#chani fluff

[slytherinshua]

TEXTS WITH BF!SF9 MAKNAE LINE

genre. fluff. fake texts. warnings. kissing mention (taeyang and chani). light profanity in chani's. mention of marriage in taeyang's. pairing. sf9 maknae line x fem!reader (separate). wc. n/a. request. no. a/n. lowkey giggled i think tae's are my fav sdkjskd

TAEYANG:

HWIYOUNG:

CHANI:

↳ sf9 taglist: @eternalgyu,, @weird-bookworm,, @kangtaehyunzzz

[iamthemain-character]

Hi, I saw your requests were open! I think I sent this in before when on your haitus/requests were closed, but could I request a Dune story please where reader is an orphan Fremen, and Chani finds them and takes them in like a younger sibling and is really protective of them?

Hand in Hand

sibling! Chani x reader

gender neutral pronouns

TW: Insinuation that you were a slave :/ (also I kinda took a little bit of creative liberty here and there so please don’t come at me)

a/n: (kinda spoiler?) they did my girl chani so dirty in the movie i need justice for my queen

dune master list

The desert was an unforgiving place. Survival was never a guarantee, the coarse sands and the blazing heat threatening death to any who try to exist in the wilds of Arrakis.

To Chani, however, the danger of the desert was not a source of fear, but rather a sense of life, a purpose which drove her onward with her people. She welcomed the desert’s temperament, using the skills she had grown with to build a life. In short, the desert was her home. One that she would die to protect.

One day, however, as Chani returned to the entrance of the caverns leading to the underground home of the Fremen, she felt the hairs on her neck stand, her entire body flooding with the feeling of something not being quite right. Carefully, she examined the surrounding area, crouching low to prevent being seen by possible enemies.

She soon found footprints in the dunes, faint from the sands being blown back and forth. They were unlike any footprints made by Fremen, too uniform and heavy for their skilled feet. Slowly, Chani crept forward, moving silently as she followed the footprints.

When she reached the end, however, it was not a ruthless Harkonnen that met her eyes. Instead, tucked into the crevice of the rock wall, a young person laid, their breathing heavy and their skin glistening with sweat. All of Chani’s senses were on high alert, but she couldn’t help the small twinge of sympathy she felt in her heart.

She looked around, trying to see if this person could possibly be a spy or a danger to the Fremen, but there was nothing else to be found. The person themself was barely alive, their skin burned and their chapped lips showing how dehydrated they were. Chani knew they would die if she left them there, and her mind said it would be natural, the desert reclaiming their bones, her heart grew louder in its empathetic protest:

Before she could doubt it again, Chani shook the person—albeit a little harshly— to get them to awaken. In response, the half dead young person blearily opened their eyes, the irises struggling to focus.

“Up.” Chani commanded.

The person blinked again, clearly still struggling to understand what was happening.

“Up.” She said again, more sternly. “Before you become food for the worms.”

Grabbing the person’s arm, Chani dragged them to their feet, half supporting them as she dragged them inside. If this person was actually a spy, they did not seem conscious enough to likely remember the path through the tunnels.

She managed to get them through without too many people noticing, and she got them into the healing ward. Ignoring the questions of the Fremen Healers, Chani began collecting supplies, returning to the young person’s side. Painstakingly, she tended to the person, forcing them to take small sips of water, spreading salve on their burns, and just doing everything she could to get them to live.

Throughout the night, Chani tended to the young person, caring for them with a tenderness and patience that was not always characteristic of the Fremen woman. Still, Chani could not deny the feeling that caring for the helpless person was the right thing to do.

In the morning, when the stranger awakens, they look around wildly, confused.

“Calm yourself.” Chani tsks, pushing the person back down. “You are weak.”

The stranger looks at Chani curiously, their eyes showing their mind trying to process what is happening. “You are a Fremen.” They say after a moment.

“I am.” She nods. “I found you half-dead in a dune. Why were you so foolish to be in the desert?”

“I….I ran away.” The young person looks away, almost ashamed.

Chani’s eyebrows furrow. “From who?”

“The Harkonnens.” The young person says quietly. “They own me.”

Chani’s insides twist for this person, who has also suffered at the hands of the cruel rulers of Arrakis. “No one owns you.” She says firmly, her blue eyes boring into the person’s. She then busies herself with checking the person’s burns and wounds. “What is your name?”

“I am [name].” The person replies, watching her. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“You will continue to recover here.” Chani brushes off the gratitude, trying to ignore the soft and protective feelings growing inside her for this person. “You will learn to survive the desert and avoid such idiocy in the future.”

[Name]’s eyes widen, looking surprised but hopeful. “Really? You would offer me a place with your people?”

“You will earn your place.” Chani replies, her voice serious compared to the fondness inside. “Just as every Fremen does.”

Just then, there was a sound of a bit of commotion coming from the entrance. Stilgar, the leader of the Fremen, strides forward, his face intense. “What is this that you have brought an outsider to our home?”

Chani quickly gets to her feet, squaring her shoulders. “I found this person outside our walls, dying.”

Stilgar scoffs. “There are many who die in the desert. We do not jeopardize our lives, our people for them.”

“This person is a victim of the Harkkonens, like us.” Chani retorts, her eyes fierce as she doesn’t back down. “They are young, and they deserve a chance.”

Stilgar looks over at [name], his eyes seeming to analyze them. “You hate Harkkonens?”

[Name] nods in response, looking nervously between Chani and Stilgar.

“You will vouch for this stranger?” Stilgar asks Chani.

Chani pauses, and she looks back at [name]. Everything in her head is telling her to let it go, that survival is only about yourself, but when she looks into their hopeful eyes, her heart cannot be ignored. “I will be guardian of [name].” She responds, looking back at Stilgar. “I will take the responsibility of their learning.”

Stilgar is quiet for another minute, until finally he sighs, running a hand over his face. “Very well then. Let us hope we do not regret this.”

——

As promised, Chani continues to help [name] get back to their feet. Once they are healed, she instructs them in the way of the Fremen. Her lessons are strict and sometimes she is brutal with her criticism, but somehow, [name] continues to work their way into her heart.

By the time [name] is able to ride their first sandworm, Chani cannot remember life without them. She finds herself smiling more, laughing, looking forward to the quiet evenings where they swap stories over dinner.

Chani is beaming with pride as the Fremen gather in the tent that evening, celebrating [name]’s initiation into their people. She relishes the feeling of being a big sister, having been able to watch [name] grow and learn and become part of her family.

“Chani.” [Name]’s voice breaks her from her thoughts, and she looks over at them.

“What is it?”

“I have something for you.” [Name] smiles widely, and they hand Chani a small parcel.

Chani looks at it curiously, examining the leather and string. “What is it?”

