#I hope you all have a great new years eve! <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eldrith · 2 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ footprint in the snow ˎˊ˗ cregan stark

cregan stark x fem!lady!reader words: 12.1k synopsis: "The stones of Winterfell have always been blissfully cold against your palms, and Cregan’s presence has always naturally attended you." notes: hi!! this is my first cregan fic [so pls be gentle] but im excited to write for him more... still trying to work out his character but. ily @useralba and @dipperscavern ... febu frong anyways <3 i didnt edit this sorry but hope u all enjoy <3 warnings: canon-divergent au; dance does not/has not happened. north-centric AS IT SHOULD BE. characters aged 23+. slight jealousy, betrothals & poorly made up politics (actually made up so much lore sorry i do that when im nervous), brief mention of parental death, fluff, friends to lovers, smut (fingering, slight breeding kink), brief finger sucking what, light dirty talking. masterlist requests are open.

FOR AS LONG AS YOU’VE KNOWN, THE EVE OF WINTER HAS BEEN SAID TO COME IN A SHARP WHISTLE DOWN THE MOUTH OF THE PEAKS TO THE NORTH.

Sharp, precipitous - the wind that breaks bones and scatters breath; it howls through the northern curls of the Wolfswood, piercing its glacial breath through trembling needles of pine, hissing up and over the stone of the North Gate. Tales of chipped slabs of sharp, which fly from the Old Tower in a gale of old; stealing the breath from lungs old and new, whipping away parchment, stealing flight and life from those southern ravens white of feather as far as the Bloody Gate.

As a babe, your mother would sing of the sharp teeth of the Threnody; nursemaids and maester alike whispering of its wail against chamber doors even in the deepest of the castle. Your father, a less cagey spirit - still, he’d not stop the furrow of brow at the blow of hard iced snowdust that gathered within the stables on the outskirts of baileys.

And perhaps it is not yet time for the howling of the wind when the wolves still linger in the woods; when life may still yet subsist away from the spitting crackle of hearth within castle walls - but you do not feign ignorance.

Winter is coming.

It comes in wind; and, just as the Threnody of old, it is subtle and piercing, perniciously beautiful.

Lord Stark of Winterfell sits at the end of the hall, in a fur cloak that nearly swallows over the bulk of his wide frame; the lick of flames over his skin dance with the murmured din of the crowd as you watch, a cat-eyed weariness from your corner spot. It is not often this loud, though the Great hall has been much more full as of late - with the Southern company from the Reach, Winterfell has bursted at the seams just in the eve of Wintertide. A less than optimal time to host guests; but your Lord is a steadfast one, and knows an opportunity for trade when he sees one.

Your father speaks to him - you watch the men with vague interest until the elder catches your eye across the assembly; a gesture of his hand, beckoning you to their side. And the Lord Stark, face young, weathered - handsome as he is dour in the torchlight, nodding with a surprisingly warm gaze when your eyes meet.

You do not heed your father’s summon; you remain rooted instead, struck with a sudden fatigue as some odd taste of jealousy from the nest of your bosom peeks into your mind, whispering of the woman who sits only three tables away from you.

The Southern Rose. Her father, a man visiting to treat in way of increased wheat and salt trade with Winterfell; preservation starts soon, the harvest has found its end - leaves curl tight as a grip frozen in fist now, even near the Neck. She accompanied her father - words whispered from advisors of a potential betrothal - and as she is a girl just two years your junior, your father had instructed you to accompany her through her visit to Winterfell.

Truthfully, you’ve found her quite wonderful - a sweet girl, though fairly plain-minded: innocent smiles, soft polite nods. You spent the fortnight riding through the Wolfswood, needlepointing - tasks rather simple, though torturous only when you caught glimpses of Lord Cregan and his men in the yard, in the halls, or treating. A yearning festered in your breast during these past days - a desire to attend matters of the mind instead of, perhaps, such soft matters.

Though no fault of her own. A kind girl, you do swear by the gods - though each simpering look to the man who walks with Ice at his back twists a dagger deeper into your gut; A fine wife for a wanting Warden, the lords had advised - and you, with an ear pressed to the closed oaken door of Cregan’s hall like some bright-eyed maiden. An alliance with a house South would allow for a stake in the Southern lord’s trade route to Dorne; A smart match, perhaps, if Cregan searches for reach outside his North.

You’re not particularly convinced he does.

Though the hearths are large and heavy tonight, you yearn for that curling reach, that whisper of agony that cradles limbs into chests - and with a spare step towards the crack in the hall’s entrydoors, cool air pierces the tissue within your chest.

Outside is the swirling ink of the owl’s hour.

If you could see through the song of night, up and over the walls of stone which keep the first whispers of Threnody at bay - you might find the ridged roofs of Winter Town; and even beyond, those breathing hills that bring the Kingsroad up and back down. And cold, that creeping wolf, that slither of ragging which drags clouds to the ground and whispers promises of winter.

You press your lips together; Who would wish to look beyond such persevering beauty?

Cregan’s voice is low across the hall, though you can hear it through the din of the feast as he converses with his men; a swirl of affection, that comfortable specter in the corner of your thoughts. A glance back through the oak door to that sirened wail of glacial, ancient breath; the southern rose… and you, a pine in wildflowers.

The yard below the great hall swirls with untouched crystals; miniscule, they glimmer in the open air and twirl in a mesmerizing dance - the ale in your palms is much too warmed by the blood that pumps through you.

A young man beside you gestures rather agitatedly; and you, bristled with the realization that you allow the creeping draft to leak into the hall, step forward once, allowing the doors to once again shut. The hall is warm and your mind is fuzzy; you step away, hugging the outskirts of the wall and avoiding the heat of your cheeks.

Lord Stark rises in your peripheral when you begin the short promenade returning to your seat.

It is inevitable at any feast, his company - Cregan, a man only three namedays your senior and, even before becoming your Lord, a very close companion. Youths tied up in the training of noble roles, you and Cregan got on rather well - your father advised Lord Rickon, as a vassal house of the Starks; now, he serves Rickon’s son just the same.

Your brief respite near the exit of the hall is short-lived when his boots pave their way towards you, bisecting your path though you pretend to pay the man no mind, a grin growing on your lips - there is only a breath of his own amusement in the short cat-and-mouse game you begin on the way to the trestle table; the stones of Winterfell have always been blissfully cold against your palms, and Cregan’s presence has always naturally attended you.

Trots of hooves through the Wolfswood, trailing steps hurried through halls to keep up with long strides – a brief nod in passing when Maester Kennet would end the young Stark’s studies early. You’d learned to shoot a bow with him and his late brother in that very yard below; shared huffs of amusement when your arrow sailed wide.

And even now, well over your youth; it remains how it has always been, with your roots so very sunk into the hard earth of the North; the Kings of Stark over your family’s barony of land just half-day’s west of Winterfell. And when Lord Rickon drew his final breath - and some years later, too, when Bennard’s slow relinquishment darkened the skies - you never dared worry of how life might change.

You call him Lord Stark now - though in the quiet moments, he oft prefers Cregan; still the boy who convinced your father and his own to let you attend seasonal hunt, who sat with you in the rookery for hours of silence when your mother left the mortal realm; who did not protest when you insisted you did not wish to discuss it; who wiped tears from your weary skin so they’d not freeze; who waited patiently as you watched wind blow needles from the pines and ravens drop from clouded sky.

And you, still with some melancholy whisper from the air that blows crystals over the hills towards Last Hearth; a Threnody of your own, your chilled craving despite the warmth of your soul. Cregan calls you my lady now - though he was keen to do so just as oft in youth, despite the blushing of your cheeks and quick glances to the snow-licked ground.

He approaches you this evening with a storm of a stare and a hint of a smirk that, to any other, would look merely as his usual stoic countenance; though there is a bright in his eyes, a twitch upon his lip as he takes in the shifting of your boots upon the stone.

You busy yourself traveling to your seat without tripping upon your feet - but still he meets you, eyes hooked upon the curve of your jaw and sliding over the apple of your cheek when you arrive to your spot, concealing your smile with a nod.

A cacophony of laughter from the wolf’s council - you feel much more at home when the attention is off you and your Lord, hidden in the backlit corner.

The hall is warm; warm, when all you can see are dark locks, drawn brows, pink lips, stubbled jaw. Your heart clenches when his arm brushes your own, if only for a moment.

“Lord Stark.” Your voice swims; a wavering, perhaps from the mead that lingers on the back of your tongue, or at the stare that hooks itself upon your own. His eyes take you in - slowly, as if appreciative - an active repression of any fluttering at such a gaze, knowing him much too well to allow yourself a stirred feeling.

“My lady,” He greets back; he’s obscured you with his height from the brunt of the hearth’s breath - a small relief, as your chest grows hot under the slow roll of his tone and your eyes fall from the mountain of his comportment. His gaze finds the doors at the hall entrance before returning to you, alight with something less than mirthful but not completely chastising.

“Is the feast not satisfactory?” A drop of tease in a river of adherence; you hear it though, you feel it - and with the flow comes a tide of affection in your stomach. A small smile that smoothes your hot cheeks, “It is wonderful,” You mend, biting your lip, “I am rather keen to find momentary respite outside, though.”

He seems sated enough with your words, nodding just once. “You’ve always been one for the cold.” He absently observes as his eyes flick to the table briefly, “I suppose you’ve been kept inside the walls too much as of late, aye?”

A reminder of your recent charge - of the girl, eyes shining as clear as day, gazing upon the mountainous frame of Lord Stark from across the hall.

She much prefers the hearth to the raw air; and you’ve done nothing but acquiesce, placating the whims of the girl who might one day be your Lady Stark - an unpleasant thought, though one that could very well be a reality. Your throat tightens in a bough of unwarranted jealousy at the thought and, with a tight swallow, you nod to your Lord, gaze leaving his own.

Your fingers trace the silver prongs upon the table, left after you’d finished your meal half-eaten in search of the whispering sirens of flurry in the courtyard; you do not find it within yourself to speak, and perhaps that is why Cregan worries so for your disposition.

“You’re distant tonight,” he decides, eyes lingering for a moment longer on the flush of your cheeks - perhaps from the drink, perhaps from something else entirely - and though he is just inches away now, he makes no unnecessary movements - an approach calm, unwishing to ward off a skittish creature. A wolf upon a pup.

You, in your avoidance of his ownsolemn disposition, nearly miss the opportunity given for you to respond - and so you start with a breath and a lifted stare.

“Perhaps it is because I was not seated with all you lords at the grand banquet table,” you quip; a rather surprising use of attitude in front of such company. An inkling of rather instant regret - you ought to watch your tongue around the members of the Household.

Mercifully, Cregan only provides you with a stern glance and a lifted brow, that trickle of amusement only a breathed whisper across the cool gaze of piercing eyes.

He certainly is aware of your quiet yearning - perhaps in a degree more at least than your yearning for himself, which has never been spoken but has often been rather obvious - but instead to follow your father’s footsteps; an advisor to the Warden, a trusted voice, in the eve of wintertide.

You have, for all the exhausted topics Cregan and yourself have touched upon in your many years of companionship, not outwardly admitted such hypnagogic desires; implied, perhaps. But a dreamy wish, a foolish one for a noble girl like yourself.

His eyes swim between your own, perhaps waiting for more words that do not yet come. You should apologize for your tongue, though away from any other ears, it is oft that your Lord prefers you to speak candidly, uninhibited by much courtly restraint. It is indeed the most common times you’ve been successful in pulling a chuckle or laugh from the man.

Though this time, he makes the decision for you. “Too much ale?”

You lift a brow in challenge of the amused tone that barely leaks through, setting the mug down upon the banquet before you.

“Too much heat,” You excuse instead, hoping your fuzzy mind does not lead to slurred words as your jaw directs his gaze to the massive hearth that threatens to swallow him from behind - and then, with that quiet voice once again, “I apologize for my tongue, my Lord.”

A frown that looks heavenly on such a countenance- and a brief flush upon the strong ridge of nose; he shifts, vague but endearing from one large trunk of leg, corded with thick muscle, to another.

“You need never apologize for a gift. So long as you know well enough when to use it.” He murmurs - and after a stilled moment, you nod with tight lips, heart thumping quietly; unintentional as it may be, such words from him sends your desire for him into a gallop.

In an effort to conceal your affections, you laugh quietly against the heat of your cheeks. “You will come to regret such words, surely.” Your jest falls upon his ears and he hums low, finishing the ale in the mug held by large hands, eyes burning into yours even as he finishes the last gulp. “I doubt that, my lady.”

There is a draft that catches the edge of your skirts; it carries, beckoning you - the doors have opened, and Lord Cerwin steps outside with a swift nod to Lord Stark and yourself. Some break of the seal which held together your remaining composure; you let out a breath, eyes flickering back to the storm of interest that watches down upon your visage. “I regret I could not attend to you these past weeks.” He murmurs again- rather talkative this eve, it seems. You eye the goblet dwarfed in his large palms; perhaps the ale has done him in as it has you.

A flip of your stomach, heartbeat picking up at his words - attend you? He must see your expression; for he shifts as flames lick up the leather upon his back. “It has been nearly a moon since I placed a blade in your hand.” He mends, face solemn; a breath from your lips as you exhale shortly. Ah.

Many days - wind whipping at your cheeks, piercing through your heavy cloaks; Cregan’s few minutes found in spare days to show you parries and ripostes, castigating gently when you try a cheap sweep at his legs and barking in amusement when you fall upon your backside.

A small burst of cracking embers rise from the hearth just over his stalwart shoulder - you smile at the man before you, watching his own lips twitch at your small huff of amusement.

“There were more important matters,” Your voice light. “-Negotiations, alliances,” You clear your throat, “matters of the realm.”

His eyes, hawkish as he shifts once more; the shadow of his figure swallowing your own frame as your hand falls onto the table to stabilize yourself against his stare. “Aye,” He nods, gaze briefly flicking to the row of men at the front of the hall; your father finishes his ale, in discussion with Lady Gilliane and the Southern lord. “Tomorrow eve they set for the Kingsroad. And they will have my trade agreements.” His words come as some promise. You’d well noticed the thirty men and women preparing to leave Winterfell; they are guests at this feast indeed. You resist a snarking comment in rebuttal, instead heeding his politeness - and nod slowly.

Another guest leaves the feast and you follow the swish of her skirts and furs with your stare. Just out those ajar doors, tendrils of flakes fall from the skies. You long to feel them kiss the crown of your head, feel them settle upon the downy cloak that sits crooked upon your shoulders; a small draft that kicks again, and the chill begins to settle your flaming cheeks.

The Southern Rose sips upon a goblet of sweetwine across the way with her few ladies-in-waiting; she smiles brightly at you across the hall and you smile back, aware of the brooded stare upon your visage from beside you. “Only trade?” You finally wonder, unable to look at Cregan, finger tracing the wear of the wood below your palm.

After a small breath - Lord Stark must direct his glance towards the previous subject of your attention before turning back to you, a frown carved by the gods into the solemnity of his gaze.

Your heart jumps when he shifts, his arm brushing yours - fingers, large and calloused, adjusts the clasp upon your cloak, knuckles kissing the line of your jaw before dropping away.

Your cheeks are impossibly hot, though his are just as well. “Only trade,” he echoes, though there’s something within his tone - some secret assurance, one which sets your stomach in warmth. It is a simple silence which follows; his cloaked arm is warm against the fabric of your gown, though you do not mind it.

“I would not keep you any longer from your respite.” He finally decides, gesturing to the open oak doors, to the pull of chill; A dulcet resonance - you stare at the crawl of flames around his ribcage, flicking over the bulk of muscled mass swathed in furs. You nearly request he join you, though it is swallowed by the polite nod he sends to the girl who sits across the hall, watching with curious eyes.

“You have a good evening, my Lord.” You bid him, heart fluttering at the pearly soot of his gaze, at the warmth that leaves you as you take a step aside to gather yourself.

His eyes do indeed follow your movements, tracing the familiar bend of your spine from your peripheral.

“You as well, my lady.”

THE NIGHT BRINGS HOWLS OF WINTERTIDE.

And the morning reaps a chill that does not subsist from the core of your bones - even when you pace through the outer hall of the Great Keep, fingers tapping anxiously against the fabric of your skirts, cheeks sharpened by a flurry across the yard.

There is a great excitement that has stirred in your chest; some disbelief, tethered to the echo of men’s swords in the yard and of hushed whispers between bearded mouths in the halls - though as you recall Maester Kennet’s words written and delivered to your bedchambers late last evening after the feast, you cannot help but bite a smile back between your lips.

Schooling such girlish giddiness in the brunt of impending adversity, still your heart swells; a glance up the spiraled stones of the Keep’s exterior, you eye the grimed window of your Lord’s study with a huff of disbelief.

Maester Kennet informs you Lord Stark has accepted your request for private audience - just thirty minutes past your initial supplication - and so you begin to creep your way up the inner spirals of the structure, tracing the old stone with some newborn interest.

Your hands do not waver when they knock, though you’d hesitated just a breath when you’d made it to his study; Enter, you hear him call - ever practical in his deep tone; a flutter of affection blossoms, spring in the forest of your heart. You once again wipe your perspired palms along the length of your silvered cloak before heeding his beckon.

The long croak of the oaken door behind you drags against dilapidated stone; with a scratch, the hinge shuts and you slide into the warm chamber, blinded momentarily by wintering light.

Your lord looks up from his own desk and you trace your gaze along the outskirts of the study; a rather humble room, if the beauty of Winterfell’s castle could ever have such a thing - leatherbound histories, candles that once wept tallow, waxy tears now hardened into dots of bone upon his desk.

Lord Cregan indulges in his own sweeping glance over your figure wrapped in only lighter furs, your hands clasped and twisting before your dark dress.

“My lady,” he greets - a girlish tickle within your stomach spurs at the use of title, as though you’ve not bore it your whole life.

“My Lord, good morrow.” You greet, resisting a short rock upon your toes.

Cregan leans back in his chair, thighs spread as he wastes no words. “You awaited my acceptance from Maester Kennet,” He observes. At your nod, he continues, “You’ve no need to request an audience when you wish to speak with me. I’ve told you just as much before, have I not?”

Your smile, though faint, is genuine; you relieve yourself of the distance between you and Cregan, finding your seat with gentle grace just across him. You fix him with a glance, “And just as I’ve told you,” you echo, “-as long as you remain my lord, I shall remain mindful of your duties,” Your brow raises just so. “-Whether you wish it or not.” Your voice is rather coy, unable to contain the giddiness in your heart that arises, despite your maintained perplexion - the root of your visit to the Lord in the middle of the morning.

For half a moment, a flash of amusement upon Cregan’s lips at your familiar stubbornness; but then, he leans forward - large palms curling over the chair’s arms; you eye the worn wood enviously. “Of what do you wish to speak, then?”

You take a breath; a sweltering heat has begun to stir at the base of your neck - perhaps under the icy stare of the man before you, or the quick gallop of your heart within your chest; outside, the same whistling howl of winds that laces itself through the song of the hounds in the kennels below.

“I’m…” You shift after beginning, eyes flicking to the quill and ink well that lie abandoned beside him, letter halfway handscribed. A surprising bout of shyness you’ve been struck with under his attention, under the memory of the letter delivered to you last eve.

Your frown is one of far-off considerations, recalling the information that’d been served with your evening tea while you prepared for slumber last night, a syrupy sleepiness to your hands from the remnants of the feast’s mead; News, given by way of Maester Kennet’s handscript, informing you of your new station.

A twist of anticipation and determination; you level Lord Stark with eyes icier than his own.

“I suppose I’m rather surprised that you’ve appointed me to your council, my Lord.”

The truth is blunt - it feels relieving to rip it off your skin; and so you press on, watching the stern visage before you, wondering if you’ve ever noticed him looking at you without such tender absorption as you see now.

Your voice continues, strong. “-It’s uncommon for a woman to serve on the Warden’s council, unless she is the Lady of the House.” You fight to ignore the thunder of your heart at such a sentiment - you, Lady of the House - and add with a voice just as strong, “-and we both know I am no such thing.”

A call of raven outside; and a laugh bubbling off somewhere in the courtyard below, melting into a long howl of a hound in the kennels. Cregan watches you carefully, holding your gaze; moments pass under his stare, but you do not squirm - no, as always, you stare back.

“Would you not accept?” He wonders finally, tone rather unbiased - and for a brief moment, you believe his question is directed towards your latter sentence; a drop in your stomach, though you recover in a breath, swallowing thick.

You rush to deny it in your accidental hesitance. “-No, my Lord, I'm honored. It’s just rather…unexpected.”

The quiet looms, a cloud rolling over the morning sun; eclipsed in the backlit shadow of daylight by his frame, you begin to pick at the thread of your dress. A fine gown, hand-needled by your own hands just a fortnight ago.

And then, with a breath; his lips twitch ever so slightly - merely a brief uptick, but you know him. His stare, stark as the wintered sky as he nods curtly - you fight your own grin at the shift.

“You’ve a good mind for these matters,” his voice is even, face serious. “Some at my table will do well to learn from you.”

You let out a soft laugh, not particularly out of amusement but rather out of surprise at his words, heart stumbling. “I wasn’t aware you thought so highly of me.” You admit, though you both know this to be untrue.

His gaze doesn’t waver, and neither does his opinion. “I’ve always thought highly of you.”

The words lodge themselves true into your chest.

And yes, you’ve never been one to underestimate your own intellectual prowess, nor to shy away from an opportunity; though your mind still reels in befuddlement, and you press to hear more, to understand. “You have wiser men - those who served your father well before you.” You observe, tilting your head; a wintery sunbeam ices through the looser strands of your hair, and Cregan's grayed pools trace their colour in the sun.

“Aye,” He nods as his gaze returns to your own, “Your father is one of them.”

He is firm; an intimidation in his broad frame, the haloed bright of snowed refractions around his head. “Though it is not about who is wiser, nor who has served longer. It’s about knowing when to speak, and when to hold your peace. When to challenge me.” And Gods be good, his lips curve slightly; a whisper of a smile, some sweep of chilled wind over the face of a mountain.

Your heart stirs at his words, a rush of emotions that burst below your composed exterior. Memories of mulish disagreements, of sliding glares at his youthful visage and stubborn stomps of your foot. Your voice remains firm, though rather surprised. “Challenge you?” You echo with a small smirk.

“Aye,” he responds without hesitation. “Many lords surround themselves with voices that tend to echo their own thoughts. But you,” His gaze never leaves yours; pinned you remain, eyes unblinking against his, “-you will tell me what I must hear, even when it is hard. Will you not?”

Heat that blossoms over your cheeks as you nod at him - your throat is incredibly dry, “Yes, my lord.”

He hums, eyes in a brief flash over your sat figure before returning to you. “Good.”

And in the burgeoning moment, a pounding of your heart; you shift in your seat, flattered as a beam of wintered light graces the colour of your stare.

Your fingers still their nervous picking at your gown as you take a slow breath. “And if I do not always agree with you? If I say no, when you would rather hear yes?”

Cregan leans in just slightly. “I trust no other as I trust you. You'd not dare speak something you do not believe, simply because it pleased me.”

An absence of concern in your heart at his words, instead filling you with a fierce warmth that curls around the sweet ice coursing through your veins. “You have my word, Cregan. I will advise you as best I can when needed.”

His expression does not waver; though there is a flicker within his gaze. “I never doubted it.”

And then, a gust of breath from the heavens; a rattling gentle against thick pane of glass, though a chill still finds its tendrils in your bones when hard flakes of snow whirl against the exterior.

“The Southern company leaves this eve,” You observe, eyes glancing out the window, “It will do them well to set off before supper. Lest they become caught in the storm of Wintertide.” And then in your mind, an echo of lovely, sweet laughter; and a curl of unwanted envy at the woman behind the voice, a haunting within your own mind. You are plagued, it seems - thoughts of her kneeling before the weirwood, of his cloak round her shoulders.

“Aye,” Cregan's voice pulls you back, “We'll not hold meeting until they have left. House Cerwin’s host returns this eve, and I must attend to them.”

He rises, then - and you, with him, fingers clenched as you register his words informing you not with any air of casual discussion, but rather as a Lord does his vassal. You tamp a grin, nodding instead, following the warm guide of his hand hovered above your back towards the door.

“I will see you at my table on the morrow, my lady.” He promises when you turn back to him; with a rush of affection, you let yourself smile.

WIND WHISTLES BETWEEN NEEDLES OF PINE AND LEAVES OF OAK IN THE GODSWOOD.

A rather divine earth upon which you kneel, mind clear with the prayers you whisper to the heart before you.

It is growing cold, steadily these days - and though you have known the North your entire life, you rather forget how biting it can be when the afternoon snowfall comes.

You’ve seemed to have forgotten today, as well - your spine shivers just so, the cloak around your shoulders much too light for the tempest that has grown in the skies; flakes that kiss your braids and lick down your cheeks as you finish your intercession, eyes opening to meet the bleeding stare of the heart tree.

You choose to remain despite the frost that curls around your knees - and after a few moments of quiet, there are footsteps in the snow.

You know quite well the heavy drags of boots over the whitened crust of earth - a silence that echoes through the woods that you know can only be your Wolf.

He arrives, perhaps only moments before you register his presence; you had not known he had returned. With a thrill, you wonder if he came straight to you once crossing the gates back into Winterfell.

“My lord.” you greet, nodding as you feel his warmth behind you - and you can almost imagine the shake of his head at your knelt form.

“A northerner should know better than to come out in the cold without a proper cloak.”

A faint smile tugs at your lips, though you don’t yet turn from the tree before you. “The snow came after my prayers. I wasn’t unprepared.” You defend with a twitch of a smile - and then, just to your side, a leather glove extended for your grasp.

He pulls you to your feet with ease - and there you find Cregan, the low pool behind him echoing the breath of cloudy sky. His eyes are warm and knowing when you trace his irises with your own gaze.

Flakes continue, shed from the heavens; A white crown of winter falling upon his hair as he takes you in.

“I came to speak with you.” He says after the moment of quiet you allow; he drapes his thick outercloak upon your shoulders though you glance at him rather sheepishly at the gesture, second in nature in your long years of companionship.

It is remiss that your first few days appointed in the new station has seen a lack of advisory; alas, Cregan has finally returned after two days with Lord Cerwin and his host, and you will adjoin this evening for strategy.

“I thought as much,” your voice is soft; perhaps residual from your prayers whispered into the listening quiet of the Godswood. “Of what do you wish to speak, my lord?” There is indeed much to discuss now that the company has left Winterfell - winter comes soon enough, and the Wall indeed calls for your Lord’s visit.

His voice is only rougher as though the words take a coaxing to admit, “Before you were appointed, the lords at my table…” he begins, and your brow lifts as he stares ahead to the tree. “they spoke of a match.”

Your heart stills; you turn to face him fully, swallowing the dip in your stomach. “A match?” you repeat.

“Aye,” he confirms, “the Southern Lords proposed I take one of their daughters to wed,” He is rather impartial in tone. “Though my men… they advise I take a bride from the North.”

Perhaps it would be more of a surprise to you, had you not spent the better part of your freetime pressing ears to the council doors; indeed you are familiar with the pressure upon Cregan to take a wife.

“And…” you begin carefully, “Will you wed the Southern Rose?”

His jaw clenches; a flutter of flakes against skin though his gaze still holds you with an intensity to make your blood hum; “I denied betrothal to her,” he murmurs, breath puffing in a soft cloud of mist against thicker snowfall; he grows more quiet, then, and it stirs in your chest. “Though as for the proposal set before me by the men of my hall…” He pauses just briefly, and you blink snowflakes from your lashes. “It was not something I rejected.”

A sacred stillness; a raw breath from you as the implication of his words hit you - here, in the Godswood, before the heart tree.

