the ocean wilding together with the two of you, almost tickling at your feet.

"I'll make you mine, darling. Only mine."- Hyunjin groans, one of his hands on your breast and his mouth busy with your nipple as he fucks his cock into you harshly. You can't take anymore and with the crashing wave you snap and explode, squirting on his pulsating cock.

"Mm Hyunjin!"- you moan his name as he fucks you through your high, hips becoming sloppier before he twitches inside you, and then paints your insides with his warm cum, pushing as deep as he can to make you only his.

"Wow."- he breathes hard, leaning his forehead on your shoulder as you wrap your arms around him and hold him tightly.

"Wow indeed."- you say and he lifts his head up, giving you the cutest smile that reaches his eyes.

"I love you."- he whispers.

"I love you."- you whisper back and he pecks your lips gently, sweetly.

"Let's get out of here before we freeze our asses off."- you add and he chuckles, kissing your forehead.

-

"I really needed that warm shower."- you shiver under the blanket that Hyunjin found in the wardrobe.

"Same."- he says, sliding under the cover with you. "Are you still cold?"

"Mhm."- you nod.

"Come here, we'll warm each other up."- he says as he opens his arms and you roll into his embrace lazily making him giggle. You wrap around each other, limbs and hearts tangled together as you breathe each other in.

"I feel like I'm in high school."- you giggle, your fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. His hand rests on your waist as he caresses you gently.

"Yeah, like were sneaking around from our parents after our curfew."- Hyunjin chuckles. "Oh, would you let me sketch you? Or maybe paint you even?"- he asks, his hand coming up to caress your cheek.

"You brought your supplies with you?"- you ask.

"I don't go anywhere without them. Just in case inspiration hits, you know?"- he smiles, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Okay, I'll be your inspiration then."- you smirk and lean in to kiss his soft lips.

"Remind me... to show you... some art tomorrow."- Hyunjin mumbles between kisses.

"Mhm."- you mutter against his lips, unable to detach yourself away from him. You wish you could stay like this forever, close to your Hyunjin, your lips attached to his like he was giving you air.

You have no idea how long you kissed each other like that before the two of you fell asleep, holding each other as close as you could.

-

The sunlight is almost blinding as it comes through the window, the warmness of it and of your lover's body so close to yours make you wanna spend the whole day in bed, wrapped in the blanket and wrapped up in Hyunjin.

His face is smushed into your chest, his arm and leg around you holding you tightly. You chuckle quietly, lips pressed to his forehead as you comb your fingers through his soft hair.

"Mm."- he mutters, nuzzling between your breasts.

"You having fun there?"- you poke at him and he chuckles quietly before rubbing his face on your skin gently.

"I don't wanna move."- his voice is slightly muffled and you giggle, knuckles brushing his cheek.

"Me either but we kinda have to get up."- you say.

"Says who?"- Hyunjin mumbles, leaving little kisses on the valley of your breast.

"Nicki. She wants us girls to go to the beach and then have a spa day."- Hyunjin groans at that, holding you tighter.

"So, you're leaving me again?"- he finally looks up at you and you chuckle at his squinty eyes and pouty lips.

"You'll have me later again."- you smirk.

"Okay, deal."- he nods, pouting at you cutely like he's begging for a kiss. You lean in, still smirking, so close to his lips but you stop there, waiting for him to react to your teasing.

Hyunjin whines and opens his eyes.

"Kiss me."- he pouts again and you chuckle, pressing your lips on his, both of you melting into each other instantly.

"I'll miss you until later."- Hyunjin whispers and your heart flutters as he caresses you everywhere he can reach, his lips on your skin.

"I'll miss you too."

-

"You what?!"- Nicki screams when you tell her the details of last night.

"Lower your voice, please."- you smack her arm as you look around the beach.

"You fucked on this beach?! You guys are more adventurous than I thought."- she wiggles her eyebrows with a sly smirk, pushing you playfully.

"We couldn't wait to get to our room so..."- you smirk and she almost screams again, both of you giggling like crazy.

"What else?"- she asks.

You thought about telling her how you've already confessed love to each other, but for some reason that felt so intimate to you that for now you wanted to keep that between you and Hyunjin.

You told her some other details and Nicki was estatic for you, as happy as you are for her and Josh. You talked about the bachelorette and the wedding, Nicki being so excited about all of it that she was practically walking on water.

You had a fun time actually swimming during the day, when you can see how clear the ocean is, the sun reflecting off of the water making everything look a hundred times more special and wondrous.

After the beach, you and the girls hit the spa, needing a self-care day and you tried all the different massages you had no idea even existed.

Feeling extraordinarily relaxed after the spa and yummy lunch, you were basically ready for a nap.

As you walk back into your suite, you hear some faint music coming from the balcony.

You follow the sound and peek out of the door, Hyunjin's sitting on one of the chairs, a sketchbook in his hands as he draws.

You lean on the door frame, staring at him fondly as his hand glides expertly over the rough paper.

"You can admire me from afar, but I think you'd like me better up front."- he smirks, eyes not leaving the sketch he's working on.

"Haha, very funny, Prince."- you say mockingly and he chuckles, looking up at you.

"I mean it, pretty. Come closer."- he wiggles his finger at you, you roll your eyes playfully but make your way to him.

"Closer."- he tugs on your arm gently as you stand in front of him.

"A little bit closer."- he adds as you start leaning in.

You smirk and tease him, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks.

"Almost there."- he whispers, your lips close to his and you give in and kiss him with a smile on your lips. His free hand comes up to hold the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, breathing you in like you're his oxygen.

"What are you sketching?"- you ask when you part.

"I was sketching the sky but now that you're here, I'd like to sketch you."- he smiles.

"Alright."- you nod, sitting down on the other chair. Hyunjin pours you some lemonade, flipping his page as he gets back into his drawing.

You talk about anything and everything, he lets you look through his other sketchbooks and you admire how far he's come with his work. The drawings and paintings are more intricate, more heavy and emotional, deeper than the doodles he made in high school.

He seems proud of his work but also bashful, the paintings bare the artists soul to the world after all.

"Here."- Hyunjin gives you the sketchbook so you can look at his sketch of you.

"Oh wow, you made me so beautiful."- you say and he laughs sweetly.

"I draw what I see."- he smiles.

"Stop that."- you say embarassingly, your cheeks heating up.

"Never."- Hyunjin smirks and you shake your head at him.

"No, but really, all of your work is so beautiful. You really deserve to have it hung in a gallery so the whole world can admire it."- you say and Hyunjin's cheeks are pink as he leans towards you, his hands resting on your thighs.

"You're so sweet, you know that?"- his eyes fill with something you recognize as desire, the same look he gave you on the beach last night.

The nap you needed is long forgotten as Hyunjin starts massaging your bare thighs.

"Let's get inside."- you whisper and he smirks.

Teeth clashing and fingers digging into your skin, you clumsily make your way to the bed, kissing and bumping into furniture on the way.

Your hands slide under Hyunjin's shirt and you explore his waist and abs, fingers coming up to play with his nipples, your lips attaching to his neck. He groans, gripping at your dress as you suck on his skin, just below his ear.

"Mm, darling."- he moans and you slide his shirt up, signaling him to lift up his arms so you can take it off. You throw it somewhere on the side and push Hyunjin down on the bed.

He falls with a thud and a giggle, his face red as he looks at you like you're the sun itself.

You straddle him, leaning down to attach your lips on his skin again, worship his beautiful body as you kiss him everywhere you can reach, the sweet scent of him filling up your nose and taking over your brain.

Little grunts and moans leave Hyunjin's pink plump lips and you keep sliding lower, your fingers hooking into his pants as you kiss his abs.

He looks down at you with lust, lifting his hips off the bed and you slide his pants and boxers down, throwing them aside carelessly too.

Your hand wraps around his length, his pretty pink tip glistening with precum and you lean in and lick at it, making Hyunjin's eyes roll in the back of his head.

"B-baby..."- he whines quietly, legs spreading subtly and you smirk, wrapping your lips around him, your tongue playing with the sensitive underside.

Your hand is still wrapped around the base of his cock as you keep teasing him, moving slowly and only concentrating on his tip.

"Darling, more, please!"- Hyunjin whines, pushing his hips towards your face desperately and you oblige, gripping his hips to hold him still as you slowly slide down to take more of him.

"Mm, fuck!"- he whimpers as you start bobbing your head up and down, your hand working what doesn't fit in your mouth, your other hand fondling his balls, squeezing them gently.

Pretty moans and grunts keep spilling out of his lips as he struggles not to fuck up into your mouth harshly. You keep speeding up and trying to take as much of him as you can, you eyes watering when he almost hits the back of your throat, making you gag.

"Fuck, darling you look so pretty like that."- Hyunjin moans as you give it your all, sucking on his dick like it's the tastiest lollipop ever.

Hyunjin buzzes with arousal, legs shaking as his fingers tangle into your hair. You moan around him, sending vibrations through his cock. Hyunjin looks down at you with so much lust in his eyes that it makes you shiver.

You're almost sore but you don't wanna stop, not until you make him cum and it doesn't take Hyunjin too long to explode, his cum hitting the back of your throat, making you choke on it as you swallow as quickly as you can.

Hyunjin gasps and whimpers, his hand gripping your hair harder as you milk him dry. He shakes from oversensitivity and gently tugs at your hair.

"P-please... sensitive..."- he whines and you lift off of him, licking at your lips.

He leans on his elbows, his eyes fluttering as he shakes his head slightly.

"Let me return the favor, darling."- he says and you crawl closer to him, your lips on his, making him taste himself on your tongue.

"Can we- can we continue in the shower? I've always wanted to try that."- you say shyly, your face warm, your cunt wet and throbbing for Hyunjin.

"You're so naughty, babygirl."- Hyunjin smirks, hands wrapping around you and gripping your ass. You moan in arousal and embarassment as you accidentally grind against his thigh.

"Can we?"- you ask again.

"Ofcourse baby. Your wish is my command."- Hyunjin kisses you and you make your way to the bathroom, peeling your clothes off on the way there.

Both of you step into the shower, Hyunjin attaching his body to your back, his semi hard cock pressing into your plush ass as you fiddle with the buttons on the shower.

He gently moves your hair to one side, his lips on the back of your neck as he kisses you slowly and gently, his hands coming up to cup your breasts as he runs his fingers on your nipples.

You moan, relaxing into him as your eyes flutter closed, the warm water from the shower spraying on your legs.

Hyunjin slides one of his hands down between your legs, his fingertips finding your sensitive clit as he starts playing with it, pressing it in circling motions.

"Mm, Hyunjin please!"- you moan, leaning into his touch. He's all over you, playing your body like an instrument and you can't get enough of him, you just want more and more.

You grab his hands and turn around.

"You still wanna return the favor?"- you smirk.

"Yeah, yeah."- Hyunjin nods eagerly.

"Get on your knees."- you say and he looks surprised before he chuckles.

"Alright, I don't mind kneeling for you."- he smirks and kneels in front of you. A gush of arousal drips between your legs when you see such a pretty man looking up at you like you're everything to him and waiting eagerly to please you.

You hook your leg around him, your foot resting on his back as you bring him closer to your dripping cunt.

Hyunjin whines and buries his face into you, his tongue lapping at your sweet pussy greedily. His eyes are closed, long eyelashes fluttering, his nose massaging your clit in the right way as he buries his tongue deep inside you and fucks you with it.

"Oh my god- Hyune, ah!"- you moan, gripping his hair harshly and pushing his face further into you.

He moans and whines as he keeps moving his tongue expertly inside you, his eyes opened and staring up at you. The look in his eyes as he grips your ass makes you almost double over and you're sure you would slip and fall if he wasn't holding onto you. Your moans echo in the small space of the shower but in that moment you don't give a flying fuck about anyone hearing you. You can't help it as your hips start grinding on Hyunjin's face and his eyes flutter shut again as he lets you use him until you're almost screaming, the coil inside you snapping as you squirt on his face and lips. Hyunjin moans with you, cleaning you up with his tongue as you whimper, your legs shaking and ears ringing.