“It’s inside.” [Name] laughs, watching Chani excitedly.

Chani unfolds the worn leather, and inside is a beautiful, baby blue stain sash. Chani runs her calloused fingers over the delicate fabric, her heart swelling with warmth. “This is for me?” She asks, looking at the young person beside her.

[Name] smiles brightly, looking excited. “It matches your eyes. I thought you might like it.”

Chani looks back at the gift, something so precious, so drastically different than her life and surroundings. The blue is like a breath of magic compared to her usual brown tones adorning her body. In a way, it reminds Chani of [Name], of the color and brightness they brought into her life.

“Thank you.” Chani says, her usually flat voice softening a little as she looks at the person she has come to see as her little sibling. “I have nothing to give in return.”

Name shakes their head, waving Chani off. “You’ve given me more than enough.”

Despite that being true, Chani still doesn’t fill right not giving something to their young friend. “What if I give you a Fremen name?”

[Name]’s eyes widen, a little glimmer of hope sparking in them. “Do you really think I’m ready?”

“You have learned to become one with the desert. You are Fremen now.” Chani says, pride swelling in her chest at the thought of [Name] being even more like a sibling. Chani gazes at them, thinking over their short time together, and she settles on a name. “You are like the life that thrives in the desert. You will be Akarso.”

[Name]’s smile grows, echoing the new title softly. “Akarso.” Their eyes are full of brightness and warmth as they look at Chani. “Thank you.”

[Name] smiles again and goes back to eating, chatting with some of the other Fremen. Chani gazes on fondly, a small smile pulling at her lips as she sees how well her desert plant has blossomed.

“Thank you.” Chani whispers, knowing that because of her Akarso, her life is all the better.

[divinefireangel]

Hi dear¡! ♡

Can I ask SF9 how they showed their love to their partner? (Hugs, kisses, physical touches, loving words, etc)

Sorry for my english 🥺

Your English is fine hun! Plus the language is kinda stupid hehe

SF9's Love Languages 🩷

Warnings: These are what I think are SF9's top love language. Of course it is impossible for such lovely people to have just one 😔. Mention of food/cooking in Tae's. Tea is Chani's.

Youngbin

WORDS 👏 OF 👏 AFFIRMATION 👏

I will literally physically fight if anyone disagrees with me lol. Our man is so wise and sweet and his voice is just is soothing so I just think that his ultimate way to show you appreciation will be through words. Plus man's a great and creative lyricist.

Inseong

Quality time

Well, it's mostly just him trying to make you laugh by saying and making up the stupidest jokes, if you can call them that, ever. I'm also a strong believer that this man just wants to annoy you enough to start a debate with him cuz he's bored lol

Jaeyoon

Physical Touch

Maybe this is me projecting my needs maybe it is not okay idk. But let's be honest here, this man is the cutest ever and he will want to squish your cheeks, irrespective of squishyness quotient. He also likes to hug you, literally engulf you in his broad af chest and baby you although you want to baby him don't we all

Dawon

Acts of service

I just love him sm 😭. See, he's the kind to leave you sweet sticky notes with reassuring words and a drawing or something stupid on the back lol. But yeah it's all the small things that he'll do like buying you a new chapstick before your old one gets over, bringing your water bottle around even when you tell him you won't carry it, letting you use his arm as a pillow during the long car ride to your destination although it definitely hurts after some time, fixing your hair when you're distracted, etc. Bye I need a Sanghyuk

Zuho

Words of Affirmation

He is so much different that Youngbin tho lemme tell you. So Bin uses maturity and juju uses his baby voice(?) aka he does aegyo and makes you feel all mushy inside. I mean, he is cute.

Rowoon

Gift Giving

It won't necessarily be stupid gift all the time, he does give you good ones occasionally like a sunscreen stick for example. Most of the time it is something useless and weird like a spoon pillow or some shit but it's the thought that counts right?💀

But no on a real note he's super thoughtful when he gives you gifts and he thinks of it as something that'll remind you of his love when you use it.

Yoo Taeyang

Acts of Service

It could be doing your laundry or cooking for you or putting you phone on charge. It's the little things that you need in your daily life that sometimes get so difficult to manage. But don't worry, our teddy Tae is here to be your little lovely helper fairy, even if you don't ask or notice it right away.

Hwiyoung

Physical Touch

Yes he hates skinship from members but you, no. He loves clinging to you and hugging you and kissing you. He's like a mama cat and you his kitten and he wants to kith and protecc and love you so much till you physically have to be away from him lol

Chani

Quality Time

It doesn't even have to be like an eventful couple of hours. It could just be him laying on your lap taking a nap and you reading you book and playing with his hair, giving him a head massage or tracing his cute facial features. It could also be sitting on the rooftop with hot tea cups and talking about life while nuzzling into each other for warmth.

[lost-inthedream]

Jazzy night

Prompt: slow-dancing, skirts, barefoot (from this list)

Genre: fluff Word Count: 0,3k

Pairing: Chani x female reader

Requested by anon

Summary: stuck at home with Chani on an important date.

The tempest obligated you and Chani to stay home. That was the last thing you wanted to do for your relationship anniversary. The occasion had Chani dressed like a distinguished man after so much time. Truth being said you used to see him in very informal clothes every time. His excuses alternated between working with dance and being too tired to pick a stylish outfit for a date with you. When you make a minimal complaint, he straight up pouts and asks whether you stopped loving him.

"Well, I've put on this fancy shirt for nothing" he whined after a dreadful sequence of thunders.

You chuckled behind him, your arms circled him while the side of your head leaned on his back. "That wasn't for no reason, you look stunning as you should."

You could not see but he bit on his lower lip. "Yet, we aren't going to that restaurant. I didn't expect the rain to be a storm. Are you afraid, baby girl?"

"No. You are protecting me"

"You are so flirty today. Lemme look at you"

He softly guided your arms off his middle and turned around to put his eyes on your figure. You were equally refined if not more than him. Surely more than him, he pondered. A fat lightning probably crashed because the amount of glow that entered the window and emphasized your beauty was not normal. Chani stared at the way that skirt hugged your hips and thighs and went speechless.

He loved you. You have not put your heels on yet so he noticed your toes playing with the rug fur.

"You're the cutest girl" He smiled pulling you closer and starting to sway with you, following an imaginary jazz rhythm.

You moved with him as if you could hear it too - and maybe you could. "I thought I was the most gorgeous one"

"Everything" he asserted before covering your talkative lips with his own.

[synthetickitsune]

Hi again I see your requests are open, hope you are doing well. I was hoping to request Fluff prompts 1 and 4 with Chani from Sf9. It’s been a really long week for me and all I can think about is snuggling that man with some sweet kisses. 🫠 you always write the best scenarios ❤️ have a nice day!