The cloak he’s brought, wrapped around your shoulders, warming your chilled flesh; a kiss of sage and leather as you watch his visage - patient, waiting. Devoted.

A breath puffs from your lips in exhale.

“You speak of me,” you whisper; his eyes remain on yours, anchored to the press of your teeth into your bottom lip.

“Aye.” His response is firm, evergreen, rooted. “I speak of you.”

The trees of the Godswood whisper in that quiet way they can; breaths of creeping air that lived long before your ancestors were here. They watch you, how your fingers curl tighter into Cregan’s cloak - how your veins pump with the same blood that runs through his own. You had known this was a possibility - hints from your father’s mulling eyes as you and the Lord had returned from sparring lessons, cheeks winded and amusement laced into small glances and brushes of arms.

There is a long yearning affection that burns in your heart when you glance back up at his looming height, a small smile teasing your lips. Perhaps, as your fingers brush over heavy fur, you seek to cut through the thick silence which has found you tense with anticipation.

“Well,” you begin lightly, hoping to mask the tremor in your voice, “I suppose you would not be the worst choice for a husband, Lord Stark.”

Cregan’s brow lifts slightly at your words - and a flick of amusement swallowed by a softening; he does not brush off your words with the same playful jest you offer. A step towards you, a hand seeking your own, leather against worn leather. A hollow gust of wind across the gulley of pine to the side of you, and a red bloodleaf falls to your boots.

“I hope,” he says slowly, eyes anchored on his thumb across your knuckles. “to be the best I can be.” he continues, his voice unwavering as snow dusts his hair, his cloak.

You can only nod through a thick swallow, heart thundering. “You could never be anything less.” You ensure him. His lips part, pink against the light of afternoon; warmth spreads through your chest as his tongue wettens them just so under your watchful gaze.

“You’ve spent your life here,” he murmurs, “The North is in your blood as it is mine - Winterfell has always been yours.”

Cold, which nips at your skin and aches your bones - it is so distant now. Now, when his breath plumes between you gently. Now, as your hand squeezes his own, even faintly; Now, in a smile that you must bite back as your mind floats, his words rooting into your heart.

You grin, and it’s softer now. “You make it sound as though it’s already decided.”

Cregan’s broad form towers over you as he leans - though an effective protection from the wintered wind, you feel a shiver down your spine. “I would not presume to decide such things without your consent,” he ensures, “But the thought of another standing beside me… it has never felt right.”

And perhaps, then, he’s always known of your yearning - for how could you not know so familiar the face which looks you back in the mirror, whose heart bleeds your own blood; to know is to love, perhaps. You smile, your other hand falling onto his chest - beneath thick furs, beneath leather and tunic, a heart beats strong.

A palm, large and calloused as it graces over your cheek; you press involuntarily into his burgeoning warmth, a small smile upon your lips. “It is a good thing I suppose, that I could not imagine leaving Winterfell.” You admit - and then, fixing him with that same intent stare he brings to you: “I will marry you, Cregan.”

His breath, stuttering only momentarily as his eyes search your own - and then, a clear of his throat. “Then it will be settled,” his thumb lingers against your cheek, his touch warm against the cold that swirls - and it is more than what you'd wished for your whole life; after all, the Threnody would chase you right back to Cregan if you'd gone anywhere else.

“I will be yours, my lady.”

THE HOWL OF THE THRENODY IS A NEAR SONG ON THE DAY OF YOUR WEDDING.

The tub has been placed rather precariously aside the larger of windows awarded to your chambers; you sit in the smoldering heat of the bath, tendrils of oiled steam snaking up and curling into fog at the corners of your vision.

Outside, scarce birds chirp - a morning early enough, although in this sharp of wintercoming the creatures prefer to retreat to their nests as you stir in your own, sighing away a small dreamy breath.

It has been five and a half moons since your betrothal; your eyes flicker with a bout of excitement over to the wardrobe across the way, wherein hangs your gown and maidencloak awaiting your presence later this afternoon.

A smile unbounded, you press palms to your cheeks, attempting to cool them under the thought of what will come tonight. The handmaids have been asked away; a peculiar request from you, but you wish to enjoy a moment of serenity before you begin the day’s preparations - of which there are many - and you worry they will scarce find a moment to eat and enjoy themselves before they are tasked with your hair and your body.

It snows only in the way trees shake dust from their bones - a heavier pile of white which burdens lower limbs, and you watch the ground of powder stir when it is imbued by the weight.

Winter is near; words for so long, though now, it is true. And a fine day it is, the Gods have blessed you and Cregan - but indeed, the last of the alpine flowers have curled around a layer of frost, the lakes and ponds have crusted into flat planes thick of ice. Threnody, its whistling song in the dead of night, beckons - winter comes, and the North is prepared.

A hand falls submerged in the bathwater and you lift it once more with a stinged gasp; the skin over your middle knuckle is cracked and near raw. Maester Kennet administered a salve to it daily since your return with Cregan, Lord Cerwin, and your father - a weekslong trip to oversee the fortification of supply lines in the coming of winter’s harsh brunt.

Split skin, cracked by the iced wind; and a warm palm to hold you, lips brushed over the top of your temples in a murmur. Your cheeks burn hotter than the bathwater enveloping you; Cregan.

And true that when you lie in your lone bed each evening, plagued with an aching and catch-of-breaths that find you after the memories of chapped lips brushing your own, firmly tender touches that are more fleeting than they are anything else. When you are plagued with such thoughts, you truly think it had all been so much simpler before the betrothal.

Simpler; glances across halls - stolen moments while he’d chide to you in lessons, quiet words in the library or prideful smirks during a hunt in the Wolfswood. Anticipation is a torturous excitement, perhaps - his hands, you used to wonder - how would they feel against you?

And you know now - how they hold your cheeks, caress your shoulder, your back; you know, yet you must wait to let them truly hold you, to truly touch you how you so desire.

A sweet torture, restraint has become. Touches, kisses - far too brief, far too constrained. Your gaze falls upon the stain of red through the Godswood outside, your stomach turning with anticipation, with hunger.

And yet, the day advances.

A knock at your quarters starts you just slightly, clearing your throat as your head turns to the door. A stare at the oak, wondering if the doors to your marital chambers will look so similar as these.

The oils of mountain thyme and coltsfoot bead upon your skin when you sit upwards slightly, wondering aloud who awaits behind the door.

“-It is me, my lady.”

Not your handmaidens yet, it seems - Cregan’s voice jumps your heart into a gallop.

With a flush, you press your lips together, grasping the edge of the tub to rise from the tendrils of steam - the bleeding bundle of leaves which hemorrhage the treeline in the distance abandoned.

Perhaps only now, as you pad over thick furs upon stone to reach your robe, do you wish you’d allowed your handmaids to remain with you; if only to aid you with some slip that is less revealing than the thin satin you slip on. The stone beneath your feet is warm; you bite your lip gently.

“Come.” You call; only a breath before the oaken creaking reaches your ears - you’ve pushed your hair back, droplets of oiled bathwater cascading down your temple, over the edge of your chin, kissing the skin of your chest exposed with the loose robe you tie.

Perhaps you should better ensure your modesty - though by nightfall he will be yours, and you his. What difference does it make now, to let him see you?

Cregan’s frame is backlit by the corridor; a broad figure, ducked only slightly in such tall stature, shoulders brushing the stone sides of the frame - your eyes meet, though swiftly he averts his gaze, turning his head rather sharp as his chest shutters only slightly.

“My apologies.” His voice holds some tight restraint; you have no power to stop the warmth that spreads upon you at his tone, some hint of arousal at the drop in timbre. “I did not realize…” He trails off, lingering in the doorway - a glint of amber over his dark hair and you swallow a flustered giggle before it can escape your parted lips. “I will return when you are not occupied.” He decides.

You interrupt gently, shaking your head as your fingers press to your damp palms; an earnest hope he will not leave, now when he’s already here. “There’s no need to apologize,” you gesture to the table and chairs beside the hearth. “You may stay, Cregan. Please.”

His gaze does not return to you yet; palms, large and calloused with life and labor - you press your thighs together in a momentary weakness as your eyes trace over thick forearms that remove a thick fur cloak, dragging over veins which swim up skin kissed by afternoon light.

A quiet grunt when he sits himself in the chair, thighs spreading as his eyes finally meet your figure once more - gray as the clouded heavens, penetrating as you cross the room to follow him; how those eyes follow the trail of damp water droplets slipping beneath your robe’s loose collar - how they find the rivulets that slide down the bare of your thighs, dripping just slightly onto the stone beneath you. A heat in your cheeks, spreading low over your neck, chest - and lower more, as you find yourself before him, waiting for his eyes to flick up to your own.

Your chambers in Winterfell have always been much too large in your opinion, for just one woman - though they hold a most divine view of the Godswood; now, the room is impossibly small with the frame of him, silent, watching you slide into the chair across him.

“Does something trouble you, Cregan?” You wonder finally, searching the face drawn by a stern brow, how his jaw flexes at your question.

A half-shake of head; a beam of light once again has found his face, an ethereal sight of such a man softened by the wintered sun. He hums, “I came to…” He pauses momentarily, as though struggling to find his words; his eyes once more wavering as a bead of water slides down your damp leg. His eyes flick back to you, swallowing, “I came to ensure this marriage is not being forced upon you.”

A startle from you; though spoken with a lilt of care, such blunt words hit you rather suddenly, and your heart pangs. He does not see how you crave him, even after these last moons? How your cheeks grow hot under his attention, how your arm laces through his when he walks you to your chambers after meetings - how your lips seek his own in every darkened corridor you might scarcely find?

How you return your affections for him each time he murmurs them into your ear in solitude - how you have loved him since long before there was such a word?

“I’ve never been more certain of anything.” Your voice does not hesitate; neither does your heart. His eyes, so dark in the yards of Winterfell, so bright by light of your solitary quarters; though he does not respond for a brief moment, and in the silence you grow concerned.

“Cregan,” your voice is soft as you lean forward just so. “Do you want this?”

He blinks at that - daring to be surprised by the question - and for a moment, as his lips part, no sound comes out. The hesitation upon his breath strikes your heart; faint doubt lingers in your chest.

“I’ve thought about it long before the idea was brought to me.” He admits; a deep tone, eyes fixed upon yours as he murmurs. “Before it became a matter of duty,” his gaze is as steadfast as the words which fall from his pink lips, “I wanted you.”

The breath upon your lips hitch; a warmth that sprouts within your heart begins to spread, against the wide windows behind you, against the man who sits with knees nearly touching your own.

Tonight, you will meet him under the leaved arms of your ancestors; of those haunted, ancient spirits which call to you in the wind, who blow the Threnody through sharp ravines, who watch you with solemn edict. You will whisper words that have waited upon your tongue for years - he will drape his cloak upon you, and you will taste his faith when your lips find his own under the sight of the Old Gods.

Dark, his hair blows gently in the quiet of his breath - and perhaps struck by the sheer beauty of the North within him, that steadfast stare cooling the heat upon your skin - you rise from your chair.

His eyes, a hawk; they watch you, head tilting back as you rise to stand before him, your palm gracing his arm; a tinge of pink that creeps over his countenance, a low snowcloud over the breath of dawn upon his cheeks.

Under your palm are the thick muscles of his bicep; and a heat, one from his skin through the tunic, melting you just the same as his own breath catches. No hesitance from him at your boldness - instead a large, warm palm comes to cup the back of your thigh as you stand before him; and a thumb that traces over the goosepimples that grow at his touch.

A slide upwards and over his shoulder - your breath quiet, nearing labored as a rising growth of hunger stirs in you. Your eyes catch the armoire across the way, where you know your wedding gown awaits; the material gentle, lined with fur and coloured the refraction of cloud and snow - and wolves, silver and embossed with the darker patterns of your own house sigil.

The thought stokes your mounting desire for Cregan; your hand slides along the thick warmth of his neck, turning to cup his jaw. Rough stubble which catches on the soft of your palm when your thumb strokes his cheekbone; and eyes, those dark lashes, fluttering only slightly when he blinks up at you - silent, waiting.

You do not make your lord wait much longer.

“Cregan,” you whisper, eyes finding some wonderfully reflective taste of devotion laced through his own stormed gaze, and your breath falls with your confession. “I have long wanted you. I wish not to wait anymore.”

His chest moves with a breath - and in lieu of words, a calloused hand wraps around your spare hand, pulling it towards his own shoulder; guiding you.

With hot cheeks, you allow it - his breath is warm as it hits your cheek, though you gasp when his hands move once more with a gentle motion towards his lap.

You stumble slightly against his powered tug; knees, knocking together as you’re drawn upon his lap - and a small, breathy laugh from your lips. Some flutter of anticipation within you as his own hands come to steady you, taking in your flushed cheeks as he holds you firm atop him, steadying you with a hint of a smile ghosting his visage.

Gods - you’re close to him, now; closer than you have ever been. And his clothing, fine and smelling of sage, is warm against your robed figure - intoxicating.

“We need not wait much longer,” He murmurs now, “We’re to marry tonight.”

As if you’d not been aware - a smile grows on your face as you shake your head. “Yet it seems so very far away.” You sigh. His eyes do not waver; and in a passing moment, a bird calls outside.

Longing falls in puffs of breath from Cregan’s wanting lips; drank in and breathed back out by your own, you shift only slightly, feeling the stutter of his breath, how his chest brushes your own with each inhale.

You both simply stare - allowed, finally, to enjoy the arresting starkness of beauty laced through your veins and his own, that sturdy, hardy northern resolve that persists in the truest of souls.

Outside, there are preparations; household members prepare the hall - polishing the long trestle tables, setting goblets and trays. Cooks prepare a feast in the kitchens - garlands of evergreen and coltsfoot lifted to archways, Maester Kennet gathers texts and prepares the ceremony.

The skies are calm, low swirls of snow-caught breaths fluttering up and down when boots fall upon the ground. Outside, the sun bleeds its love unto the harder layer of snow fallen during the eve previous - and you will follow that path, that leads out to the Godswood tonight.

“You’ll have all of me soon enough,” He promises - and the tone; a deep stirring within you.

Your eyes fall to the man you’ve known for your better life; and still he watches you, hands firm and unyielding, gaze quite the same, melted only by the breaths that come from your lips and caress his own. Love, held in communal - that is what you feel when his hand slowly slides up the ridges of your spine, his chin tilting up to where yours begins to fall, as if called upon by the same spirits.

And slowly, shyly - as if you do not know Cregan as you know yourself, as if you do not know how he breathes, how he speaks, how he is - you lean forward.

His eyes flutter closed just as your own do, his fingers flexing against your waist.

The kiss that comes is nearly tentative; gentle as it is, it still shoots through you, a deep warmth and need when his mouth presses, a test against your own. Your fingers curl, of their own volition searching nape of neck, strands dark of hair.

His own hands, one sliding up your spine, thick arm circling you, pulling you into his orbit - and the other, resting where your hip meets the breath of thigh; a thumb, pressing just so into the divot, curling around the top of your backside, warm against the thin of your robe. Heat surrounds you when you pull away just a bit, your breaths mixing, eyes opening to flicker between each other.

And he pulls you back to him once more, a small hum in his throat when his lips slide to part against your own. Gods - you shiver, hands grasping the thick muscled frame of his shoulder and neck, shifting to press up into him, chasing that tingling chill of hunger.

Perhaps it is when you shift upon his lap once more, growing hot in your burgeoning desire - or perhaps when his tongue slides against your lip and you part them, coaxing him into you; he tenses, then, pulling back as muscles fall rigid under your hungry palms.

Your fingers trace the rapid beat of his heart beneath his skin. A teasing tug upon your lips, exhilarated at the blush that’s grown across his cheeks. “Have I made you nervous, Cregan?” your lips brush, tantalizing against his.

Cregan’s hand tightens slightly on your waist, the other reaching up to cup the side of your face; his palm dwarfs your visage, thumb brushing along your cheek before pressing against the soft flesh under your jaw, coaxing you to look up just so.

“No,” he says, though his voice has muffled itself as he brings his lips to the soft patch of skin against your throat, lips ghosting your own pounding heartbeat. Shivers of arousal through you; and a near growl as he hums, “though you have made me an impatient man.”

A thrill through you at his words - an admission rather echoed by your own sentiments, you nearly let out a small mewl at the aching desire gathering between your thighs.

And as his teeth scrape over the junction of your neck, you tug him gently back to look at you- a dark gaze, clouded by the anticipation of your coming union, of the coming night that will be spent within each other’s arms, finally. A sunbeam wintered and frosted across his chest and yours; they rise and fall together in your shared breaths of desire.

It’s hungry, eager when your lips once again find each other - noses sliding against each other, a sigh into your mouth. Cregan’s palms paw at your waist; and as you’re pulled tighter against his sturdy chest, the feel of his body hard beneath you sends a shiver of anticipation.

His hair is silken under your fingers; tugging gently as you deepen your embrace, Cregan lets out a short groan into your mouth. The sound vibrates through you - an ache of arousal that bleeds through each layer of skin, clothing, tissue that separates your soul from his own. His own grip grows rather impatient when your hips seek more of such a feeling; a raw, urgent indulgence, your mind reminds you there is still a wedding to be had - that you will need to prepare for it very soon.

The press of lips, a hot, open-mouthed trail down your jaw, your neck - and you gasp softly, your body arching into his palms. “Cregan,” your voice is a near whimper, some unspoken plea as you shift upon his lap once more.

A grunt, his lips pulling back from your flushed flesh - and a puff of air and a tightened grip to hold you against him as he murmurs.

“You test me, woman.”

It is a valiant effort on your part to resist a grin at the desperation laced through his breathy grunt - though you simply hum, smiling sharply. A thrill of need - breaths fall fast from your lips, spurred by the arousal that grows within his own dark stare. “Do I?” You wonder - and a stern look no more than teasing upon his visage, lips glossy with your previous kiss.

“Every day of my life.” He grunts, then - a low tremor of restraint that begins to break with a tempered softness he holds only for you. “You know what you do.” He murmurs upon your lips, large palms reaching the expanse of your back, tugging you into him.

With a flutter, you admit, “I do.” And how very close you are to giving in; to wait until this eve seems torture when you could simply ask him to take you right here, right now. A glance of heat between you and your soon to be husband - his breath falling upon your lips. “And do you know what you do, Cregan?” You wonder, a static of hunger spurring your hand to catch his wrist in your own grasp.

Eyes watch with hawkish interest when you guide his hand lower, lower - he drags his rough palm over the downy satin of your robe, swallowing thickly as you press his hand the the warm, damp skin of your upper thigh. His breath is hitched - perhaps given up on a response, or rendered unable to from the heat of your flesh upon his own.

A whisper of a curse, perhaps upon his lips - his eyes break from yours, the mountainous frame of his shoulders under your palm. It seems he has finished speaking with you - a tension has snapped, the final thread pulled; and though he teases you with a light kiss now, his fingers - they are not so patient.

A trail - one previously led by you as you’d tugged his palm to your thigh - is slow, achingly so as his fingers slip under the hem of your robe. Your breath hitches, now - and he, with a rumbled voice: “Tell me. Tell me what feels good.”

Shivers of arousal send your spine curling to seek his warmth; your hips buck just so, feeling the length of his own hunger press deliciously into you. “Cregan,” You can only murmur, and his head tilts just so. A tease - a gentle one at that, but still what you’d not expected; indeed it sends jolts of desire through your body when he hums, fingers digging just lightly into your thigh.

“Use your words, my lady,” His voice orders you, though there is some desperation in his wanting tone, “I’ll not move until you tell me what it is you desire.”

You've waited much too long for him to stop now, to duck and retreat merely from some pious embarrassment; and in your bout of shivered hunger, you groan. “Touch me, Cregan.” And, perhaps as a last-ditch hope he will indeed understand the extent of your desire, “I’ll do anything.”

A guttural sound escapes from Cregan's throat - the growl of a wolf, the howl of wind through a valley; and his lips brush over your jaw teasingly soft, as if savoring the power he’s found over you despite the strain of his own hunger. He says nothing, heeding rather quickly to your request.

Sharp gasps from you in succession when his thumb slowly presses over the pooled heat - a stolen breath or two before you let out a quiet moan, hips instinctively bucking into Cregan’s touch.

“Easy,” And his voice is no more than a whisper, some tender coaxing as his other hand steadies your hips, drawing you into the slow-burning torturous circles he draws with his finger. It is indeed a sensation you’ve tried to explore yourself on many restless nights in these very chambers - but his fingers sturdier, calloused, gentle - and his presence, warm and loving against the bright of day.

It is wholly too much and not enough at once, and when he shushes you gently against your lips, a shiver thrills down your spine.

Your hands grasp at his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as the pleasure slowly burns through you - his fingers explore you, your molten heat; and his lips press warm and insistent upon yours. A slip into the depths of him; some choice warranted only by breath of desire, by the knowledge that come this evening he will be your husband and you his wife.

His forehead falls against your own, breath uneven as you slowly buck your hips, letting his other hand guide you in a motion that sends pleasure curling around the tips of your fingers. “Wife.”

The word spurs you; with a jolt you whimper into him, voice breaking desperately as you keen into his large palm. Your lips find the thick column of his neck - a warm smell, saged and spiced; your teeth grazing along the beat of heart upon his throat, a grumble low in his chest.

“Husband,” You respond, though the word is strangled as one finger, dragging through your molten heat, prods at the entrance of you; with a gasp, you whimper, “please, please.”

He hums, shifting only slightly beneath you; a whimper from you as the heel of his hand presses deliciously onto your swollen bud, tensing your thighs as you swallow dryly.

“My sweet wife,” He repeats, brows drawn as his eyes rove over the exposed flesh revealed from your loose robe, “Tell me, how does this feel?”

Your eyes pitch back, hair tangling in his grip around your back as you shiver, his hand pressing into your cunt - “Good,” You respond pathetically, unable to formulate any semblance of reflection when you begin to see spots of pleasure in your vision; your fingers sliding to grasp at his neck, at his hair. “I’d- I’d like more,” Your face burns at the meekness of your own tone; only in the girlish fantasies, in dreams of Cregan climbing to share your bed under a heap of furs, have you allowed yourself to consider such things falling from his mouth.

A kiss to your throat, the nip of teeth gentle against your jaw. Perhaps, if you were any less enraptured with the thrill of his touch, you’d feel the small smirk that presses against your throat.

His breath is warm, though you nearly jolt as one finger presses slowly, languidly into you; you keen as he groans, feeling your tight warmth envelop him.

A very slow torment as he begins to move his fingers against you - you’ve grown rather speechless in pleasure. Eyes lidded, cheeks hot, lips parted as you watch him; and he nods smally, murmuring, “-Is this what you needed?”

A kiss to your lips, silencing any broken response that attempts to fall from your hungry mouth, fingers curling to fist his tunic as slowly, another finger joins his first.

His other hand, a strong grasp - he guides your hips in a slow roll that leaves you both breathless and gasping, your slow peak building after only a few moments.

Once again, his forehead falls against yours; the uneven stutter of his breath falls against your skin as he watches you intently, eyes gauging every sound you make, each furrow of your brow in pleasure as he takes you apart. “You mustn't-” You swallow, unused to your voice laced with such desperate pleasure, “-you mustn't dare stop,”

He dares to chuckle against your throat - a brief vibration as fingers press deeper into you, reaching the spot within that has your eyes rolling to the ceiling; you’re suddenly staring at him wide-eyed as his thumb finds your clit, and with a near whimper, you buck your hips.

And then he pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours - his thumb still lazily circles over you, pushing you closer to the precipice with every pulse of heat. His countenance is more gentle, though he watches your body keen into his touch with brows furrowed and a strong inhale.

“Tonight,” He murmurs, thumb stroking excruciating strokes over you, “I will take you as my wife, and you will take me as your husband.”

You’re nearing the very edge of bliss, muscles rigid, his voice low and thick as you buck against him. “We will finally have each other. Completely.” He promises, his stormed eyes never leaving yours. It mounts such pleasure; your eyes flicker to the armoire, wondering how he might use his strength later this evening to rid you of the gown’s intricacies; how his touch might burn you - how your touch might burn him.

How he might sound, as he finally pushes inside of you - taking you, as you’ve so yearned for him to; how you might one day be gifted by the Gods and swollen with his babe, round and glowing. How he might give you many children, and they will be rooted with the same fierce durability, same gentleness, the same love their parents have forged their whole lives.

Shivers down your spine as Cregan’s hand cants your jaw to face him once more, cradling your flushed cheek as his fingers take you apart so easily - so intimately, so knowing.

How could it ever be anybody else?

And that gentleness, so at odds with the raw need in his touch, so known by you - he, so known by you - each slow stroke of his fingers within you, dragging pleasure in waves. He says your name and it echoes in the pounding of your heart.

“Tonight, I will make certain that you feel all of me.”

You’re helpless at the pleasure he’s built - his thumb moves with a maddening precision as you clutch him, sage and pine and wildflowers and love; your lips part with a moan, the last threads of control loose.

“Do you wish for that?” he murmurs, thumb pressing down just slightly harder, sending a fresh wave of heat through you as you desperately try to stave off your crest if only in hopes he will never cease the words that fall from his honeyed lips. “Have you yearned for it, every night as I have?”

You are unable to respond as his words and ministrations bring you to your crest of pleasure, shuttering as your body bends into your peak. He grunts when your hand tugs at his tresses; though his hand does not cease as your cunt clenches around him, pleasure swirling and clouding your mind. “Yes,” you moan out finally, ecstasy pulsing through you as his lips trail over your jaw with jagged breaths.

His name, pressed from your lips into his heated skin as he guides you slowly through your wave. “Cregan,” You exhale breathlessly, lips pressing to his skin as you begin to fall from your peak, aftershocks tremoring through you.

His hand, leaving your hip to soothe up your spine - and an awakening of hunger when he presses you against the hard line of his own arousal; a shiver at the craving hunger it awakes within you.

Your legs have lost their tight rigidity; you are rather slumped within his grasp, the afterwave of your peak rendering you rather sensitive. His fingers slide out of you slowly, and you watch with parted lips as he brings his hand between your heaving chests.

A hunger rekindled when his fingers slide past his own lips, a grunt as he tastes you upon his tongue; and a whimper from yourself involuntary and helpless, unable to do anything more than pant in desire. He must see the hidden desire, as he grows merciful - with a slow motion he drags his thumb, to you - and slicked with yourself, over your bottom lip.

Your taste on your own tongue - earthy, mountain thyme and desire - sends a shiver of unknown desire through you - never in your darkest, impurest desires could you have imagined Cregan here, as he presses his thumb past your parted lips and upon the flat of your tongue. You stir against him and his breath hitches; a promise of the eve to come as he pulls his hand away from you.

It is upon his lap, with his arms around the bend of your spine, that you rest - within the heart of Winterfell’s castle come clangings, shouts of merriment as the beginning of the celebrations are set.

Your cheek upon his shoulder, his head against yours as you both relish the small bit of solitude you’ll have before you rejoin finally within your marital chambers this evening.

And, as it came, the day advances once more.

Your heartbeats have slowed, though his arousal is a present reminder pressed against the soft of your inner thigh; he presses his lips to your temple, emitting a reluctant sigh.

“I regret to leave you.”

You knew it would come; though you mind not, for in only a few hours, you will be with him once more.

“-but there are preparations yet to be made.” His fingers trace a gentle path along your neck - similar in devotion and exploration as the one you trail over his sturdy chest.

A playful thought crosses your mind as you consider him returning to his own chambers to prepare for your wedding: “Will you be shaving before the wedding, my Lord?”

Cregan's brow arches - perhaps at your use of his title or the question itself, as he inquires in response, “Would you prefer I do?”

You beam at him, cheeks heating in memory of the first time he’d asked you if you’d prefer he shave: No older than ten-and-four, when he’d returned from the Wall with his Lord father and you’d faked horror at the sight of the stubble gracing his young visage for the first time. He’d not listened to you then, though you were rather boisterous and impressionable as a young girl.