He leans back, smirking at you and you see that his dick is fully hard now again.

"So good, Hyune. So good."- you whine, grabbing at him as he slowly lifts up.

He leans his forehead on yours, his cock slotting between your hips, dragging against your wet pussy.

"I can't get enough of you."- he whispers.

"Me too. I need you, I need you inside me."- you gasp, rubbing your pussy against his heavy cock.

"I'll give it to you, babygirl."- Hyunjin smirks, eyes glazed over with lust as he grips the underside of your hips and lifts you up. You squeal and wrap your legs around his waist, the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance.

You move your hips towards his and he wastes no more time, lining up with you and pushing his cock in.

You groan, nails digging into his shoulders as he slowly pushes in until he bottoms out, his tip kissing your cervix, his cock stretching you deliciously again.

"So big."- you whine, throwing your head back and he chuckles.

"Hold onto me, darling."- he grips your ass, lifting you up slightly and then pushing you down on his cock again. You moan loudly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he keeps ramming you on his hard cock, hips fucking up into you at the same time, making your brain turn into mush.

He kisses your neck and grunts into your ear as you surrender completely, your head thrown back, eyes shut tightly, limbs completely wrapped around him, pussy stuffed with his cock.

You've gone delirious at this point and you can't even think or form coherent words, and you can see that Hyunjin's in the same state of disarray.

"Cum. Need to cum."- you whimper.

"Let go, babygirl."- he whispers into your ear and you release your juices all over his cock, making everything even more wet and slippery as you clench around him.

"Shit, ah!"- Hyunjin keeps pushing his cock harshly into you, burying himself as deep as he can and making a home inside you as he groans your name and spills his cum into you.

Both of you hold onto each other as you slowly move, riding out your high. Hyunjin's legs tremble for a second and he slowly pulls out and puts you down, his arms wrapped around you.

Your arms are wrapped around his waist, your bodies pressed together, your face buried in his neck as he caresses your head and you find comfort in his embrace and in the warmth radiating from his body and his heart.

-

You're sitting on your side of the bed, texting Nicki about some details for the bachelorette party tomorrow when Hyunjin joins you.

He slides on the bed comically, laying his head in your lap and poking at your arm to get your attention. You put your phone aside and chuckle at him.

"It's almost over."- you sigh.

"What is?"- he asks.

You put your hand in his hair and caress him gently and his eyes flutter, lips pouty.

"This wonderful dream. Soon, we have to go back to the real world."- you say wistfully.

"The good feeling doesn't have to end. We can carry it back with us."- Hyunjin smiles at you, grabbing your other hand and kissing your knuckles gently.

"You think so?"

"Mhm. Especially if... if you wanna give us a chance."- he looks at you hopefully, his cheeks rosy.

"Ofcourse I do. It's all I've wanted for years."- you smile and he chuckles in relief.

"Then we can continue dreaming together."- he sits up, hands cupping your cheeks as he kisses you lovingly, pouring his emotions from his lips to yours.

"You know, I have sketchbooks from high school that are full of drawings of you."- Hyunjin smiles bashfully as you lay down and hold each other.

"I have like 4 diaries worth of simping over you. Oof, that was so cringy!"- you cover your face in embarassment and Hyunjin laughs.

"Oh my god, that's so adorable!"- he says, pulling your hands away so he can look at you and you feel your face burning.

"Nooo, it's embarassing!"- you whine.

"You gotta show them to me."

"God, no!"

"Yes, please y/n! It's cute, we can laugh at it together!"- he pouts, batting his eyelashes at you.

"Alright, alright. You know I can't say no to that face."- you sigh and he smirks.

"Hehe, fun."- Hyunjin mocks and you roll your eyes.

"You're lucky I love you."- you say.

"Damn right I am."- he kisses you.

Between all the sweet kisses and the whispered words of love, you know this is what you were waiting for.

-

You and Hyunjin decide to wake up early the next morning so you can go to the beach before Nicki snatches you away for some girl time.

You cut up some fruit to take with you with Hyunjin hovering behind you the whole time, his hands roaming all over your body, pulling you into him.

You grab your towels and some other things you need before you skip down to the beach, holding hands.

It's pretty early when you arrive and the beach is not crowded, making it all feel more intimate as Hyunjin and you strip to your bathing suits and make your way to the water.

It all feels like a dream you don't wanna wake up from, the two of you relaxed and playful with each other, splashing around and racing each other.

You feel partly like a kid again, just enjoying the simple moments in life, that veil of wonder covering your eyes and making everything look beautiful and mystical again. And partly you feel like the luckiest woman alive when Hyunjin pulls you into his loving embrace, your heart giddy as electricity runs through you waking up every neuron inside your brain. If this is what being in love is like, and having your feelings reciprocated, you never want it to stop.

-

"Bestie, you don't understand how happy I am for you!"- Nicki squeals excitedly, throwing her arms around you and almost throwing you off balance.

You and the other girls are gathered in her suite, getting ready for her party, and you finally told her how you and Hyunjin already said 'I love you' to each other.

"You don't think it's kinda going too fast?"- you ask, biting on your lip nervously.

"God, no! You've been crazy for each other for years. It's about time you came clean with your feelings."

"I'm just worried, something that goes up fast usually crashes and burns down fast too."- you sigh.

"Don't be ridiculous. Those are years worth of feelings. You and Hyunjin were made for each other, and deep down you know that. Don't let any bad thoughts or insecurities make you believe otherwise."

"You always know what to say."- you chuckle at your friend. "But enough about me, let's get ready for your party!"- you add excitedly.

You decide to wear one of the lingerie sets you brought, lacy and almost see through, your mind already making up scenarios of Hyunjin taking it off of you. You put on a sparkly short dress that accentuates all your curves perfectly, your make up is sultry and smoky. When you finish with the final touches, you look into the mirror and feel so happy that the whole outfit looks even better on you than you've imagined.

The party is held in one of the resort's 'dance rooms', and there is so much food and alcohol around that you have no idea where to start.

It starts off with all of you taking shots and congratulating Nicki and as the night goes on, more alcohol is being poured into your glasses, there's laughter, tears and dancing as all of you celebrate Nicki's last 'free' night and the beginning of a new chapter in her relationship.

By the time you stumble back into your suite, you're a bit tipsy and not expecting Hyunjin to already be there. He peers from the kitchen as you shut the door too loudly on accident.

"Oh, Hyune. You're back already."- you make your way to him and he chuckles as he takes your hands in his.

"Are you a bit drunk, baby?"- he asks as you face plant into his chest and whine.

"Just a little bit."- you say, your voice muffled.

"Luckily for you, I just made some coffee."- he smiles and you lean back, wearing a stupid smile on your face, making him laugh.

"You're cute."- you coo at him, your palms on his cheeks, squishing them together and making his lips pop out.

"I think that's you."- he manages to say and you chuckle and kiss him.

"Drink some coffee."- he adds when you part.

The coffee is warm and just how you like it, the two of you sharing the love for the bitter taste of the dark liquid.

You end up on the couch as you sip on your coffee, some light music playing in the background as the two of you talk. Hyunjin's hand ends up on your bare thigh as he squeezes it.

"You look sexy."- he says, always so forward with his compliments and you feel arousal pool between your legs, already under his spell just from the way he looks at you and gently massages your thigh.

"Oh yeah? Are you gonna do something about that?"- you smirk, now sobered up.

"As a matter of fact I will."- he smirks back at you, grabbing your face and crashing his lips on yours, making you whimper as he bites on your bottom lip, his tongue licking at it. You open your mouth and your tongues dance together, battling for dominance until you let him have it and moan into his mouth. The muffled sounds and the shared kisses make you both throb for each other.

But Hyunjin has other plans in his mind, no matter how much he just wants to lift up your dress and fuck you into oblivion.

He leans back, his eyes dark and narrowing at you. You gulp as he slowly kneels in front of you, the carpet giving some relief to his bare knees.

"Your feet must hurt in these."- his hand covers the top of your foot in your strappy heels.

"Actually, they do."- you nod, catching your lip between your teeth in anticipation.

"Let me."- he whispers as he starts undoing your heel. He slowly takes it off of your foot, before his hands wrap around you and he starts massaging you. You gasp, having no idea how much your feet were actually hurting until Hyunjin started pressing his fingers into them.

You relax, leaning back on the couch as he takes off your other heel, his hands kneading your feet. You've never had a man touch your feet like that but the fact that it was Hyunjin, made your head float. You throw your head back, little grunts and moans of relief leaving your lips, as you spread your legs subtly, your panties now soaking wet.

Hyunjin notices your legs opening up and your body shivering a little and he leans in, one of his hands on your thigh and the other still holding your foot. You look down at him as he leans in, leaving kisses on your inner thigh and you whimper as he keeps touching you and kissing you. Your foot reaches down to press his erection through his shorts and Hyunjin jerks his hips up, gasping in surprise.

"Y/n!"- he whines and you smirk, massaging his hard cock with your foot, moving it up and down until you feel his shorts dampen with pre cum. Hyunjin has a death grip on your thighs, his nails digging into your flesh as his eyes close, brows furrowed and lips parted. Pretty groans and whines spill from his lips as you start circling his wet head with your toes.

"Fuck!"- he grips you harder, glassy eyes looking up at you.

"I didn't know you were into feet this much."- you smirk.

"P-please don't judge me."- he whines, his hips moving up into your touch involuntarily.

"I'm not judging you, baby. I think you look so pretty right now, Hyune."- you coo at him, your hand cupping his chin and making him look up at you.

"Mm darling..."- he whimpers as you speed up. "You better stop now cause I'm gonna cum."- he licks his lips and you chuckle, pressing into his cock harder before you move your foot completely.

Hyunjin seems on edge already and you feel proud that you can make him unravel with just your foot on his clothed dick. He slides his hands to the hem of your dress and slowly rolls it up, revealing your lacy panties.

"Fuck, sweetheart."- Hyunjin chuckles darkly. Before you can even say anything, his hands hook under your thighs and he pulls you closer to his face harshly, his nose and lips pressed into your lace covered cunt immediately.

"H-Hyunjin!"- you gasp as you grip at the couch, your heart leaping out your chest for a moment. He licks over your damp panties, making them even more wet. Your legs rest on his shoulders and you tangle your hands in his hair as he grips your ass, pushing his face into you.

"M-more, please!"- you beg and Hyunjin sneaks his hands between your thighs, spreading them apart before he grips your panties and rips them apart.

"Oh my god!"- you whimper as you peer down at his lustful face.

"I'll buy you new ones."- he chuckles and dives back in, tongue lapping at your juices.

"Mm. Don't care."- you moan, gripping his hair and holding him in place. Hyunjin closes his eyes and eats you out like a man starved as your legs close around his head, pressing him between your thighs.

You're going crazy for him, grinding on his face and he lets you take control as you keep fucking his face faster, chasing your release.

Hyunjin thinks his head is gonna explode with the strength you squeeze him with as you get closer, your moans getting more high pitched, movements getting more erratic and desperate.

"Ah, ah, fuck Hyune!"- you scream out as you cum, squirting all over his face.

Hyunjin seems surprised for a second and you feel a little embarassed.

"Shit, I'm sorry! I kinda lost myself in it."- you say, your cheeks heating up.

"God y/n, don't apologize. That was the hottest fucking thing ever."- Hyunjin licks around his lips and you feel your pussy clench around nothing.

"Really?"- you ask and instead of answering, Hyunjin stands up, taking his clothes off fast before he hovers over you and starts slowly sliding your dress off.

He loves the lacy bra you wore but he doesn't want any obstacles in his way so he snaps it open and takes it off of you, tossing it aside.

He leans down to kiss you, his lips pressing hard into you, bruising and making you taste yourself on his tongue. You grab at him desperately and he slides his arms under your thighs again but this time he lifts you up like you're as light as a feather. You whine and he sits down on the couch with you on top of him.

"I want you to ride me, darling."- he smirks at you, hands on your breasts, playing with your perky nipples.