Thank you very much, anon! You also have a nice day and I hope things are better now ♡

Chani (SF9) | Being held after a long day & Comfortable silence fluff | 0.5k

The digits glowing on the clock on the night table read a little after midnight, but nobody pays them any attention. It’s late, even if for the two of you this is actually early. Seldom it happens that you get to hold each other sooner than in the early hours of the morning. You both got home before midnight, and yet it feels like the day has been excruciatingly long. Neither of you bothers recounting the frustrating day, instead opting to allow yourself some well deserved rest.

Silence has never bothered you, and it’s twice as true when you share it with Chani. And honestly, after the day you’ve had it’s exactly what you need. There’s ringing in your ears that has yet to subside but already it feels better as you lay your head on Chani’s chest. His heartbeat is slow and comforting, and he seems just as content with wordlessly holding you as you are with holding him. Your bare bodies share their warmth under the covers and as tired as you are, you don’t want to fall asleep just yet. It’s a blessing to feel that way, you realize, and how lucky you are it’s your lover who makes it possible. You just want to lay like this with him for as long as you can.

His hand finds its way to your hair, gently combing through it before his fingers make contact with your scalp. You groan softly as they begin to move and massage over your head. No way you’re opening your eyes any time soon. You hug him tighter, thanking him with a lingering kiss over his heart.

In response, he lets go of you, the loss of the warmth of his hand immediately making you shiver with cold, and takes your hands. He guides it towards his shoulder and you shake your head with a smile. The position isn’t good to help ease the pent up tension and knots in his muscles but it will have to do since neither of you wants to move. 

Despite the awkward angle and limited access, you do your best. You wince internally just imagining the discomfort he must feel. You add slightly more pressure even if your fingers threaten to cramp up and it’s not enough. You know he appreciates it anyway, and besides he’d need a professional to truly feel a difference - there’s only so much your loving touch can do. What a shame fairytales aren’t real.

You can’t tell when the switch flips and your mind gets so cloudy that you’re barely aware of your surroundings, sleep taking you all at once. When you awake hours later, you find yourself in the same position. Chani’s hand is still tangled in your hair, and you chuckle quietly. He must’ve drifted off just as suddenly as you did.

Carefully, you move his hand to his chest and find a more comfortable position to sleep in. Settling on your side, you feel sleep creeping up on you once more. Yet before you lose consciousness, you feel your boyfriend shift and suddenly there’s a warm chest pressed against your back. It’s not long before his arm wraps around your waist and pulls you closer. 

You think there’s no better way to fall asleep, or to wake up.

[periprose]

Priestess | Sayyadina

Faith is falling in Sietch Tabr. Reverend Mother Ramallo has a solution– marrying Naib Stilgar to one of the Sayyadina, in order to greater connect the people and the spiritual way, and enable Lisan Al Gaib’s journey to freedom, when he appears. This is your story as the chosen priestess.

Genre: arranged marriage to lovers, fluff, smut, (oral, piv, 18+) angst, lots of sci-fi Dune book references

Word count: 9.8k

Fremen Dictionary:

Sayyadina: Lower ranking priestess(es) who have not yet drank the Water of Life

Naib: Leader of a Sietch

Sietch: Cave/place of assembly by the Fremen

Sahar: Reader’s Sietch Name

Biet: Reader’s Fremen Name

Stilgar climbs up the rocky terrain, his fingers adeptly finding well-known grooves in the stone as he lifts himself to the absolute top of the cliff.

He needs some time to think over his conversation with Ramallo, Sietch Tabr’s Reverend Mother, before he heads back to the Sietch. Stilgar is not one to stay away from his people, his community— but for once in his life, it’s too close for comfort.

As Naib, there will be too many people coming to him at once, asking for his advice and input on things he is normally capable of answering. Friends and family will approach him closely, knowing too much about him to tell there’s something on his mind, and expecting him to be transparent as he typically is.

For this moment, though, he needs his head to be clear. He cannot be as jovial as he might’ve been in the past.

What Ramallo offered him is a subject matter he does not take lightly. 

The sun is setting as Stilgar remembers their conversation from the previous hour.

/

“As Sayyadina, as Reverend Mother, my honest recommendation is that the Northern Fremen need to replenish their numbers.” Ramallo speaks in hushed tones of Chakobsa, the native Fremen language.

Stilgar is slightly confused. The concept of child bearing is not one that he has to be concerned with, as he, despite his older age, has not been married yet.

Something he admonishes himself for.

“There are many of us, but we could always expand. I have already suggested to the South that they could send some of their people here, if they would like to be.” Stilgar frowns. “So many Fremen in the south, densely packed, is an easy way to be attacked. We could spread out more.”

“Save your war-speak for later, Stilgar.” Ramallo tuts, and then sighs a long, languid sigh that has Stilgar feeling much younger than he really is. “I don’t mean simply bringing people here.”

He’s never sure what the Reverend Mother wants, but he always gives her his full attention. Something about staying in his faith for so long has kept him here, grounded, seated in front of Ramallo, ready to do what needs to be done. Not just for the Mahdi, as he is often teased about, but so he doesn’t lose himself.   

“Please. Tell me.” He asks, kneeling his head down in a solemn movement, and Ramallo knows he’s ready for this.

“The youth of Sietch Tabr don’t believe in our faith anymore, do they?” Ramallo wraps a gnarled finger around her wrist, feeling a minor form of trepidation she is sure real Bene Gesserit have never felt. “They laugh when we speak of Lisan al Gaib.” 

“They have not read the prophecy.” Stilgar swallows, unsure if he can really speak on this, when he regards himself as a humble follower. “They laugh because they do not believe in the Mahdi to free us.”

Stilgar thinks of his niece, Chani, who suggests that a Fremen could be the Mahdi. He knows this can’t be true, because he believes his people are fed-up— it should have happened by now if one of them was truly possessed with that capability.

“Sietch Tabr is too worldly now. I worry that if we lose our faith, we cannot usher in Lisan al Gaib as he should be, and our promise to freedom.” Ramallo fixes her cold, foggy pupils on Stilgar, the cloudy whites making the typical Fremen-blue appear more teal. He shivers at the idea. 

“I want you, as Naib, our political leader, to take one of the Sayyadina as your wife. One of the lower priestesses.” 

Stilgar nearly protests instantly, feeling embarrassed to even think of desecrating a Sayyadina like this, but the old Reverend Mother knows what he thinks of this. 

“It would be a marriage between our religion and our people, a symbolic union. I believe our spirituality will be renewed.” Ramallo taps his hand. “I’m an old woman now. I cannot make as much as a difference as my younger sisters— and you and I both know it is written that we must keep bearing children.” 