Much has changed.

“Yes,” You decide after a moment. He grins at you and it sends your heart into a race, his hand pulling your inner wrist up to his lips.

“Then it is done,” He decides, stubble tickling your soft skin as he presses a chaste kiss to your wrist. “I will call your handmaids back, if you wish.”

A gentle nod from you and he presses a kiss to your warm cheek, returning to his full height and setting your rather unstable legs onto the stone floor.

“I will see you this eve, my love.” he promises; your heart flutters at the term.

And after one last kiss to your knuckles, you watch him shut the oak doors of your chambers - the wind howls down the slopes outside, though Winterfell shines cold and unstirred. In the distance, the bleeding leaves of the heart tree shimmer, spreading a warmth through your chest as you slowly ease yourself back into the tub, waiting for the maidens to return and begin the preparations.

Birds chirp outside; there is already a new signet and silver wax prepared and sitting upon your desk - it boasts the sigil of the Direwolf. It is forever yours.

taglist/moots ; @softspiderling @cregan-starks @useralba @dipperscavern @benjinotes @earth4angels @nightfyres @astrxq @oldtowrs @ficlovegirlie @sanzuandmikey @dozcan123 @inkandarsenic @writtenapoiogy @vee-mage @xxselenite @cregnstark @princessvelaryon @princessbellecerise @hxtd @divinesolas @bucksplum @manhandlememando @housetargaryenloyalist @v3lary0ns

#idk what this was #sorry #cregan stark smut #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan x reader smut #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd smut

601 notes · View notes

subbmissivesuccubus · 11 months ago

Text

Bully Part 3

A/n: Happy new year/ New year's eve everyone! As promised, here is part 3. Thank you all for following and supporting me these last few months. Here's to a great year of smut ahead <3 <3 <3 I hope you enjoy your favorite pervy menaces <3

Disclaimer: Gojo X Geto X Fem!Reader. DUB-CON WARNING. READER ENJOYS WHAT’S HAPPENING TO HER BUT IT’S MESSY!!! Blackmail!!! Humiliation. Degradation. Free-use dynamics. Spankings. Public sex. Filming. Gojo gives a stranger permission to touch reader!!!

"Who knew the three of them were...well...like that." Utahime said, immediately gossiping once the taxi started to move. "I can't say I'm surprised though." Shoko said, "They're practically attached at the hip."

The girls and Nanami were sharing a cab to get back to their dorms, gossiping about what had happened during dinner. It was a fun night of drinks and banter, ended with their friend being kissed by Gojo and Geto. When asked about the nature of their relationship, the two men responded by saying they were…fuck buddies.

"She could do better." Utahime said, "I don't get why she's settling for those assholes."

Nanami looked out the window as he allowed the chatter to wash over him, not really paying attention. His mind couldn't help but go back to a week ago when he and Gojo were in class together, the only ones there and he noticed his lock screen...

"Gojo, what the fuck?" Nanami snarled as he looked at Gojo's phone, his screen flashing up as he received a message. There was a naked woman's photo set up as his lock screen, her face out of frame to accommodate her breasts and her spread legs and Nanami didn't want to even think about what was dripping out of them.

"Oh, my bad." Gojo said casually as he picked up his phone, "But she's hot right? She's my new fuck buddy~"

"Not interested." Nanami said, clicking his tongue in annoyance, "Just keep that shit to yourself. Why do you have that as your phone background?"

Before he got an answer, Geto and you walked into the room, asking them what they were talking about and when Gojo showed them the screen, Nanami noted your reaction. He didn't too much of it at the time, assuming your flustered and angered expression was over how vulgar Gojo was but now he wondered...

No. There's no way that was you, right?

Right?

~~~~~

"What the fuck was that?!" you screeched once Gojo closed the door of the taxi, smacking them both across the shoulders, "Why would you say shit like that?! Telling everyone we're fuck buddies- what will they think of me!?"

"It's the truth, right? Stop your bitching." Geto snarled on your left.

"Exactly. I'd rather you use your mouth for something else." Gojo said on your right, his fingers moving to tug at his pants, starting to undo his belt.

"Wh-What the fuck are you-" you sputtered, your eyes flickering over to the taxi driver who seemed to be paying you no mind but-

"Oh, don't worry about him. He works for my family." Gojo said, pulling his hard cock out of his pants before he tapped on the driver’s seat, "Hey, you don't mind if this whore sucks my cock back here, do you?"

You yelped at Gojo's words, face a bright red as you heard the taxi driver chuckle. "Enjoy yourself, boss." he said, not even looking back as he put up the divider, giving the three of them some privacy.

"There we go. Happy?" Gojo asked as he leaned back against the leather seat, his arm reaching up to grab you by the back of your head. You gasped as he gripped onto a handful of your hair and tugged harshly, his hold on your unrelenting as he started to pull your head down to his lap.

"Get to sucking."

~~~~~

Oh God.

You ran your hands through your hair, eyes wide as you went over what happened last night. You had hoped it was a dream but...it wasn't. You got fingered in the restaurant, got kissed in front of everybody by your bullies before said bullies announced that you were all fuck buddies.

They got you back to one of Gojo's penthouses, (the bastard so rich he had multiple houses he could just use whenever he wanted) and once you reached it, having sucked them both off in the taxi, they cleaned you up the best they could before the three of you passed out on the bed. You fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow, too drunk and loopy to do anything else.

Which is how you found yourself in between them, the two men still sleeping as you contemplated moving country and changing your identity.

To your right, Gojo groaned, his eyes pressing tightly as he fought away the need to wake up, moving from his back to his side and throwing an arm around you. You froze as he pressed himself close to you, nuzzling his nose against your neck. "Fuuuuck..." he cursed, frowning, "My head is killing me..."

"Don't make it our problem." Geto groaned, woken up by his own hangover and Gojo's whining. He looked over at you, taking your appearance in, looking quite delectable in Gojo's oversized t-shirt.

"Mmph- gimme those tits..." Geto said as he fisted the hem of your t-shirt before he pulled it up harshly, bunching it all underneath your chin. You gasped as he immediately leaned forward and took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue lapping at it a few times before he sealed his lips around it. A groan on content left his throat as he started suckling on you gently, truly using your boobs as stress relief for his hangover, the pressure at which he sucked your nipple increasing and decreasing at a slow pace.

"I-I hate you two." you said even as a hand came up to thread through Geto's hair, watching as he closed his eyes and suckled on you. It was honestly a bit soothing, feeling him suckle on you gently and not maul on your nipple the way they usually did. Gojo grunted as he too moved down your body and took your other breast into his mouth, sloppier than Geto but still suckling on you hard enough to make your toes curl.

"Oh God...people are going to think I’m a whore..." you lamented, tossing your head back and accepting your fate, fingers threading through their hair as they used your body. "It's accurate." Geto teased, giving your nipple a few kitten licks before going back to sucking. "Exactly. And who cares what they think." Gojo said, running his tongue over the plush of your breast, making your whole boob wet with his saliva, "You're our whore and that's all you'll be."

"Whatever." you said, not even having the energy to argue. You simply lied down, almost going back to sleep from the sensation of them gently nursing on you. But within five minutes, Gojo was bored.

"Come on, let's go take a shower." Gojo said, pushing himself up with a groan as he got off the bed, but not before grabbing your wrist. Geto growled as Gojo pulled at you, not appreciating being interrupted as he wrapped his arms around you and glared at his friend even as he continued to suckle.

"Don't look at me like that." Gojo said, sticking out his tongue, "You can take her after I play with her."

'Play with her' meant him taking you to the shower and running his hands all over your body like a pervert, squeezing your flesh and washing every nook and cranny as he ordered you to stay still. Sometimes he'd fuck you- other time's he'd simply jerk off and cum on you- always something new with Gojo.

Geto growled, making you shiver at the sensation around your sensitive bud before he pulled away with a pop, a hickey already forming on the fat of your breast.

"Let's all shower together." he said, sitting up as well, "We have a mission today and the principal will kill us if we're late."

Oh right. You were assigned a mission with these two menaces. And if it wasn't tough enough dealing with them before they started fucking you, you can only imagine the shit you're going to have to put up with now. You sighed as the two men grabbed you and lifted you off of the bed, taking the t-shirt off of you and smacking your ass before pushing you towards the bathroom for a very...thorough bath.

~~~~~

"What's with the face?" Geto asked, tapping his finger on his arm as he waited for Gojo to finish getting dressed, "Doesn't it fit?"

"This- I can't wear this! It’s too short!" you protested, tugging at the skirt...if you could even call it that. You were wearing the school uniform but instead of your usual pants, the boys had demanded you wear something else. A mini skirt. The skirt only reached your thighs, even the slightest movements threatening to flash your whole ass.

"Might as well give the curses something to ogle at before they die." Geto teased, looking you up and down, nodding his head in satisfaction.

"Fuck you! I'm not wearing this!" you said, pressing your legs together as you reached for your discarded pants. But before you could even touch the fabric, you felt a sharp pain on your behind, a slap so loud and hard that it made you yelp, the force pushing you face first onto the bed. You whipped your head around, face hot as Geto stood above you, pushing up the skirt a bit to marvel at the red handprint he left behind.

"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to." he said as he pulled his phone out, pointing the camera at you and you couldn't stop him from taking a picture, "But it would be a shame if I accidentally sent this to the schools group chat~"

"...I'll wear it."

"Smart girl." Geto said with a laugh, the sound making your ears heat up in embarrassment. It made you shiver, thinking about all the material they had on you. Pictures, videos, text messages... they continued to torment you and it didn't seem like they'd get bored anytime soon.

And neither would you.

"Get on your knees and keep your face down." Geto ordered, still pointing his phone at you while he used the other hand to push the skirt up entirely, bunching it at your waist and exposing your panties, "Shake your hips. Grind that ass on me."

You gasped as you felt him move forward and press his crotch against your ass, his hardening cock obvious even through the fabric. He started to gently dry hump you, a somewhat bored expression on his face, like it was a chore to use your body to get off. He landed another sharp spank on your butt, reminding you that he was waiting for you to follow orders.

You bit your lower lip, fisting the bed-sheet tightly as you did as he asked, wiggling your hips and shaking your butt against Geto, gasping as you felt him grow harder against you. As you continued to shake, the door opened and Gojo walked in, dressed in his uniform as well.

He whistled as he watched the two of you, noting the redness of your ass cheeks. "Was she being naughty?" he asked, taking Geto's phone from him and continuing to film, giving his friend free reign to humiliate you easier. "She tried to be." Geto said, reeling his hand back and spanking a cheek one more time before he grabbed your hips tightly, "But you know how she is. It's easy to put her in her place."

You yelped as Geto started to thrust against you, pushing his clothed erection against your clothed cunt as he dry humped you, the flesh of your butt rippling against him as he fake fucked you. Somehow, this felt more embarrassing than if he actually stuffed his cock inside you- it was like he couldn't be bothered to put in the effort but still wanted some pleasure.

He humped you a few times before he called it, pushing your hips away from him and making you collapse on the bed, your knees giving out as you panted against the bedsheet, face red hot with shame. You barely processed Gojo coming behind you, sliding his hand up your waist before he whisked your panties off, tugging them off of your legs before throwing them to the side. You were about to spread your legs, assuming the man was either going to eat you out or fuck you but he simply gave your butt a pat before saying:

"Get up. We gotta go."

"Wh-huh?" you babbled, watching as Gojo grabbed your skirt and pulled it down over your butt, the fabric barely covering you. You pushed yourself off of the bed and stood up, ears flushed as you once again were made aware of just how short the miniskirt was. All it took was for one small movement for anyone to see your privates. "Th-then why did you-"

"You thought being spanked was your punishment?" Gojo asked, a smirk on his face as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, "Nah. You don't get to wear panties."

"No- You can't!" you protested, pressing your hand between your legs, trying to pretend like your cunt wasn't gushing.

"Principal is asking if we've left yet." Geto said, interrupting the conversation, "I could send him a picture of you over Gojo's knee, getting your ass spanked and explain exactly why we're running late. Shall we do that?"

"...Let's go."

Gojo’s driver from last night was picking the three of you up and to your horror but not surprise, Gojo ordered you to sit in the passenger’s seat. You could feel the driver’s eyes on you as you tried to get into the car without flashing him, all decency thrown out the window as you practically covered your bare pussy with your hand as you sat down beside the stranger.

"Did you see her pussy?" Gojo asked once he settled down in the back, Geto beside him.

"I'm afraid not, Sir. She was covering herself." The driver confessed, quite expressionless.

"How rude. Hey," Gojo said, getting your attention as he tugged at your ear, "Spread your legs. Let him see your cunt."

You jumped, your ears ringing at his command, jaw dropping to the floor at the shameful demand. You pussy was already wet- "I- that's- I can't do that!"

"Either you spread your legs or I rip that skirt off and toss you out of the car. Your choice."

With a gulp, you took a deep, shaky breath, your heart hammering in your ears before you slowly started spreading your legs. You heard the driver’s breath hitch as your skirt bunched up, completely exposing your puffy pussy to him. He even leaned forward a bit to get a good look at you, making you close your eyes shut so you wouldn't have to see it.

You pressed your mouth close tightly so they wouldn't hear you moan.

"What do you think? Good pussy, right?" you heard Gojo ask, the other two men also leaning forward to look at you like they weren't more than familiar with your body.

"She's beautiful," the driver responded, "so puffy and cute~"

"Why don't you touch her a bit?"

You gasped, back arching off the seat as you immediately felt a hand on your pussy. Your eyes snapped open, watching as the driver had indeed slid his hand between your legs and was touching you. A total stranger was rubbing your cunt!

"She's so wet~" the man teased, a smile on his face as his fingers glided between your folds, the slick sound of your wetness echoing through the car, "Oh, she feels amazing."

"Doesn't she? She's a perfect little fuck toy~" Gojo said, biting his lower lip as he watched you get touched by the driver, a twinge of possessiveness popping up as he eventually ordered him to stop. The man immediately listened, pulling his hand away from your pussy before licking his fingers off your juices, the action making you moan in embarrassment.

"You know where to take us, right?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good. Get to it. And you," Gojo said, kicking your seat and getting your attention, "Keep your legs spread, got it? Give him something to look at while he drives."

After the long and awkward car ride where you kept your legs spread the whole time, the three of you were dropped off at your location (but not before the driver got to cop another feel). It was an abandoned location, decrepit and having a strong vibe of curses. The cursed energy was so strong it made your skin crawl and your teeth chatter. But you knew you had nothing to worry about. Not only were you strong, but you also had the two idiots with you who were labelled the strongest sorcerers.

It was strange that the curses were not the things that were making you nervous. You tried not to think about how you were used as a toy. As a plaything. As something they can give other people permission to use as they pleased. You couldn’t believe that just seconds ago- a random stranger had their hands on your most private part.

You tried not to think about how much you loved it. "Lead the way." Geto said, giving your butt a pat before you started walking. You didn't need to look behind you to know that they were taking pictures of you, Gojo one time practically putting the camera between your legs and taking an upward shot.

"Stop- I'm trying to focus!" you complained, pulling down the skirt as best as you could which you knew barely did anything.

"You'll only focus once you stop worrying about your outfit. It's just us here, after all." Geto said, "So flash that pussy and find the curse."

"I don't see you two doing any work." you said, cheeks red as you glared at them, "Find the curses, why don't you."

"Nah." Gojo said, idly scrolling through his phone, his glasses reflecting the photos he just took of you.

"The fuck you mean, nah?"

"It's your job to find and defeat the curses today." Geto explained, giving you a sly smile, "Do a good job and we might put in a good word with Yaga. Our recommendation means something, you know."

"...you guys are never that nice." you said, smelling a scheme, "what do you want?"

"We don't want anything." Gojo said, "And as long as you do as you're told, of course. Now push that skirt up and show me your ass."

You huffed, quickly realizing what this mission was going to be.

But hey, if you get a promotion through this...then perhaps you can stick it out.

You gripped your skirt and pulled it up, not having to do much as your peach butt got exposed. The two men laughed and whistled, getting enjoyment and more blackmail material: many pictures of you, in uniform, at a location of curses, flashing your butt. And this was only the beginning.

As you started tracking down the curse, your senses were on high alert and you gradually forgot about the skirt, the shiver you felt as you got in contact with the thick cursed energy making you decide that you needed to focus on the task as hand. You blocked out the two of them following behind you and you blocked out the sensation of your skirt riding up enough for your lower half to be almost bare. When you sprinted up the stairs, feeling a curse nearby, your skirt rode up completely and you only pulled it down once you reached the top.

In front of you was a curse, not a special grade but not weak either. It was a large, disgusting looking thing, oozing power but you knew it was not as strong as you.

"I'm guessing the two of you aren't going to help?" you asked, getting ready as the curse spotted you. "Nope." they responded, Gojo's phone out and pointing at you, taking a video, "all yours."

You didn't have time to respond as the curse suddenly lunged at you, dragging its disgusting body with surprising speed as it gained to attack. You sprinted around it, your body swift and deadly, understanding the way the curse worked in a matter of seconds. You countered every move with your own, slowly weakening it before you exorcised it, the curse dissipating in the wind.

"That was pretty decent, even for you." Geto said once Gojo stopped recording, "you didn't even let the fact that your whole pussy is out stop you from doing the job. Well done."

You looked down and sure enough, from all the running and the dodging and the fighting, your skirt had ridden up once more and your cunt was totally out in the open. You blushed and you quickly pulled the skirt back down, your ears turning red from the embarrassment.

"Fuck. I'm horny now." Gojo muttered as he pocketed his phone, "Hey, hands on the wall- I'm gonna fuck you."

"Wh-" you sputtered, blushing heavily, "But we're busy!"

"Geto can deal with it. My balls come first. Pun intended."

The black haired man rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his face as he said: "Fine. But I'm fucking her once I’m back so you better finish by then."

"No promises~"

Not caring about your response, Gojo walked upto you, gripping you by the back of your neck before he pushed you gently against the nearest wall, his other hand pulling your skirt up. Geto walked past the two of you, following the curse as he left you behind to get a pounding.

"Oh, you're so wet, you nasty bitch." Gojo snarked, grinning as he felt you up, his fingers sliding between your folds, "You loved walking around in this slutty little mini skirt, huh? Yeah, I know you loved it. Probably wanted us to fuck you this whole time."

"D-Don't flatter yourself!" you retorted, wincing as he pinched the plush of your butt before he changed your position a bit. "Mhmm. You're real fucking convincing. Now spread your legs. I want to fuck this nasty pussy."

Grabbing you by the hips, he made you bend forward, your palms against the wall and your ass presented to him. He continued to play with your pussy, two fingers easily sliding inside of you while his other hand got to work on his pants. He simply slid them down enough for his cock to pop out, hard, throbbing and leaking pre-cum from the red tip. He tapped it against your ass, staining your skin with his fluid before he took his finger out and pressed the tip against your cunt.

He didn't care for foreplay and he didn't care if you felt good. He was here to fuck and that's what he was going to do. And you were going to take it.

"Oh yeah, that's a good pussy~" he groaned as he started pushing inside of you, his cockhead popping into you easily from how wet and dripping you were. You hated to admit it but running and around and flashing your privates had gotten you hot and bothered, even if you were just exposing yourself to the two men who were more than familiar with your body.

You gasped as he continued to bully his cock inside you, eventually bottoming out and spreading your cunt so deliciously wide. His groans were audible through the empty hallways, both his hands now grasping your hips greedily. With a lick of his lips and no warning, the man started to thrust, starting off a bit slow. Your moans jumped with each thrust, your ass rippling against his hips each time he fucked his cock deep, deep inside you.

Despite the many times you've gotten thoroughly pounded by Gojo, you simply can't seem to get used to his size. His cock was deliciously long and thick and each thrust in had his leaking cockhead pressed up against your womb. You slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises on instinct, slick dripping down your legs and staining the floor.

"Fuuuuck- I'm addicted to this free use pussy!" Gojo growled as he not so gently smacked your ass, laughing at your squeal, "Bend you over and fuck you anytime- claim you as my personal whore. I fucking love it!"

“Shut the fuck u-u-upppp!” you squealed, his cock curving just right and bumping against your special spot, a rush of pleasure sparking through your spine. Gojo simply spanked you again before he used that hand to grab your hair, pulling at it roughly. You gasped as your head was pulled back, the pain of your hair being tugged at addicting.

“I felt your pussy tighten, bitch~” Gojo snarled with a smirk, “You love being bullied by us so much- it’s so pathetic and I love it.”

“You’re pathe- ohhh right there- right there!”

“Yeah? Here? Little bitch likes it when my cocks hits her right here?”

Gojo angled his hips so he hit your g-spot with every thrust forward, the clap of his hips against your butt practically echoing through the hallway. You couldn’t hold back your moans, little ‘uh-uh-uh’s leaving you as he pounded your cunt like a toy. You didn’t know how long the two of you were there for, fucking in the open, in the middle of the abandoned building. You were so focused on the pleasure that you didn’t notice the pressure of the curses suddenly disappear.

“Are you done yet? It’s my turn to cream her cunt.”

You groaned as Geto walked over to the two of you, wiping his mouth.

“I still got the taste of a curse on my tongue. I’d like to wash it down with her pussy.”

“Fuck- wait for a bit.” Gojo said, panting heavily, sweat marring his brow, “I’m almost done.”

“Nope. I’m not waiting.” Geto said, punching Gojo in the shoulder and ruining his rhythm, “Plus, there’s another curse that needs killing and I’m pretty sure it’s your turn.”

“You want- fuck-“ Gojo cursed, stilling inside you to give Geto a look, “You want me to fight a curse with a hardon?”

“Well, she fought one with her pussy out so I’m sure you can manage.”

Gojo sighed, rolling his eyes before he conceded, “Fine, fine. But you owe me one.”

“I do not. Now get going.” Gojo pulled out of you, the slick sound of it making your body shiver as his erect cock stood tall, covered in your juices. He tucked himself back in his pants the best he could, his dick still straining against his pants as he quickly walked away, a determined look in his eyes. He wanted to finish off this final curse as soon as he could so he could get back to destroying your pussy.

Before you could even blink, a bit dazed from the lack of pleasure, Geto was on his knees behind you, his hands gripping your asscheeks before he pulled them apart and surged forward. Blood rushed upto your cheeks so fast you felt dizzy as Geto stuffed his face between your cheeks. He groaned as he rubbed his face on you for a bit, enjoying the feeling of your soft flesh against him like a pervert before he stuck his tongue out and got to licking. He took a long, greedy lick from your clit all the way upto your asshole, teasing your rim before slightly sticking his tongue inside.

Your body shivered, little gasps leaving your mouth at his shameless actions, the man starting to eat you out like a messy meal. He clearly didn't care if you felt good, his movements sloppier than usual, and obviously just wanted a taste. But that didn't stop your body from responding to him, your hips subconsciously pushing out in a silent plea for more, your pussy dripping. He lapped up your juices, drinking you down with a groan as his hands continued to squeeze and pinch at your cheeks.

“Fucking- perfect.” He moaned against you, his words vibrating your clit and making your knees shake, “Just what I needed.”

With a final, toe-curling suck to your clit, he stood up, ordering you to turn around and face him as he started undoing his pants. Your back was pressed against the wall, Geto standing close enough for your chests to almost touch. “Take your top off. Get naked for me.” He groaned as he fished his dick out, giving it a few tugs as he eyed you down like you were a piece of meat. You gulped, heart beating fast in your chest as you hurriedly started to unbutton your blouse, trying to pretend like you weren’t eager.

If they knew just how needy you felt…

Geto suddenly grabbed you by the waist once your buttons were undone before he lifted you up like you weighed nothing. You yelped as he slammed you tightly against the wall, feeling his cock throb against your eager cunt as your legs wrapped around his waist. He grabbed onto the cup of your bra before pulling the right one down, exposing that nipple. He bent down and took it into his mouth, the man clearly having an obsession with your tits as he started suckling.

His eyelashes tickled your skin as he ran his tongue over your sensitive bud, giving it a few flicks with the tip before sealing his lips around it and giving it a toe-curling suck. As he suckled, his other hand slid down and grabbed his cock, tapping it a few times against your pussy before he slid in, the glide easy thanks to Gojo’s previous pounding.

“Ah- fuck-yes-“ you gasped out, unable to hold yourself back, briefly registering that all traces of curses had disappeared in an instant, Gojo having finished the job. It was only a matter of time before he rushes to the two of you, demanding to be back inside you.

This was what you were expected to do for them. Be a pair of spread legs for them to use whenever they want- to be fucked silly- to be bred- to be truly and utterly degraded. Maybe Gojo would make you suck his cock. Maybe the two of them would swap places. Or maybe they’d finally fuck your ass.

From the corner of your eye, your vision blurry thanks to the tears from how harshly Geto was pounding into you, you could see someone hurriedly walk towards you, unbuttoning his pants along the way and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh among your moans.

Today was going to be a long day.

~~~~~

#subby writes #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu geto #gojo x reader x geto #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #geto suguru smut #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru

1K notes · View notes

steddiealltheway · 1 year ago

Text

I just BARELY made the deadline in my time zone, but I did it! This is for Lex's Summer Challenge, Dialogue prompt #25 :) Thank you @thefreakandthehair for organizing this!! <3

It's New Year's Eve, and Steve is not excited.

The kids have all mostly agreed to stay together, setting off fireworks at the Wheeler's house. Robin has a band thing, meaning she will try to cozy up with Vickie but chicken out before the New Year's kiss. And Steve... he plans on checking in on Max who hasn't confirmed if she is going to Mike's.

Things have been rough for her since Billy passed only a few months ago. She hates the trailer she had to move to, and as far as Steve can tell, her mom isn't around much. And if she is, she isn't sober.

The worst thing is that Max doesn't open up to anyone, but there isn't much Steve can do about that. What he can do is drive to her place and bring her dinner.

He goes about making her way too much spaghetti and makes the drive over. The sun is starting to go down, but he just hopes he can make it home in time to put on headphones and pass out before people start celebrating the new year.

He just doesn't want to make it anyone else's problem that he no longer likes the look or sound of fireworks – flashes triggering migraines and memories of Russian torture – so he's put a plan in place. Luckily, everyone should be too busy with New Year's celebrations to pay him any attention.

He pulls up to Max's trailer and parks outside, walking up to the door and knocking quickly. He waits a few seconds, listening for the sound of footsteps coming to the door, but they don't come. He pulls his jacket a little tighter around himself, shifts the tub of spaghetti from his left side to the right, and knocks again.

After waiting a few minutes, Steve turns and notices the sun is now on the horizon.

He glances around the trailer park, cursing himself for not bringing his walkie. His eyes land on a van at the trailer across the way that looks somewhat familiar. He notes that there are no negative thoughts that accompany looking at it, but rather, he feels a bit indifferent to it.

He starts walking that way, hoping he knows the owner, and further hoping that they're nice enough to let him use their phone. He walks up the steps and knocks before stepping down.

Luckily, this time he hears the sound of footsteps from inside and a bit of muffled cursing before the door swings open.

Oh. That's how he knows the van.

Eddie Munson looks down at him, totally bewildered, and shifts uncomfortably, eyes flickering toward the spaghetti while asking, "What are you doing here?" Before he can answer, Munson gets a look of realization and answers himself, "Right, my great supply."

"No," Steve says quickly. "I just need to use your phone."

Munson quickly stiffens again. "Why?"

Steve sighs and shifts the tub again which has started to feel heavier with every passing moment. "My friend lives over there," he says, throwing his thumb over his shoulder, "And I need to check if she's okay."

"No way," Munson says, hands coming up before he crosses his arms, "No way I'm letting you use my phone to call some hookup."