"As you wish, Hyune."- your lips tremble as you grab his painfully hard cock, he gasps and pushes up into you, his lips parting as he stares at you.

You move his tip against your wet cunt making both of you moan as you lean in to kiss him and bite his pretty plump lips. You can't wait anymore and by the twitching of his cock against you, you know he can't wait anymore either so you sink down on him slowly.

He looks down at where the two of you are connected and groans.

"You take me so well, baby."- he praises and you mewl, slowly moving your hips in circles.

"Your cock was made for me, Hyune."- you lean your forehead on his and he breathes out a shaky breath.

"Mm yes baby, only for you."- he whimpers as you grab onto his shoulders and start slowly sliding up and down on him.

Hyunjin lets you set the pace as his hands roam all over your body, mapping you out, sketching you in his mind already.

You press your chest into his and the two of you kiss as he starts slowly fucking up into you, matching your movement. You fuck on each other slowly for some time before you need more, your cunt stretching more and more to adjust his length and girth and you need him harder, deeper.

You lean back and start bouncing faster on him, fucking yourself on his hard cock as he hits you so deeply, where no one has ever reached before. Your nails dig into his shoulders, and you throw your head back as you keep rocking on him faster and faster. Hyunjin looks at you mesmerized, his cock twitching inside you and he knows he wont be able to last much longer. The way you lose yourself in pleasure, your tits bouncing as your pussy takes him in deeply, keeping him wet and warm, clenching around him in a deathly grip has him counting stars.

He grips your hips and starts fucking up into you relentlessly, hitting your sweet spot with every strong thrust. You almost scream out in pleasure as you cum hard, squirting on his cock, the pleasure spreading through your body, from your head all the way to your toes.

Hyunjin grunts and moans your name as he throbs inside you, his cock twitching as he explodes, the warm cum spurting inside you and hitting your cervix pushing you over the edge again.

You collapse into his opened arms and you hold each other tightly as you come down from your high.

"You're gonna be the death of me."- Hyunjin whispers into your hair. "I don't mind it, though."- he adds and you chuckle, still trying to get yourself together. You slowly lift off of him and feel his cum drip out of you.

Hyunjin looks down and whines, his hand coming between your legs as he gathers some of his and your cum mixed together, and then brings his fingers to your lips. Your eyes flutter as your wrap them around the tips of his fingers and lick them clean, slowly and sensually, never breaking eye contact with him. You slide down taking more of his fingers in and sucking on them.

Hyunjin bites on his lips before slowly pulling his fingers away from you.

"I think we should sleep now, if we want to be awake for the wedding tomorrow."- he chuckles at your pouty face.

"What time is it even?"- you ask.

Hyunjin looks around for his phone that's also the source of music you've completely forgotten while the two of you were intertwined with each other.

"Oh wow, it's almost 4am."- he laughs and you gasp.

"Okay, you're right, we really need to sleep."- you say and the two of you clean up and get ready for bed.

"Tomorrow's the big day."- Hyunjin mumbles as you melt into his arms.

"Mhm. And basically our last day here."- you say, pressing your lips on his neck.

"We gotta use that to our advantage."- he wiggles his eyebrows, making you giggle as you look up at him.

"Sure, we will."

"I love you."- Hyunjin whispers, lips brushing your forehead.

"I love you."

-

Immediately after breakfast the next morning, you and Hyunjin had to start getting ready for the actual wedding.

He offered to help you style your hair and you helped him with his tie.

Your hands tremble in excitement as you tie it, Hyunjin's eyes never leaving your face.

"Too tight?"- you ask and look up at him.

"No, it's perfect."- he smiles, seeing you in the beautiful dress you had on makes his heart beat wildly in his chest.

You look him up and down, the sight of him looking so freaking handsome in a suit has you folding for him.

"You look unreal."- you say and Hyunjin laughs, throwing his head back a little.

"Really? Have you seen yourself, baby?"- he asks.

"Just take my compliment, okay?"- you chuckle.

"Okay."- he shakes his head, smiling fondly.

The setting of the actual wedding on the beach is ethereal, even though there were so many people and you feel a little overwhelmed, Hyunjin is there to hold your hand.

Both of you are glued to each other, you being a little anxious and him being an introvert, and you feel like you're still in this bubble where it's just the two of you there and no one else.

Nicki looks absolutely breathtaking, the smile gracing her face is probably the happiest one you've ever seen.

You and Hyunjin stand together on her side as she exchanges vows with her soon to be husband. Ofcourse, you can't help but start crying and Hyunjin puts his arms around you, comforting you with his gentle touch and whispers of love.

"Fyi, I want a small wedding."- you say between sobs.

"Oh?"- Hyunjin chuckles and you gasp.

"Ignore that. I don't know why I said that."- your face heats up as you wipe your tears away.

"Good to know. For the future."- he smirks, leaning into you and kissing your cheek.

Everything seems absolutely perfect, the weather, the food, the music, the overall vibe feels impeccable. Especially after the first dance of the newlyweds, when the dancefloor opens for everyone else, and Hyunjin takes your hand in his leading you out to dance under the stars.

It's cliche but you feel like your feet aren't even touching the ground as you glide with your lover, it's like you're floating on air and the rest of the world doesn't exist.

"What happens when we go back?"- you ask, a sudden nervousness washing through you.

"I was hoping you'd be my girlfriend and we can continue loving each other just like this."- Hyunjin smiles, his eyes shiny.

"I love the sound of that."- you smile back at him and lean up to kiss his lips.

You hope the feeling of weightlessness with Hyunjin lasts forever.

(Hyunjin accidentally catches the bouquet later on and everyone teases you that you're next.)

Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

Crying bc that could never be me bc I never really had close guy friends when I was young please write a one shot or something of childhood friends y/n and Katsuki of Katsuki being immune to cooties and bringing these tendencies to UA together 😭

eeeee i was secretly hoping someone would ask me to talk about this more tehhehehe here you go ! I didn’t rlly get what you meant with him carrying the cootie thing to high school so i wrote this around your ask a lil, hope you don't mind ! i tried honoring your request as best i can, hope you enjoy !

fem reader, polar opposite’s trope except not POLAR opposite’s cus yn is a little shit on the low, mitsuki favoritism lol, mitsuki and katsuki arguing n bein sassy, katsuki gets embarrassed, mitsuki is mischievous, katsuki calling his mother old, yn calls mitsuki ‘miss’, pure fluff honestly, say it with me CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS TROPE WOHOOOO, mentions of making out n kissing, established relationship, cooties lol, lemme know if i missed sum else <3 !!

katsuki wants to do one of three things right now : dissapear, sink into the floor or die—and the more he hears his old hag babbling on and on to you with a familiar photo album in her lap, the more he's starting to find the all three options tempting.

" oh look, this was at you guys' kindergarten graduation ! you were both soooo small, do you remember that ?! "

he hears his mom gush from the other bigger living room couch she's sitting on with you. it's been 15 minutes since you had come over to his house and the plan was for you guys to hang out, watch a movie and get a make out session in before you leave or preferably have you sleep over.

that was the plan, until his old hag came and fucked it up.

15 minutes since she'd dragged you over to the couch and talked your ear off about whatever the fuck moms talk about and you, being the sweetheart that you are, listened patiently the whole time, chatting and giggling out jokes easily. katsuki really, really doesn't know how you do it but he sure as hell respects you for it.

you'd always insisted on being polite with his mom, something about staying in her good graces after you guys had started dating. katsuki thinks that's extremely stupid because his mom has loved you since that day in elementary school when he'd dragged you over to her, his little hand gripping yours tightly and proudly exclaiming you were the one he was gonna marry. you were sweeter and calmer than he was by far and she was immediatly enamoured with you. katsuki's damn near sure she loves you more than she loves him. that in itself isn't the problem. the problem was that she's been hogging you ever since you walked in the door.

usually, katsuki's fast enough to drag you up to his room before she can get her claws in you, but he wasn't fast enough today and that's how he ended up in his current predicament.

" and this one when you came over for christmas—oh, katsuki begged me to let you stay over, you know ? you cannot believe how loud he can get when he doesn't get his way, started rolling around on the floor n' everything ! "

katsuki feels his ears redden the more he listens to this conversation and he wishes so bad for you guys to just fucking go. he could go to his room and avoid this entire conversation in theory, but he'd rather avoid his mom telling you some other embarrassing stories that you absolutely do not need to know about, so he concedes and tries his best to drown the conversation out, scrolling on his phone.

"ou, i have an adorable picture of katsuki in the bath let me find—"

" DON'T FUCKIN’ SHOW HER THAT, HAG ?! " katsuki shrieks, startling you, his mom looks surprised for no more than a milisecond before shooting him a nasty glare unphased by her son's outburst. "what's got you pipin' up now, brat ?" she asks unimpressed.

katsuki practically zooms over and snatches the album away from his mother's grip, shooting her a glare identical to her own. " i'm gonna burn this in your sleep one of these days, i swear. " he grumbles, trudging off to put the album back on one of the shelves of his living room and ignoring his mom wishing him good luck with that. katsuki feels like he's lost a battle when he hears you giggle quietly when he turns away, no doubt his mother had said something about how he was embarrassed to have you see his baby pictures. he vows to get revenge and thinks the best way to start is by throwing this cursed collection of pictures on an open fire. he decides to just put it back on the shelf for now.

“ what a spoilsport, am i right ?” mitsuki nudges you with her shoulder and you giggle at what katsuki personally finds a horrible joke. to each their own though, or whatever.

katsuki scoffs to himself. he makes his way back to the couch and stands in front of you both, arms crossed.

“you done hoggin’ my girlfriend now or are you gonna keep yappin’ some more ?” mitsuki scoffs at her son’s words, wrapping her arms around your frame and pulling you against her tightly when she sees katsuki’s hand creeping towards you, assuming he'd try to pull you away.

“ i’m sure you can be patient for a little longer, as hard as i know it is for you.” you hear katsuki scoff out an insult under his breath, mitsuki pays it no mind. “besides, yn has been enjoyin’ our conversation so far, haven’t ya sweetie ?” she asks. you, again, being the sweet thing that you are, happily nod with a smile. mitsuki looks up at her son with a smug look, her expression screams “see ?”.

“ she’s only agreein’ cus yer fuckin’ holdin’ her hostage.” katsuki grumbles. he feels his patience dwindling at a pace that should definitely be alarming. he looks at you and feels his heart flutter when you offer him an apologetic smile. his patience returns the slightest bit.

“hostage ? don’t be ridiculous katsuki—” then it’s as if a lightbulb goes off, katsuki can practically see it gleaming above her head and he really doesn’t like it.

“he’s always been like that y’know ? all clingy—you remember that right ?!”the excitement in her voice becomes more prominent when she sees you nod enthusiastically. katsuki has a strange, foreboding feeling about this.

“ i remember he’d constantly want you around holdin’ his hand everywhere. one time—" she pauses as she bursts into giggles that, to katsuki, sound more like witch cackles than anything.

“one time you refused to hold his hand because you got scared he’d get cooties” she chuckles. katsuki feels his stomach drop.

“but he said that wouldn’t happen because he was too strong to get them !”

fuck patience.

katsuki grabs you and stalks off so fast you feel like you’re floating a little bit. he quickly yells out a “we’re goin’ to my room, don’t fuckin’ bother us !” then he’s quickly running up the stairs with you in tow. it’s only when you get to the hallway that leads to his bedroom that he looks back at you. he rolls his eyes when he sees you clearly fighting back a laugh.

“be quiet.”

“i didn’t even say anything yet !” you defend, giggling at the same time. katsuki fights back a smile at the sound.

“yeah, but you were going to and i don’t wanna hear it.” he bites. he squeezes your hand afterwards, telling you it was a joke in his own way. in actuality, katsuki could listen to you talk for hours and hours, days on end without getting bored. you’re being a brat right now though, so he won’t tell you that.

you smile at his back as katsuki drags you along muttering to himself about how he “never should’ve left you with that old witch for so long.”