Stilgar swallows. He only vaguely knows of the Bene Gesserit, but he can guess Ramallo was deeply inspired by their way, marrying into families, keeping a physical bloodline going. The only thing that troubles him, is that he’s unsure of what this has to do with having children with a Sayyadina in particular. 

“If you have children, especially with a Sayyadina, they are more likely to be faithful. Perhaps we cannot convert the others,” Ramallo grits her teeth. “But I believe we can start anew.”

/

Stilgar knows he cannot force himself on any of the Sayyadina. It’s bad enough that they cannot say no to the Reverend Mother’s command, especially with that shocking, unnerving Voice she uses, so he would much rather let one of them pick him. Yes, that’s what he’ll do— walk into the temple, and let them approach him.

He just hopes he’s not too old, too ugly, too entwined with his role as Naib. He wonders if that’s why women haven’t necessarily been interested in him— what with his constant vigilance to keep Sietch Tabr safe and with a good allocation of resources, which makes him rather unapproachable, not as dashing as a typical Feydakin.

He knows how Lady Jessica looked at him with reproach when he offered himself to her, to protect her and her son, Paul. Yes, even the name Paul suggests something more to him— he still thinks he could be Lisan al Gaib. But either way, Lady Jessica did not want to be connected to him like that— so Stilgar feels that he must admire how marriage exists in that intrinsic bond between two people, from afar.

On the other hand, he feels the slightest tinge of hope when he remembers that a Sayyadina would surely be impressed with his devotion. In fact, Stilgar feels a slight grin on his face, as he climbs down from his cliff, thinking of a veiled Fremen priestess, eyes of Ibad even bluer than his own, marking her commitment to the faith. Holy, but his, to see like no one else would, and to be devoutly loyal to.

Almost like a personal representation, an extension of their faith together. And suddenly Stilgar feels understanding to what the Reverend Mother said, as he walks through the night, back to his quarters, that there would be power in this.

/

You’re chewing on your bottom lip, knowing that it’s a needless thing to do— a waste of water, now, that a drop of blood has been drawn from where you have accidentally split your lip— and you can’t help yourself.

Reverend Mother Ramallo grasped you and your sisters’ hands during prayer this morning, and told you that Stilgar would choose one of you as his wife.

It’s a bit surprising. As a Sayyadina directly under a Reverend Mother, you simply expected to be on your own, until she died and one of you would have to take her place. Other Sayyadina marry, yes— but you’ve always studied under Ramallo and assumed that you would not have to.

You know the Bene Gesserit— as far away as they are to you— form alliances like this with men, and it’s an honourable thing, typically, to produce a child from a union and continue on a legacy of people. It’s with that line of thinking that you asked Ramallo if this is what you were meant to follow.

“Sahar.” Ramallo used your Sietch name, the one that is only known among your sisters for the most part, as most Sayyadina consider their Sietch name to be their sacred name. “Smarter than I sometimes give you credit for. Yes, like our fellow priestesses, we too can create children for the sacred purpose of replacement.”

You smiled, but Ramallo had a slightly weary look in her eyes.

“I don’t want you girls to forget the sacred duty. Continue the faith. Do not let others forget our long wait for the Lisan al Gaib. Pass this onto your children, if you have them.”

You nodded, and whispered a silent prayer that hopefully soon he would be found, and that in itself would be enough to push people.

/   

So now you wait. You know Stilgar— you’ve conversed with him before, in lunch circles, at the deathstill. He was kind enough— he always bowed when he greeted you, and you liked that, liked that he acknowledged your importance in your role here, however small it may be to you. And he always had a careful, leaning inwards glance, where he would be intently listening to whatever you had to say, even if you simply wished him well and hoped that the Maker would bless him and his passage.

It also significantly helped that he was so handsome to look at, too. You’ve heard women murmur about their surprise on his lack of a wife, and how they’d be grateful to take him, if they got the chance. You don’t disagree– you know you’ve spent many a moment glancing too much at him.

But Stilgar seems intensely busy, and you do not be the one to pull him away from his duties. You have had the privilege of being unaware of fighting, of battles and duels, and now to be potentially married to him, it feels like you’ll simply not fit into his life.

And, on the other hand, as you glumly sit on your bedding, rolling a pebble on the stone floor, you think about how you’ve had little-to-no experience with men.

It’s not that it wasn’t allowed, you’ve always been preoccupied with your faith. With the Reverend Mother.

You know how Fremen men, especially warrior men like Stilgar would be. They have appetites— your fellow Sayyadina sister Nezua tells you about all her crazy endeavours, while you listen somewhat enviously. There’s a reason why Fremen men take so many wives.

Your stomach lurches a little at that. Although multiple wives are common, to continue to reproduce as efficiently as possible, you dislike the notion for some reason— but you feel selfish and wonder if it is because, as a priestess, you’ve had special treatment until now.

Nezua walks into your quarters, and taps your shoulder. 

“Yes?”

“He’s outside.” She takes your hand. “Don’t worry, Sahar. I am sure he will not pick one of us— he will probably pick Ranira. She barely wants to be Sayyadina.”

“But isn’t that against the point?” You squeeze your hands together. “For a union between faith and people—” 

“C’mon, Sahar. Don’t tell me you really believe that.” She rolls her eyes. “Whoever ends up being Stilgar’s wife will probably be in his house most of the time, ‘praying’, but really just dutifully waiting for him.” 

“I suppose…” You don’t want to tell Nezua that she’s wrong. That Stilgar is more devout than she thinks, that he’s not a cheat looking for a free wife to use while pretending to care about the faith. 

Stilgar has always come to the temple to pray, even when it is not necessary for a man of his standing to do so— as he often speaks of needing to continue his worship towards the Maker, the One God, and Ramallo is always pleased to let him in. She wouldn’t do that if he had some sort of ulterior motive, as other less honourable men have in the past.

It’s with a jolt that you realize you already care for him on some level. At the very least, you think highly of him.

Nezua pulls you up off your bedding, and you adjust your veil before going off into the main prayer hall with her.

Upon seeing the arrival of all six Sayyadina sisters— the current number of high priestesses directly under Ramallo— Stilgar pushes himself into a deep, reverent bow, and as he arises again, his gaze seems to linger on you before coming across your sisters.

You feel both excited to potentially be picked, and terrified to leave the temple where you have lived your whole life.

/

Stilgar can’t help but have his eyes drawn towards to you. Not just because you’re beautiful— you are, though, with the eyes of Ibad, deep blue pupils, a wise, judicial expression upon your face— and he wonders why.

Not out of disrespect, but Stilgar often sees the Sayyadina as being sort of withdrawn, within themselves, perhaps solemn in the religious vows they have taken. Even now, your sisters don’t meet his glance as often as you do.