"It's not a hookup. She's in middle school."

"What?" Eddie asks, looking even more horrified.

"Not like that!" Steve says and runs his free hand through his hair. "She's friends with a group of kids that I babysit."

"And why do you want to call her?"

Christ. "Because I'm worried about her, okay? She's not someone who asks for help, and she's not answering the door. I just need to know if she's safe at her friend's house."

Eddie stares at him for a few more seconds then asks, "What’s the spaghetti for?"

"Her."

He's fixed with the same suspicious stare until Eddie finally nods his head and opens the door for Steve to come inside. Eddie gestures to where the phone is and leans back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms and watching his every move.

Steve tries to shrug it off as he dials the Wheelers and waits for one of them to answer.

"Hello?"

Steve smiles and politely replies, "Hi, Mrs. Wheeler, it's Steve."

"Oh, Nancy is currently-"

"No, no," Steve cuts her off, seeing the way that Eddie is starting to tense up. "I wasn't calling about Nancy. I was just wondering if Max was there with the other kids. I stopped by to check on her, but she didn't answer the door."

Steve can feel his heart thud in his chest as he waits for the reply. "That's very kind of you. But she's with the boys right now. Did you want me to pass a message to her?"

"No," Steve says in relief. "No, I just wanted to make sure she was okay. Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year, Steve," she replies and hangs up.

Steve puts the phone back and turns to Eddie. "Thanks, man. I owe you one."

Eddie tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes. "Why do you care about her so much?"

Steve sighs and gestures toward the counter with the container of spaghetti in hand. "Can I?" Eddie nods in response, so Steve sets it down. He runs a hand through his hair and asks, "Do you remember Billy Hargrove?"

Eddie scoffs, "Like I could forget the asshole."

Steve nods. "Well, Max was his step-sister."

"Oh," Eddie says, shifting uncomfortably.

Steve shrugs. "They didn't have the greatest relationship, but she's been really closed off since...” he trails off uncomfortably, trying not to remember the moment he died.

Eddie nods his head. “Right.”

Steve nods back and gestures toward the spaghetti, changing the subject. “You can have that by the way as a thank you for letting me use your phone. I really appreciate it. And hey, Happy New Year.”

Eddie’s jaw drops slightly as if he wants to say something but none of the words come out. So, Steve walks to the front door and opens it. He doesn’t even move a step down the stairs before a big firework lights up the sky as the loud noise rings out.

Steve freezes. He feels his breathing getting shaky and shallow as he remembers the fireworks exploding on that spider looking thing’s back.

He closes his eyes tight, trying to fend off the images, but the darkness only reminds him of the black that slowly devoured his vision when the Russians knocked him out.

“Hey, hey,” a soft voice says, “I’ve got you.”

Steve notices the way he’s somehow on the ground with his back pressed against something warm and that same heat wraps around his torso. He blinks back into reality a bit as warm hands run up and down his arms slowly. “You okay?”

Steve sinks back into Eddie’s arms and closes his eyes. "Fireworks aren't exactly... my favorite thing."

Eddie breathes out sharply through his nose. “Yeah, I kind of picked up on that.”

Steve just nods, allowing himself to be comforted for a few seconds before he tenses up and begins to stand up. “Sorry,” he apologies as he makes his way back to the front door. “Don’t know what got into me.”

He puts his hand on the door handle, moving his body to block Eddie’s view from his shaking hand.

“Hey,” Eddie says close behind him, “Just stay until the fireworks stop. I don’t want you driving into my trailer on the way out or something.”

Steve turns and asks, “Are you sure?”

Eddie nods and gestures to the container. “Plus, there’s no way I can eat this whole thing on my own.”

Steve is about to say that he’ll be fine when another firework goes off outside, startling him again. “Okay,” he agrees, wondering how the hell this is going to end up. Steve “The Hair” Harrington and Eddie “The Freak” Munson spending New Years together.

Eddie hands Steve the container and grabs two bowls and forks before walking off. Steve follows behind him to what he assumes to be Eddie’s room, slightly confused about the change in scenery.

“Sorry it’s a mess. I wasn’t expecting visitors,” Eddie says awkwardly shoving things around.

Steve just smiles as he looks at the room. “I like it. It feels comfortable,” he confesses. And it does. With the way his parents force him to keep a spotless room that never feels lived in, it’s nice to be in a bedroom that really reflects someone.

Eddie considers him for a moment and just nods as he takes the container and sets it on his dresser alongside the bowls before pointing at his stack of tapes. “I’m going to guess our music taste isn’t really similar, but feel free to dig through for something you might like that’ll drown out the fireworks.”

Steve’s heart skips a beat at the thoughtfulness before he makes his way to the tapes, digging through several unfamiliar names that he kind of wants to ask about, but instead he can’t help but ask, “So, what are you doing alone on New Years?”

Eddie scoops himself a generous amount of pasta as he answers, “Gareth is at a school thing, Jeff is with his family in New York, and Grant’s parents kind of don’t like me.”

“Why’s that?”

Eddie fixes Steve with a look. “I’m not exactly ‘meet the parents’ material, and it doesn’t help that I used to hold band practice in his garage and would play louder whenever they told us to quiet down.”

Steve smiles. “I would love for you to do that to my parents. God, they would be so pissed.” He grabs another tape and instantly smiles and holds it up to Eddie. “I love Queen.” He immediately puts it into the cassette player and turns the volume up enough to block out additional noise while still being able to hear Eddie talk.

He turns and finds Eddie handing him a bowl and fork with a soft smile on his face, “You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks.

Eddie nods and sits cross legged on his mattress. “Honestly, I thought you’d be an asshole. You know. King Steve and all that shit.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair as he sits next to him. “I don’t think I’m ever going to live that down.”

“You will if you get out of Hawkins,” Eddie says, shoveling a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth.

Steve twirls his pasta and stares at it. “I don’t know if I’ll ever leave here,” he confesses.

“Why not?”

“I’m not smart enough to make a living somewhere else. Plus, if I move, my parents likely won’t support me – my dad likes keeping me under his thumb. And the kids need me to drive them around.” And they need him in case Hawkins gets another dose of Hell, but he can’t tell Eddie that. “Plus, I don’t think there’s anywhere that would accept me, a former jock and asshole whose only friends are children and Robin. And they’re all so smart that they’ll eventually realize they’re dumb for keeping me around.” He stabs at his spaghetti before putting the bowl down and resting his head in his hands. “I don’t know, man.”

There’s a pause, and Steve hears a dull thud from a firework outside the trailer even over the music that startles him a bit. It’s so damn annoying that something small like this can reduce him to this.

“Run away with me.”

Steve head slowly comes up. “What?”

Eddie wipes his mouth and sets his bowl on his side table. “Run away with me,” he repeats. “After I graduate, I’m going to run like hell out of here. Come with me to find a place that accepts a former jock and a...” he trails off and looks away nervously. “Uh, a freak,” he awkwardly fills in.

The bowl in Steve’s hand suddenly feels like it’s in the way, so he sets it on the floor before turning to Eddie and leaning closer to him, hands itching to reach out. “Come on, you can tell me what you were really going to say.”

Eddie searches his eyes before laying back on his bed dramatically, trailing his hands over his face. “You know what I was going to say. You’ve heard the rumors. Everyone has.”

Steve has heard several rumors about Eddie, including one about how he worships the devil and does satanic rituals on top of his trailer in the middle of the night. But he has a feeling he knows which rumor he’s talking about. “Yeah, but rumors are rumors for a reason. You never know which ones are true.”

Eddie sighs and looks up at Steve. He looks like he’s on the verge of telling him before he asks, “So, why aren’t you with your friends tonight? The kids or Robin.”

He looks down at Eddie for a few moments, wondering if he’ll drop the question, but he holds his ground. Steve shrugs. “Robin is at the thing with all the band kids, chickening out with her crush, and the kids don’t want their babysitter around. Plus, they want to launch fireworks or play Dungeons and Dragons or something.”

Eddie perks up and sits up on his elbows. “Dungeons and Dragons? The kids you babysit play that?”

“Yeah. And don’t make fun of them for it. They talk about it all the time, and I think it sounds cool,” Steve says, always quick to defend Dustin even if he’s into weird nerdy shit.

Eddie sits up entirely and looks at Steve excitedly. “You think Dungeons and Dragons is cool?” he asks in disbelief.

Steve shrugs in response. “It’s not really my thing, but yeah.”

“Dude, I’m the leader of Hellfire. You know, the Dungeons and Dragons club at school? What are the kids' names?”

“Dustin, Lucas, and Mike.”

Eddie bounces up and down excitedly. “Holy shit, I thought Dustin was kidding when he said he was friends with you.”

It suddenly clicks, Dustin had mentioned Eddie’s name before, but Steve had never really thought about it as Eddie Munson of all people. “Shit, Dustin talks about you all the time, I just never connected the dots.”

“He doesn’t shut up about you. The kid adores you. He’d kill me if I took you away from here.”

“And he’d kill you if you ever left.”

Eddie smiles and nudges Steve. “Looks like we’re both stuck here.”

Steve smiles back at him, eyes tracing over Eddie’s face. He’s not sure why he’s never really noticed him before. He guesses he’s always been so stuck in his own shit that Eddie just kind of passed him by somehow. But he’s finally noticing his dimples, and the way his eyes are so deeply brown and easy to get lost in, and his lips looks so full and-

Eddie lightly shoves him back, a pink blush appearing on his cheeks, “Eat your spaghetti before it gets cold.”

Steve grabs his bowl and does as he’s told, watching as Eddie gets up to turn up the music a little louder. When he sits back on the bed, the two eat in comfortable silence, letting the music fill the space. Steve’s not sure if he’s ever been able to warm up to someone so quickly, but it makes sense that he’d be able to bond with someone who loves Dustin.

The song ends and goes into the next. Steve finishes his last bite of spaghetti and laughs as “Somebody to Love” starts playing. He puts his bowl down and lays back on the bed, letting the song wash over him. He sings the lyrics under his breath until he hears Eddie doing the same thing and turns to look up at him. They lock eyes just in time to sing, “Can anybody find me somebody to love?”

Eddie laughs and lays next to him joining him through the rest of the song. Steve feels ridiculous, but Eddie makes a show of playing air guitar, yelling, “I know how to play this!” Steve just laughs and watches him, feeling his heart beat a little faster in a way it hasn’t for somebody else in a while.

He sings the rest of the song, mainly focusing on Eddie and the way he so easily gives into the music, unafraid of what Steve might think. As it comes to an end, Steve feels something shift inside him, but Eddie is quick to laugh, “Steve Harrington how can you be struggling to find somebody to love?”

Steve smiles sadly. “I think I’ve been looking in the wrong place all along, but I’ve been starting to think that maybe I’m unlovable.”

Eddie scoffs and moves closer to him. “If you think you’re unlovable then there’s no hope for the rest of us.”

Steve has to move closer to hear him over the music and talk without shouting. “Does that include you?”

“What do you think?” Eddie asks, tilting his head with a curious smile.

“I think,” Steve starts, unsure of how he’s going to finish the sentence, “If there’s no hope for you either, then maybe...”

“Maybe?” Eddie prompts.

Steve’s eyes glance down at Eddie’s lips. “Maybe...” He looks up at Eddie’s eyes, seeing the confusion, slight fear, and hope. “Maybe you should finish what you were going to say earlier.”

“Steve...” Eddie says, “You can’t be asking me...”

“Then, I’ll ask you. Is it midnight yet?”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Not even close.”

“What if I lie and say that it is so I can ask you for a New Years kiss?” Steve asks boldly.

Eddie’s breath hitches. “Then, I’d say yes and start counting down from ten.”

“Nine,” Steve says immediately.

“Eight,” Eddie replies, shifting onto his knees.

“Seven.” Steve scoots closer, leaning in to brush their noses together.

“Six,” Eddie exhales.

“Five.” Steve’s hands come up to hold onto the back of Eddie’s head.

“Four.” Eddie’s hands press into Steve’s back to bring him closer.

“Three.” Steve tilts his head, already brushing his lips against Eddie’s, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Two,” Eddie whispers, hands gripping on tighter, left hand tracing up between his shoulders to slot their torsos together.

“One,” Steve says, barely finishing the word as he presses his lips against Eddie’s, finally ending the longest countdown of his life.

He deepens the kiss immediately, tasting spaghetti and a hint of something that is purely Eddie which he finds entirely intoxicating.

The music fades from one song into the next, and Steve’s pretty sure a firework goes off in the silence, but he’s too distracted by Eddie to really respond to it. He feels Eddie’s arms tighten around him, slowly guiding him down to lay back on the bed.

Eddie breaks the kiss to look down at Steve. “This okay?” he asks.

Steve nods and says, “Happy New Year.”

Eddie smiles and shakes his head in disbelief. “Happy fucking New Year.”

He finally understands why people cheesily talk about fireworks going off during a kiss. And maybe even with everything, fireworks aren’t too bad if this is what he can associate them with.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #lexssummerfanworkschallenge

2K notes · View notes

ilypaigebuckets · 6 months ago

Text

i’m listening to ts rn so u guys are getting this 😇 hope you like it i think we need more cc fluff

plot: it’s the morning after a new year’s eve party with the team, hosted at your and caitlin’s apartment. you guys are cleaning up and caitlin tells you how grateful she is for you.

New Year’s Day - Caitlin Clark x Reader

15. 14. 13. 12. 11.…the entirety of the Iowa women’s basketball team watched the tv waiting in anticipation for the ball on the screen to drop, signifying the new year. You were in your junior year at Iowa, and had loved it thus far. While watching the clock your mind wandered to all the things that had happened that year.

10. 9. 8… Women’s college basketball’s popularity had grown exponentially, and so had your team’s success. You had gotten closer with your teammates.

7. 6… You’d injured your knee and had to be out for almost a month, but you had a great support system behind you.

5. 4… You looked next to you and there she was. Your favorite thing that happened to you all year; your girlfriend, Caitlin Clark. She had been your teammate all throughout your college career, but the two of you had only started to explore the romantic tension that lingered between the two of you this past year. It was the best thing you’d ever done. Caitlin noticed your eyes on her and stared back at you. She smirked and wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“See something you like?” You rolled your eyes are your overly-cocky girlfriend, but leaned into her touch. You were still staring at her, and she was staring back. Her smile took you to another planet. It was almost like time froze and nobody else was there. Nobody else mattered when you locked eyes with her. It was you and her against the world. Alas, the noise grew louder the lower the numbers counted down to. Before you knew it everyone was chanting, “3! 2! 1!”

“Happy New Year!” Everyone cheered as the ball on the glowing television dropped. You grabbed the side of Caitlin’s face and turned it back to you, colliding your lips together. It was a sweet, but passionate kiss that definitely lasted a little longer than appropriate for a public setting. When you finally released her face from your grasp she looked at you stunned.

“What?” You looked at her with doe eyes, “I thought that’s what couples were supposed to do on New Year’s?” Caitlin smiled at you and pulled you closer to her, at a loss for words. She had definitely hit the jackpot. Soon enough, everyone said their ‘goodbyes’ and goodnights’ and you and Caitlin were left alone in your apartment. You looked over and her fondly, then looked back at the mess on the floor and grimaced. There were beer cans, bottles, confetti, anything you could imagine it was on your floor. You started to groan at the thought of having to pick it all up and Caitlin pulled you into her chest, resting her chin on top of her head.

“Let’s go to bed baby, we can clean up in the morning,” and just like that, she was leading you to your bedroom.

—

The next morning you woke up in Caitlin’s arms, just like usual. The light peered in throw the blinds in rays that accentuated the green in her eyes. You buried your head into her neck trying to avoid looking directly into the light and breathed in the faint smell of her perfume she wore last night. Caitlin stirred and held you even tighter.

Since it was the first day of the new year, you wanted to start things off on the right foot. You got out of bed and got ready, throwing on some sweatpants and one of your girlfriend’s hoodies, then headed to the kitchen to make the two of you some breakfast. Caitlin followed suit closely behind you, and after breakfast you got to work picking up the remains of last night’s party.

You swept glitter off the floor while Caitlin started picking up bottles. Every once in a while, Caitlin stole glances at you. Everytime Caitlin wasn’t looking at you, you were stealing glances at her. You walked past Caitlin on your way to dump the glitter in the trash and brushed past her arm, desperate for her touch. Feeling sentimental after thinking about how grateful you were for everything that happened in the part year, you walked back to where she was and rubbed her arm. You looked down and saw she had a polaroid in her hand. After further inspection, you saw it was the two of you mid-kiss. She turned to you, “this is so cute, Y/n, who took it?” You simply shrugged. You had no idea, but it sure was cute!

“Cait I-“

“I love you so much babe. I’m so happy I get to go into another year with you!” She cut you off, but it was okay because she was adorable and what you had to say was pretty much exactly what she said. You wrapped your arms around her neck, holding onto your memories and onto her. You pecked her on the lips, leaving her wanted more. “That better not be the last New Year’s kiss I ever get from you.” She laughed and kissed your forehead, “trust me, it was the first of many. Wanna take a break? You know my resolution was actually to spend some more quality time with you this year!” She winked and you knew exactly what she meant.

#wlw post #iowa wbb #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x oc #iowa hawkeyes #iowa women’s basketball #indiana fever x reader

144 notes · View notes

adrienneleclerc · 5 months ago

Note

Do you think you can do a Lewis Hamilton imagine

When Y/N is at a New Year's party because her friend dragged her along and she just got out of a really long relationship and Lewis is also there and he sees her across the room all sad and alone so he walks up behind her and grabs her shoulders turn her around and kisses her and walks away without saying nothing and she doesn't know Lewis is a driver and Lewis doesn't know that she's a famous photographer and they meet maybe a few years later or later month whatever you want to do and F1 gives her a job to be a photographer for them

Oh and I want a cute fluffy ending if you can do that thank you so much xoxo

Oh and can you make Y/N Mexican

As a Mexican myself, a Mexican Y/N should be easy to write, sorry it took me so long to write this. My wifi went out when I tried to save this. I don’t know if this is what you had in mind but I hope you like it!

Once Upon a Kiss

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Mexican!Reader

Summary: Famous photographer, Y/N L/N, and Formula 1 driver, Lewis Hamilton, kiss at a New Year’s Eve party without knowing anything about the other. Their paths cross once again when Y/N is hired as Ferrari’s new photographer.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: MY FIRST LEWIS HAMILTON FANFIC TO CELEBRATE HIS HOME RACE WIN!!! Also I do mention a stereotype where Puerto Rican men are trash

Y/N was in her apartment watching her favorite movie and eating ice cream in a Stitch onesie. She then heard the door open, her friend Ofelia entered the apartment with takeout.

“No, no, uh uh, there’s no way in hell you’re eating ice cream right now, I got us Chinese food.” Ofelia said.

“Great, put it on the counter,” Y/N mumbled.

“Why are you in a stitch onesie? It’s only 8pm.” Ofelia said.

“Because I wanted to. Did you get the chicken wings and pork fried rice plus my chicken broccoli and white rice?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, why do you need 2 orders?” Ofelia asked.

“One for today, the other for tomorrow, obviously.” Y/N said.

“Anyway, we have a party later tonight.” Ofelia said.

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Y/N asked pointing between them.

“You and me, we’re getting super dressed up and going to a rooftop party.” Ofelia said.

“Who’s hosting?” Y/N asked.

“I Don’t know, a friend of a friend of a friend.” Ofelia said,

“We’re going to a rooftop party in New York City in the middle of winter?” Y/N asked.

“They have those heating lamp thingies. Come on, it’ll be fun, take your mind off of Derek.” Ofelia said.

“Don’t mention Derek.” Y/N groaned, opening up her takeout container to start eating.

“You see, I haven’t to mention it because you can’t stop thinking about him.” Ofelia said.

“De que hablas? I haven’t thought about ese cabrón mal parido in a minute.” Y/N said. Ofelia silently counted down from 3. “The audacity ese hijo de su madre had to cheat on me.”

“I mean what did you expect, Y/N, he’s Puerto Rican.” Ofelia said.

“But we’ve been together for 8 years, I just don't undertsand what i did wrong." Y/N said.

“No, no, no, no, you did absolutely nothing wrong, guys like him only cvare about getting their dick wet, thats it. Anyway, eat and then get dressed. Actually shower first, outfit, hair, makeup, that party is gonna be amazing! Apparently the guy who’s hosting lives in a penthouse.” Ofelia said.

"Sounds fun." Y/N said.

"I've also been sending your portfolio to my bosses..." Ofelia started

"Lia, don't. I told you i was going to look for photography work myself." Y/N said.

"But everyone is DYING to work with you, imagine taking photos for Elle, Cosmo, Vanity Fair, they love your work." Ofelia said.

"What if I want to work somewhere else, outside of New York?" Y/N asked.

"I can live with that, just please don't go to Jersey." Ofelia said (sorry if you live in New Jersey, its just a very New York thing to shit on Jersey)

"Deal." Y/N said.

Hours later, Y/N was showered, hair was done, makeup was perfect, and the outfit was giving 90s supermodel, SHE was givng 90's supermodel. Ofelia was sitting on the couch when Y/N came out.

“Aahh, you look AMAZING, okay, lets go, I have the invitation and I’m so happy his building has parking.” Ofelia said.

Girls showed ID and invitation to the doorman and bouncer when entering the building and accessing the rooftop.

“Wow, this party looks lit.” Ofelia said.

“Yeah, it does. I wonder how they got the heat lamps up here.” Y/N said. Ofelia was looking around until she saw her friend.

“Oh my god, hey! I saw my friend from work, I’ll see you later, okay.” Ofelia said walking away

“You can’t just leave me here!” Y/N tried shouting but Ofelia wasn’t within hearing range. “Great.” While Y/N was just observing the party, keeping to herself, Lewis Hamilton was by the DJ booth, hyping up the party.

“Make some noise, NYC!” Lewis said and everyone cheered, but he saw a woman by herself who didn’t cheer at all. He thought she looked quite beautiful, even under the low light. “Hey man, I’ll be right back.”

“Alright, I’m gonna start the countdown in a few.” His DJ friend said. Lewis nodded, dapping up the DJ before getting down from the stand to look for the woman he spotted. It took a while for Lewis to find her since she was moving too, looking for her friend, but she eventually stopped at the table where there were chips and drinks. The DJ started counting down to midnight, Lewis was standing near Y/N but didn’t make a move.

“Happy New Year!” Everyone shouted, Lewis turned Y/N and kissed her, walking away after they pulled away. Y/N stared at him when we walked away, he looked so familiar. Y/N felt someone else grab her shoulders.

“Y/N, you got a New Years kiss, from who?” Ofelia asked.

“I have no idea, but he was a good kisser, I’ll tell you that much.” Y/N said,

6 weeks later, Y/N was on her computer reviewing her emails and she screamed. Ofelia came running out with a baseball bat.

“What happened? Is it the rat again?” Ofelia asked

“What? No, I got an email from Scuderia Ferrari.” Y/N said.

“The Formula 1 team? You don’t even watch the sport, why the hell did you apply?” Ofelia asked.

“Well i have always wanted to travel, apparently F1 drivers travel ALL THE TIME, this is in Maranello, Italy, I always wanted to go…” Y/N said,

“You don’t speak Italian.” Ofelia said,

“I’m learning, chingada madre, will you let me finish?” Y/N asked. Ofelia nodded her head. “Anyway, Scuderia Ferrari are looking for a new photographer, I’ve seen the posts they made on Instagram, my photography style is very similar, I’m sure the person in charge wouldn’t want the Instagram page to lose the ‘essence’ of Ferrari so looks like I’m their new photographer. Ah, I am so excited! I start in a few weeks, they have emailed me my plane ticket for the following week, even temporary housing until I can get a proper place and a company car (unrealistic but it seems nice).”

“Wow, the people at Ferrari are very generous. I’ll help you pack.” Ofelia said.

2 weeks later, Y/N arrived at the Italian airport, was greeted by a Ferrari employee, and was taken to her furnished apartment. Y/N called Ofelia and showed her the view and everything. Y/N hung up, got her camera, and walked outside her apartment for a little while to take pictures of everything until she got a call from her boss.

“Hey Mr. Vasseur, how are you?” Y/N asked.

“I’m doing well, have you settled in?” Fred asked.

“I have, thank you for asking. To what do I owe your call?” Y/N asked.

“My drivers landed in Maranello today, do you think you can come to headquarters tomorrow?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, you bet, see you then.” Y/N said.

The next day, Y/N was entering the Scuderia Ferrari Base in jeans, white button up blouse, sneakers, and a Ferrari cap because of the sun. She was greeted by Fred.

“Y/N, so nice to meet you in person, how was the drive?” Fred asked.

“Very good, thank you so much for the car. What am I supposed to take pictures of?” Y/N asked.

“Well Hamilton and Leclerc are training on the sim because we have the Australian Grand Prix in 2 weeks. Come, I’ll introduce you to them.” Fred said, leading Y/N to the training room where they have the racing simulator.

“Ha, I beat your time!” Lewis said.

“Yeah, it won’t happen again, mate.” Charles said. Fred then cleared his throat, causing the drivers to stand up.

“Gentleman, this is…” Fred started

“No way, you’re Y/N L/N, I bought some of your photos from a New York gallery, you’re very talented.” Charles said, shaking her hand.

“Oh thank you so much, I was wondering who paid so much money for my photos.” Y/N chuckled, she turned to look at Lewis, they stared at each other until Y/N held out her hand for Lewis to take it. “Okay so do whatever it is that you were doing to I can take some photos. So go on the simulator, talk, do whatever.”

“What kind of photographer are you?” Lewis asked.

“Well, i Don’t specialize in anything if that’s what you’re asking. I have taken landscape photos, I’ve been a photographer on a vogue photo shoot, taken runway photos, even photos of animals. So I’m an…everything photographer.” Y/N said. “Again, do whatever is natural, im sure your fans will love to see you guys bonding now that you’re teammates.”

Y/N took photos of them talking, being on the sim, even some of them just walking around the Ferrari base.

“Okay so I think I got some pretty good shots, you can check it out before I show Fred.” Y/N said. She connected her camera to her laptop so the drivers could see the photos better.

“These are really good, Charles was right, you’re very talented.” Lewis said.

“Why thank you. What about you, charles? Are my photos to your liking?” Y/N asked.

“Yes they are, I never doubted it.” Charles said. Charles left Lewis and Y/N alone so he could change out of his Ferrari clothes.

“You recognize me, don’t you?” Lewis asked.

“How could I forget the man who gave me a new years kiss. I thought I’d never see you again, kinda made it up in my head that you were a secret agent or something.” Y/N said, Lewis laughed.

“Sadly no, I’m just a formula 1 driver. I’m surprised you didn’t know who I was at the party since it was my party.” Lewis said.

“You were the host my friend was talking about! The one with the penthouse, no fucking way. Also, Mr. Billion Dollar Man, you didn’t recognize me either, you were the one who kissed me, meaning you spotted me first, prior to our kiss, and charles knew who I was right away.” Y/N said,

“True. But why were you by yourself? You looked sad, did something happen?” Lewis asked.

“Well my boyfriend of 8 years cheated on me, my friend dragged me to a party and then went off to see the friend who invited her, so yeah, that’s what happened.” Y/N said.

“Who could possibly cheat on you? You seem so sweet” Lewis said.

“Thank you, but you Don’t know me.” Y/N said.

“How about we change that. You want to go out for lunch?” Lewis asked.

“I would love to.” Y/N said.

The End

Hope y’all liked it!