“i remember that, y’know ? the cootie thing.” you admit jokingly. walking up a little faster you catch up to him and walk side by side. he glances at you from the corner of his eye then looks away and scoffs “of course you do.” he groans.

“ you’re mom didn’t mean to embarrass you, i’m sure.” you try to console him despite still snickering at the memory of his face going beet red after his mom had ‘exposed’ him. “and it was nice to see those pictures. it felt all...nostalgic.” you reminisce about the summer days you’d spent over the years with your katsuki with a smile. remembering the days of adventures and melting ice cream. of waterparks and bandaged covered knees.

katsuki doesn’t make a sound next to you and you think he’s just ignoring you until he speaks again, the scowl on his face threatens to melt away. “that old bat had it out for me the entire time. she’s fuckin’ evil incarnate, just doesn’t show it to you.” he feels prideful when he hears you laugh “that’s mean !” you scold through giggles, but his smirk says he’s seen through you. he comes to a stop and backs you up until your back is against the wall.

“yer laughin’ though. not as much of an angel as you’re pretending to be, are ya ?” he teases, leaning in closer to you until your noses brush. you try to fight back the smile that pulls at your mouth but it doesn’t work and after a moment you’re giggling again. katsuki swears every time you laugh an angel gets its wings. he steals a sloppy kiss to hear the sound again.

your hands play with the hem of his plain black shirt. he’s handsome, too handsome. his outfit consisted of a plain black t-shirt and some sweatpants yet he still looks like a model and it makes you want to kiss him silly, call it revenge for looking so good.

“ i’m not pretending to be anything, definitely not an angel.” you chuckle “unlike you, i’m just being nice.” you stick your tongue at him and he chuckles. rolling his eyes, he scoffs. his warm hands reflexively start running up and down your waist.

“yeah well, that’s cus unlike me your ass gets to go home. you’d be less nice if you were stuck in here like i am.” you playfully roll your eyes at his dramatics

“i doubt that. besides, miss mitsuki likes me !”

“she’ll get mad at you for callin’ her miss again.” you gasp, quickly clasping your hand over your mouth as if his mom would hear you from here. katsuki’s snort makes you snort as well.

“c’mon” he urges after a minute, grabbing at your hand and tugging at it “we’re goin’ to my room.” he mumbles out a “fuckin’ finally” and you laugh.

then you get an idea.

you suddenly rip your hand from his and katsuki immediately stops dead in his tracks to stare back at you like you had just insulted him. you let out a tiny snort at his expression.

“the hell are you doin’ ?”

you clasp your hands behind your back and sigh, even looking down at the floor sadly for extra dramatic effect “we can’t risk it, suki.”

“hah ?” katsuki fully turns to you, slowly starting to grow worried at your sudden shift in attitude. “what’re you talking about ?”

“i mean..if we hold hands..” you slowly look up at him, revealing your shit eating grin “you might get cooties..”

katsuki looks at you for about 15 seconds with an incredulous look on his face and you burst out laughing. he’s definitely one of the most expressive people you’d ever met, so seeing what kind of faces he’ll makes next is always fun.

he walks over, grabs your hand and squeezes hard, as punishment you assume. you yelp through giggles.

you hear him let out a disappointment sigh when he turns his back to you and drags you to his room again. you happily follow along behind him like you’d done for years now.

"i really shouldn't have left you with that old hag for so long." he mutters bitterly. you let out a snort and smile to yourself, content that your plan to mess with your boyfriend ended up being succesful. you perk up when he suddenly huffs out a laugh.

" and anyways, i won't be gettin' any cooties. m'too cool for 'em." you laugh out loud and the way he grips your hand a little tighter tells you you don't need to see his face to know he's proud of that.

"what if i have them ?" you challenge in between snickers.

katsuki scoffs dissaprovingly, you can basically see him rolling his eyes despite his back being to you.

"you don't. only losers get cooties. and as far as i know, you're not a loser." he's a little embarrassed because this is reminding him too much of when you were kids and it makes him cringe. when he'd come up with excuses like him being 'too strong' or 'too cool' to get cooties because he just couldn't admit he simply wanted you close. "yer anythin' but." you hear him mumble.

you walk up next to him with a somewhat shy smile "i'm flattered you think of me that way." you confess.

"don't let it get to your head." katsuki quips. you respond by sticking your tongue at him again. he tries to ignore the loud thumping of his heart but it's not going too smoothly for him. his cheeks slowly redden and he looks away from you again, not before shooting you an eyeroll.

"hope you know you owe me extra cuddle time for wastin' it talkin' to my ma." katsuki adds, changing the subject. you smile up at him in response and offer him a sweet 'mhm !'

his mom may have embarrassed the shit out of him, but he figures it wasn't all bad. he's still deadset on destroying that photo album before she ends up showing you that picture of him in the bath, though. he'll think about a plan later but right now he plans to enjoy his cuddle time with you, cootie free.

[whimsiwitchy]

he's hooked (oneshot)

hugh jackman x actress!reader

summary: y/n is an actress in her early 20’s. after having the best night of her career, Hugh Jackman introduces himself. the two stars hook up in the venue's bathroom and for y/n it was nothing but a one night stand. However, Hugh becomes obsessed and can’t let her go so easily.

warnings: use of y/n, she/her pronouns, age gap (22/55), smut, protected vaginal penetration, dirty talk, reader is kinda cocky, hugh is very persistent, reader mentions age gap a lot, oral (f receiving), one use of daddy (in a playful way), bathroom sex.

authors note: y'all I am trying my absolute best to write smut. this is my second attempt and while i'm not super proud of it, I am proud of myself for trying. practice makes perfect I guess lol. anyways, I hope you enjoy. (sorry if it sucks butt) love y'all <33

 Tonight felt like a dream. It was the 97th Academy Awards and you had won your first Oscar for best actress. When your name was called, you were completely shocked. The category was filled with nominees that you had looked up to your entire life and you genuinely thought you had no shot of winning. You were completely honored to win such an award so early into your career. After the ceremony was over, most of the attendees made their way over to the Oscars Governors Ball, which was one of the few after parties that are held annually after the event. It felt surreal to be in a place full of Hollywood's biggest names and it was even crazier that you were now one of them. You were currently sitting at the bar waiting for a drink when a deep accented voice spoke. “Congratulations on your big win tonight. You deserve it.” When you look over to see who was speaking, you’re met with a very handsome Hugh Jackman. “Oh thank you. Congrats to you too, best actor.” Your tone is teasing yet sincere. “I’m Hugh.” He offers his hand to shake, which you take. “I know who you are, Mr.Jackman. I’m y/n.” You shake his hand firmly, letting it go right after. “I know who you are, Ms. y/l/n.” He joked back and you let out a small laugh. You look forward as the bartender sits your drink in front of you and you give him a quick thank you. From the corner of your eye, you can see Hugh’s eyes trail your body. “Did you just check me out?” You turn your head to face him. “It’s hard not to when you look that good.” Hugh says without missing a beat. “Aren’t you married? I don’t think your wife would appreciate you hitting on a twenty two year old.” You give him an accusing look. He lifts his left hand, showing off his bare ring finger. “I'm divorced, babe.” You almost miss the smirk that rests on his bearded face. 

“Hm. Well in that case, there are plenty of beautiful women here your own age here that would happily go home with you tonight. Maybe you should flirt with them.” You turn back to your drink, taking a long sip through the skinny straw. “None of them are as pretty as you. You’re the most gorgeous woman here by far.” You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Bye Hugh Jackman. It was nice meeting you.” You slowly climb down the tall ball stool and grab your drink. Before you can walk off, Hugh calls your name, causing you to turn back towards him. “I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime.” He smiles and you’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t make your heartbeat stutter. “You know that Real Steel was my favorite movie when I was like eleven. Does that make my age more apparent to you or do you not care?” He furrows his brows, pretending to think for a moment. “Hm. I don’t think I care very much.” You laugh, dropping your head. “You’re unbelievable.” He smiles. “So is that a yes?” “No.” You smile and walk away. 

—

Your friend Kayleigh was ranting to you about a technical issue that happened during her performance earlier in the night and you were trying your best to pay attention. Sometime in between the chat you had with Hugh and now, he had removed the black suit jacket he had on. The sleeves of his white button up dress shirt were rolled up, showing off his large forearms, his biceps peaking out slightly. It was overly distracting. “Girl what the fuck are you staring at?” She moves her head around trying to match your staring gaze. “Y/n please don’t tell me you're staring at that old man right now.” You give her a sheepish look. “God, straight people are so fucking weird.” She sighs. “It’s not weird. He’s kinda hot.” You admit. “Whatever you say. Why don’t you just go talk to him? I’m almost positive he’d fuck you if you ask.” You look back over to where Hugh is talking to some older woman, just like you had suggested. “I kinda already turned him down. Well, not for sex. He asked me to dinner.” Her face scrunches up. “Ew. He’s like older than your parents.” You laugh. “Is it bad that I find that hot?” She nods. “Yes y/n. That’s like really fucking weird dude.” You ignore her. “Should I go try to get him to fuck me?” You ask, genuinely wanting her opinion. “If that’s really what you’re into these days, go for it. I’m highly disgusted by you right now though.” You stand up and grab the small clutch you had with you. “Eh. You’ll get over it. You’ll be okay on your own for a little bit?” She gives you a thumbs up and you make your way over to Hugh and the woman he was speaking to. 

“Hi, sorry to interrupt.” You apologize and turn to Hugh. “Could I talk to you alone for a moment?” He looks confused and completely caught off guard. “Uh, yea.” He turns to the woman. “It was nice to catch up with you.” She says something back that you don’t catch, too busy staring at the vein that is basically jumping out of Hugh’s arm. “You wanted to talk to me?” His words bring you out of your thirsting trance. “Follow me.” You grab his hand, dragging him through a door and into a hallway. “Where are we going?” He asks, taken aback by your lack of plan. “I’m not sure.” You say as you continue to drag him. “Y/n slow down, we can talk here. There’s no one out here.” He stops walking and it makes you tumble back, his grip on your hand stopping you from continuing forward. “We need somewhere private.” His confused expression only deepens. “I don’t know how much more private this can get darling. If it’s really that much of a secret, we can stop talking if someone comes by.” He offers and you huff. “I don’t actually wanna talk Hugh.” 

“You’re confusing me here darling.” You wiggle your hand out of his and raise it to your head in frustration. “I want you to fuck me.” You look at him and his eyes go wide. “I’m sorry…what?” “If you don’t want to, that's fine, we can go back.” Your confidence began to falter. “Wait, that’s not what I'm saying.” 

“So you want to fuck me?” He takes a moment to think before answering.

“Yes.” 

“Then help me find somewhere private.” The two of you make your way down the never ending hallway, checking every door you see. Hugh opens a door and closes it, making his way down the hallway. Seeing as it was the only door that opened so far, you went to check it yourself and saw that it was an empty bathroom. “Why’d you keep going, this is perfect.” You shout at him. “I’m not fucking you in a bathroom.” He looks at you like that was obvious. “Well it’s not like we have any other options. Come on.” You go inside and wait for him. Once he’s inside you motion to the door. “Lock it.” You tell him. “We’re really doing this?” He asks, confirming. “Unless you don’t want to.” He takes a pause before speaking again. “Get your pretty ass over here.” He growls. 

You walk over to him slowly. He pulls you close to him once you’re in arms reach and you look up at him through your lashes. “Too damn sexy for your own good.” He whispers before leaning down and locking his lips with yours. The feeling of his beard against your skin was addicting. The kiss was slow at first, both of you testing the waters with each other. It was you who begged to enter his mouth, tongue sliding against his lips. You didn’t want to come off so desperate but you needed more from him. His large hands slid down to your ass, giving it a tight squeeze that has you gasping. His tongue dives into your mouth, exploring every crevice. It’s messy but it’s hot. “Jump.” He commands and you listen. His hands grab the back side of your thighs and he walks you over to the counter, sitting you down inbetween two of the sinks. His lips are back on yours the moment your body touches the cold surface. 