Stilgar thinks you may be defiant. Maybe a troublemaker of sorts. His heart has a sudden thrill at the idea, but his mind knows this isn’t what’s necessary for this arrangement.

“Hello, sisters.” He smiles in a firm, thin line, meant to be placating to those around him. “I believe you know why I’m here. I hope this will not be an uncomfortable process for us all.”

He takes another look at you. No, you’re simply… you’re taking him in. And Stilgar decides that’s overall better than being defiant. Closer to the values of a leader, not even in just a spiritual way as the Reverend Mother had suggested to him. 

You’re gauging his reactions, trying to read if he’s more of a rascal than he lets on— but he meets your previous idea of him, a reverent, kind man trying not to do harm, and your mouth settles into a assured, small smile.

Stilgar feels comforted, pleased even by your expression, and he knows he’s going to pick you.

”Sayyadina—” He points to you so there’s no confusion, and your sisters appear as neutral as they can, while you read micro-expressions of either relief or disappointment. “I would like to speak to you on this matter.”

You shuffle in silence as you leave with him to a different, quieter corridor, and as you turn and fix your veil, Nezua flashes a grin at you.

So your feelings were that obvious, you think.

/

Stilgar is a great deal taller than you. You have to peer upwards to really look at him, and you think he likes that— there’s a slight twinge in his eyes that makes you feel easily drawn to him.

“Why me, Naib?” You ask, and Stilgar stares at you for a moment longer, before tearing his eyes away to stare at the architecture of the temple. 

“You have a knowing look in your eyes, Sayyadina.” He responds in turn to your use of Naib— a term denoting him as Leader of the Sietch. You use it so not to be overly familiar with him, but you understand you both respect each other.

“So you picked the most shrewd of us, is that it?” You wrinkle your nose in a slight laugh, but then actually grin as Stilgar laughs.

“One could call it shrewdness. I simply see that you are not afraid, you look for what you know you must find. Only great leaders make the approach.” He explains this so clearly, you were not even entirely aware that you were doing such a thing. 

“It only makes sense to do so, Naib. I could not just stand there and allow you to do all the decision making.” You admit with tact, so not to drive him away.

He nods. “That is why you will be a great one.”

Stilgar seems comfortable with you already, and yet his expression takes a pained look for a moment. 

“It's for that reason I do not want to force you into this… uh, arrangement.” He admits, and you are taken aback for just a moment, just a slight gasp.

“What makes you think I don’t want to be your wife?” You speak too soon, maybe too boldly but Stilgar likes that. Despite not even being betrothed yet, you are so forward with him, so ready to be claimed by him.

And he's just as willing a participant to be claimed by you, so he smiles, watching you turn a little flustered, but you let your feelings for him stay apparent for a moment.

It's not like there's room for privacy in a marriage, you think.

An arranged marriage, you admonish yourself. He’s here only in the most professional of terms. Don’t complicate this with your idiotic feelings, you still have a job to do.

“I just meant that– it would be an honour to be associated with you, Naib.” You keep your head tilted downwards, trying your best to be the reverent Sayyadina you’re known as.

“Of course.” He swallows, unsure if you’ve suddenly become shy, or that you’ve decided to be more cunning– something he admires anyways. He thinks not many women would actually be attracted to him, what of the mug he calls a face, and so he decides to just be glad that you’re willing to be with him.

“Okay, Sayyadina. If you’ll have me as your husband, then,” He grasps your hands in both of his, and he has the kindest look in his eyes, and you look back up at him, feelings simmering on the inside as you maintain a peaceful facade. “We will have our engagement arranged soon.”

Then, ever so gently, he pushes back a part of your veil, wanting to see your face better.

/

You visit him more often after that. Usually in the hall, where there are other people, and you do this so people don’t think you’re too in love with him already– visiting him secretly would only prove that, suggest some sort of affair of a human connotation.

By being around the others, people feel that things are coming into place– religion and leaders are creating a strong, united front that will lead the Fremen to peace. More believers for the Lisan Al Gaib. And you are glad to already be pushing people along the path that Ramallo set out for you.

Stilgar has a stronger look at you, now. Not just the polite glances of before. With every conversation, he takes you in, drawing more and more conclusions. And with every moment, he learns more about you, and he likes what he learns, too.

He sees that you like your food spicy, as does he. And you especially enjoy tabara– the soft sweet cake made of tabaroot, honey, and spice, rich and sweet in flavour, adorned with fruit. It’s a rarity in Arrakis, since a few of the fruit come from offworld traders– so he gives you his portion and you two argue over this, before Stilgar eventually puts his foot down as Naib.

“You should accept. Extra portions go towards those who need it, not me.” Stilgar says, ever the humble one as you’ve come to know him.

“Except this isn’t an extra portion, is it? Sayyadina aren’t supposed to indulge so much, leaders like you may deserve it as you do such hard work.” You taunt him, knowing that you’re both so similar– you could argue forever with Stilgar because you’re equally as willing to sacrifice things for each other.

Great leaders, indeed.

“Sayyadina, don’t make me remind you how important your creed is.” He tuts, and you find yourself simmering with attraction to him– you are beginning to look forward to these conversations more and more everyday. “Your work is just as important– don’t do a disservice to your life just for me, okay?”

The people around you shift in their spots on the floor, to listen more closely, and you recognize that although you and Stilgar grow closer– the intended effect is taking place. People are supportive either way.

Maybe you don’t have to be distant, overly religious, to win support. Maybe, like what Ramallo said, they need to see how spirituality can touch people, and how you’re just a person as well.

He places the piece of cake in your bowl again. “Accept it as a gift, Sayyadina.”

You smile up at him, squeeze his hand without thinking. “Okay, Naib. Thank you.”

/

Stilgar cannot stop thinking of you, even when he is training Usul to fight in the Fremen way.

He remembers your last meeting, a few weeks after your initial one– and then how you said in two days time, after your faithful prayer that the Shai-Hulud would allow your union to be peaceful, you could begin the engagement ceremony. And Stilgar focused on how serious you were– how holy this approach was, how you seemed to glow from within, with some otherworldly energy, and even now he could tell he was enamoured with you. With that strong gaze, eyebrows tensed and purposeful in their thought.

Usul– Paul, at this moment, with his lack of focus– cannot stop staring at Chani while she practices sparring with her friend.

“Usul. Usul.” Stilgar shakes his shoulder, and Paul finally tears his gaze away. “You’re too distracted, my friend.”

“I’m sorry, Stilgar.” Ever the charming, young lad, Paul smiles placatingly towards Stilgar, and even he is too struck by his charisma to avoid it. “I’m here. I’m ready.”