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #mexican #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic

144 notes · View notes

goldfades · 1 year ago

Text

✮ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, quinn hughes

you can hear it in the silence, silence, you you can feel it on the way home, way home, you you can see it with the lights out, lights out you are in love, true love you are in love

one step, not much but it said enough you kiss on sidewalks you fight and you talk one night he wakes strange look on his face pauses, then says you're my best friend and you knew what it was he is in love

you two are dancing in a snow globe, 'round and 'round and he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

♡ ─ word count | 3.5k

♡ ─ summary | 3 times that quinn wanted to tell you he loved you, and the 1 time he finally did.

♡ ─ warnings | unedited (when are my works ever lol), mention of comparison between jack/quinn, exhaustion, slight angst??? but mostly tooth-rotting fluff, quinn overthinking, idk maybe there are more but nothing major LMAO

♡ ─ taglist | tbd!! check link in navigation if you are interested

♡ ─ ev's notes | this took WAY too long to write and lowkey not very proud of it, but i wanted to get it out before i start writing my fics for my 100 follower celly. i love quinny so much, he deserves the world and i hope this fic does him justice LMAO. ALSO THIS SONG MAKES ME FEEL SO FREAKING SICK, ITS SO GOOD. also now im noticing a theme on my page, only writing fics inspired by taylor songs, i need to switch it tf up. anyways, enjoy this slightly longer quinn fic & lmk your thoughts in the comments/reblogs. have a great day!

Quinn had never been the type to fawn over anyone ─ especially a girl.

In his 23 years of living, he can't remember a time where he was getting all excited and giddy over the mere thought of anyone. All he could ever remember was just focusing on family, hockey, friends.

Sure, there were flings ─ there were always flings but it would never end in anything more than that. It was just a fling. Sure, sometimes he would want something more but most of the times, the girls thought they were just getting themselves into a one-night stand. Two nights (never in a row) if they were lucky. But that was it.

Even if Quinn wanted a relationship (he doesn't, he would swear), he didn't have time for it. Family, hockey, friends ─ that was it. That's all he wanted.

Of course, that was all thrown out the window when he had met you.

Well, not initially. Quinn wasn't the 'love at first type' kinda guy and neither were you. Your first meeting was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a casual meeting at a friend's gathering, a few exchanged pleasantries, and nothing more.

Yet, something about you stuck with him. It was your sweet smile, maybe, or the way your eyes just looked kind and they would light up when you were asked about your job, or your family. Quinn couldn't pinpoint exactly when it happened, but at some point, he found himself thinking about you when he should have been focused on his next game or practice.

His friends noticed the change in him. His younger brothers had noticed the small change and would tease him. "Hey, Q, what's up with you? You've been awfully distracted lately," Quinn could just imagine the stupid grin etched on Jack's face as he spoke those words.

Quinn, normally quick with a witty retort, found himself at a loss for words. He knew he was in new territory; he had never, ever in his life been overthinking about a girl. For the first time, hockey or family or friends weren't the only thing on his mind.

As days turned into weeks, Quinn's feelings grew stronger. He'd catch himself daydreaming about you during team meetings or staring at his phone, waiting for your texts back. He would go look at your instagram multiple times a day, waiting for a new post to go up just so he could see that pretty smile of yours but somehow, he was never satisfied with just that. For once in his whole life, he had wanted to actually get to know a girl based on one meeting and a couple of texts. It was maddening, this feeling of being drawn towards someone in a way he had never experienced before.

He also couldn't ask any of his buddies for advice because all he'd get was teasing so he had to keep it to himself, which somehow made this entire situation so much worse.

Then finally, there was that one night. You were both at another gathering, the same friends, the same laughter, but this time something shifted. You shared a small inside joke, a quick glance, and Quinn felt his heart race in a way that no slapshot or overtime goal had ever made it race before. He felt a surge of contradictory emotions during that one-second moment, a mix of anxiety and excitement that overwhelmed him. It was a sensation so intense that he wanted to vomit, yet strangely, it was different from the kind of feelings he had experienced before ─ it was not because of hockey, it was a girl. No, you weren't just a girl to him anymore, he realized. You were much more than that to him now.

As he drove home that night, he couldn't deny it anymore. He was falling for you, and it terrified him. Love was a complicated thing, one he had always sworn to avoid, but now he was caught in it's tight grasp all because of you.

The following days were a whirlwind of emotions. Quinn, who had always been the composed defenseman on the ice, found himself stumbling over words and second-guessing every move he made when it came to you. He couldn't concentrate during practice, and his teammates couldn't understand what had gotten into him and if he was being honest, neither did he.

But one thing was clear - Quinn Hughes was in love, and he didn't know how to handle it. He realized that his carefully constructed world of family, hockey, and friends had been upended by the presence of one person ─ you.

And so, this journey begins - three times Quinn wanted to tell you he loved you, and the one time he finally did.

──

ONE

──

After what seemed like the longest practice of his entire life, Quinn trudged back to his apartment, exhaustion weighing down every step. The weight of expectations from his teammates and fans pressed on his shoulders. Today wasn't his day; his passes were off, shots missed the mark, and he stumbled more than once during drills. Even coach had given him some constructive criticism, which usually wouldn't have bothered him, but today it felt like salt in the wound.

As he entered his home, he was ready to collapse onto the couch and shut out the world. As he collapsed on his soft couch, he groaned out in pain, the soreness in his muscles somehow hurt more than usual. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, until he heard the familiar buzzing of his phone in the pocket of his shorts. He cursed under his breath and pulled it out but all the anger seemed to slowly dissipate as he saw your name and contact picture spayed out on the screen.

Then he remembered. Tonight was supposed to be date night for the both of you. He cursed again before answering the phone, sitting upright on the couch.

"Hey," he answered breathlessly, the exhaustion clear in his voice.

"Hey, Quinn I'm outside─you okay?" You say through the phone but before he could answer, you continued. "Shit, sorry Quinn is this a bad time? I know you just had practice and probably tired, I should've texted but you know, I was so excited─"

"No, no, no. Come up, I'm fine I'm not tired." He was lying and you both knew it, but you sighed through the speaker. "Please, come up. I want you here."

"Okay... promise?"

"Promise, Y/N." He said your name so softly, it made your heart flutter and you couldn't help but smile.

"Okay. I'll be up in two secs," You said. "Bye."

The phone call ended and Quinn exhaled. He was tired, sure ─ but he was excited to see you. Even the sound of your voice made him relax so it wasn't even that much of hassle having a date night. If anything, he was sure, you'd make him feel better.

He quickly changed his clothes and he heard the doorbell ring. Quinn opened the door with a tired smile ─ it slowly spread as he saw your pretty smile. He felt his heart speed up as you slowly examined him, and that smile slowly dropped.

"Quinn..." You whispered, a small frown on your face. His disheveled appearance made you slightly sad.

You both made eye contact for a few seconds before you sighed and walked in, your arms wide open. You embraced him warmly, putting your arms around his shoulders and squeezed him softly.

As your arms enveloped him in a warm, comforting embrace, Quinn felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Your presence had a way of soothing his mind. The subtle scent of your floral shampoo, the softness of your warm touch, it all wrapped around him pleasantly.

He closed his eyes, letting himself bask in the tenderness of the moment. Your fingers traced gentle circles on his back, and it was as if you were silently reassuring him that it was okay to have bad days because you'd be there to catch him.

You pulled away, your eyes met again, and he saw genuine concern in your gaze. That alone was enough to make his heart skip multiple beats. Quinn couldn't quite put it into words, being around you was like like returning to the warm embrace of home.

He wanted to utter those three special words as he met your gaze, your kind eyes but the words slowly died on his tongue as you continued talking, taking his hand in yours.

"Let's go eat some ice cream and watch Top Gun." You smiled, knowingly.

He laughed softly and nodded, squeezing your hand. "Sounds like a plan."

──

TWO

──

The moon cast a soft glow through the white curtains as you and Quinn sat together in his dimly lit living room in comfortable silence. The day had been long, filled with its usual chaos and pressures, but now, the world was still. The only sounds were the faint hum of the city outside and the occasional car passing by.

With a sigh, Quinn leaned back into the couch, his exhaustion evident in expression. You watched him closely, sensing the weight of the day on his shoulders. Your relationship had grown stronger over the span of a couple months and you had become his confidante, the one he turned to when he needed to escape from the demands of the team and fans.

Practice had been harder than usual and somehow, on top of all of that, the media had initiated a new trend of drawing comparisons between him and Jack, which made his mood worse.

You knew that; watching Quinn get slowly demotivated by the comments made by those nobodies, it hurt your heart. Breaking the silence, you softly asked, "Quinn, how are you really holding up?"

He looked at you, his gaze wavering at your soft eyes. There was something about the way you looked at him, a warmth and understanding that he had rarely found in anyone else. It was as if you could see right through him, past the tough exterior he often wore.

For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. He almost gave you the media-trained answer but then, he realized that with you. "Not sure, if I'm being honest."

"That's fine, Quinn." You answered softly, "you don't have to know. But what I do what you to know is that you're not Jack. You're not Luke, or Trevor, or anyone else. You're you and that's enough."

That simple answer made him halt all his thoughts. He felt his shoulders slowly drop, letting out a loud exhale. He felt a sense of relief wash over him, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

With empathy in your eyes, you couldn't help but feel the toll it was taking on him. The Quinn you saw now, weary and vulnerable, was a side he rarely showed to anyone.

Quinn's voice wavered as he spoke about the comments that everyone had been making on the media. "It's just... they don't understand, Y/N. They don't see the hours of practice, the sacrifices, the love I have for this game. All they see is Jack's brother, or one of the Hughes brothers."

You reached out and gently placed a hand on his arm, comfortingly. "Quinn, I see you. I see the hard work, the dedication, and the love you have for hockey. And I believe in you. You might be just Jack's brother or just another Hughes to them, but that doesn't matter to me. I see Quinn and you know what, that's enough. And if it isn't enough for them, then fuck them."

His eyes met yours, and there was a vulnerability in that eyes that spoke volumes. In that moment, Quinn realized that he was sharing not just his struggles, but his true self with you. It was a level of trust and intimacy he hadn't experienced with any girl before.

The silence that followed was a comforting one, filled with unspoken understanding. It was as if you were his anchor in the storm, a source of encouragement and warmth. Quinn couldn't help but think that he was lucky to have you by his side, someone who saw him for who he truly was, beyond just hockey player or another Hughes brother, beyond the expectations.

As he held your kind gaze, Quinn couldn't help but think that he wanted to say something more, something that would convey the true depth of his feelings. But for now, he settled for a heartfelt confession: "You're my best friend."

──

THREE

──

The frenetic buzz of the post-game celebrations following a thrilling overtime victory against the Toronto Maple Leafs, Quinn found himself into another arena, one of bright lights and microphones. His heart still raced from the intensity of the game, but now, he had to face the media. The sweat dripped from his forehead, his heart was still beating from the intensity of the adrenaline in his system.

The victory had been hard-fought, Quinn playing a pivotal role in securing it. The puck on his stick, he executed great moves, the slide of the ice beneath his skates, the thud of the puck hitting the net, the eruption of cheers all merging into a thrilling crescendo of sensations made his head buzz with excitement.

The reporters, with cameras flashing and microphones thrust forward, surrounded him like a hungry vultures. They fired questions, one after another, probing for insights into the game-changing play that had secured the win for the Vancouver Canucks.

"Quinn, that last-minute save in overtime was incredible! Can you walk us through what was going on in your mind?"

"Quinn, there's been a lot of buzz with your brother, Jack Hughes. How does it feel to outshine him tonight?"

"You've been compared to some of the greats tonight. How do you handle the pressure of those comparisons?"

"Quinn, your family's here tonight, right? How does their support affect your game?"

"Quinn, fans are calling this one of the best games of your career. Do you think this win is the turning point for the Canucks this season?"

The questions all blurred in his head, the bright lights straining his eyes. Quinn, used to these post-game interviews, felt a distinct unease tonight even after such a big win. The questions were sharp and the scrutiny was intense. In the midst of this media frenzy, he sought solace in the one thing that always brought him strength: you.

He remembers seeing you in the stands before the game and his mind kept replaying those few seconds where you shared a big grin as you both made eye contact.

Amidst the crowd of reporters, he spotted you, your presence radiating pride and warmth. Your eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you in the arena. You gave him a big thumbs up with a big grin, knowing how anxiety inducing those post-game interviews could be. Quinn longed to speak the words that danced at the tip of his tongue but he knew he had to navigate this sea of questions first.

──

This week had to be the longest of Quinn's life. The 3 hour, 5 am pre-season practices had been so tiring, he felt the life get sucked out of him after every exhausting practice. There was one thing he had been looking forward to and that was your date night. Even though he knew that he would have do this week over again practically the next week, he was okay with it knowing that he would be able to spend some time with you over the weekends.

As Friday night finally arrived, Quinn couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and excitement. The thought of spending time with you, of being himself without the pressures of anyone else, filled him with a sense of comfort.

He had suggested a new restaurant downtown, a place neither of you had been before. As you both entered the restaurant, the soft piano ambience and the chatter created the perfect atmosphere. Quinn couldn't help but steal a few glances at you, admiring your beauty and the easy way you fit into his world.

You had worn your hair back in a low bun, showing off your sweet collarbone, a pretty necklace that Quinn had bought for you on a trip hanging off it. It was a silver color and the jewel a beautiful deep blue color that brought out your angelic eyes. Quinn couldn't help but stare and you felt your face burn with heat as you caught his loving gaze.

"What, is there something on my face?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no. You just look beautiful, like always. I like that necklace, wonder who bought it for you."

You giggled in response, feeling slightly giddy. You couldn't even lie, Quinn had you in a trance. You were head over heels. "Yeah, I wonder who."

The rest of the night was spent like this ─ sweet and teasing, it all felt right. Everything just felt right, it was if the last week hadn't happened. Every problem just slowly faded every time either of you spent time together, no matter how big or small it was.

After dinner, you decided to take a walk out in town. The summer air was unusually cool, the lights of the city perfectly setting the atmosphere for the night.

Quinn held your hand, your softer and smaller hand fitting his like a glove. You both walked through the town, talking and laughing like you two were the only people in the world.

As you both passed a bar, your ears filled with the familiar tune of your favorite song. You immediately stopped and looked at Quinn knowingly. "Oh my gosh, I can't believe it's playing!"

Quinn let out a soft chuckle, nodding. "Wanna go in?"

You ignored his question and started lip syncing the lyrics to him, playfully. He started laughing even louder, letting his head fall back. You had started laughing, too ─ then, you took his hand in yours and started dancing.

If it this was anyone else, Quinn would've been slightly embarrassed but as he saw your eyes sparkling and your wide small, he truly couldn't feel anything but love. He had a smile on his face as he grabbed you and pulled you closer, dancing happily with you.

As the song ended, another started playing. 'You are in love' by Taylor Swift had started playing and Quinn almost let out a laugh at the coincidence. You looked back at him, a deep blush gracing on your face. He took your hand again and pulled you closer, and you put you put arms around his broad shoulders.

You both looked into each other's eyes and he took account of how beautiful you looked in this moment ─ you always looked beautiful, no matter when or where or to who, it was just a fact. But you looked more than just physically beautiful, everything about you was perfect, your flaws, your smile, just everything.

And that was when Quinn really knew, in his bones that you were the one for him.

"What?" You whispered, as you saw Quinn's expression changed slowly. He loved that too ─ how empathetic you were, how in sync you both were. You always knew what he was feeling.

You asked, but you knew what the answer was.

"I think ─ no..." His words died on his tongue as your expression changed too. "I know it. I love you."

It didn't feel like a big confession. It didn't feel how everyone described it to be, it just felt like a normal statement. You both had thought it before, multiple times ─ so saying it out loud wasn't a big confession to either of you.

He loved that, he was so used to everything being so big and grand, he wanted it simple. He loved that and he loved you.

You could see it in his eyes, too. His eyes were softened as he gazed at you, like he always looked at you. But this time, you acknowledged it more. He loved you. Quinn loved you. As you gazed into his brown eyes, your heart swelled with a deep sense of connection. You had known, just like he did, that this feeling existed between you. It wasn't born out of big gestures or dramatic confessions; instead, it had quietly grown, nourished by the everyday moments you shared.

As the song ended softly, you let out a breath you didn't know you were even holding. "Yeah. I know I love you, too."

His smile got impossibly bigger and then, he leaned in and gave you the biggest of kisses ─ the dramatic ones, too. He had your face in his hand, the other one holding on your waist and you pulled him closer with your hands.

You felt his mouth smirk as you both sloppily made out. You laughed into the kiss but neither of you pulled away. Neither of you liked PDA but this time, it felt right.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nhl imagine #nhl #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl oneshot #hockey #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x oc #vancouver canucks #nhl angst #nhl fanfiction #hughes brothers #hughes family #jack hughes blurb

600 notes · View notes

headkiss · 2 years ago

Note

Hi hun hope you’re staying warm! I’m sorry this is a last minute holiday one! I was wondering you could write a Christmas Eddie x reader where the party all do secret Santa and Eddie ends up getting reader? They aren’t dating just crushing and Eddie is freaking out because he wants to get her something really special *cue Dustin’s help* and it ends on a sweet note. Thank you! ❤️

hi love!! i hope this is good <3 it’s my gift to u, merry christmas | 0.7k, fluff, fem!reader

Secret Santa was a great tradition amongst your friends, and when Eddie joined the group, you were all happy to have another name in the hat.

It’s the second Christmas with Eddie around and you can’t deny that the holidays feel better with him. Brighter. You also can’t deny how much you like him.

You’ve grown close, and he’s so much more than what you were expecting. The crush started out as just that, a crush, and grew and grew until it became something huge. A certain four letter word kind of huge.

Though you’re clueless to it, the same goes for Eddie. He’s convinced that he was in love the moment he met you. His world shifted, something clicked into place.

That’s why his stomach drops when he picks your name for secret Santa this year.

He likes you so much—loves you, even—and he knows he has to get something special. He cares more about whether or not you’ll like your gift than he ever has for anyone else and it’s stressful.

Naturally, he goes to Dustin for help.

“Listen, it has to be really good,” he says. “Like really, really good.”

“You’ve said that like ten times,” Dustin replies, his usual sass present as always.

“Because it’s true! Help me.”

“Doesn’t she like to read?”

“Yeah. Loves it.”

“Get her a book. Problem solved.”

“Wow, thank you so much, Henderson. A book. How special,” Eddie deadpans.

“Make it special, Eddie. You know, with your pizzazz.”

Make it special with your pizzazz. What the fuck is he supposed to do with that?

Days later, Eddie finally figures out a special present to do with books. He worries over and over that it’s stupid, that you’ll hate it, but it’s the best thing he’s come up with (thanks to Dustin, after all).

Secret Santa occurs on Christmas Eve, and that’s where you are now.

Eddie greeted you with a hug when he saw you, holding you tight longer than usual, trying not to obviously breathe you in. Your smell, your comfort. When you pulled back, he was almost stunned by how pretty he finds you.

It’s not a new thought. He notices constantly, but sometimes it just hits him. He blames the holidays for it this time. You’re wearing a Christmas sweater vest, a plain long sleeve beneath it, and jeans. It’s perfect on you.

“I like your outfit,” he says, when he really means that you’re the prettiest person in the entire world, he thinks.

“Thanks, I like yours too,” it’s the same as he always wears, but he knows you mean it.

He’s a mess when the gift exchanging starts, his leg bouncing. He wants you to like it so much. He hardly notices when it’s his turn to pass his present, lost in his head.

“Eddie?” You move to catch his gaze.

“Hm?”

“It’s your turn.”

“Oh, sorry.” He grabs the present he spent way too long wrapping, hands it to you slowly, “Merry Christmas.”

When you take it from him, your fingers brush. Even after the contact, they’re left burning with the memory.

You unwrap it gently, like you’re trying to savor it. Eddie watches your face the entire time, eyes searching for any reaction. What he gets is a look, your mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ from surprise.

“You didn’t,” you say.

A chorus of ‘what is it’s sound from your friends. You’d almost forgotten they were there, too.

“It’s a first edition,” Eddie says.

A special book. Your favorite one, first edition, with a card tucked away in its pages for you to find later.

“Eddie, this is perfect.”

“You like it, then?”

“Are you kidding?!”

At his shy smile you can’t hold yourself back from springing up to hug him. He’s still sitting, unprepared, so you lean down and wrap your arms around his shoulders. His come around your back quickly.

You bury your face in his neck, press a kiss that’s so light Eddie’s not sure if he dreamt it, and mumble, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome, babe.”

With his arms around you, Eddie decides that he’s going to ask you out as soon as you’re alone. He can’t keep hiding his feelings when you’re the only person he’s ever felt them for. They practically seep out of him now.

Robin leans over to Steve, “how much you wanna bet they’re dating next time we see them?”

984 notes · View notes

accio-victuuri · 11 months ago

Text

year-end sugar rush round up 🍭

it’s time for the last round up of 2023. we have made it through another year filled with clownery and love for the boys! as per my tradition in posting year end candy recaps, i am releasing early 31st cause i am gonna be busy with nye shows. i hope you enjoy looking through all the happiness the final month gave us. have a great new year’s eve everyone!!!

if you wanna look through the past months or year/s then go to this link. 🔗

i’m adding a little exercise to this post tho and ask you, what are your top 5 cpns of the year? please comment or reblog with your answers!

• The tattoo rumor resurfaces ( new clue? )

• Bowing to the crowd as thank you

• 13 fake rumors - from the vault

• potential wedding photoshoot and “superman can’t fly”

• not really cpn but a media account on tiktok posted a video of xz’s appearance in MBS. they used the tags related to xiao zhan for more views, but they included one that has wang yibo’s name on it. 😂 i know that they might have just chosen an already existing tag with xz and wyb name on it and forgot to edit it. but it’s still a funny incident.

• 12/3 ZSWW Fake Rumor ( pre singapore timeline )

• 12/4 fake story contribution ( wolf mates for life )

• Washing candies only make it sweeter

• An example of bjyx being an open secret ( sort of )

photos were going around of a yibo vcr played in a chanel annual meeting in china. we were all happy to see wyb lookin so good and fresh faced, but what we noticed is his top.

the style of top he was wearing (p1) is very similar to that of GG’s (p2) at the airport when he was flying back to Beijing. it’s probably because the weather is getting colder so they wear this instead of their usual esspensive t-shirts?

the point is it’s kind of like the same-style in a close timeframe from each other. so it seems like their tastes in casual clothes are still very close.

• 12/7/23 Candies ( GQ MOTY + XZS Singapore vlog)

• The GQ MOTY hat was a gift from XZ 🤍 // Part two : I have to say that this has become a favorite one among cpns and has become notorious since so/os from both sides are trying so desperately to wash it. those on xz’s side using rocco’s 227 kadian to dispute everything even if it was their fault they were called out while xz was busy working his ass of shooting LOCH. this is just a reminder that the celebrity is not equal to their fans. whatever drama both sides do to each other, has nothing to do with us and does not reflect the boy’s relationship. 🤍

• Coffee from Singapore CPN ☕️

• All the things that happened Monday Morning of 12/11 which includes the magazine covers, pants, xz going online for a moment etc.

• xiao zhan’s snowman ⛄️

• The fact that WYB was wearing the bone necklace tho hidden during his BAZAAR photoshoot. The ones in focus were of course Chanel, but those who pay attention will see it. A proof of how special it is. Imagine WYB being bare faced and only had stuff that he actually needs, and he decided to keep the necklace on.

• Not exactly CPN but more of a similarity i love to see. cause Shandong Satellite TV decided to air BAH right after SBMS! We love to see their works not only be shown in online platforms, but also in satellite TV stations.

• Candy Throwback : Alexander Mcqueen shoes, Nike off white & WYB’s missing mole

• 12/15 double attack of stock photos from XZS and YBO. The black and white theme! Anytime these two decide to give us some update is a happy day!

• Du Hua describes WYB’s looks as that of a rabbit

• Tencent Video All Star Night CPNs 💛

• 12/19 they both went back to Beijing. ZZ was in Shanghai to film and WYB also filmed CCTV stage. The thing is WYB started filming at 2:00 AM and then he was back at the airport to leave at 10:00 AM. They both arrived to BJ so close to each other. CPN is they tried really hard to be back home & be together that day ♥️

• throwback cpn : wyb prepares xz’s room in hengdian (2021)

• their studios posting so close together for winter solstice! tho wyb’s is a preview for his new single, ybo still greeted people.

• Winter solstice CPNs ( WYB’s song preview and GG’s photoset )

• Clowning about a possible secret message from a 9key code

• “Everything is lovely” similarity from xzs caption and yibo’s new single and more clues like a possible connection to an lrlg post & what looks like a rabbit and character for ox.

• black and yellow similarity!

• 12/26 WYB EP cpn post ( teaser lyrics )

• FAE : Free and Easy sweater

• Same style of editing between XZS and YBO who we all know are dating ☺️☺️☺️

• 12/28 candies

• Marie Claire x Xiao Zhan issue 🍭🍬

• Yibo’s new singles : Bystander & Everything is Lovely

• LRLG 12/30 translation and short commentaries

• LRLG responding to cpf comments

• Wang Wang Xianbei 😂😂😂😂

• Similar clothes and Participating in the same single for a nye song

That’s all for now, See you next year!!!! ❤️💛💚

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

122 notes · View notes

skzhua · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! Sorry to bother again lol. I’m the Han obsessed girl lol. At it again with another request story cause my mind spirals but anyways I was thinking a forbidden love and sorta enemies to lovers so basically Han really wants to be with y/n but can’t cause of there differences and family issues etc and y/n pushes Han away cause she knows she likes him and all and basically angst and some fluff at the end? If that makes sense! - Sorry for the long request anyways Luv your work <3 (That’s why I keep coming back lol)

He's Not What He Seems to Be

MASTERLIST

Pairing: New CEO!Han Jisung x Rival!Female Reader, brief Lee Felix x Reader.

Genre: CEO!AU, forbidden love!AU, rivals-to-lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn.

Word Count: 19,435

Warnings: Swearing, insults, drinking, suggestive, mentions of sex but nothing too explicit, one mention of cheating. (proofread-ish)

A/N: I've been wanting to do a forbidden love kind of thing for a while, thank you! This is basically what I was already working on, but I changed it a bit so it could work for your request.

A/N 2: My longest fic so far! I love this story so much and put so much into it! I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did when writing it.

one. - now -

"Has Miss L/N signed the papers yet?" the man asked your father, as if you weren't in the room already.

"She has not yet. We are to discuss our agreement before we commit to anything." your father answered politely.

"I see." the man, also known as Mr. Bang, breathed out. "I expect an answer until tomorrow night. We have our big announcement ceremony. I will be delighted to know you there."

Your father nodded politely before leaving the room while you stayed behind. As the door closed, you sent a glare to Mr. Bang. Upon seeing your reaction, he lets out a laugh.

"Chan, stop it." you rolled your eyes.

"Please, your father is so serious." he kept on laughing.

"If only he saw how you are out of office..." you mumbled in exasperation. "I think you becoming a CEO has only worsen your IQ."

He huffed in response. "Your company is nothing without mine, watch how you talk to me."

"Bruh..."

"Y/N, this is serious business!" he exclaimed.

"I know that, but I also know you are, first and foremost, my best friend. Plus, how did you talk about me just now? As if I'm some puppet who only gets to sign stupid papers."

He shook his head as he turned on his computer. "I was only joking."

"Yeah, well, my father didn't get that." you scoffed.

You went around his desk and leaned forward to see the statistics marked on his screen. You frowned when one number caught your attention. The Han technologies had risen significantly.

"I thought you said our new line of intelligent watches helped us beat the Han company." you commented.

"It did. For like a week." he sighed. "Your company is not doing so good, let me tell you."