“You sure you want to do this baby?” He asks. “Positive.” You breathe out. Hugh bends down, sitting on both of his knees. Grabbing your ankle, he gives kisses to the skin that your heel doesn’t cover. He moves upward, leaving long sensual kisses up your calf and thigh, raising the end of your dress as he goes. As simple as the gesture was, it felt erotic, never having a man take this kind of care with you before. His lips move higher, curving with your leg until he’s hovering above your pussy. “You’re wet already baby?” His voice is cocky and if it weren’t for the heat of his breath making your mind foggy, you would’ve called him out on it. He gives the wet spot on your panties a shy kiss. The act has you letting out a quiet moan, sounding louder from the echo of the bathroom. He slips a finger behind the cotton of your underwear and tugs at it while looking up at you. “Can I take these off?” He asks, finger still tugging the fabric dangerously close to where you need him the most. “Yes.” It’s breathy but it gets the job done because Hugh moves his head up, grabbing the top of the fabric with his teeth. He starts to tug your panties down, using one of his hands to help the other side. You lift your body slightly as Hugh pulls them down farther. When they’re all the way off, Hugh sits back with your panties hanging from the big toothy smile he's wearing. The sight was definitely going to be what you pictured the next time you touched yourself. 

“Oh fuck me..” He grabs your panties from his teeth and slides them into his back pocket. “Mhm. not yet, baby. Wanna eat your pretty pussy first.” He leans back in between your legs, lips ghosting over your heat. “So perfect.” He whispers as he kisses each pussy lip three times before finally kissing your clit. “Mhmm, please Hugh.” His tongue slides from your opening to your bud teasingly slow. You can feel his beard scratching the sensitive skin but it only adds to the pleasure. He swirls his tongue around your clit a few times before sucking it into his lips, the feeling causes you to jerk your hips. His hands, that were gently holding your ankles, moved up to hold your hips down. His mouth moves down to your opening, tongue plunging in and out a few times before moving back up to your clit. You hadn’t even noticed that one of his hands moved from your hip until you felt one of his fingers dip into you slowly. He curls the finger and moves it back and forth at an unexpectedly fast pace. Before you can adjust to it, he’s adding another finger and it all becomes too much. “Fuck..I’m gonna cum.” Your words are mixed with moans. He doesn't let up, his tongue and fingers speeding up and it has you cumming hard around his fingers, loud moans feel the air. He gives your pussy one last kiss before leaning back and removing his fingers. When you can fully see his face, it is a sight to see. His salt and pepper beard is covered in your slick, lips glossy. 

“Want you to see how good you taste darling.” He says while moving his two fingers to your lips. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, taking his fingers in your mouth slowly. Hugh hisses as you suck around his fingers, tongue swirling around each one.  Once you're confident that they’re clean, you grab his wrist and take his fingers out of your mouth with a pop. “You still gonna fuck me old man or did you already cum in your pants?” You joke with him. He stands up, both knees popping in the process. Just as you're about to laugh and make fun of him some more, he grabs you off of the counter to stand you up. He turns you around and bends you over the counter. “You keep talking like you weren’t the one staring at me for an hour before asking me to fuck you.” He goes to undo his belt buckle and you shiver at the sound. You're looking back at him through the mirror. “Whatever.” You reach over to your clutch and open it, grabbing a condom. You reach back and hold it back to Hugh. “Here, put this on.” He grabs it with a questioning look. “Why were you carrying condoms?” You roll your eyes and rest your head in your hands, elbows propped up. “Can you mind your business and fuck me already. I’m getting bored.” You were lying right through your teeth. You were far from bored but you wanted to keep the whole ‘hard to get’ game going a little longer.

You watch him open the condom and see his arms move as he rolls it down his cock. As bad as you wished you could see him fully but it was kind of exciting- not knowing what you were about to get. “How do you want me baby?” He asks, looking at you through the mirror. You get a small glimpse of his dick as he slaps it across your ass. “Give me all you got daddy.” He smirks and shakes his head at the name. He lines up his member with your entrance and slides in slowly. Once he’s bottomed out, he doesn’t wait long before he’s slamming back into you. The stretch stings slightly and you hadn’t expected him to be so big. He slaps your ass hard and you yelp in response. You drop your head down at the pleasure. “Nuh uh. Look at me while I fuck you baby.” You raise your head to look at Hugh through the mirror again. “That’s it. Look at how pretty you look getting fucked by an old man.” You couldn’t help but listen to him. Hugh was fucking you dumb and you couldn’t think straight. His balls hitting your clit was what sent you over the edge for a second time. “Please don’t stop Hugh mhmmm fuck baby. I’m cumming, please don’t stop, baby.” Your moans match the rhythm of his hips, each thrust knocking the air out of you with its force. “Just like that sweet girl. Fuck not gonna last much longer.” Even after your high, the pleasure continues as Hugh chases his own. You push your hips back, meeting his thrust. The act makes Hugh moan. “Mhm, I'm gonna cum baby.” His hands squeeze your hips, thrusts getting sloppy as he cums. 

The two of you stay quiet as you both freshen up and try to make it less noticeable that you two left to have sex. You push yourself up onto the counter, sitting lazily as you watch Hugh toss his hair around. “Can you kiss me again?” You ask Hugh. He smiles and walks over to stand in between your legs. He grabs your cheeks and kisses you. “Mhm. You're a good kisser.” The compliment is sincere. You could kiss his lips for hours if he’d let you. He hums. “So, are you gonna let me take you out now?” You look in his eyes and smile. “Hugh we can’t. This was fun and it was good sex but that’s all it was.” “Why can’t we?” He’s quick with his words. “It’s just not practical Hugh. I think you're handsome and you seem like a sweet guy but I'm too young for you. The press would tear us apart quicker than we got together.” You explain. “Fuck the press. Let me take you out and get to know you at least.” You sigh. “I’m sorry Hugh. I can’t.” You offer him a small smile. “I’m not gonna stop trying. You’re too good to lose.” He kisses your cheek. “I should get back out there. I have a friend waiting for me.” He steps back, letting you hop down from the counter. “Bye Hugh Jackman.” You give him a small peck on the lips before leaving the bathroom. 

— 

A few weeks later, you were on set for the newest film you were working on. You’d just arrived an hour earlier and were sent to your trailer to get ready for the first scene. When you walked through the door, you were greeted with a bouquet of wildflowers and a note that read:

I can’t stop thinking about you. -H.J (xxx) xxx-xxxx

tag list: @prettycoolgirl, @nonamevenus, @godlypresley, @pedroscurls, @evasmlp, @bluetimeombre, @sue8724, @princessanglophile, @kellyxo1, @ccmoonshine, @hughverine, @chronicallybubbly, @realhotgirlshitah, @aurlavr, @almosthumongousfunsblog, @wolviesgirl, @flirtyjen, @lilgrinchbitch, @majesticalcocoa, @liamdasimp, @needz1nk, @squishyfruitloop, @afra-ww, @veru-boom

[novaursa]

What about one where the small folk of winterfell and the people of the castle make friendly, suggestive gossip from giggly women and knowing men about cregan and targ!reader. Their lord and lady are close with one another and it is often talked about and seen that they frequent the bed chamber (if yk what I mean 👀)

the folk of Winterfell feel at ease knowing their lord and lady seem to be in love, similar to the honeymoon period and young love.

You don’t have to use this quote i came up with, but it inspired me to ask for this idea “I’m sure our new lady will provide both Winterfell and our Lord with many Stark children. They are certainly not opposed to practicing their duty”

— 🐠

Winterfell's Warmth

- Summary: Cregan takes you to be his wife, a fire to his ice. And it's not long until smallfolk notice just how much Lord Stark is devoted to his Targaryen bride. 

- Paring: targ!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: This entire scene is from the perspective of the smallfolk.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

- A/N: This is the last request that I'll be posting today.

Winterfell bustles with the hum of daily life, as it always does—iron clanging in the forges, boots scuffing over the ancient stones, and the soft murmurs of the smallfolk as they go about their duties. But today, there's a special kind of lightness in the air, a sense of warmth despite the looming chill that clings to the North. The hearths burn brighter, and even the winds seem to whisper with a mischievous grin.

The reason for this subtle shift? You, Y/N, the new Lady of Winterfell, and your lord husband, Cregan Stark. Since your arrival, the inhabitants of the castle have grown accustomed to your frequent disappearances with their lord—disappearances that always lead back to your shared bedchamber. The smallfolk know, of course, as do the courtiers. They know very well what goes on behind those thick stone walls, and the knowledge brings them no small amount of amusement. 

In the courtyard, a group of washerwomen gossip while scrubbing linens in the cold, frothy water of a trough. Their fingers are red from the chill, but their spirits remain high.

“Have you heard?” one of them, a round-faced woman named Ellyn, leans in, lowering her voice despite the fact that no one important is nearby. “Our lady was seen entering the lord’s chambers again this morning, not long after the first bell rang.”

A younger girl, barely past sixteen, giggles and covers her mouth. “She didn’t leave until just before the midday meal yesterday, either!”

Another woman, older and seasoned from years of service, cocks an eyebrow but smiles knowingly. “Winterfell hasn’t been this alive since…well, since Lord Cregan’s own parents. I’d wager the bedchambers have seen more use in the past fortnight than in the last decade combined.”

The women burst into laughter, their voices carrying through the open courtyard. Ellyn smirks, leaning in even closer. “I’m sure our new lady will provide both Winterfell and our Lord with many Stark children. They are certainly not opposed to practicing their duty.”

The young girl flushes a little but can’t help but join in the giggling. "It's true, isn't it? They’ve only been married a moon’s turn, and yet I’ve never seen a man so... devoted to his wife."

“Well,” the older woman says with a playful shrug, “the Starks may be wolves, but it seems our Lord’s heart is well and truly claimed by a dragon.”

Across the courtyard, a pair of stable boys are equally enthralled with the ongoing rumors. One of them, tall and lanky, leans against the stall door, shaking his head.

"I swear by the old gods, I’ve never seen Lord Stark smile so much," the boy says, eyes wide with the incredulity of it all. "He used to be all serious, always about duty, honor, the needs of Winterfell. But now? Every time I see him, he’s got that daft look on his face, like he’s already back in the Lady’s arms."

The other stable boy, shorter and stockier, chuckles. "Aye, I noticed that too. You'd think a man so cold in demeanor wouldn’t be so… warm in his private affairs." He glances around, as if Lord Cregan himself might be lurking behind a pillar. "But gods, can you blame him? Our lady is like a flame. She’s got the blood of dragons in her veins, and it’s like he can’t resist her."

The tall boy laughs loudly. "Well, Winterfell is colder than the South, and a bit of fire in his bed can’t hurt, can it?"

Their laughter echoes through the stables, joining the chorus of quiet gossip that fills the castle.

In the kitchens, the cooks are no less entertained. An older man, grizzled and stern-faced, chops onions with a practiced hand. "It's a good thing they’re so taken with each other," he grumbles to a nearby scullery maid. "Winterfell needs strong heirs, and soon. Better they start early."

The maid, a cheerful woman with flushed cheeks from the heat of the ovens, snickers. "Aye, I doubt that'll be a problem. They’re always together, locked away for hours. If they keep at it, we’ll have a new little Stark running about before winter comes."

"I’ve heard they’re inseparable," another cook chimes in, stirring a pot of stew. "Lord Cregan hardly lets her out of his sight. It’s almost sweet, really."

"Sweet?" the old man scoffs, though there’s no real bite in his voice. "It’s practical, is what it is. They’re doing their duty, ensuring the Stark line continues. But," he adds with a chuckle, "it doesn’t hurt that they seem to enjoy it so much."

The scullery maid laughs. "Oh, they more than enjoy it! I was passing by their chamber the other night, and, well…" She lets the sentence hang, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let’s just say, they were not quiet."

The group erupts into laughter, and even the old man can’t suppress a grin.

And so it goes throughout Winterfell. From the servants who clean your chambers to the guards posted outside the great hall, everyone in the castle is aware of the affection that flows so freely between you and Cregan. Even in the great hall during the evening feasts, there are stolen glances and soft touches between you, enough for the smallfolk to notice.