“Please, tell me what bothers you.” Stilgar knows, already, as Paul stares down at his hands, that the boy has eyes for his overly tenacious niece. “Is it a matter of the heart?”

“Yes.” Paul exhales. “It’s not important right now. How did you know?”

Stilgar smiles reproachfully. “I… I suppose I should tell you honestly, before the others get to know.”

It strikes Paul that the Fremen trust him so readily– even Chani, with her misgivings about the prophecy, seems to be swayed towards him, and he does not know if he enjoys the attention, the privilege this grants him. Again, he is struck with that terrible purpose– that he will use these people for his own benefit.

Stilgar interrupts his line of thought. “Soon, I am to be married to one of the priestesses.”

Paul grins. “Ah, Stilgar, you rogue. You’re distracted, too.”

“Yes.” Stilgar admits, and he thinks of you with your deep blue eyes, your careful-yet-understanding glance, and he longs to see you again. To get to know you better. Yes, Stilgar may not truly know you, but he feels he has been on your side this whole time. Every glance at the temple, every cursory conversation at the deathstill, it has all been building up to something– perhaps not what he had imagined it to be, but he would never consider himself unlucky for this, or that Ramallo could ever be wrong about her plans.

As Naib, though, he still has his duties, and he tuts and tells Paul to get back on it. And Paul, strong young man wanting to prove himself, uses his Bene Gesserit training to imbue a level of focus that no woman could possibly break.

/

The engagement ceremony day is finally here.

You're excited, yet nervous to be known as Stilgar's wife. It feels more real with every approaching moment– it’s not just a silly, girlish fantasy, it’s something that everyone will see and know as a tangible union.

You haven't got any time to see him– Stilgar has been away with other Feydakin, no doubt unleashing hell on Harkonnen troops– and so you wait for his return.

The first of many waiting periods, you know that. You always knew this was going to be more of a political marriage– more in meaning for Sietch Tabr than really having to be around each other.

But you miss him, anyways. You like him, and despite your attempts to focus on praying to the Maker that he will be okay, you search for him on the sandy horizon every minute of this auspicious morning, the sun blearing into your eyes.

“You know he hasn’t come this far without his own talent.” Nezua reminds you, as she watches you peer up, blinking in the sunlight. “He’s not Naib for no reason, Sahar.”

All priestesses– both low and high– and other religious Fremen crowd around the outskirts of Sietch Tabr, hidden under cliffs in order to stay in the shade. Yet you reach outwards to look at the sun, risking your sweat even as you know you’re supposed to reserve it.

Lady Jessica, part of the sacred mother-and-son duo from the outer world, watches you with a gaze you cannot place. You know it is not simple curiosity– there is something new and malicious in her stare that has only heightened after Stilgar had asked to be betrothed to you.

A sudden gust of wind blows sand around you two, and Nezua tightens her veil, firmly jutting her jaw in a way that tells you she must be right, that you worry about nothing. 

Ten minutes later, after praying and hoping, Stilgar returns over the sunrise, victorious in battle, and you feel he looks exhausted– yet his face breaks into a smile when he sees you.

He is greeted by many Fremen, fellow family members, but Stilgar pushes them aside, making his way directly towards you.

And you let yourself be pulled upwards by him, as he grasps your hands.

There’s something sweet and endearing here– almost innocent in how he looks at you, as if he’s been waiting to see you again just as long as you have. But you quickly remind yourself that this moment is not just yours– it would be considered somewhat heartless by other Fremen if Stilgar did not appear to like you, and by extension, the whole marriage’s point would fail.

“Sayyadina–” He holds up the Water Rings, the metallic counters representing the volume of water a Fremen could release into the deathstill. Here, they mean that you will be tied to Stilgar, as you are now betrothed to him. “I ask you to be married to me, by nightfall.”

“So soon?” You ask, wondering why he would want to do it so early.

“It cannot wait much longer. Reverend Mother Ramallo is not well.” He tells you, and your heart sinks, wondering why your dear reverend mother has not told you about this.

You’ve seen the signs– she struggles with fine motor skills and often her cataracts make it difficult to see anything– but you are still surprised.

“Okay.” You swallow, and then smile up at him, and he squeezes your cheek in a fond gesture that makes you feel heat rise there.   

“We will be wed tonight.” He calls out in Chakobsa, and the Fremen around you rally with glee, and you feel that whatever this is, even if Ramallo does not live to watch it play out– it’s working.

/

The unmarried women of the tribe fix your hair with the rings Stilgar presented to you, and you feel ever the part of the blushing bride. You know it’s not wrong to genuinely have feelings in this arrangement– you just hope Stilgar feels the same way.

Chani grins at you. You know her well– you’re around the same age, you’ve grown up somewhat together– and you wonder if she feels odd about her uncle marrying you.

“No, if it means I can call you Auntie, I’m happy.” She jokes, and you shove her as she laughs.

Chani rarely laughs like this as of late. She’s always so hard on herself– she thinks she has to be because of how indoctrinated so many Fremen are to the faith. And despite your life as a Sayyadina, Chani has never let your conflicting beliefs stop her love for you.

You only wish she’d be more careful as a warrior. As a freedom fighter, Chani sometimes lacks restraint– so you’re grateful to see her happy.

“Well, maybe some day you’ll be married, too.” You squeeze her hand. “To a great warrior.”

“I don’t know, Biet.” Chani calls you your Fremen name, not your Sietch one, which will be used tonight at the wedding. “Let us focus on you for now.”

“I just… I don’t know if he feels the way I do.” You suddenly admit, and the fear that you’re still going to be lonely crops up. 

Chani shakes her head, that hard, tough scowl on her face back again. “If there’s one thing I know about my uncle, it’s that he’s not an idiot.” 

She presses her cheek to yours. “Don’t you understand how important you are, Biet? How special you are, not just to me and everyone here, but to him especially. Stilgar has not stopped speaking of you for the last couple of weeks.”

You smile softly at that, thinking of how ardently Stilgar looks at you now, how you’ve gotten to know each other over the last few weeks of basic conversation. More close than ever, and yet just far enough that you keep wondering. Is it admiration, gratitude that you’re willing to serve a greater purpose, or something more? You know it’s selfish, but you want him to like you. To love you. 

“Everybody knows, even Muad’Dib.”

At the mention of Muad’Dib, you can’t ignore the slight tension in your spine. Both you and Stilgar have discussed your belief in his abilities, his potential to be the one– but you know that Chani does not share that.

Still, you hear a slight shift in Chani’s tone as she says his name, and you give her a glance.

“You like him, I think.” You tease, and she tells you to shut up in Chakobsa.