The Bang family was a renowned one in the industry. Their ideas were always original and fresh, the public loved it. The Han were more traditional, but they managed to keep a great image since they kept on releasing new stuff all the time. Plus, their promoting team was a hard one to beat. And then, there was the L/N. You used to lead the technology brands with the Bang. However, with time, your ideas were not as impressive as they used to be. The Han family sued you for plagiarism a few years ago and this was a huge step back for your improvement. Luckily, Chan had recently taken his father's place as the CEO of Bang inc. and agreed on helping your company to increase your legitimacy. That was only because you two had studied together in college and grew to support one another.

"Isn't Han Jisung supposed to take the spot as their new chairman?" you asked when your eyes spotted his name on the screen.

"He gets promoted tomorrow morning."

You groaned in annoyance. "Does it mean he is going to be there at your night event?"

"Yes." he gave you a weak smile. "If it helps you to feel any better, he is only there to discuss business with us. You don't even have to address him a single word."

You scoffed again. "Trust me, I'll stay away from this guy. Why do you have business with him. anyway? I thought you were helping me!" you acted offended.

"Stop whining, Y/N. You're becoming CEO next year as well. See the following months as an opportunity to learn more about the industry." he patted your back.

You deadpanned at him, arms crossed. "You're so annoying."

"And that is why you love me." he faked a smile. "You should join your father before he asks me to marry you again."

Although your father thought the ideal solution to save the company was to marry you off to Chan, the latter had refused multiple times. You were his best friend, he would never take away such a big part of your life from you.

"Fair enough." you shrugged. "Don't forget to send me the papers, I'll sign them tonight."

"Yeah, yeah." he motioned his hand at you while his eyes were stuck on his computer. "See you tomorrow."

You joined your father outside, and there were already journalists surrounding him, asking him questions about your downfall and how he planned to save his company. You came to his rescue by telling them off and dragging your father behind to the car. Once in the vehicle, you asked the driver to bring you home.

"I really think you should marry Mr. Bang for our sake." he shot at you as the car started to move. "This would do great publicity and help us rise our sells."

"Well, it's a shame he doesn't want to propose to me." you sighed with a hint of playfulness in your voice.

"Y/N, be serious for once!" he nagged at you. "You've known the man for years and he is very respectful. I see no issue in a marriage."

You rolled your eyes at him. "I don't want to marry him, neither does he. He is already helping us a lot, it should be enough for now."

"And look at the results. This only made us beat the Han family for a week or so."

Not wanting to argue, you simply sighed loudly and looked out the window. You passed in front of the Han building and caught a slight glimpse of Han Jisung. Another thing you hated about the man was how good-looking he was. This was surely going to help him raise their numbers after he gets promoted.

Finally getting home, you rushed to your room to go wash up. Your day had been a hassle with the meetings with Chan, trying to act as if you haven't seen each other at your worst back in college. The moment you stepped in the shower, your phone went off. Glancing at the contact, you shrugged it off and declined. A few minutes into washing your hair, it went off again. With a groan, you hurried to rinse off the shampoo and soap that remained on your body.

Still damped, you answered rudely. "What?"

"Uh... Is this a bad timing? I thought you told me you'd be off work by now..." the voice on the other side spoke with uncertainty.

"I am at home, but couldn't you have waited five minutes?" you groaned.

"Jeez, my bad, L/N." Jisung chuckled. "Call me when you can?"

"No, I'm done already." you sighed as you started to dry yourself with the towel. "What do you want?"

"I'm nervous."

Yeah, you and Jisung weren't exactly as hateful towards one another as people thought you were. You hated him, yes, but only because he was an annoying child who would be constantly calling you to talk about anything. Other than that, he was a good friend of yours.

"You've been preparing for a whole ass year, you'll be fine." you softly reassured him.

"I still believe I need more time."

"If you want my opinion, you'll never feel ready. I can assure you that you are more than well-prepared for this position." you said before going back to your room.

"Are you going to be there tomorrow?"

You sighed heavily as you let yourself fall on your bed. "Yeah, but don't expect me to talk to you."

"I know." he said sadly.

There was a pause in the conversation. You took it as an opportunity to change into a more comfortable outfit since you wouldn't be going out until the morning after.

"You still there?" you heard through your phone.

You picked it up again and placed it on your ear. "Yeah."

"I- Do you think it's weird for me to want things to be different?" he breathed out.

You frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You hated me before, right?"

"Yeah..." you trailed off, even more confused. "I still do, honestly."

"Yeah, well not like you used to. And I hated you too."

"Just get to the point." you complained.

"Right." he coughed. "I wish we could have continued what happened last year."

two. - a year ago -

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." you cursed under your breath.

From afar, you saw your sworn enemy, Han Jisung, walk towards the baggage reclaim area, looking around for his own. You put on your sunglasses in hopes he wouldn't notice you. To your luck, he didn't as he seemed more preoccupied with finding his luggage.

You turned on your heels and walked away as fast as you could. In all of the places in the world, he had to be exactly where you were at for your little solo escapade. Add to that it was at the same time. You couldn't go back, this trip had cost you too much already.

"Well, well." you heard from behind. "If this isn't Miss L/N." he said in a cocky voice.

You shut your eyes closed before turning around, coming face to face with the man. "And if this isn't Mr. Too-Much-Ego-For-His-Own-Good." you faked a smile.

"I appreciate your worry about my ego, L/N, but I don't think it is necessary." he smirked at you. "Unless you actually have feelings under that pretty façade of yours."

It was your turn to send him a smirk. "I understand from what you said that you think I am pretty?"

His smile dropped. "You wish, princess."

With that, he left you in the middle of the airport as he headed towards the exit. Calling for a cab, he disappeared moments later. You could finally breathe a little. After making sure he wasn't around anymore, you went ahead yourself to get in a cab. You told the driver the location of the hotel you had reserved at, and it took him no time to drive away from the airport.

When you arrived, he was kind enough to help you with your bags before the valet took you in charge and brought them to your room. He led the way to the suite you had booked and made sure it was to your comfort before leaving. The sunlight was refreshing and the view as well compared to your house in the middle of the city back home. You walked to your balcony to take in the fresh air, letting yourself feel the warm breeze.

"Enjoying the view, L/N?"

Turning your head to your left, your eyes grew wider. This had to be a joke. There was no way he was in the room next to yours.

"Han." you muttered.

"I'm starting to think you are stalking me." he let out a laugh.

Even from his balcony that was a bit afar from yours, you could see the smug look plastered on his face. He was one hell of a jerk to be accusing you of such things, especially considering how much your families were against each other.

"I could say the same about you." you snorted.

"Don't expect this much from me, princess. If I wanted to pay attention to you, I would have done so way before."

How much you hated this pretty face of his. "Sure. Just don't bother my vacation." you huffed.

"You already ruined mine." he shot at you before walking back inside.

You soon did the same and rushed to get your phone, although you had promised yourself to not use it for the next two months of your getaway. In a hurry, you searched up Chan's contact and called him.

"I told you! You didn't even last an hour without your phone." he laughed as he answered.

"Han is here."

Chan said nothing, you could only hear his breath.

"Do you want to know the best?" you continued. "He's in the same fucking hotel in the room next to fucking mine."

"Oh." was all what came out of his mouth.

You grunted. "Thank you for the support, Bang."

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but this is kind of a lot to process." he chuckled awkwardly.

"Yeah, no shit..."

"Look, it can't be that bad! Just ignore him and he'll do the same. You two don't even look at each other during events, you can do the same now."

In a way, Chan was right. How bad could it be if the only thing you would do is go out in the sun and enjoy the beach? Sure, you were staying at the same hotel, but it didn't mean you were going to bump into each other every two seconds.

"Alright, I suppose it could have been worse. He just gets on my nerves so much."

"Ignore him and enjoy your trip, okay? I have to go now, but call me anytime."

"Thank you, Chan."

That night, you opted for having dinner at the restaurant in the lobby. From what you have heard, they served the best beef on Earth and there was no way you would miss your chance to taste it. You dressed in a casual attire, in contrary of your usual blazer you'd wear for work, and didn't even bother to look presentable. On this island in the middle of nowhere, who was going to recognize you anyway? Your cropped top with the skirt you picked definitely weren't going to be much of a problem.

The server offered for you to sit at their bar to taste their cocktails they offered along with the meat. You denied kindly and he assigned you to a single table near the window. From there, you had a perfect view of the sea and the sunset which were simply breathtaking. For the first time since your arrival, you finally felt at ease, which was exactly what you were going for. No stress, no pressure, just calmness.

"I'll have the flank steak with the potatoes, please." you ordered to the waiter, who took your menu after he noted it down.

The meal arrived not too long after. Taking a bite, you hummed from the taste, satisfied with the flavours. This was a perfect scenario; alone in the middle of nowhere eating the best food without anyone to bother you.

"Sorry ma'am." the waiter said, bringing a red drink in his hand. "The gentleman at the bar ordered this for you."

He left it on the table, making you almost blush. Not only was your night already perfect, but you could have your summer love at this instant. Your gaze moved to the counter with anticipation, until your smile was replaced by a glare.

"Are you being for real?" you scoffed, almost not believing what was happening.

"This is the most I have seen you in an entire day, Miss L/N." Han grinned, having the same drink as yours in his hand.

He left some money next to his plate before getting up and taking place on the seat in front of you. Your eyes followed his movements, daggers through them. He looked extremely handsome, more than usual. There was something about him wearing his shirt with a few buttons undone and neat jeans that had some sort of effect on you.

"What do you think you are doing?" you questioned, crossing your arms.

"I paid a beautiful lady a drink, what is so wrong with that?" he smirked.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you chuckled at him. "Are you seriously trying to flirt with someone you cursed at in public for the last month or so?"

He shrugged his shoulders as he took a sip of the red liquor. "This is in no way a professional setting, I'm allowing myself to let it loose. It might be something you should consider doing as well, princess."

"As if." you let out a laugh.

"I'm serious. Other than work, I don't see a reason for hating you at this moment. When you think about it, right now, we are two respectably office workers who are simply on a break on this beautiful island."

A playful smiled appeared on your face slowly. "You are right, Han. Maybe we could put our work aside for the following weeks."

You took this as a way to avoid awkward interactions, but mostly, it would avoid him shooting insults at you for the time being. If you were going to be seeing him regularly, might as well make a truce to be able to enjoy your stay.

"I didn't expect you to be agreeing with me." he tilted his head to the side. "How long are you staying anyway?"

"Two months."

He let out a hum. "Same as me."

"Great." you muttered.

Finally feeling the need of a drink, you took a sip of the one Han bought you. Your stare stayed cold as he observed your gestures. His eyes were almond round, but there was this intimating hint in them that you couldn't quite put a finger on. You were visibly both still on the edge. However, it was somehow more tolerable than usual.

He raised his glass towards you and you copied his move. "What are we toasting for?" you raised an eyebrow.

He grinned at you. "To us, two known rivals who bury the hatchet for two months."

"To us."

Cling.

three. - eleven months and three weeks ago -

The first week had passed by so fast. Although you had planned to do so many things, you had barely gone outside. Unlike what you originally thought, you were not able to get away from work as easily. With a couple of calls here and there, signing documents to confirm shipments and others, you had little time to go out and enjoy the weather.

"What did I tell you?" Chan sighed, video calling you from his office. "I thought this was to forget about work."

"I know, I know." you groaned while rummaging through the clothes you packed. "I promise, today, I'll do nothing else but go to the beach and take a dip in the sea."

"Yeah, if you can find your bathing suit." he held in a laugh as he watched you struggle. "I'd offer to help, but I am eight hours away from you."

"Oh, wow, Channie." you turned to look at your phone. "I didn't know, I'm so glad to know you wanted to help still."

"Drop the attitude." he rolled his eyes. "You should be enjoying the sun instead of talking to me."

"You're my only source of entertainment since I got here, my bad." you held your hands up in defense. "Though I'm sure you have a lot of work right now, so I'll leave you be."

"Good plan. Have a good first day of vacation!" he waved before hanging up, not letting you say it back.

"This asshole." you mumbled to yourself.

Finally getting a hold of your bikini, you changed into it and wore a long summer dress over it so you could easily remove it once at the beach. You packed a tube of sunscreen, sunglasses, sandals, a bottle of water, and a book to spend the time.

You got there in a matter of minutes since your hotel was so close to the shore. There were already a lot of people, but you managed to find a spot a bit further where you could have some peace. There was a long chair installed with a parasol and a small table, so you placed your things, laying them out neatly, before you removed your dress. You were about to put on your sunscreen, until you heard a whistle from your left. Looking for the source of the sound, your eyes laid on a man. He wasn't so old, but he was visibly way older than you.

"Hi, Miss." he presented himself politely. "My name is Ko Sangwook."

"Okay." you said nonchalantly.

"And you are?"

"Annoyed you came here to bother me." you snapped at him. "If your way of flirting is whistling at a woman because you saw her at the beach in a bathing suit, I can understand why you are still looking for someone at your age."

"I-" he started, but you raised your hand up to stop him.

"I came here to relax and enjoy the view, so if you don't mind, it'll be very appreciated if you leave me alone."

"I didn't mean to-"

"I know what you meant." you cut him off again. "But like I said, I'd like to be left alone, thank you."

His shoulders dropped in defeat before he turned on his heels and walked back to where he previously was. Satisfied, you went back to putting on the cream on your arms. As you thought you had finally some tranquility, you heard someone clapping their hands slowly as they approached you. You immediately knew who it was.

"I almost interfered but I might say, you are rather good at handling such situations, L/N." he commented as he continued to clap.

You gave him a polite smile. "I'd usually tell you to fuck off, but in the context of the vacation, I'll gladly thank you."

Han snickered as he approached you. "You are very welcome."

He, himself, was in his swimming shorts with a loose white t-shirt and sunglasses that were pushing his hair back. This was a much different look from what you had seen him wear before and it was surely the first time you noticed the muscles he had through the fabric.

"Did you get here early?" you asked, now rubbing your legs with the cream.

He was checking you out, there was no doubt. However, the attention you were receiving was the least of your worries. Instead, you tried to focus on smoothing the white of the sunscreen.

"No, I got here about fifteen minutes ago. If I'm being honest, Miss L/N, I expected to be crossing your way sooner than today."

"I had issues to attend to." you responded, keeping it brief.

He dared to sit next to you as he saw you struggle to do your shoulders. Taking the tube from your hands, he squirted a certain amount and gave you a look as to ask for your permission. You nodded slowly and he started to rub your back gently, applying where you couldn't reach.

"Let me guess." he continued the conversation. "Work?"

"Precisely." you answered, suddenly not so focused as you felt his hands massage your shoulders. "I couldn't leave the paperwork to the staff, they would have messed it up."

"I see." he hummed.

To your disappointment, he was already done with putting on your sunscreen and he got up, rubbing his hands together with the remaining of it.

"Enjoy your day, princess." he said before he walked the opposite way from you.

You let out a huff, your brain trying to process the last couple of minutes. You shook it off. This was Han being polite, nothing more. Thus, you picked up your book and started to read, a way to change your mind. It didn't work. Your eyes kept drifting to where the blond-haired man was. Now totally shirtless, it was way harder to ignore his figure. One hell of a man he was.

four. - now -

You coughed, not knowing what to respond to him. He seemed to notice your discomfort as he immediately tried to justify himself, although you already knew what he was referring to.

"I mean, back when we could be casual with each other without worrying about... Well, not casual, but at ease?"

"I get it, Jisung." you said, pinching in-between your eyes. "Listen, I'm sure tomorrow will go wonderful for you. This is what you've been working for all of these years, no?"

There was hesitation in his voice as he answered. "It is, you are right."

"Alright... I have to go now, I have a big day tomorrow, and so do you."

"Yeah..." he mumbled. "Thank you, Y/N."

"Good night, Han." you hung up.

Burying your face in your hands, you recalled the previous year. So much had happened since then, you didn't know why you kept secretly befriending the enemy. This was wrong, in all aspects.

"Miss L/N." you heard from your door. "I have your laundry. What do you want me to do with it?"

You opened the door to meet eyes with the sweet Jeongin, your assistant slash butler. "Innie, be casual with me." you chuckled.

"I would but your dad is, like, staring at me." he whispered to you, which made you laugh.

"I'll just take these from you." You then noticed another piece of clothing that did not belong to you while you took the pile of clean shirts from him. "What is this?"

"Ah." he exclaimed before holding it higher for you to see. "Mr. Bang told me about tomorrow, so I thought I could shop something for you. Don't be mad, I just thought you wouldn't have the time."

Analyzing the gown, you grinned from ear to ear. It was a beautiful silk red dress with a long skirt that seemed to be flowing even though the man holding it was barely moving. You noticed it had pockets and it only made you love it even more. If anything, Jeongin had the best taste in terms of clothing.

"It's okay, Jeongin. I love it."

"I knew you would." he smiled with you and gave it to you. "Sleep well." he waved.

"You too."

The next day, you woke up with the worst headache. You would have taken the day off, if it wasn't for the agreement you still had to sign with Chan. The guy forgot to send you the papers, and so had you forgotten to remind him. Both of you were so smart, but when put together, it was a disaster.

You walked in his office, a coffee in hand and eyebags taking half of your face, and then slumped on the chair in front of his desk. He gave you a suspicious look, but didn't bother questioning you when he spotted the box of doughnuts in your other hand.

"Is this for me?" he asked excitedly.

You yawned loudly while nodding your head, dropping the box in front of him. "I got the caramel thingy you love so much."

"You're the best." he smiled at you. "I can't eat them yet, though. We have some stuff to sign, my dear."

With a groan, you grabbed a pen laying on his agenda and straightened your posture, ready to sign. He took out a document out of a file and started to read out the conditions. There were basic ones, such as the percentage of gain for each party and the duration of the contract.

"Yeah, yeah, I know all of this already, we wrote it together." you whined, growing impatient.

"Sorry for following proper protocol, Mrs. I-Am-Still-Asleep." he rolled his eyes at you.

"Headache." you answered. "Where do I sign?"

He pointed you a few places while turning the pages. "And here."

"This feels like I'm committing to a marriage." you grumbled.

He stopped his motion and sent you a glare. "Y/N, please focus."

"Sorry."

You eventually signed everything and Chan made a copy for you. He kept his in a folder before putting it away in his drawer. Business was easy with him, you liked it.

You yawned once more as you put the paper in your briefcase. "My father will be happy this is finally done."

"I suggest you take a nap with some pills before tonight, you don't look too good." he pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"Can I just crash on your couch?" you motioned the sofa in the corner of his office.

He shrugged. "Sure, but a heads up, Han is coming in a like thirty minutes."

Your eyes widened. "Uh?"

"We have a couple of things to get cleared up before tonight. It won't be long, I promise. You tolerated him for two months last year, you can handle an hour or so."

Did you handle the two months? You begged to differ.

five. - eleven months ago -

Avoiding Han was easier when going to a different beach, further away from the one next to the hotel. It required you more transport, but the episode of the sunscreen left you traumatized almost. It was primordial for it to not occur again.

However, there was so much you could do to not meet him again. Tonight, the hotel was organizing a night on the beach for dancing and partying. You were still a woman in your 20s, there was no way you would be missing out on this. That also meant Han wasn't going to skip it either.

The moment you stepped foot on the sand, you saw him. He was discussing with a lady at the bar. Dressed in a short-sleeved buttoned shirt that was clearly too loose for him, he matched it with ripped jeans shorts and a silver chain around his neck. The woman with him was the definition of a popular girl you would meet in high school. Blond hair that matched his, bralette that enhanced the forms of her breast and a skin way too perfect to be real.

You had dressed up for the occasion as well. Although you had more self-preservation than her, you had picked a V shaped top with yet another one of your skirts. This one was longer and the fabric flooded perfectly as you walked. You went close to where he was sitting, ordering a margarita for yourself.

"Excuse me for a moment." he said, bowing apologetically to the lady.

Slowly, he made his way to you. You wondered where in this mind of his he thought talking to you was more worth it than speaking with the hot chick he had just abandoned.

"I would have never thought of you as one for the margaritas." he stated when the drink was placed in front of you.

"And I would have never guessed you liked bimbos." you replied with a knowing smile. "Known to break hearts, Han?"

He chuckled as he shook his head. "I used to be a wild teenager, I have to admit that."

"Not a surprise." you shrugged and drank your cocktail.

"How were you?" To this, you frowned at him. "In high school, I mean."

Looking up, you started to roll your memories from then in your head. "More reasonable and responsible than you were, I'd say."

"There is no doubt." he let out a laugh. "You dated Mr. Bang, didn't you?"

You froze at his words. For an instant, he reminded why you hated his family. They would never mind their own business and were constantly asking around for the gossip. This came to their advantage, they were known to expose the fraud within the industry.

"Is this why he's saving your ass from when my father sued yours?"

"Weren't you the one who wanted to bury the hatchet?" you said in a challenging voice.

"My apologies, princess." he snickered. "Curiosity got the best of me."

You turned your attention back on the drink in your hands. "I never dated Chan. I didn't even know him back in high school."

"It doesn't look like your relationship is platonic. I'm sure you are aware of what is said in the medias about the two of you."

You instantly got what he meant by that. "There is no marriage arrangement." you simply replied. "Did it answer your questions?"

"It did." he affirmed, now taking a sip of his own alcoholic liquor.

You considered you'd had enough of the conversation. By then, you had drawn a good image of what the Han family were discussing among themselves, and to no surprise, it was pure bullshit. You chugged the rest of your margarita and the shot of tequila you ordered along with it. Wincing at the strong taste, you put the glass down before walking towards the dance floor. Han stopped you.

Sending him a roll of your eyes, you smacked his hand away from your arm. "Am I not allowed to go have fun? Do I need the permission of the great Han Jisung?"

"I was simply about to ask you to dance with me."

You scoffed. "After your stunt about my personal life? I don't think so."

You found yourself moving along the music alone, soon then joined by another young man. From afar, you saw that Han had gone back to flirting with the big boobed girl from earlier. Good for him, he seemed to be lacking some action. As for the boy dancing with you, he was rather attractive. You grew to learn that his name was Felix and that he came from Australia. He was also a young wealthy man who was looking for a getaway from the toxicity of the business. It seemed to be a common pattern for most people like you.

"I see you know my mate, Jisung." he told you when he brought you afar from the noise, walking along the water.

You glanced back to Han's direction as he was moving with the blondie, her ass grinding on him. "He's nothing more than a mere acquaintance."

"Oh." Felix nodded his head. "I apologize, it seemed like more from where I watched the two of you."

You huffed, not believing a word he was saying. "We're rivals. If anything, I despise him."

He laughed at your words. "Hard feelings?"

You shook your head. "Not him in particular, his family in general." you breathed out before stopping to look at the small waves. "This is beautiful."

"It truly is."

A slight smile crept its way on your mouth. "The stars look like the freckles on your face."

He let out a chuckle. "You're a romantic?"

"When the man who keeps me company is to my liking, yes." you flirted.

This was definitely the alcohol speaking, but Felix was good-looking. You were not going to beat yourself for having an interest in him.

"I take it as in you appreciate my presence." he said in a soft tone, taking a step closer to you.

As he was now hovering you, you felt your heart pounding. "Good assumption." you whispered.

Carefully, he leaned in to meet your lips with his. He was undeniably an excellent kisser and he knew what he was doing. He eventually poked your lips with his tongue, asking for permission to slide it in yours. You let your mouth agape and went on to make out sensually. He slowly moved his hands from your waist to your ass which made you gasp at the contact.

"Sorry." he mumbled.

"Don't be." you breathed out heavily.

You moved your lips down his throat, moving to the muscle in-between his neck and his shoulder. It was his turn to let out a groan, making him grasp tighter on your ass cheeks.

"You want to do this here?" he grunted, still in shock from your sucking on his skin.

"We can take this to my room, unless you can't wait." you said in a moan.

Without another word, he grabbed your hand and ran back to the hotel. On the way there, you exchanged glances with Han. He had the woman all over him, but he didn't seem to enjoy it as much as he should. Instead, his eyes were dark as he followed your figure running to the building. You would have questioned it, but Felix picking you up bridal style quickly shifted your thoughts elsewhere.

When the doors of the elevator closed, Felix's lips were back on yours and his hands were, again, fondling your butt. Too immersed in the moment, you didn't think twice as you removed his shirt. He was stunned by your action, especially because you were still in public technically, but he didn't fight back. Your eyes directly went to his abdominal muscles, leaving your mouth open.

"I think it was a good idea to work out again for my part." he chuckled.

"Definitely."

Next thing you know, you're in your room with an Australian cutie on top of you. It was good, excellent you dared to think, but that was it. A one-night stand, nothing more.

When waking up, you felt horrible for not seeing him more than that. He was even prettier in the sunlight, but it was just that. He slowly woke up, grunting while stretching his arms out.

"Hey." he waved at you cutely. "Good morning."

"Hey." you waved back as you sit up. "Last night was nice." you commented, and he nodded in agreement.

"It was." he said, but seemed hesitant. Lifting his body up to lean on his elbows, he looked at you. "I didn't... feel it, though."

You let out a groan of relief. "Thank God, because me neither."

He laughed. "It was really good, though." he trailed off.

He lifted his hand up to the back of your neck and pulled you close to his face. Kissing him was hot, he didn't leave room for it to be an innocent gesture. He moved slowly to press your body down on the bed as he turned to be on top of you.

"You're so fucking hot." he almost growled.

As you felt him suck in your neck, you moaned at the sensation from the contact. "Same for you." you managed to spill out.

He backed away a little and stared right back into your eyes. "I don't mind keeping contact as a friend, but I'd love if we can keep doing this."

"Agreed." you quickly answered before bringing him back to the crook of your neck, already in need of feeling him.

"Fuck, so eager." he rasped out, leaving a couple of sloppy kisses along your throat. "You're into morning sex, aren't you?

"You talk too much." you groaned, going back to kissing him.

His phone went off. It distracted you for a second, but you rapidly went back to business as Felix started to massage your thigh. He was about to go further, when the ringtone went off again. With a loud sigh, he separated his body from yours and went to pick up his device. Answering, he still kept touching you, leaving you vulnerable in all ways.

"Yes?"

"Felix, I get L/N is hot, but try to keep quiet?" you heard Han say through the phone.

Felix stopped touching you as a frown made its way on his face. "What do you mean?"

"My room is next to hers, I can hear you two fuck."

A blush crept on your cheeks, both from embarrassment and anger. Did he really have the guts to listen to you in such an intimate moment?

"Well, don't listen?" Felix replied in a small voice.

"Trust me, I would, but you two are loud as fuck and the walls are thin like paper."

That meant you would have heard him if he slept with the girl, but you didn't. You couldn't get why this reassured you.

"Alright, sorry." Felix breathed out, passing a hand through his silver locks. "Are you still up for shopping later?"

"Yeah, for sure. Meet me there at 11?"

You looked at the clock and it was already 9.

"Yes. See you there, mate." He hung up and gave you an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry."

You shrugged. "I'm here for another month or so, we can definitely do this again."

He gave you a satisfied smirk. "I'll wait. But for now, how do you feel about working you up a little?"

You huffed. "I'm definitely keeping you around just for that."

Minutes later, you were even more of a mess than the previous night as you let out uncontrollable gasps and moans. Felix did take care of you afterwards, making you a coffee from the machine in the corner of the room.

"You seem to have a lot of experience." you complimented as you took the mug he gave you.

He shook his head. "Not so much, actually. I recently broke up with my now-ex fiancée."

You winced at the thought before drinking your coffee. "I'm so sorry."

"It's nothing. I caught her cheating and it wasn't the first time."

"That's even worse..." you mumbled.

"It is. It sucked a lot. It's one of the reasons why I needed to leave Australia for a bit, change scenery."

"Understandable really." you nodded.

"What about you? How come are you in the middle of nowhere with your hotel suite right next to your so-called enemy?" he questioned.

You rolled your eyes, already annoyed at the simple thought of him. "Pure coincidence, really. We did agree to put all of it aside for the time of the vacation, but he does get on my nerves a lot."