At one such feast, a group of bannermen seated at a lower table murmur amongst themselves, casting knowing looks up at the high table where you sit beside your husband. Lord Cregan’s hand rests casually on your thigh beneath the table, his thumb tracing circles through the fabric of your gown. You lean toward him, whispering something that makes him laugh softly—a sound rare enough in these halls that it turns heads.

One of the bannermen, a grizzled old warrior with silver streaking his beard, nudges the man beside him. "See how he looks at her? Like she’s the only thing in the world that matters."

The younger man nods. "Aye, I’ve noticed. Seems our Lord is well and truly smitten."

"Better that than cold and distant, I say," the older man replies. "Winterfell’s seen enough hardship. It’s good for the people to know their Lord is happy. And with the lady he’s taken to bed, I’d say we’ll be seeing Stark children sooner rather than later."

The younger man grins. "Aye, and they’re certainly not opposed to practicing their duty."

As laughter ripples through the hall, you catch Cregan’s gaze, and in that moment, the world seems to fade away. His eyes, as grey as the Northern skies, are filled with a warmth reserved only for you. And though you are surrounded by the murmurs and laughter of your people, all you feel is the pull of his love, binding you to him as surely as the ancient stones of Winterfell bind the North.

The smallfolk can whisper all they like. Let them. Winterfell is at ease, and your love for Cregan is as fierce and unyielding as the North itself.

[lnfours]

* ✰. — the meet cute | l.n

summary: you never thought your best friends wedding would be where you’d find the love of your life or the first part to ‘the mini valentine’s day playlist’

warnings: a meet cute!! best man!lando x moh!reader, a wedding between p and max f, pining, fluff, language, drinking, if you listen closely you can hear me sobbing in the distance

masterlist | next part | listen to the soundtrack

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

the wedding venue was packed, people seated and excitedly chatting about the soon to be mr and mrs fewtrell.

you were pietra’s best friend, automatically promoting you to maid of honor when max had finally popped the big question. you were happy for her, excited to be apart of her big day with her, cheering her on just like you always had.

you peeked out into the crowd, puffing air out of your cheeks nervously. sure, you didn’t really have much to be nervous about, it’s not like you had to worry about messing up a speech or something grand like that. all you had to worry about was not tripping over the hem of your dress, of your own feet.

a presence pulled you from your thoughts, turning your head to look at the man who had joined next to you. you smiled softly at his tight lipped smile, thankful to see a familiar face.

“hey,” he said, british accent ringing through your ears, “we’re staring soon, you okay?”

you nodded, shaking your head and pushing the nerves down, “yeah, no, i’m good.”

you and lando hadn’t known each other before this week. of course you knew enough about max to know that him and lando were best friends, practically conjoined at the hip, but after all this time your paths never crossed. there was always something standing in the way of pietra and max introducing you to each other, despite knowing endless stories about the other.

however, the way you two had grown so close this past week you would’ve thought you’d been friends for years. it was an instant connection, an instant gravitation towards the other upon introduction. you couldn’t put a finger on it, but it was almost like he was as addictive as your favorite song. the kind you could listen to on repeat over and over again and never get sick of it.

“you sure?” he asked, eyes searching yours. you nodded back at him, smiling softly again. he didn’t bother pushing it further, but instead offered you his arm, “lets watch our best friends get married.”

you laughed softly, joining his arm with yours as he led you through the hallway and back to where the lineup was forming. you stood at the back with lando, arms linked still as the wedding music started. you felt those butterflies start to come back, gently squeezing onto his bicep.

he looked down at you and leaned his head towards your ear, “you’ve got this.”

you looked up into those stupidly gorgeous green eyes, brown curls perfectly styled. he looked good in a tux and he looked good in the hoodies he had been sporting at rehearsals too. you were pretty sure he could pull off just about anything, which was kind of unfair.

the doors opened and you and lando were face to face with the crowd. you smiled at the familiar faces, looking towards the cameras and phones before turning your head back to him. to your surprise, he was already looking at you. taking in everything about you, studying the side of your face like he was going to be quizzed on it later on in the night.

he had walked you over to the other bridesmaids before the music changed and the doors opened to reveal pietra in her dress. everyone stood, smiling and wiping away a few tears as she joined hands with max who had wiped his eyes on the shoulder of his suit.

lando met your eyes as the preacher spoke, the both of you smiling before you tilted your head down. the energy in the room made it impossible not to smile, not to be happy. plus, with the added feelings that sparked at every little touch and glance you and him stole, it was a wonder your cheeks weren’t hurting yet.

it was finally time for the reception, taking care of more ceremonial events before everyone intermingled. you had made your way to the bar, ordering a drink. you heard your name, looking over to see p and your group of friends waving you over. drink in hand, you wandered over to the girls who were begging to know just about everything.

“please tell me you and lando have a thing going on,” madison, the taller brunette, sighed, “if not, you need to.”

“no seriously,” chloe, the shorter, tanner, blonde said, “you two were making heart eyes at each other the whole time!”

pietra laughed, looking over at you, “i knew i should’ve rigged the bouquet toss for your favor.”

you rolled your eyes, “for one, we weren’t making heart eyes at each other. is he cute? one hundred percent, but i don’t know-“

“oh c’mon,” madison laughed, “you’ve gotta admit you want it just as much as he does.”

“how do you even know he wants it?”

“because he’s been staring at you all night,” pietra smiled, looking over at lando as he talked with max and his family, laughing before he felt eyes on him and his eyes met yours once again. he smiled, turning to say something to max before he took his friend took his glass. you whipped back around to the girls, just to find that they had disappeared, leaving you to have your moment with him.

he smiled, hands in his pockets as you turned back around to see him.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“no,” you waved him off, “the girls were just right here, and they disappeared.”

he looked around with you, “think they went over to the dance floor.”

you nodded, “makes sense,”

“ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom would like to invite you to join them on the dance floor for a slow song.”

you watched as couples joined hands, smiling and laughing as you spotted max and pietra swaying back and forth. her head on his chest as they danced, a smile on his face as his head rested on hers. completely in love.

lando looked over at you, clearing his throat softly, “did you wanna dance?”

you looked back at him, “you wanna dance?”

“well, they did invite us out onto the dance floor.”

“i don’t know,” you mumbled, “i’m not a very good dancer-“

he rolled his eyes with a chuckle and grabbed your glass from your hand. you sighed in defeat, watching him put it on the table as he grabbed onto your hand.

“you’re dancing, c’mon.”

“i have two left feet.”

“i think you’re just overthinking it.”

he had you there. you didn’t want to not dance with him, in fact there was nothing else you’d rather do. but the thought of his hands on you, it sent fire through your body and it made it impossible to think straight.

he took your waist into his hands, your arms wrapping around his neck. you looked down at your feet before your gaze was adverted as he lifted your head back up with a finger under your chin.

“don’t look at your feet, just sway,” he smiled softly, “if you look at your feet, you’ll fuck it up.”

you nodded, looking into his eyes again. this time you were close enough to see the specks of blue in his green eyes, how his eyelashes kissed his cheeks every time he blinked, how his beauty marks and freckles cutely decorated his face.

he was pretty, so so pretty. there was no denying it.

you licked your lips as he did the same with you, studying your face again as he tried his hardest to memorize it, “so…” your voice trailed off.

“so,” he echoed back, “‘re you having a good time?”

you nodded, “the best.”

“me too,” he said, reaching out gently to push a piece of hair from your face, “i’ve been meaning to tell you since i saw you earlier, but you look absolutely stunning.”

you blushed softly, feeling your cheeks turn hot, “so do you. handsome, i mean.”

he laughed softly, “i’m good with being classified as stunning.”

you rolled your eyes and laughed softly, “shut up,”

he smiled. normally he wasn’t this nervous when it came to asking girls on dates. normally he was able to keep cool, keep calm and achieve victory. but you messed with his head, sent him through a loop he had never been through. he wanted to do everything with you, he wanted it all.

his mouth spoke before his brain could filter it, “did you wanna go on a date with me?”

you looked up at him with wide eyes, immediate regret washing over his face as your silence made his cheeks turn hot.

“oh, i’m sorry-“

“no, it’s okay-“

“- i don’t know where that came from-“

“lando,”

“i’m sorry if i crossed any-“

“lando!” you laughed, causing him to stop his rambled apology. he looked at you, the smile you wore on your face calming his nerves.

“i’d love to go on a date with you.”

he smiled, chuckling to himself as he pulled you closer. your head rested against his chest as he held you close, “thank god.”

you laughed, smiling against his dress shirt, thinking about how this could be the beginning of the two of you, how it would all start right here in this moment.

[silvergyus]

best man and maid of honour being absolutely enemies and hating the living shit out of each other

hate sex at the bachelor/bachelorette parties?

"i hate you" - c.bg

pairing: best man!beomgyu x maid of honor!reader

summary: your best friend is marrying the love of her life, but you can't stand her groom's best man, choi beomgyu. his arrival at her bachelorette party sends you into a rage, one that turns into something more heated than just an argument

warnings: hate sex, semi-public sex (bathroom at a club), dubcon (reader and bg are both somewhat intoxicated), pussy job, unprotected sex, pull out method, spanking, mention of hickeys, hair pulling (bg receiving), use of "baby/ princess/ pretty slut" for reader, insults as foreplay?

word count: 2,800+

part one of wedding season

“How original.” Despite being impossibly close already, he pressed closer to you, more in your space. You felt the heat grow between your legs and swore it was the tequila. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel then?”

“I hate you,” you spat through gritted teeth.

“Then why are you humping my leg?”

I need to know where you’re having Soobin’s bachelor party

Your text sat unread alongside several other versions of the same message. God, he was driving you crazy.

It’s true that maybe you were taking your duties as maid of honor a little more seriously than you really needed to. You’d heard the wedding planner mutter that it was almost as if you were the bridezilla. But is it really your fault if the bride was your absolute best friend since childhood and didn’t have a party planning bone in her body? Her big day would be completely perfect in every way, you were going to make damn sure of it- which meant that you couldn’t kill the best man, no matter how much you wanted to.

----

You’d never been a big fan of Beomgyu. He was Soobin’s best friend. You adored Soobin- he made your best friend happy and always was kind and considerate of you when you third wheeled- but you couldn’t understand why someone so kind, so patient as Soobin would be best friends with someone like Beomgyu. They were polar opposites. Soobin was quiet; Beomgyu needed to be the life of the party. It was grating. He was too rowdy, too silly, too committed to the bit.

And right now, he was driving you completely crazy with his lack of responses.

You wanted this bachelorette party to be perfect, straight out of a movie. Dinner, drinks, tiny penis straws- a night to remember. Your best friend and her entire bridal party were going to pregame at your apartment before heading to her favorite club. Everyone would buy her drinks and make her feel like a princess until she got too drunk to walk. You’d even pre-ordered the Uber for the end of the night.

You’d planned out outfits and accessories and a perfect itinerary. This Saturday was going to be perfect. Only one thing could put a wrench in your plans, and he was currently leaving you on delivered.

----

Several days, many texts and a few voicemails later, Beomgyu finally replied.

Same day. Quit worrying. I have everything planned

Where though? You texted back immediately. But to no avail. He didn’t even open your reply.

“That asshole."

----

The bass pumped steadily through the speakers, a thumping you could feel in your chest. The night was going perfectly. Photos were perfectly candid, drinks were flowing steadily, not a hair on your head was out of place. Everyone’s dresses were shiny and slutty and looked damn good. Everything was perfect. Just as you planned. You were practically glowing- or maybe that was just a side effect of the tequila.

You were just about to snap another selfie with the bridal party when you heard a warbled “baby!” from across the bar. Your best friend’s eyes lit up as she turned around to see her fiance rushing towards her. Soobin, larger than life, appeared as a blur, scooping her up in his embrace and plastering drunken kisses across her face.

You froze. Fuck! What is he doing here?

The bride was whisked away by her husband-to-be, leaving you at the bar, mouth hung open in disbelief. Everything was perfect. How could this happen?