You wonder if Muad’Dib was the one who shared this information to his mother, which would make her dislike of you understandable. You get the sense she’s power-hungry, terrifying– she would’ve been a greater candidate for this marriage, an otherworldly mother that fits the prophecy, representing not just the union of politics and religion, but with the power of the Bene Gesserit– and you find that you resist her, anyways. Resist the idea that everything must be for this one purpose.

You want to keep Stilgar to yourself, and it almost frightens you that you might be going against something that you’ve been taught to believe from a young age.

You’re no Chani.

/

The dark of the night spreads across Arrakis.

Stilgar begins the trek up the dune, where you wait, bathed in the moonlight– you’re wearing a different outfit, a dress with intricate beading marking your place as a bride, and instead of a veil, you are wearing a much thinner, transparent shawl that allows Stilgar to make out your silhouette. Your hair is interwoven with his Water Rings.

Stilgar has always known you are beautiful, but especially now of all times, with your blue eyes reflecting him in the silver moonlight as he meets you at the top of the hill– and it’s not a distraction, because he’s meant to be here with you.

He likes you a lot– there’s a taut feeling in his throat, as he realizes he’s watched countless friends and family members get married, but never thought of himself as one of them– and in the past, Stilgar had always felt there was something wrong with him for not marrying sooner. But now, he’s so thankful he waited, because it’s you. His holy, veiled priestess.

You share his faith, after all– but over the last few weeks he’s seen that you share his judgement, too. He only hopes that his feelings will be returned some day and that he won’t scare you off– Stilgar knows he can sometimes be too much.

Reverend Mother Ramallo approaches you two from the other side of the dune. She speaks in Ancient Chakobsa– old marriage passages from the faith, hymns that are sacred in their meaning– and the unmarried women below, begin their chanting and agreement with the hymns. They dance.

Then, Ramallo asks Stilgar in Chakobsa, if he is willing to take care of you, to entirely claim you in every way as the Fremen faith dictates– to not leave you behind. You know she cares for you so deeply, as she’s watched you grow up from a young girl, and you hear a slight twitch in her voice, giving her away as someone who will miss you.

Stilgar responds without hesitation that yes, he will always be there for you. And you believe him. You don’t hear a hint of irony or lying in his tone.

Maybe this isn’t just a marriage of political nature.

Ramallo yells in Chakobsa, using the Voice: “It is finished!”

/

Celebrations are loud, jovial, necessary after the Fremen endured hardship from the Harkonnen. People are dancing, eating, congratulating you.

You’re happy to receive their blessings, and give them back if they wish to hear it from you. You’re still a Sayyadina, and today of all days, you bring especially good luck to them.

Paul Atreides walks forward after Nezua dips– she’s kissed you on your cheek and solemnly stated she’ll miss you at the temple bedrooms– and you’re intrigued, as you’ve never spoken to him before.

“Muad’dib!” Stilgar is next to you, and he shakes his hands, clapping his shoulder, and Paul hugs him.

“Stilgar, Biet–” Paul’s eyes cross towards you, and you don’t sense the same plotting look his mother has. “Congratulations. It’s so interesting to witness a Fremen marriage. I feel like I’ve learned so much just watching. I did not know Sayyadina could use the Voice, as well. Impressive.”

You think he’s rather compassionate, but there’s no telling if it’s an act. You ignore that– you’re meant to be happy now.

“Thank you.” You gently squeeze his hand. “I don’t use it often– I believe it should necessitate a purpose.”

“As do I.” Paul agrees, and you are blown away by how casually he reveals that he can use it. Another sign, perhaps, that he is who you and Stilgar think he is.

“In coming times, maybe you too will marry in our way.” You make as an offhand comment, so not to overtly reveal your surprise.

Paul is mildly surprised by this, but he doesn’t look displeased with that. “Maybe. I think many women here are quite beautiful, they could probably pick a noble Feydakin than someone like me.”

“In time, Muad’dib, you may be a Feydakin too. You have the strength to be one.” Stilgar corrects him, and you like that your husband is so forthcoming, a true mentor that supports everyone.

“Besides, you’ll need to be one if you want to impress Chani.” You input, and Stilgar looks a little taken aback by this development, while Paul looks more interested.

“Really? You think Chani and I…” Paul swallows down whatever he’s going to say, looking suddenly a bit darker and worried. “I would be lucky if she considered me.”

Paul bids you two goodbye, while Stilgar laughs. “A humble one, isn’t he?”

“Better that than overly boastful.” You hum. “Either way, I hope he is not perpetuating a false image.”

Stilgar agrees. 

As the party dies down, he takes your hand, and together, you walk back to Stilgar’s quarters.

/

He’s rather quiet as he sits on his bedding, cracking his knuckles.

Stilgar is not afraid of you, exactly– he’s afraid of what your relationship should or should not be. He does not know the boundaries in which you two operate, and he’s afraid once he opens that conversation up, of your potential rejection. 

Other men would tell him that as your wife, there should be no confusion– that he should be able to bridge the gap, and you would accept it, no questions asked.

But Stilgar had not come this far by simply guessing at things. He knows as Naib, the general context you two have– and he needs to know if you feel the same way, if you don’t just want this marriage to be symbolic in nature.

“Sayyadina,” He calls you, and you sit next to him on his bedding, staying a short distance away, just for respect.

You laugh at that internally. You’re his wife, and you still call on some level of respect. Maybe because you’re afraid of acting on these feelings you have– a hunger for closeness– and you would rather use the excuse of respect instead of pushing him towards you.

Stilgar says Sayyadina with fondness in his tone, though. A formal, spiritual term has never sounded more husky, more inappropriately close than ever– you let yourself hope.

“I’ll ask you this once, and make your answer clear, so I do not bother you otherwise.” Stilgar pauses, wanting to be sensitive about this subject. He doesn’t know exactly what you’re comfortable with. “I want to know if you want to be more than wife in name, or if your heart is drawn to being within your faith.”

“Who says I can’t be both, Stilgar?” You bite your lip, and Stilgar’s face stiffens. “There’s nothing in our faith that says a priestess can’t have both.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He pauses, grappling with what to say.

“I don’t want to be a burden to you.” He says, and you laugh, for real this time, a louder laugh than he’s heard before, and he grins, liking the twinkling sound of it, but then frowns. “I’m being serious. You should not have to lie with me just for everyone else’s benefit. The marriage has brought people to greater spirits, already.”

“What if it’s for my benefit?” You speak in a hushed tone, but Stilgar listens to every word, inching closer to you. “What if I feel more spiritual when I’m next to you? I feel the Maker’s way flow through me whenever we speak, I feel like I can understand and interpret so much more because I know we are supposed to be with each other, not just metaphorically, but in all ways.”

Stilgar is taken aback by your boldness, and so are you to some degree, but you continue. “I’ve been ignoring this the last few weeks, but I think that’s what love is. What is faith without love? I think I love you, because you make me understand what I’ve been missing…” You smile up at him. “You’re my greater context, Stilgar.”