"Jisung can be insufferable, I'll give you that." he laughed. "But he's not that bad. In fact, he might me among the few real people I've met here. And trust me, I've talked to almost everyone in this hotel."

You shook your head while laughing with him. "I have no doubt he is, but we'll never get along. It's like that and always has been."

"If you say so."

six. - ten months and three weeks ago -

You hooked up one more time with Felix before he had to fly back to his home country. Promising each other to keep contact, you watched him leave the hotel after he hugged you tightly.

"Already missing your boo?" Han joked.

He had tagged along with sending Felix off with you, much to your displeasure. This was the first time you saw him again after the party at the beach.

"I'm sure he told you it was purely platonic." you spat out before heading back inside.

"I'm kidding." he said in a much softer tone as he ran to catch up with your speed. "Are you coming to the bonfire tonight?"

You lifted an eyebrow at him. "There is a bonfire?"

"Yeah, another thing the hotel is hosting."

You shrugged your shoulders. "I suppose I can go check it out."

"I'll be there if you want to join me."

You chuckled at him. "If it's to watch you with bimbo girl again, no thanks."

To this, a smirk slowly appeared on his face. "Jealous much, princess?"

You wanted to punch him. "Of course, I would totally be heartbroken to see you rub your dick against a fake booty." you exclaimed in a sarcastic way.

He deadpanned at you. "I get the point, L/N."

"Then you understand I'll most likely not be joining you tonight."

"I'm the only person you know here apart from Felix. And since he just left, you have no other option than sticking with me."

"Logical, indeed." you replied. "Alright, I suppose I could use some company, although I doubt you'll be able to entertain me much, Mr. Han."

"You'll see."

You had finally reached your suites by then. Thus, he walked inside while not forgetting to send a wink your way. You felt your face getting warmer as you went in your own.

With a deep breath to shake it off, you walked to your luggage in order to inspect the few articles of clothing that would be appropriate for tonight. Your dresses were either too tight or you had already wore a couple of them. There was no way you were going to show up in pants. Then, you spotted a pair of short shorts with a tight tank top laying next to it. Your mind worked as it figured if it would be a good outfit as you imagined it with your oversized knitted cardigan. This seemed to work.

A few hours went by and you had chosen to add a few necklaces to add to your look. Boringly staring at the television in front of your bed, you didn't notice it was nearing the start of the bonfire. With a loud pounding at your door, you let out an annoyed grunt before answering and letting the man in.

"You look rather lovely." he commented.

His clothing wasn't different from usual, apart from the sleeveless shirt he had on that made his arms look very fit. His hair was in a messier state that what you had seen before but it fitted him well.

"And you look like some fuckboy." you responded and he huffed at you. "May you lead the way, please?"

"Sure, ma'am."

He didn't wait for you. He didn't even look back at you as he left to head towards the elevator. Not wanting for him to close the doors in your face, you hurried to join him with a little sprint. You truly asked yourself why you hadn't chopped his head yet.

"So courteous of you." you joked, already out of breath from your running.

"I try to be." he said with the same damn smug look he always had on. "Stamina is not your forte?"

"I don't have time for maintaining these types of things."

The elevator opened and, this time, he extended his arm out for you to hold on. Reluctantly, you gripped onto it before he started to walk towards the beach. Well, towards the bar. Now you were really wondering how he hadn't had a harsh hangover yet.

"Shall I buy you a margarita?" he asked as you were getting closer to the barman.

"Sex on the beach."

"Freaky." he hummed, resulting to you giving him a punch on the stomach with your elbow.

He grunted at the contact, but didn't say more. He left you alone as he went to order your drinks. In the meantime, you watched the young adults partying near the already growing fire. You didn't think you would be experiencing something like this again after college, even less after you entered your father's company. Frankly, this was the first time you went to social events like these.

"Here." Han held out the cocktail to you while drinking his own. "I haven't had a sex on the beach in years. You've got good taste, L/N."

You chuckled. "I stick to what I know, that's all." you shrugged.

You began to walk again but in a slower pace to not spill out the liquids in your possession. Much to your excitement, you spotted a group of three men sitting on logs in a small circle as one played the guitar. Not even consulting Han first, you made your way to them. Although your sudden change of direction took him by surprise, he followed you as you greeted the young men.

"Good evening." you waved and one of them smiled at you brightly. "I'm Y/N, and this is my..." you paused for an instant, searching for what you should be calling him.

"We're business partners." Han finished for you. "I'm Han Jisung."

The guy holding the guitar opened his eyes wide at the mention of the name. "As in the future chairman of Han techs?" he questioned, to which Han nodded. "You had a brief time in the music industry, am I wrong?"

This took you by surprise, especially when you saw Han acquiesce. The man, who later introduced himself as Seungmin, told him he followed his platform back then and had been trying to learn the guitar for a while. You watched your companion of the evening sit next to him as he explained the chords and more. You had never seen him speak with such passion, it was almost attractive. The simple fact he knew how the play the guitar would have been good enough for you to be interested if he wasn't Han Jisung.

"And you're Y/N L/N of the L/N Corporation?" the guy sitting next to Seungmin asked.

"That's me." you said before sitting down next to him.

"I'm Changbin, and this is my friend Minho."

You bowed at him as he waved at you kindly. He focused back on watching Seungmin and Han interact.

"I'm surprised to see you with a Han, I thought your families didn't have the greatest relationship." Changbin stated.

"We didn't intend to be coming here at the same time." you briefly explained. "I wouldn't be around him in normal circumstances."

"I believe you, don't worry." he laughed.

"I heard you wanted to release more music." Seungmin said to Han who was the one holding the instrument now.

He chuckled awkwardly as he tuned the strings. "I won't be able to do that anymore."

"Why not?" you asked.

His head shot up to look back at you. There was glistening in his irises, which was probably the reflection of the fire. He sent you a knowing smile.

"Work." he responded simply, his eyes still on you.

It was as if this simple word meant a thousand things. There was something you couldn't understand in his tone, but you got one part right; he gave up music for the company.

"Play something."

Startled by your request, he blinked a couple of times before letting out a quiet cough. "I'm sure I'm rusty."

"Please." Seungmin insisted. "It'd be great to hear you perform acoustically."

Sighing in defeat, he adjusted his posture. Placing his fingers correctly, he frowned as concentration took over. Then, he strummed the strings which left a beautiful sound. It sounded oddly familiar, but you let him play. Just when you thought he couldn't have amazed you more, he started to sing. Now, in a normal context, you'd say you fell in love right there and then. But it's Han Jisung. So, you were being content with simply enjoying the melody for now. He was talented, that was evident, but you would never say it in his face.

He sang the outro of the song with his gaze on yours. He noticed the pink appearing on your face and he didn't want to assume he was the one making you feel like this. Embarrassed, you looked at the bottom of your glass that was already empty. Han ended the song beautifully and the boys clapped their hands.

"Thank you, J.One." Seungmin snickered as he patted Han's back.

It hit you. The familiarity you had with the track was because it was one on your playlist, credited by J.One.

"You're that rapper dude who sometimes sings that I keep hearing on the radio?" you exclaimed in total shock.

As shocked by your words as you were, he nodded. "My father doesn't know. Please, Y/N, I beg you to not tell him."

Y/N... it sounded pretty coming out of his mouth. Without even knowing, you did grow familiar to one another since the beginning of this vacation. It was only a matter of time before you dropped the honorifics, such as calling each other by your last name.

"I won't." you smiled at him.

This was the first genuine smile he got from you that was actually directed to him. His heart skipped a beat. He wished he had seen it before, it made you glow.

"Thank you." he said softly.

As he stared between the two of you, Minho coughed to break the moment. "How about we join the actual party?" he prompted and the others stood up as to agree with his suggestion.

Changbin offered you a hand, but you kindly declined. "Are you sure?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure, thank you. I'll join you all later.'

"If you say so." he shrugged before running to Seungmin and Minho.

Han, however, was still at the same spot on the log with the guitar laying next to him. He watched the gathering around the fire and sighed loudly. You gave him a curious look, but didn't dare to ask what was on his mind. It wasn't your place to do so. As if he would be telling you anyway.

"We have three weeks left." he said no one in particular, his stare still on the dancing people. "It goes by so fast."

"It does." you affirmed. "I can't wait to be back home, though. It can get lonely here."

"I'm here." he pointed out.

"I wouldn't call you an enjoyable presence."

He winced, faking to be hurt by your words. "I can't blame you. Still hurts."

"You'll get over it, whiny boy." you shook your head in exasperation.

Another silence took over. Rather than wanting to shoot yourself for having him around, it almost felt like you were at home. His presence alone, whether you liked it or not, was comforting.

"For real, though." he spoke again. "I don't want to go back."

"Why not?"

He moved his stare towards you. "You know why."

You shrugged. "It was our fate since the day we were born."

"Exactly." he snapped. "All of our life is already planned in every way even before we can speak. I didn't ask to work for my dad, and I surely didn't decide on hating you."

For the first time, you heard him out. You were listening to the real Han Jisung. In a way, you had to agree with him; life within a world like yours wasn't easy. People were expecting so much of you, the pressure was constant. In all honesty, you thought Han was used to this lifestyle and actually enjoyed it. You were proven wrong.

"If I'm being truthful, I would have never hated you in the first place." he continued. "I mean, I have no valid reason."

You felt a lump form in your throat. "You know your father will kill you for even addressing me like this."

"Like what?" he cocked his head to the side.

"So casually..." you murmured.

He laughed a little. "You're quite the only here who can relate to what I'm going through. I'm simply taking the opportunity to rant, that's all."

"We are rivals, Han."

"Jisung."

You blinked twice. "Pardon me?"

"Call me Jisung, please."

You nodded, uncomfortable by his request. "Well, Jisung, while we are at it, should I complain as well?"

He gestured to you. "Be my guest."

"Okay..." you breathed in. "I wish I could hang out with Chan like we used to back in college. Ever since he got to his new role, I barely see him out of his office."

He hummed as you talked. "Right, Bang..." he trailed off. "You really love him, don't you?"

You frowned at him. "He's a close friend, yeah. Probably the only one I have, to be honest."

He broke into laughter. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but this is kind of sad."

"Who are you to say that? The only friend I am aware you have is Felix Lee." you scoffed.

He suddenly went back to his serious face, now sending you a glare. "I hate you."

"Breaking news." you said sarcastically.

"It was a joke." he snorted. "I literally just told you I don't really."

You realized you didn't get that this was what he had insinuated when he said he wouldn't hate you if it wasn't for his family. Thinking about it now, you also couldn't pinpoint a good argument on why you couldn't get along. Frankly, you had every aspect to be bonding: both heirs of grand companies, both pressured by the public, and both on a vacation to run away from it all. Adding the fact he was able to keep your holiday interesting in a way, he was fine really.

"I don't hate you either."

This seemed to take him by surprise. "You don't?"

You shook your head as a no. "I grew up hating your family, I naturally assumed you are as much of an asshole. I mean, you are, but in a nice way."

"Thank you?" he said, sounding more like a question. "I don't agree with most of what they are doing. I would rather be doing my music than working for them."

You chuckled. "I would have never guessed you are J.One."

"Well, I don't go around telling people. I'm surprised Seungmin knew, he must have been following my stuff for a while."

Talking about him, Seungmin had ran back to you. Taking your hands in his, he forced you up to go join the others. You argued you didn't feel like partying, but gave in eventually. Soon after, it was Jisung's turn to get fetched by Minho. Changbin had bought some beers for you all and you jammed to the music as you drank and enjoyed the warmth of the fire. At some point, you didn't notice how, but Jisung was casually swirling you around in a messy manner, the sand not cooperating with the stability of his feet. As for you, you were laughing uncontrollably for pretty much nothing as he kept guiding your body along the beats coming from the speakers. You hadn't had this much fun in a while, it felt amazing.

To your disappointment, the night came to an end. People dispersed on the beach as they regrouped in smaller crowds. Not much dancing was happening. You saw most of them heading back to the hotel, Minho and Seungmin among them. Changbin stayed behind as to make sure you and Jisung were doing okay. The man had one too many drinks, but you were surprisingly able to walk in a straight line still.

"Is he always like this?" Changbin laughed as Han tripped over his own feet again.

"I wouldn't know." you snickered with him. "But I'll have to admit, he's kind of cute being all lost and shit."

"I heard that!" Jisung smirked, now standing.

He clumsily joined you and slumped his arm around your small figure to get some balance. "Easy there." you laughed out.

"I'm fine."

Changbin helped you bring him to his room as you laid him on his bed. He argued with you that he didn't need to be taken care of, but the way he stood on the mattress told you otherwise. You assure Changbin that you could handle him from then on and he left the two of you alone, doubt still plastered on his face.

"Do you need anything?" you asked the drunk man as he attempted to walk up to you.

"I need you with me." he pouted which was too adorable for your liking.

"I'm already here with you."

In response, he grabbed your arm and dragged you to his bed along with him. Though he tried to do it carefully, he pushed you under the convers and tucked you in as if you were a toddler. You didn't fight back.

"I meant to stay with me for tonight." he grinned before going into the blankets next to you. "Do you like Felix?"

The abrupt change of topic caught you by surprise. Slowly, you moved your gaze to him as questions popped in your head. Was he in his right mind?

"I think he's a great guy, yeah." you responded although you were quite lost.

"He was a good fuck?"

You slapped him across his chest. "This is so inappropriate."

He scoffed. "Is it? I heard your moans for hours that night. Consider yourself lucky I only complained once."

"Were you listening all along? You pervert..."

You could not see his face due to the lack of lighting, but you could easily tell he was rolling his eyes at you. "Not intentionally." he sighed. "But quite honestly, I hated hearing you scream his name."

"Was I that annoying?" you joked.

"No, the opposite."

To this, you stood up from the pillow under your head and tried to find his eyes within the darkness. With the little light coming from the moon, you made out his features and saw some sort of sadness. If you weren't confused before, you definitely were now.

"Sorry, what?" you whispered.

It was his turn to get up from the mattress until his face was to your level. He put his hand up to your face, hesitant, but placed it to the side of your head in the end.

"If you haven't figured it out yet, L/N..." he started but stop when his breath got caught in his throat.

He was nervous. You could tell.

"What didn't I figure out?" you asked softly.

Your breathing wasn't doing any better than his. It was oddly uneven while you were almost shaking from how vulnerable he made you feel. Stroking the apple of your cheeks, he took a deep breath.

"I like you."

seven. - now -

"A pleasure, Mr. Bang." Han bowed to your friend.

You were still on the couch. While people would immediately think you were napping, you were more awake than ever. The simple sound of his voice was enough to make you fall asleep on a usual basis, but you felt like it could not keep you more conscious at the moment.

"The feeling is reciprocated." Chan bowed as well. "I apologize for Miss L/N sleeping in my office. We had some paperwork this morning and she didn't get much sleep."

Han hummed. "Not surprising considering her reputation."

It stung. Jisung would be the most caring and soft person when you would be alone together. But when put in a situation where a scandal would break if they ever say you interact with your supposed competitor, he was a totally different person. His words were harsh with no feeling. He was like the Han Jisung you used to despise so much.

"What reputation, may I ask?" Chan asked.

"Has she not been seen out with many gentlemen these past few months?"

He was referring to you father's selection of potential husbands he had forced you to go on dates with.

Chan let out an amused chuckle. "You're assuming she spent the night with them?"

"I'm simply talking about what is said."

Chan paused. How much you wished to open your eyes to see how he was reacting.

"Shall we jump to business, Mr. Han?" he changed the subject.

"Right." he coughed. "I apologize."

"I'd have to say congratulations for your new position."

"Thank you very much, I only hope I can be as great of a man as my father was."

"I know the feeling." Chan sighed.

They started to discuss new arrangements and all. You did doze off to sleep eventually, though it took you a while as you were trying to ignore the mixed feelings you had from when Jisung was bad mouthing you. An hour later, Chan woke you up, telling you he was alone now and that you should get home to get ready for the evening.

"Can I crash at your place?" you pouted.

"Y/N..." he said in a stern voice.

"Your bed is much more comfortable!" you argued. "And I don't want to face my dad. I bet he'll be talking to me about the important figures we'll see tonight and I am in no mood to listen to him."

He shook his head. "I have to get ready myself, I'm sorry. I promise I'll be sticking to you like glue for the entire ceremony, though."

"Oof." you made a face. "That's a tough promise you're making there, Mr. Bang. Plus, I know you'll have to speak with Han again. Don't involve me in this."

He let out an exasperate sigh. "What is it with you two? It's as if the hate sky rocked since last summer. What even happened there for you two to be so... disgusted by the other?"

Your mouth went agape. Staring at him blankly, you didn't know what to say. As much as you had tried to hide your relationship that was far from hatred, maybe you had overdone it.

"What are you talking about?"

He sighed again, visibly irritated by your cluelessness. "You know, Y/N. You always talk about him and throw whatever insult that comes to your mind. You didn't even leave just now when I told you he was coming."

Yeah, Chan definitely knew.

"Nothing happened last year."

"Bullshit." he muttered with a 'tsk'.

You got up from the sofa abruptly as you grabbed your purse. "I better get ready."

You stormed out of his office, leaving him no time to stop you from doing so. You felt horrible lying to him like this, but there was no way you were going to let anyone know about you and Jisung. Maybe this was your sign that it was all too risky. You should have done what you told yourself to do when you came back from vacation: stop everything with him. Why did you fall into his trap when he had called you not even 24 hours later while convincing you that it could be a secret?

"Hi, Y/N." Jeongin beamed at you as you arrived home.

"Is my dad here?" you asked, not even having the energy to speak properly to him.

"He left earlier. He went to the convention center in advance."

"Alright." you exhaled. "Want to help me out with getting ready?"

His eyes grew bigger. "I could call Miss Shin instead, no?"

You laughed as he mentioned one of your colleagues. "Jeongin, you're more than capable to help me. I know you like fashion anyway."

"I do..." he confirmed. "But this... it's not very my job to do so."

You rolled your eyes. "You're being dramatic. I'm asking you as a friend."

He ended up agreeing. In your room, he laid out the dress he bought for you on your bed. He asked you to pick out shoes to go along with it while he allowed himself to go through your jewelry box.

"Hoops?" he asked while showing you the pair of earrings. "And this golden chain?"

"Sure." you shrugged. "Do you think I should go with the black heels or the platforms? No, wait. I have these navy ones here." you exclaimed, rummaging through your rack of heels.

"Black ones are fine." he laughed. "I don't think navy matches well with red."

"Good point."

As you picked the shoes and brought them next to the gown, Jeongin spoke again. "I heard you yesterday." You froze in action. "Well, in fact, it was not the first time I heard you discuss with Mr. Han over the phone."

You were fucked.

"As in..." you started but couldn't even finish your sentence properly.

"As in I know you two are faking your little dislike towards each other."

You mentally cursed at yourself for not being careful enough. This only confirmed one thing in your mind: you needed to put an end to this as soon as you could.

"I'll stop this tonight, I swear."

Jeongin chuckled. "I really don't care, Y/N. The past year was the happiest I've ever seen you. If I were you, I wouldn't cut out the only thing that brought me comfort in a really long time."

You bit down your lip, hesitant. "I have to. I'm sure he already got a lot to prove as a new chairman by now. If we keep this going, this will only mark his image for life."

"You do you." he breathed out. "I'm just saying that you do seem fond of him and that it's a shame you'd want to throw it all away."

You didn't say anything. Instead, you picked the dress up and walked to your mirror in the corner of your room. Putting it up in front of your figure, you couldn't help but see yourself dressed like this with Jisung by your side. That would be the perfect picture, if it wasn't for your families. It was an impossible picture.

"Do you want help with your hair?" Jeongin grinned.

eight. - ten months and a week ago -

You cursed in a mumble at the sight of the man. As you were about to turn around to avoid him, he spotted you before you could do anything. Excusing himself to the woman he was already trying to woo, he ran to where you were standing.

"How delightful to see you here." he said cheerfully, panting from his little run.

"The feeling is the same, Mr. Ko." you faked a smile. "I didn't expect to be seeing you again."

"I had to come and apologize about my behaviour the other day. It was grandly inappropriate if me."

"It was." you agreed.

"If you allow me, I'd love to invite you for a drink."

You smiled awkwardly, until you felt a hand come around your waist.

"If she gets a drink tonight, it would be from me solemnly."

Mr. Ko's gaze went straight to Jisung as blush crept on his face. Bowing apologetically to him, he mumbled some sort of excuses before taking off to where he was previously sat at.

"Great, my knight in shining armour." you groaned as you slapped Jisung's hand away from your body. "I had this under control."

"I know, babe, but it was my time to shine." he smirked at you, placing his hand back on you. "Don't act like you didn't like me getting all protective."

"Going on that date with you last week was a mistake." you grumbled before walking away from him.

"Baby." he whined, catching up to you.

"You're such a child."

He grabbed your wrist to stop you and spun you around, your body now clashing to his chest. Before you could process a reaction, his lips found their way to yours as he laid a small peck.

"You love me like that." he said softly.

You slapped his chest and got away from his grip. "I said not in public." you nagged.

He looked around for a moment and pecked your lips again.

"Han Jisung!" you yelled out.

"There is no one."

He was now holding your hand, his thumb rubbing it gently. You scanned your surroundings for a second, and finally gave in as you let him pull you into a loving kiss.

"You do know they use this lobby for wedding ceremonies, right?" he said once he pulled away.

"Already thinking about marrying me?" you perked an eyebrow.

"I told you, princess, I've been in love with you for years."

With a huff, you started to head towards your room, him having abandoned his some days ago. "Yeah, well, keep dreaming. Once we come back home, this arrangement is over."

He shook his head violently. "Stop bringing it up, please."

"We're leaving in a week, Ji." you exhaled in frustration. "We have to face reality."

"Or." he started, taking both of your hands which stopped you from walking. "We could enjoy the remaining time we have together and worry about the rest later?"

You let go of his hands as you rolled your eyes, going straight back to where your room was. He followed behind closely and you let the door open for him to come in as well.

"Y/N, please." he said, closing the door behind him.

Throwing your belongings on the coffee table, you acted as if you were not listening. Turning on the television as you let yourself fall on the couch was his limit. He took the remote from you and aggressively turned off the screen. With a glare, he threw it away next to you before putting his hands on his hips.

"Are you avoiding this conversation?"

You groaned. "I'm not. It's just..." you cut yourself by rubbing your face. "This is messed up."

"I'll give you that." he sighed and went to sit with you. "We can stop if you want."

"I don't want to stop." you admitted. "But that's the issue. I'm simply trying to prepare myself for what's coming."

He put his hand on your thigh as a way to comfort you. "I know it sucks, which is why I'm suggesting we should only enjoy the time we have left as much as we can. Can you do that for me?"

You moved to meet his eyes and they were filled with hope.

When he confessed two weeks ago, you hadn't realized yet how sincere he was. It wasn't easy to perceive considering he had almost passed out after spilling out the words 'I like you'. Still, the morning after, you had the courage to ask him about it and that's when he told you everything. From the first time he saw you and thought you were simply gorgeous to when you defended yourself to the journalists by saying you didn't need your father's help to get to where you were now. He admired your honesty, your journey in your work, but mostly, he admired your sensitivity. He wasn't blind, he saw how you took care of Chan when he became CEO. The man was close to a mental breakdown until you came in with the biggest smile to cheer him up. He loved how unbothered you could be, how brilliant you were, and how you remained respectful to him even with your disagreements.

So seeing him almost sacrifice his career for the sake of being with you even if it meant for only a week or so, you could not resist it. Because, frankly, you had fallen for him as well. For the sensitive and ambitious man you grew to know.

"Okay." you nodded. "We'll worry about after later."

He smiled and brought you closer, kissing you for the hundredth time of the day. Gosh, how you loved the way he kissed you. It was always filled with such care and love, you were wondering how he was even the same man you thought to hate.

"I spotted this karaoke restaurant-bar in the city." he said, still holding you tight.

"What about it?"

"Should we have a date instead of ordering food?"

You looked at him incredulously. "I thought you hated going out."

"I don't mind if I get to treat you some good food."

You slapped his chest once more, a way to hide the blush appearing on your face. "You're so cheesy."

It took you both no time to get ready and dress up for the occasion. Jisung had called a cab so you wouldn't have to walk all the way there. It was crowded, to say the least. It looked like the karaoke had already started as you saw two girls in front of the mic with drinks in their hands. They sang with their tone very off and it wasn't the most pleasing thing to hear when arriving. Jisung tugged your arm and led you to a table a bit further. A waiter came up to you, asking you if you wanted something to drink to start the evening.

"Just a beer is fine." Jisung smiled at him.

"Margarita for me."

He nodded before leaving you with the menus.

"Back at it with the margaritas?" Jisung teased at you.

You shrugged. "Gets me drunk the fastest."

"Go easy on the alcohol tonight."

You frowned. "So you care about my well being?"

"No, I just don't want to deal with your hangover tomorrow." he said with a smug on his face.

"Jerk." you huffed.

When the waiter came back with your drinks, you took the opportunity to order your food as well. It was nothing too extravagant: some fries with chicken. A few people had sung on the stage and you saw a group of girls marking their names on the lineup list. Jisung seemed to notice as he got up and stood behind them. Turning to look at you, you saw the smirk on his face.

"What are you doing?" you mouthed to him.

He only shrugged and turned back his attention on the iPad where you could sign up. He spoke with the man hosting the show for a brief moment and noted down something on the screen. As he walked back to your table, you were shaking your head in exasperation.

"What did you do, now?" you said with a warning tone.

"You'll see, baby." he replied with a wink. "Let's enjoy our food for now."

You dug into your meal, not even caring about your manners anymore as you picked up the chicken drumstick with your hands. Jisung was as messy as you were, chewing on the meat. His cheeks were full, it was adorable. You saw some barbecue sauce dripping from the corner of his mouth. Although you knew he was probably going to mock you for it, you grabbed his face with your clean hand and placed a kiss on his lips. Licking the remaining of the sauce, you hummed at the taste.

Meanwhile, Jisung's mind had stopped working. This might had been the hottest thing he'd seen you do, especially since you gave him a flirtish look while your tongue was wiping off the food on your lips.

"Han Jisung and Y/N L/N." the host called out, taking the both of you by surprise.

You rushed to clean up your mouths and hands before walking up to the stage. You knew Jisung was a good singer, but as for you, it was another story. In all honesty, you hadn't sung in years.

"You chose Volcano by J.One." the host read out loud as confusion took place on his face. "Never heard of this one... Oh well, the stage is yours, lovebirds."

You went to look at Jisung in panic, but instead, you came face to face with a microphone that he was holding out to you. You did know the song, you had even added it to your favourites.

"This is like the worst of your songs that you could have picked out." you complained.

"I know, it's a hard one, but I know you have it in your playlist." he said cheekily.

As you were about to protest, the music started to play as the lyrics appeared on the screen in front of you. You couldn't move, taken over by fear and nervousness. But Jisung was doing perfectly fine. He was in his element. As the first verse started, he sang along in a mesmerizing voice. He was simply amazing. You were almost lost in him when he nudged your arm, signaling for you to sing along with him. Even though you were frightened to do so, his presence alone gave you the confidence to bring the mic close to your mouth and sing along with him. You were a little off, but Jisung encouraged you to continue and didn't even bother to correct you. The song came to an end and he did not hesitate before kissing you softly before bringing you into a warm hug.

"You did great, princess." he whispered in your ear.

That night, let's say things got steamy. Walking back clumsily in your room, he was almost biting your lips as the eagerness took over him. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you jumped around his waist while he held you firmly by the thighs. Although you had made out tons of times already, he never wanted to go further, saying he wanted to make it special. Tonight seemed to be it.

"Was it better with Felix?" he rasped out as he walked to your bedroom.