The culprit behind your ruined night slid into the seat next to yours. Choi Beomgyu, a nasty smirk on his face, appeared in your sight. Your blood boiled. “How dare you?” you hissed.

His face didn't change as he asked, “how dare I what?”

“How dare you show up here? You knew this was my choice for the bachelorette party.”

“Watch your tone, princess, it was literally not my fault.”

You scoffed, pissed at his tone and the pet name. “How is it not your fault that you’ve brought the guys here to ruin my girls’ night?”

“You know how Soobin gets when he drinks,” Beomgyu reminded you. The part of your brain that wasn’t swimming in tequila recognized that he had a point. You and your best friend had laughed more than once at the sentimental calls she received from a drunken Soobin, in his feelings after a few drinks and missing his girl. The part of your brain that just drank a margarita out of a tiny pink penis straw didn’t care that maybe Beomgyu had a point, that part of your brain was just pissed off.

Your mouth moved faster than the logical part of your brain as you cursed him out. How dare he ruin your night? Why would he do the one thing you asked him not to do? You texted him, so, so, so many times. Though you haven’t drank much, the alcohol mixed easily with the swirling emotions to take your anger from zero to ten quickly, and it wasn’t long before heads began to turn in your direction.

Beomgyu grabbed your wrist to pull you away from the bar, away from the curious eyes. You were reluctantly pulled along towards the shadows near the bathrooms. His grip on your arm only made your anger burn hotter. Who does he think he is?

He pulled you to a stop in the single-stall restroom, his hand finding its way to your waist. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he looked you in the eyes. “You need to calm down.”

"Why the fuck are you here? I told you not to come here. I told you so many times and you fucking showed up anyway!"

He sighed, leaning back as he did. “I told you; Soobin asked and I couldn’t say no.”

The light caught his dark hair at this angle, shining through his bangs and illuminating his features. Was he always this good looking?

Beomgyu noticed your pause. “That’s it then? Got nothing to say now? After that scene out there?”

You felt the anger in your blood pick up again. “Don’t act like I’m the asshole here!” You took a staggering step towards him in the tiny space as you raised your voice. “You could’ve distracted him!”

He took a step back, away from your advancement. He tilted his head, resting it against the dark red wall. Your temper stilled in your chest as your eyes fixated on his Adam's apple, on the sharp angle it possessed, how it jutted out from his pretty throat. What was happening to you? Why were you noticing things about him?

“You keep doing that.” His voice was low when he spoke, its trembling bass sent a shiver down your spine. You swore it was just the alcohol that made you squeeze your thighs together.

“Doing what?” Your voice was barely more than a whisper. You weren’t sure Beomgyu could hear it over the noise of the club, muffled but still noticeable in the small bathroom.

He moved towards you, caging you in, pressing you back against the cool stone of the sink. “Getting distracted.”

Your breath hitched as you took in his features. His brown eyes stared at you with something burning below the surface. His cheeks were flushed red from his own night of drinking. His full lips were parted just so, and were so, so close to yours.

You watched him smirk, laughing at you. The spark of anger flashed in you again. How dare he laugh at you? Put you in this compromising position? Take you away from you girls after ruining your night? “There you go again. Am I that distracting, princess?”

“Shut up.”

“How original.” Despite being impossibly close already, he pressed closer to you, more in your space. You felt the heat grow between your legs and told yourself it was the tequila. “Since it's just the two of us here," he leaned in so his breath fanned against your ear as he spoke. "Why don’t you tell me how you really feel then?”

“I hate you,” you spat through gritted teeth.

“Then why are you humping my leg?” His voice was deep and mischievous as he asked, dark eyes glinting with a look that made both your anger and the heat between your thighs swell.

You looked down in horror as he lifted the front of your dress to reveal a wet spot on his jeans. “Look baby, all wet just for me.” He was goading you, and fuck, it was working.

“Shut up,” you said again, shoving his shoulders hard so he stepped back. You followed, pushing him against the dark wall once more. Your hands found his collar as you spoke. “You never listen to me! You weren’t supposed to be here! You always make everything about you!” You were pissed, letting the alcohol bring up the feelings you’ve politely squashed down for months. You wanted him to know what you thought of him, needed him to know that you couldn’t stand to be around him. That he was the bane of your existence and this night was the icing on the cake.

But this close you could smell the cologne he dabbed on his throat, a warm, spicy scent that made your head spin a different way than the tequila did. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, tilting his head to look at you and it filled your vision. You suddenly felt very hot and a very strong need to bite it, to mark him up.

“Is that everything? Or is there anything else you want to say?” You met his gaze, dark chocolatey, brown eyes rimmed with pretty lashes. Was Beomgyu hot? How had you never noticed him like this before?

His voice interrupted your thoughts. “Because if it is, I’d like to say that you are the most controlling, tight-wound, micro-managing person I’ve ever met. If it’s not your way, then it’s not right.” He grabbed your hands from his collar as he spoke, holding them tightly as he pushed you backwards until your ass met the cool stone of the sink. “Isn’t that so?”

The action threw you off your guard. He was toying with you in a way you didn’t expect. He was always a tease, but this was much more controlling than you’d ever seen him be. “Answer me.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that.”

“Or what?”

He stared at you, eyes burning into yours as you held your face fierce. You had no idea how to answer but you couldn’t back down. Not now, not to him.

The tension broke by way of Beomgyu claiming your lips with his, a swift kiss that shook you out of your competition. His lips were soft, slightly chapped as he nibbled at yours, tongue darting out to ask for entrance. His tongue was in your mouth, filling your head with notes of beer and whisky, a sharp contrast to the sickly sweet tequila that still coated your tongue. Fuck, he tasted good, deep and smoky, it paired so well with his cologne. Your head spun, fuzzy and light. You needed him, needed him now.

His hand groped your breast over the tight material of your dress, squeezing not for your pleasure but for his. His actions were rough, quickly pulling down the thin fabric to paw at your bra. You broke the kiss to gasp when his fingers pulled roughly at your nipple, but Beomgyu didn’t stop. His hands continued to squeeze and pull however they wanted as his teeth nipped at the column of your throat. It was maddening.

You tugged roughly at his hair, drawing a whine as you pulled him away from your neck. Through the haze in your head you could only remember that you couldn’t have any hickeys at the wedding. “Suck here.” You shoved his head roughly onto your chest, throwing your head back in ecstasy as his hot mouth found your nipple.

It was good, so good. Beomgyu made sweet noises against your skin when you pulled his hair, lightly in comparison to the rough tug that brought him to your chest. His mouth was good, but all the attention to your chest left you feeling needy in your core. You pulled his hair again, forcing his pretty lips away from your aching nipple. “Are you gonna fuck me?”

He rolled his eyes, mouth slick with his saliva. “Always so demanding.” He lifted you onto the ledge of the sink, fingers ghosting up your inner thigh. “Does this pussy need something?”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“No,” he said, mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “Ask me nicely.”

You scoffed. As if.

But he held your gaze, challenging. You looked down to see the tent in his pants, clearly he wanted this too. But he didn’t budge. “Ask me nicely or I’ll leave you here like this.”

“Fuck you.”

He cocked his head. “Is that so?” His movements were quick as he turned you around so you stood, front plastered to the sink ledge. His hands reached beneath your dress to pull down your soaked panties, leaving you exposed, pressed to his back and facing yourself in the mirror. “If you’re not going to ask nicely, then I’m not going to fuck you.” His voice was a low growl in your ear.

A hand held your chest as you felt him unbutton his pants, actions sloppy and uncoordinated with one hand. You bit back a moan as you felt his hot cock press against your ass. He pushed it against your folds, nudging your clit and making you whine.

“Just this until you beg for my cock.” He thrust against you, cock gathering your drooling wetness and gliding, frustratingly smooth against your sensitive core. It wasn’t enough, couldn’t be enough. His cock felt delicious and hot against you, but it didn’t slip inside. You arched back, aching for him to be inside. He chuckled at the motion. “So desperate.” His hand slapped your ass, the sound loud in the tiny room. “C’mon, use your words.”

You shook your head, not wanting to give in, to let him win. He continued to thrust against your pussy, making a mess of the both of you. The tip of his cock snagged against your entrance and you moaned loudly, hanging your head as you gripped the cool stone sink in an attempt to ground yourself. 

He laughed at your display, hand finding your chin and forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “Look at yourself. Such a pretty slut for me,” he groped your chest as he whispered. The dual sensations of his tip brushing against your clit with every thrust and his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples was driving you mad. You needed him, you couldn’t stand it. Paired with the soft pants and almost-hidden moans from Beomgyu behind you, you were stuck maddeningly on the edge.

“C’mon, say it. Ask me. Tell me you need my cock.” He smacked your ass again, pushing you into the sink and breaking your defenses.

“Please! Please Beomgyu, please give me your cock! Need it so bad, fuck, just put it inside.”

His smile was devilish as he kissed your throat. “Now, that wasn’t too hard, was it?”

He didn’t let you answer before pushing his cock fully inside you. Slick with your wetness, he went in smoothly, earning a loud moan from you at the sudden fullness. He groaned along with you, eyes crinkling shut as he took in the feeling. “God, this pussy.”

His hips snapped into you messily. Both of you were already so close to your peaks, there was no way that this would last long. His cock hit that spot inside of you perfectly at this angle. It was a sweaty mess of slick and pleasure and you weren’t sure how long you could hold off before crashing.

“Beomgyu,” you panted his name. “I’m close.” His hand reached down, finding your over-sensitive clit and pressing down roughly. “Don’t- don’t cum in me.” You grabbed his hand that gripped the sink. He nodded against your hair, not looking up.

“Cum on my dick baby, cum on my dick and I’ll cum on your ass.” You nodded, anywhere but inside.

He shoved his fingers in your mouth and you sucked, coating them in your spit. They returned to rub quick, hard circles on your clit. Your orgasm struck you like lighting, hot and heavy it poured down on you, splitting your fuzzy head wide open. Your legs shook against Beomgyu and before you were fully through your high he was pulling out to shoot his load across the bare skin of your ass.

The two of you stood there, leaning against the sink for support as you panted, coming down from your highs. Beomgyu’s forehead rested against your back.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before he shuffled away, still close, but not pressed against you. “We should,” you began. He was still beautiful, even after your cloud of rage-induced lust had faded. You cleared your throat. “We should, um, we should probably clean up. Go find everyone.”

His voice was husky when he spoke. “They’re probably wondering where we are.”

Your gaze lingered on him for a little too long before you replied softly, “yeah, probably.”

author’s note: this is a work of fiction not meant to accurately represent the idol. please do not repost.

taglist: @theresawtf, @dearlyjun, @moamidzyism, @miupow

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[aemondsbabe]

Claimant

summary: you've been betrothed to jace and aemond simply can't have that

pairing: aemond targaryen x sister!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, reader is described as looking like alicent (coppery hair, wide eyes) but no other descriptors are used, dark!aemond, targcest, incest, knife play (aemond has a thing for knives idk), knife fucking? she fucks the handle idk, no blood/injury, slight coercion, slight degradation, a very viserys (GoT) coded aemond, slight dubcon but the reader is here for it, fingering, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i genuinely don't know what to say about this. i got inspiration from this last night and became a woman possessed!

check out part 2 & part 3!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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creds to @tomblythsgf for the gif!

Your skin prickles, the hair at the nape of your neck standing on end as you feel his gaze on you yet again, making your heart hammer in your chest as you nod along to whatever Lord Tyland is saying, your lips stretched into a polite grin while he drones on and on about something or other. The sweet, heady taste of Dornish wine fills your mouth as you sip from your cup and your eyes flick up as you chance a quick glance to the other end of the great hall. 

A small gasp leaves your lips as your eyes meet his, one lilac and one veiled sapphire, both filled with barely contained rage as he sulks in a darkened corner by the doors. 

“Are you feeling well, princess?” Tyland questions and it’s only then you realize how hard you’re breathing, chest heaving as you pant.  