"Jealous, Han?" you snickered at him as he put you down on the edge of the bed carefully.

"I am." he said with confidence. "I'll make you feel good, baby."

"We'll see." you laughed.

To sum it up, he did way better than Felix, even when you thought it would be hard to do so. While Felix was rough, Jisung was careful and liked to build up the tension instead of going straight for it. It was frustrating in a way, but it did make the actual action ten times more worth it.

You woke up in his arms, fully naked, and his eyes were still closed shut. With his lips slightly parted open, he looked like a child taking his nap. Turning around to get a better view of him, it was enough to wake him up. He made a pout with his mouth while opening his eyes in a squint, taken aback from the morning sunlight coming right on his face.

"Rough morning?" you chuckled.

"I don't want to get up." he grumbled and brought you closer to him. "Let's stay in bed today."

"All day?"

"All day." he affirmed before kissing your temple. "Unless you had something else in mind."

"Well, you kind of made me unable to use my legs." you said, recalling the previous night. "Staying in bed it is."

"You asked for it."

nine. - ten months ago -

Six days turned into five, that turned into four, that turned into three, until it got to zero. The day you had tried to ignore for the past week. Your flight wasn't scheduled until the afternoon, so you had plenty of time to pack your baggage. But the morning was rough.

"Coffee or tea?" Jisung asked casually as he stood in front of the counter.

Your lack of answer meant a hundred of things. As he looked up to see you, you were standing in front of the sliding door to the balcony, not moving a bit. He didn't need to ask you what was on your mind, he knew it already. With a loud sigh, he walked up to you and gave you a back-hug as he put his head on your shoulder.

"I'll miss this view." you breathed out. "The water is so pretty."

"It is." he hummed. "I'll make you a tea, okay?" he said and placed a peck on your cheek.

Again, you didn't answer. He let go of you and went ahead with preparing your beverages. Before you noticed time had passed, he was back with a mug that he held out to you. You mouthed a small 'thanks' but didn't take your eyes off the scenery.

"You know we can keep contact, right?" he broke the silence.

You shook your head. "In another life, yes."

It cut right through his heart, you were right. He hated how right you were.

"We could try?"

"Jisung, stop. How would this even work? We get caught once and it'll be enough for us to get disowned." you rationalized. "This sucks, I know, but it's our reality."

"You rather get married off some rich old man?" he joked but it had some truth in it.

"It looks like this is what is waiting for me, yes. Or Chan." you shrugged. "It has been the plan since birth, just like yours to become chairman is."

"I don't want it."

You scoffed. "Yeah, well, do you have a choice? We're stuck in this."

How much he wanted to shut you up and tell you that things could be different. He wanted to beg you to not go back home and run away with him. Your thing lasted barely a month, but it was enough for him to know he wanted you with him, even if it meant to disappoint his family.

"I just wish it was easier."

"I know."

He slowly came closer to you and put his hand on your jaw which made you turn your focus on him. The tears you were holding in were finally streaming down your face as you had eye contact with him. His touch, despite being a simple gesture, made you weak.

"I'm sorry." he almost whispered. "It's my fault we started this while knowing perfectly it couldn't happen."

You nodded slowly. "Yeah, fuck you for that." you chuckled. "I really should have gotten with Felix instead."

He let out a huff. "You're still a pain in the ass."

"Just getting back to my old antics." you shrugged with a smirk appearing through your crying face.

"I see how it is, L/N." he played along. "Is there a way for me to shut that annoying mouth of yours?"

"Just try to make me shut up."

He then kissed you. You started to feel something wet on your cheeks, but it wasn't your own tears. It was him. He was crying. A knot formed in your belly as it started to truly hit how this was the last time you'd be able to kiss him. You hated how easy you fell for him and how cruel the whole situation was. When he backed away, he still leaned his forehead on yours as he plunged his gaze into yours.

"We don't mention this to anyone." he said and you could clearly hear the pain in his voice.

"This never happened." you confirmed.

He gave you a quick peck and let go of you to finish off with packing. You were still standing at the same spot, unable to process fully what was happening. Your mind was elsewhere, too preoccupied with the memories of your vacation with him.

"Can I keep your hoodie?" you blurted out.

He stared at you in confusion. "My big white hoodie? Why?"

"A souvenir I guess?"

His mouth turned into as smile and he grabbed his sweatshirt before throwing it your way. "It looks better on you, anyway."

The way to the airport was silent. In the taxicab, the driver had put some music to fill in the lack of discussion. In a discreet way, Jisung reached his hand out to hold yours and gave it a squeeze. Chills travelled down your body as you fixated your linked fingers. The effect he had on you was insane.

The ride was too quick for your liking as the driver pulled over in front of the airport. He kindly helped the two of you with getting your luggage out of his trunk. Jisung paid him and you were now off to find your flight. Since he had one stop to do for a work meeting in Europe, he wasn't going to be coming back home on the same plane. And so, here came the grand moment you had both dreaded for.

He straightened up his posture to face you properly and an emotionless expression took over. Still, you could tell how much he hated acting like this. You put on the same façade and bowed at him respectfully. You didn't want to take the risk of getting caught by someone.

"I sure hope you have a safe flight, Han."

"I hope the same for you, L/N."

Calling each other like this used to feel normal, but it had become such a foreign thing to do. It felt wrong, impersonal, almost mean. It was weird.

"I'll see you around." you nodded your head at him.

With a hum, he passed by next to you closely to head towards the gate he needed to be at. Even if people would see it as him bumping into you intentionally, he still took the time to briefly catch your hand. You felt something cold land into it. Before you could question him about it, he was already far as he walked quickly away from you. You looked at your hand and saw something shiny dangle. Bringing it close to your face, you saw what he had dropped.

It was a simple golden chain accessorized with a charm: a rose.

ten. - now -

Your father had sent a limousine to come pick you up. Of course, you had to have a grand entrance at the ceremony. There would be journalists and cameras, and so it was primordial for you to be looking at your very best. Jeongin helped you get in the car like a gentleman. You would have asked him to come with you, but the guy did deserve a break. He kissed your cheek goodbye and wished you an enjoyable evening.

When your limousine arrived in front of the convention center, you could already see cameras flashes and microphones being held out towards your direction. Taking a deep breath, your door opened as your driver offered his hand to help you out. You put on a fake smile for the pictures but denied any kind of interviews. You were not in the mood for that. As you entered the building, you were impressed by how Chan's team had decorated the place. It was very formal but it still had a hint of comfort. Before you knew it, your father had spotted you. Welcoming you with arms open, he gave you a small hug.

"Y/N, my dear, I am happy you made it here safely." he grinned. "I would love to present you to someone."

You deadpanned at him. "Another of your potential suitors for me?"

"He is young and vibrant. An excellent businessman for his age, I shall mention."

As you grumbled under your breath in annoyance, your father brought you over to a group of men, all of them wearing a tuxedo. They all looked the same...

Then, you caught a glimpse of a man who was visibly younger than most of them. He stood closely to who you assumed to be his parents as he bowed instinctively to the others. Upon seeing your father, he smiled politely.

"Mr. L/N." he bowed.

"Hi, Mr. Hwang." your father beamed at him. "I found my daughter that I wanted to introduce you to."

You shut your eyes in internal pain. He really had to present you like you were some kind of product to sell? You never liked being your father's pet, even less now that he just wanted to marry you off someone wealthy.

"A pleasure to meet you." Mr. Hwang nodded his head at you. "I'm Hyunjin."

"Nice to meet you." you replied back with a bow. "I believe I saw you in a publicity recently, no?"

He laughed embarrassingly. "Right, I'm a model."

Ah. He was one of those guys.

"I assume you were invited to help with Mr. Bang's publicity team."

"Exactly." he confirmed. "You know the business well."

"I actually am about to become CEO of L/N Corporation."

He bowed again. "I apologize, I really didn't mean it like that, I was simply trying to make the conversation."

You knew he was being honest, he seemed too clueless of a man to be saying such things intentionally. Maybe models weren't as bad as you thought.

"It's okay, really." you chuckled. "Have you met Mr. Bang yet?" He shook his head. "He's a close friend of mine. I can present you to him."

His eyes went wide. "Really?"

His mother nudged his arm for being informal and he coughed shyly as he apologized.

"It's fine, really. Come, I'll introduce you."

You took his hand in yours and led him towards Chan who had a drink with some of his colleagues. He noticed you were approaching him and excused himself to come give you a big hug.

"Well, aren't you pretty today? It's good that you look pleasing to the eye once in a while." he joked.

"Thank you, Chan, really." you grumbled. "Anyway, I wanted you to meet Hwang Hyunjin."

The latter bowed politely to your friend. "Good evening, Mr. Bang. I don't know if you remember me, but I did appear in one of your promotion videos once."

Chan shifted to his professional role and nodded as Hyunjin spoke. "I remember. I even asked one of the leading directors to contact you again."

"Really? I haven't heard from them."

You left them at it and walked back to your father who had ended up flirting with one of the ladies from the Bang's engineer team. You understood that he might need someone ever since your mom left, but did he really have to do it during an event like this?"

"Father." you interrupted him and he glared at you.

"Aren't you with Mr. Hwang?"

"I offered to introduce him to Mr. Bang."

He sighed in disappointment. "Alright, maybe Hwang wasn't the right fit." He put his hand on your back and started to walk closer to the bar. "I have someone else I want you to meet."

"Yay." you said in a bored tone. "I think I can pass for this one-"

"Mr. Lee!" you father called out. "May I present to you my daughter."

Mr. Lee turned around at the mention of his name and his eyes fell upon your figure. Immediately, the both of you stared back at each other in pure shock.

"Y/N!" he exclaimed.

"Felix!" you said in the same tone of voice.

He pulled you into a tight hug, leaving your poor father in confusion. "You know each other..." he trailed off.

"Mr. L/N, I met your daughter during her vacation last year."

You dad nodded his head slowly. "I see. I will leave you two reconnect. Call me if you need anything." he said as he put his hand on your shoulder for a brief moment.

As he walked away from you two, you exchanged laughs. "What a coincidence! How is it that you are here and not in Australia?" you questioned him while he offered you a glass of champagne.

"I'm here to do business with Chan. I didn't know you were familiar with him."

"We are literally best friends." you chuckled. "How do you know him?"

"I'm sure he told you he grew up in Australia." You nodded. "We used to be neighbours."

"Wow." you let out in a breath. "Such a small world, uh?"

"It is." he laughed. "Your father is quite a persona. He was bragging about you for a solid ten minutes earlier."

"Oh gosh." you said while hiding your face in embarrassment.

"Yeah, he wasn't being very subtle about his intentions. Let me reassure you right away, I won't ask you to marry me. We already established how we feel about that last year."

You smiled at him. "Thank you, Felix. I'm glad I don't have Chan as my only friend tonight."

He shrugged. "There is Han too." he pointed to nowhere in particular. "I saw him earlier."

You huffed in disgust. "I don't intend to speak with him."

He gave you a soft smile. "Quit it, Y/N. I know about you two."

Your eyes grew bigger and you nudged his arm. "Say it louder... How the hell do you know?"

"Jisung isn't so good with handling these kinds of things on his own. Don't worry, I didn't tell anyone and I think I'm the only one who's aware of what happened."

You were going to snap at Jisung, that was for sure.

"Great..." you muttered under your breath.

"You do realize how in love he is with you, right?" he asked before taking a sip of his champagne.

"Yes, I'm well aware of it. It can't happen, though. There is too much to risk if it gets out in the news."

"Did you know he refused to take his father's spot?"

You almost choked on your drink. You were certain to have heard correctly back in Chan's office that he did, in fact, get the position. What was Felix even saying?

"He did what now?"

Felix couldn't answer. Your dear best friend had to interrupt your conversation as he took the spot on stage with a microphone. He started to thank the guests for coming and explained the purpose of this gathering. You were not listening one bit. Instead, your eyes wandered around the crowd as you tried to find the one man who had taken such a huge part of your life. Then, you spotted him. Close to the stage, he was next to his father as he was listening attentively to Chan. He looked extremely good, and he was matching you. Dressed in a burgundy red suit with a tie of the same colour, you wanted to curse Jeongin for having chosen your dress. He surely knew Jisung was going to wear something similar. It was as if he knew you were staring when his own gaze found yours. He sent a quick smile your way, one so darn adorable that it could make you melt, and turned his attention back to Chan. You needed to speak with him, and fast.

The second after Chan finished his speech, you excused yourself to Felix and went straight ahead towards Jisung. The latter had left his family and was looking at the pamphlet of the new Bang inc. projects instead. He didn't even see you arrive until you grabbed him by the arm harshly, dragging him behind as you headed towards a random hallway where you could discuss privately. He started to let out incoherent complaints but you ignored him. You soon found an empty conference room and shoved him inside, not forgetting to lock the door behind you and close the curtains.

"Y/N, the fuck?" he exclaimed.

"I could ask you the same." you said angrily, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

You saw him stare up and down at you. He really had the guts to check you out while you were beyond furious with him.

"Han Jisung." you yelled out sternly and he jumped a little.

"What is it?" he asked innocently.

"Why am I hearing that you refused your position as chairman of Han technologies?"

Oh. It suddenly clicked in his mind. He had planned to tell you himself, but things didn't go his way.

"I'm resigning from the company."

You stared at him blankly. "Sorry, what?" you asked, completely bewildered by his statement.

"I refused to sign the contract this morning and I'm getting off duties by the end of the month." he said calmly. "It was too much for me."

You shook your head in disbelief. "You can't do that. Jisung, we talked about this before. This is your whole career, why did you-" you cut yourself off, too shaken up by his announcement. "Have you thought this out?"

"I did." he said with an elongated breath. "My dad discovered my music not so long ago and we argued a bit about it."

"Why didn't you tell me this?"

He ignored your question. "He ended up being quite okay with it. He said he didn't realize how much pressure he was putting on me and that I could do what I want as long as it pays off my bills. Plus, he said I could always come back if it doesn't work." he shrugged.

"Wow." was the the only thing you could say. "He really said that?"

He laughed. "Not exactly, my mom is the one I have to thank for that, she talked him through it."

"Makes more sense." you hummed.

"I also told them about you."

Now, you really wanted to punch him in the balls right there and then.

"Just like you told Felix?" you huffed.

"And Chan... and Jeongin..." he saw how you were about to beat the shit out of him and he held up his hands in defense. "They figured it out by themselves, I simply confirmed their suspicions."

You rolled your eyes. "Is this why he bought me this dress to be matching with you?"

He smirked and nodded proudly. You sighed in disbelief and sat down on one of the chairs, gesturing for him to continue.

"I think you know it by now, but I'm so hopelessly in love with you."

You grunted, absolutely enraged by his behaviour. You could simply not believe how dumb of him it was to give up such an opportunity, and then tell your friends about your mistake of the previous year. And now, he really had to top it all with declaring his love for you?

"You keep being fucking unrealistic with this whole thing." you said, shaking your head in disapproval. "We have decades of rivalry between us, we were only being stupid with what we did."

He scoffed. "So last year meant nothing to you?"

"What I'm saying is that it was something that shouldn't have happened. I wanted to put a stop to it tonight." you affirmed but he didn't seem convinced.

"You're wearing the necklace." he pointed to the rose charm hanging around your neck.

You shrugged. "It was going well with the dress, that's all."

"It does, and you simply look stunning tonight." he said as he walked closer to you.

You stood up to come face to face with him. "Don't dodge the subject with your flirts, Han."

"What is stopping us, really? A career? I've already given up mine and I know for a fact that you hate your job." he said softly, getting more and more close to you.

"Our families-" you started but he interrupted you with a laugh.

"You hate your dad and I've talked to mine already. It's okay."

He hesitated, but reached his hand up to your face. By then, you didn't even know how to breathe anymore. It was the first time he touched you so intimately since that moment in the taxicab. It was as electrifying as you remembered.

"Please tell me you feel the same." he said in a whisper. "There was not a single moment where I didn't regret not trying to convince to run away with me."

"Jisung..." you breathed out.

"I won't force you into anything. If wanting to put an end to this is what you want, we'll do just that. I won't say I didn't try at least."

Your faces were millimeters apart. It was a question of time before he was going to kiss you. But you backed away.

"We can't."

And just like that, you ran away from him, leaving him alone in the room. You didn't know exactly why you did so. No matter what the reason was, you just wanted to go home. The rollercoaster he caused was too much to bear with. You didn't even say bye to Chan and you left.

The driver was still in the street, so you called him out and asked him to bring you home. He did look at you suspiciously, but obliged nonetheless. Before you knew it, you were at your front porch and the driver left you alone. You sat down, not even trying to keep your dress clean, and you cried. You weren't sad nor happy, just confused. It was a few minutes after when Jeongin joined you and engulfed you in a hug. He didn't ask what happened, but he just knew you needed someone for you at least.

"I should have said congratulations to Chan at least." you finally spoke and Jeongin allowed himself to let out a small chuckle.

"He knows you're proud of him already."

"Yeah, but it's still shitty of me." you sobbed. "And, Innie, I fucked up so bad..."

"You dumped him there, didn't you?"

Damn, this kid was good at guessing. But he did know most things about you so it was only natural he got you right on that.

"I don't even know why..." you groaned as more tears came out. "He's so... ugh, and I'm like... meh."

He cocked his head to the side, unsure if he understood what you meant. "That's a way to put it I guess?"

"I meant that he just does so much for our... whatever we have, to work out and I'm being a bitch by ditching him."

He smiled awkwardly. "I can't say you're wrong with this one."

"And what am I even going to do if this turns out to be a fiasco? I'll get fired, my dad will disown me, and I'll live off an underground musician's income?"

Jeongin winced at your reflection. "You're overthinking now..."

"I know." you grunted. "It's just... What do I do?"

You turned to look at him properly and noticed how discouraged he seemed to be with you. As you thought, he gave you a look.

"What?" you sighed.

"You know what to do, Y/N. You're just afraid." he explained but you didn't quite get it. "You've been this perfect daughter for years and you're scared of change."

"I mean, aren't we all?"

"Some are more daring than others, just like Han dared to confront his parents because he loves you."

As realization slowly crept in your mind, you buried yourself in your arms. Why did you have to be such an ass to him?

"You're saying I should go back and say I want him too?" you mumbled.

"Essentially, yeah. But like I said, you do you." he said as he patted your back. "No matter what you do, I'm sure Han will understand."

"Do you mind driving me back?" you said as you shot your head up, pouting at him.

He deadpanned at you. "You came all the way back here just to go back?"

"Yeah?" you chuckled embarrassingly.

"Alright, but go clean up your face. Your mascara didn't hold up right."

A few minutes later, you were in Jeongin's car as he drove you back to the convention center. To not cause a fuss, he went all around to the back of the building so you could walk in more discreetly.

"What if he left too?" you said in panic as you were about to leave the vehicle.

"Jeez, Y/N, just go!" he rushed you out.

You entered and arrived in an empty hallway, not creepy at all. Still, you could hear the chatter coming from the main event so you simply followed it. On your way, you came to the washrooms and heard moaning from there.

"Gross." you mumbled to yourself.

Moving on, you started to get more familiar to your surroundings when you saw the room where you had left Jisung earlier. Only now, the door was open and the lights turned off which meant he had gone back to the party probably. You finally arrived to the main room and noticed that Chan was just done with introducing his new line of products. You clapped along with the crowd and cheered loudly. He recognized your voice as he immediately moved his eyes to where you were standing. With a large grin, he thanked the audience once more and came down to crush you in a hug.

"How did I do?" he asked.

"Great..." you trailed off and he gave you a look.

"You didn't watch, right?"

"I'm sorry, Chan." you chuckled. "I... kind of ran away?"

He rolled his eyes. "Han Jisung?"

"Why the hell is everyone aware of my business?" you whined.

"He came to talk to me after you left. He's alone at the bar if you are looking for him." he laughed. "Go get your man, bestie." he said jokingly.

"I'll have to talk to you after we sort this out." you said in a warning voice before leaving to go to the bar.

When you finally got to him, you kept a distance to observe what state he was in. Hair disheveled, tie loosened, he was mixing his margarita with a straw and started blankly in the void. You felt bad, even worse than you expected.

"I would have never thought of you as one for the margaritas." you spoke up.

At the sound of your voice, he looked around in confusion until he noticed you were standing behind him. He shook his head as a chuckle left his mouth.

"Are you quoting me now?"

You took the spot next to him and stole the drink from his grip. "Perhaps I am." you shrugged and then took a sip of the drink. "I like the ones from the island better."

"So picky." he huffed. "I'm sorry for being so bold earlier."

You shook your head violently. "Stop, I'm the one at fault."

He tilted his head from side to side. "Not really. I can't blame you for not wanting the same thing as me."

"But that's the thing..." you said before taking a deep breath. "I want the same thing as you."

He stared at you for a moment. The lack of response on his part quite frightened you. After a bit, he finally moved as he placed his hand on your forehead.

"Are you okay?"

Frowning, you looked at him, perplexed. "I am..."

He retrieved his hand away. "You're being for real? Don't give me false hope, I swear I'll axe you if you do so."

You laughed. "I'm serious. Look, Jisung, I haven't been fair to you."

He shook his head as he took your face by the jaw. "Don't say that."

"You know I'm right. I led you on, kept denying your attention and I literally ran away from you." you listed out. "I think I'm in love with you too. I was just stupid enough to never admit it to myself."

You had never seen him smile this much. "You're fucking stubborn, yeah." he grinned. "But I love that about you. Plus, playing hard to get is quite attractive."

You scoffed. "Fuck off, I'll go back to Felix."

You were about to walk away but he grabbed you by the wrist to stop you. Gently, he pulled you closer by the neck and kissed you. He. Kissed. You. In front of literally everyone. You heard gasps of shock, but surprisingly, you didn't care. All that mattered was that you had your lips on Jisung again. The butterflies you had suppressed for months had come back at an overwhelming level but you were happy.

"Y/N L/N!" you heard your father yell.

Separating yourself from Jisung, you rolled your eyes as you came face to face with a furious man.

"Hey." you smiled in an exaggerated manner.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do, young lady. I made sure during your whole life you'd be ready to take over my place, and you're pulling this show tonight?"

You let out a groan. "Really? A show? I get you have built a reputation and shit for years, but for what? Really, come to think of it, this whole rivalry thing is ridiculous. Yeah, sure, they sued us, but heck, we got over it."

He huffed in disbelief. "It had to be a Han, uh?"

Dropping your shoulders, you didn't even know what to say anymore. "He's not like that. You know what? I don't even know why I'm fighting you over this." you started to get annoyed.

"It's okay, Y/N-" Jisung started, but you went off again which interrupted him.

"No, Jisung, this is not okay. I've done literally everything to go according to this man's expectations and I can't even be happy for one moment?"

By then, more people had gathered around the scene. Some of them whispered among themselves, others just watched in pure shock. Then, Jisung's parents arrived and stood next to your dad. This was going so well...

"You two are okay with this?" you father asked the Han.

Jisung's mother simply shrugged. "I mean, she seems to make our son happy." she said in a small voice making your father turn to Mr. Han to incite him to speak his thoughts out.

He did the same as his wife, not sure on what to answer. "I'd have to say, Mr. L/N, that your daughter is quite a remarkable woman. I think our son is in good hands."

"I agree." you heard Chan speak up somewhere in the crowd. You finally spotted him and sent him a look as to ask what he was doing. "I think it is time to tone down the hard feelings in my opinion, Mr. L/N." he patted your father's back.

"Chan-" Jisung started but the glare he received from him shut him up real quick.

"I think this is a good way to put an end to this competition between your families, no? Anyhow, I think they make a fine couple." he continued and then held his glass up. "How about we go on with our evening?"

Chan had power, which meant everyone were taking his opinion into consideration. If he said something was fine, it meant it was fine. If he wanted to move on from something, then people moved on. This was exactly what happened. As the mass of people dispersed themselves, you saw your dad walk further away with Jisung's parents, seemingly discussing about what they just saw. As for Chan, he joined the pair of you.

"That's quite a show stealer you put up just now." he laughed.

"Thank you, Chan." you said sincerely.

Jisung rubbed your back gently as he nodded with you. "Yeah, thank you for that."

Chan shrugged. "I'm rooting for you two, but don't put yourselves in trouble too much because I can't save you all the time."

"We won't." Jisung said as he looked at you. "I think we can manage from now."

eleven. - epilogue -

"Time's up."

Looking up from your laptop, you had daggers in your eyes as you stared at Jisung through your glasses. He was already fully dressed with black pants and a beige coat as he tapped his foot on the floor in an impatient way.

"I'm almost done." you said as you focused back on your screen.

He let out a groan. "Y/N, love."

"It won't take long." you argued, not taking your eyes off as you typed aggressively on your keyboard.

"You said the same thing ten minutes ago and we have a flight in..." he checked the time on his phone. "two hours now." he deadpanned at you.

"I just have to send this to Chan real quick."

"Exactly, it's Chan so no pressure."

He came to your dining table and snatched your computer away from you. While you reached out to get it back, he saved your file and closed it off before putting it in his bag.

"Han Jisung." you said in a stern voice.

"Thank me later, baby." he kissed your cheek but you refused to fall for it.

"I have to send it over."

"I know, love, but Jeongin had this handled, no? Just trust him on this one."

Still pouting, you took your coat and put it on before grabbing your luggage. "I shouldn't have agreed to go on this stupid trip."

"Don't be like this, you love seeing Felix." he snickered.

"I don't mind going to Australia." you argued as you approached the front door of your house. "I mind not getting my work done in time."

"Love, you're literally weeks ahead for everything." he sighed loudly.

You walked to your car and started to load it with your bags. While Jisung went back inside to get more of your belongings, you received a call. Putting the phone between your ear and your shoulder, you answered.

"What's up, Hyunjin?" you said cheerfully.

"Someone's in a good mood." he laughed. "I take it that you're leaving soon?"

"Yeah, we're about to go to the airport. How is it there?"

"I love it, really. Felix rented a house for us so we can all stay together." he said excitedly. "I was calling to ask you something about the report you filled out this morning, actually."

You frowned. "What about it?"

"Why didn't you mark Jisung's name? For the collaborator, I mean."

You grunted. "Shit, I totally forgot. I'm sorry, I'm still not used to him being back in the business."

"All good." he chuckled. "Though I need it by the end of the week. Otherwise, my application can be denied."

"I know, I'll do it as soon as I get there."

Jisung looked at you curiously as he stood next to the car with the door opened, waiting for you to be done.

"No stress." Hyunjin answered.

"I have to go now, but I can't wait to see you two!"

"See you in a few hours!"

Hanging up, you and Jisung got in the car and he drove away from your house. As you hummed along the music, you suddenly remembered something. Turning the volume down, you looked at your fiancé in panic.

"Tell me you locked the door."

He rolled his eyes. "I did, stop being so stressed."

"I'm sorry, jeez." you said in a defensive tone.

"This trip is for us to take a break from work, just like the good old days. Relax a little, can you do that for me?"

You absolutely hated it when he used his soft loving tone. You could simply not resist it. With a sigh, you nodded your head and you grabbed his hand that was hanging between your two seats.

"You're right."

He smiled and started to play with your hand, fiddling with your engagement ring. "Plus, we get to visit the venue for the wedding." he said before kissing your hand.

"Felix better had chosen a good spot." you huffed.

"If you don't like it, we can visit some more." he shrugged.

You shook your head as a no. "I just want a place to marry you."

"You're sweet, baby, but I don't want to get married in a wrecked place." he laughed.

"Fair enough."

You said that, but in all honesty, you just wanted to marry him right away. Him. The man you believed to hate until he turned your world upside down. The man who was ready to give up everything just to be with you. If this is not husband material, you don't know what it is. But one thing for sure, you wanted to be with him for the rest of your life.