“Of course,” you manage a tight-lipped, courteous smile, “The excitement of the day must be getting to me, if you’ll excuse me.” Quickly, you make your way back to the main table in the center of the room, smiling gratefully as you lay your eyes on your husband-to-be.

“Prince Jacaerys,” you smile, setting your cup down on the long wooden table, “Would you do me the honor of joining me for another dance?”

His dark eyes light up as you approach and he quickly nods, “How am I meant to say no to my future bride?” He chuckles, standing and offering you a hand, which you gladly accept. 

You try your best to focus on the music, the crowd, the loud hum of the conversations that fill the hall – anything but your older brother’s gaze that still bores into you. You can practically feel his rage multiply tenfold as the brunettes wraps an arm around your waist, your throat dry as you grasp his shoulder, fingers digging into the fine silk tunic he wears. 

“Are you enjoying the feast, princess?” Jace asks as the two of you move gracefully across the floor, the steps of the dance thankfully long-since committed to memory. 

“How could I not?” You smile as he twirls you, your long auburn locks swaying against the satin of the cloak that flows down your back before they settle across your shoulders once more, “This is a most joyous day for both of our families.”

“Of course,” the prince nods thoughtfully, though you can’t help but notice his tawny eyes are clouded with a certain sadness, “What I mean to say is, are you happy to be marrying me?” 

Your lips part to answer, though you don’t manage to get a word out before a strong hand clasps your shoulder, your steps halting immediately. You don’t need to turn your head to see who it is, although the sour look on Jace’s face clears any lingering doubt you may have had in an instant. 

“Nephew,” Aemond speaks lowly over your shoulder, standing so close to you that your back is nearly pressed against his chest, “Could I borrow my sister for a dance?”

The prince steps back with an annoyed sigh, shooting you an apologetic look before nodding at your brother, “Of course, uncle,” his voice is monotone as he speaks, though his eyes brighten once more as they land on you yet again, “Until later, princess.” He whispers, dipping his head down to press a soft kiss against the back of your hand; Aemond all but growls behind you.

Your older brother sweeps in as soon as Jace’s back is turned, tightly wrapping an arm around your waist as the two of you continue the dance from where you’d left off. “You know I hate seeing you with him,” Aemond rasps, threading the fingers of one of his hands together with yours, “You belong to me, sweet sister, no one else.”

Your heart twists in your chest and you know deep within yourself that his words are true, not that it matters. “There is nothing I can do, brother,” you whisper, your eyes flitting over to where your mother and grandsire sit, “I had no choice in the matter, you know this.”

Aemond hums lowly in his throat as the two of you sway to the soft orchestral music, his hand untangling itself from yours to grasp your chin, tilting your head up to face him. His lilac eye all but burns with fire as he gazes down at you, “You should be mine, you are mine,” he seethes, words hissed through clenched teeth, “Our fool of a mother should’ve known better than to shackle you to some bast–”

“Do not speak ill of mother,” you admonish, shaking your head free of his grasp, “You know she had as little say in the matter as I did.” 

He huffs a quiet laugh out through his nose, teeth gleaming dangerously as he smiles ruefully, the hand at the small of your back tightening still. “You don’t actually want the Strong bastard,” he whispers, careful to hardly breathe the treacherous words in the crowded hall, “Do you, little one?”

Little one. You shiver at the name, one he had called you since childhood, blushing as he smiles knowingly. “Of course not–!”

“Do I need to remind you who you belong to?” He whispers hoarsely, eye flitting to your lips before he can stop himself, “Of where your true loyalty shall always lie?”

Before you can answer, he’s leading you from the hall and you willingly follow, his dutiful shadow as always, grasping tightly to his arm as he leads you through the familiar winding corridors of the keep until you come to his chambers at last. 

You gasp as he all but pushes you through the entryway before slamming the heavy wooden door closed behind you. Your wide eyes follow him as he circles you like a shark circles its prey, smirking as he looks you up and down, his intense gaze igniting a fire within your belly. 

“Tell me, sweet sister,” Aemond rasps as he comes to a stop before you, one hand grasping your jaw as his lips skirt over your neck, “Does the Strong bastard still believe you to be a maiden?” 

You whimper softly, the feel of his soft lips against your skin sending you into a tailspin as they have so many times before, “Yes, brother.” You answer simply through a gasp, shivering as his teeth graze against you. 

Aemond chuckles lowly in his throat as his hands make quick work of your gown, his deft fingers undoing various buttons and ties until the fine silks sink to a pool at your feet, leaving you bare before him. 

He takes a second to appreciate you, his eye roaming over the soft curves of you he hasn’t seen in so long — ever since your mother had gotten wind of the maids quietly bringing moon tea to your chambers. 

Without a word, he leaves you and saunters over to his bed. You watch him curiously as you stand on the soft rug spread over the floor in front of the fireplace, a cold shiver running down your spine as he pulls his dagger from his belt and traces the long, silver blade of it as he turns back to you. 

“I cannot be so bold tonight as to claim you with my cock, little one,” he whispers, grinning at the blush blooming over your cheeks, “But I will have a piece of you even still.” 

“Aemond,” you start, voice shaking even as you feel slick beginning to coat the insides of your thighs as puzzle pieces snap together in your mind; you haven’t played this game with him in a very long time, “Pl—“

Your words are cut off with a shriek when the sound of fabric ripping echoes throughout his chamber as Aemond pierces his plush mattress with the dagger, leaving the dark leather hilt protruding from the fabric. 

“Come,” he beckons you over with an outstretched hand, “Prove your devotion to me, my Strong girl.” 

Your lower lip wobbles slightly at the double meaning of his words, the fire within you burning bright as you move to him without a second thought, determined to show your brother where your loyalty still lies. 

Aemond laughs softly as he helps you onto the bed, always stunned at how easily you give into him. He holds you steady, his warm hands on your bare hips as you kneel over the knife’s hilt. “You have always been mine,” he murmurs, one hand trailing up your body until it’s cupping one of your breasts, “After tonight I’ll make sure it remains that way.” 

Before you have time to question him, he presses you lower and a whimper leaves your lips as your center brushes against the handle of his blade, the smooth leather gliding seamlessly against your slick folds as you move your hips over it. 

“Oh, Aemond,” you squeak out, eyes fluttering shut as your pearl moves against the hilt, a whine leaving you as you move your hips, trying to position it at your entrance despite yourself, “Please, brother.” You whimper, growing desperate to be filled, even with this part of him. 

Aemond shushes you softly and abandones your breast to grasp at your hip again, pressing soft kisses to your neck as takes heed of your pleas and helps you lower yourself down. His cock stirs within the leather of his trousers, already straining against the fabric as he watches your sweet cunt swallow the hilt of his precious dagger. 

“That’s it,” he coaxes, guiding your hips with one hand as the other snakes up to your throat, smirking as he feels your moan vibrate against his palm, “There’s my strong girl.” 

Your eyes flutter shut as you lower yourself down fully, sheathing the dagger within you. The smooth leather of the hilt presses against your walls deliciously, the various curves and bumps pressing into each sweet spot within you with dizzying precision. 

You cannot help the whimper that tumbles from your lips at Aemond’s words, your walls clench at the leather shaft as you begin to move, impaling yourself on the stem again and again as your brother’s lilac she watches you with awe, his own chest heaving as he notices the way your slick shines against the leather, glowing in the soft candlelight of his chambers. 

“Our sweet nephew will never have you,” he says, shaking his head as his eye once again meets yours, “I’m the only one who should see you this way, writhing and wanting.” 

You nod your head as you lean against him, fingers bunched in the fabric of the black tunic he wears. “Only you, brother,” you whisper, capturing his lips in a frantic kiss as your movements grow quicker, “I don’t want anyone else.” 

Aemond gasps against your lips as you grasp his length through his trousers, rubbing over the bulge before desperately pulling at the laces of his breeches. He helps you, taking pity on your shaking hands, and groans lowly into your mouth when your hand wraps around his length, quickly stroking him from root to tip. 

One of the decorative curves of the handle brushes perfectly over the sensitive spot within you each time you buck against the dagger and you melt against his chest as you swirl your hips, grinding yourself on it. 

Aemond is all but animalistic as he groans and growls and licks into your mouth desperately before pulling away from you with a sigh, only to press hot kisses to the column of your throat; one hand once again cups your breast, his thumb teasing over your pert nipple, as the other leaves your neck to tap over your aching pearl. 

“Gods!” You gasp loudly, stroking over his thick, pulsing cock with one hand, keeping time with your hips as you sink over and over onto the handle of his dagger, your other hand weaves into hair at the nape of his neck, eager for something to anchor yourself with. 

“I would sooner gouge my eye out than let him take you,” Aemond groans, his own hips rutting into your touch as the head of his cock leaks steadily between your bodies, “You are mine, I will not stop until it is so.” 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you pant, the fire in your belly threatening to consume you as your brother’s fingers firmly circle your bud, “Aemond, I—“ 

“Let me have it,” he grunts, determined not to finish until he sees you breaking apart in his arms, “Give yourself to me, little one, let me have it.” He coaxes, doubling his efforts on your sensitive pearl. 

All at once, your high washes over you and go limp against him, a high keening sound escaping from your lips as your walls pulse over the hilt of his blade, pleasure zapping you like lightning as you coat the leather with your release, your slick dripping onto the mattress below you. 

You’re so lost in the fog of your own pleasure that you hardly hear Aemond grunt against your throat, muting his own sounds of pleasure as he bites into your soft skin. His cock twitches between you, his thick seed coating both of you as it drips down your hand. 

The two of you remain still for a moment, your brother holding you protectively against him as he smoothes a hand up and down your back. His kisses you softly as he helps you pull yourself off of his dagger before he lays you on his bed, his fingers combing through your coppery hair as it splays around your head like a halo on his pillow. 

“Stay,” he commands softly, rising from you and plucking his knife from his mattress, groaning appreciatively at the way your juices still shine on the handle, still warm against his palm from where it had been so deeply pressed within you, “I will be back shortly.” 

“Where are you going?” You question, watching as he sheaths the dagger once more into the small scabbard hanging from his belt before he tucks his softening cock back into his trousers, agile fingers quickly re-tying the laces. 

“To make you mine.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0, @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @demirunner @eponaartemisa, @trshgyn

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[zushikiss]

jealousy jealousy

summary ; the genshin boys are jealous.. of a child.

warnings ; nothing, just uhm crack yes, reader is implied to have a vision (childe's)

pairings ; childe, scaramouche x gn!reader

notes ; I GOT BORED DURING ENGLISH CLASS WOOO SO HERE YOU GO, i'd like to think that for scara's the reader works with/for nahida as a companion or smthng but it's up to you! Releasing this from my drafts 😭

─ SCARAMOUCHE

"you're really pretty! i want to be your lover when i grow up!!"

the kid in front of you says aloud as you can only let out a small giggle, choosing to play along instead of telling them off.

"well you better study hard then, so you can get a beautiful lover."

as amusing as the entirety of the situation is, the man beside you is less than amused, is this 8 yr old really challenging him?? do they not understand that you are bound to him now?? nonsense he shouldn't let a practical toddler snatch you away.

he grabs you by your waist, swift yet gentle as he looks at the kid condescendingly.

"this one's mine, find another."

and as if on cue, the kid's mother calls them before they can throw an insult at scaramouche, he turns to you and presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

"log no.1362, subject reacts negatively to competition"

"haha very funny."

─ CHILDE

(blue is teucer)

he brought you to his homeland to meet his family, not steal the heart of his little brother, you were performing tricks and making little shapes and random patterns with your vision when your boyfriend's little brother speaks up.

"woah! you're really talented! can i marry you?"

you let out a small giggle as you agreed, you weren't gonna crush this cutie's dreams, and you'd be honored to be teucer's first little crush, though both yours and his sibling's giggles were cut off when he clears his throat.

"i know were siblings but your brother doesn't share teucer."

"nuh-uh you didn't call dibs!"

"he is right ajax.. you didn't call dibs."

"isn't the fact that you're dating me enough to substitute for dibs?"