Ah, He thinks. This woman is too sweet to me. She understands.

“Sayyadina…” He sighs, a deep shuddering sigh revealing so much emotion; relief, really. You’ve never seen Stilgar like this, but it gives you a sense of how much he represses. “You feel like the missing piece I’ve been waiting for. You… you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for a woman that understands me.”

“I never thought I could have the chance to love anyone,” He admits with some reservation. “My appearance tends to ward women away.”

“But you’re beautiful.” You whisper, smiling up at him, and Stilgar feels your hands trace around his face, and he closes his eyes, listening to the sweetness of your voice. “You’re only intimidating because of who you are, Stilgar, but I promise, you’re beautiful. I’m not the only woman who thinks that.”

Before he can respond in turn, that you’re more beautiful than him, the stubbornness that you two share– you let that unspoken urge inside you, the one you’ve never acted on before, overtake you. And you pull his face downwards in a searing kiss, one where he can still taste the spice on your lips after what you ingested at your wedding dinner.

He honestly has not touched a woman in years– not out of some purposeful celibacy, but more because he has been so focused on maintaining Sietch Tabr. And whatever memories he has of that time, right now is easily trumping them.

You part your lips as Stilgar does, kissing him with abandon, again and again as your lips move with his, and he squeezes your waist before pulling you onto his lap.

He groans. There’s a hard bulge in his pants that you’re sitting squarely upon, you know what that is– you’re not entirely uncultured about this.

You experimentally roll your hips over his crotch, finding a sudden pleasure in your lower half as you do so, and he stutters, suddenly, pulling your face away from his, breaking the kiss.

“Sayyadina– wait, slow down.” He holds your wrists in his hands firmly, the heat of the moment causing both of you to sweat. The night air seeps through Stilgar’s window– hot and humid.

You’ve never wanted to be closer to him.

“I’m a little inexperienced. I don’t want to hurt you.” He explains, and you scoff.

“So am I.” You tell him. “Actually, I’ve never…”

“Oh.” Stilgar takes on a very judicial look, one that you’re determined to stop before he rejects you for the “greater good” or something like that. “I would’ve never guessed that. You gave me the impression of expertise.”

“Then let me gain it.” You proclaim, and you cut him off before he says what you know he will. “You’re not forcing me into anything. I want to do this, just like I wanted to marry you.”

He scoffs, now, but Stilgar likes the sound of that and he kisses you again, pulling your shawl off, feeling you wrap around his torso with your legs– he feels you moan and shudder when he squeezes your thighs. He loves this, and when he starts removing your dress– you don’t stop him.

He pulls it down and under you, and you’re bare underneath. Stilgar examines your breasts with admiration– they’re the perfect size, they fit you well– and he immediately takes to one of your nipples with his teeth, causing you to cry out.

As he continues these bites over your chest, squeezing your breasts and your behind, suckling on your neck, feeding off of your sweat, you feel yourself slicken, wetness catching on Stilgar’s pants– so much quicker than you’re used to, when you used to touch yourself in your room at the temple. A waste of water, maybe, but it was worth the relief occasionally.

Stilgar notices, and he wordlessly lays you across his bed, spreading your legs open, looking down at your pussy.

You’re not completely sure what he’s doing, and you feel slightly vulnerable like this– entirely on display for him.

“Let me drink from you, Sayyadina. I would be honoured by this blessing– I thirst, and it would not be a waste.” He says in hushed tones, as he kneels in front of you, and you feel yourself slicken more if that’s possible. The sacred overtones of worship are not lost on you, practically becoming a kink for you as he speaks.

You nod, and he grasps your thighs tightly, practically pushing down on them so you’ll stay with open legs for him– he strokes them a few times, and then dives in with his tongue, lapping and licking slowly upwards to your clitoris, then quickly a few times to taste you faster, which causes you to seize as feelings of warmth and white-hot sensitivity overtake you, and with your fluids, and his saliva, you’re quickly reaching the point of finishing. His beard tickles, and you squirm a little, and start writhing and sweating, moans ebbing out of your throat, but that only makes Stilgar pull you in closer, tighter, pushing his tongue closer, almost inside, refusing your escape.

You don’t want that, anyways. And you finish in his mouth with a flourish as Stilgar laps up what you’ve given him– a drink from a Sayyadina.

You think he’s done, but you lean back with another sigh– a near scream, really– as Stilgar begins to lick at your clitoris, suckling on it, until you’re wet and aching again– and then he uses his fingers to spread your pussy open, and begins to fuck you with his tongue. It’s amazing, wet and writhing and and filthy– it feels nothing like your own fingers and entirely more adept at getting you to another orgasm. The speed at which his tongue languishes inside you should be considered unholy, all things considered– but you feel high, you feel like you’re closer to the Maker than ever– and he suckles at you, his lips closing around your entrance as you moan again and orgasm directly into his mouth.

Stilgar groans. He’s in love with your taste– he thinks he might wake you up every morning like this, if you’ll let him. He’s also painfully hard now– his cock strains against his pants, and he quickly starts undressing.  

“Sorry. I needed a second taste.” Stilgar apologizes, standing up, but he’s not sheepish about anything as he continues to rub you, to stroke your pussy to keep you wet. Up, down, up, down, Stilgar could get addicted to this sensation around his fingers– you’re so warm, soft, wet– he needs to be in you.

You’re beginning to feel overstimulated– you’re covered in sweat, and in between your thighs you’re soaked, practically dripping all over Stilgar’s hand as he continues to work you– and you twitch as you sit up, Stilgar’s fingers prodding inside you.

His cock bobs upwards, shiny with pre-cum, and the tip, hard and redder, while the rest is a flattering tan brown. Although this is your first time viewing the male genitalia, you’re drawn to it. You like how he looks partially naked– vulnerable like you, but warmer, soft and hard in different places– and you reach to take his shirt off, letting his full self be unsheathed.

And you like this– you feel an animalistic draw to his body, his chest hair, the broad muscles under them, and he moans loudly when your finger prods at the tip of his cock. Stilgar lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and spreads your ass, his cock nudging inside your pussy slowly, groaning as it does, gritting his teeth as every centimetre feels like another added pleasure of wetness, the bounds of which he does not know, but he is excited to be familiar with and do this again and again. 

You sink around him easily– you moan against his neck as you do– and Stilgar bottoms out, feeling you grip and tighten around him.  

After what feels like an eternity– both of you drunk on just being intertwined in such a way– he lifts you up again, thrusting outwards, and then back in, pushing you down on his cock, slamming into you. Stilgar’s warrior strength comes into play here– he fucks you relentlessly, and grips you so tightly you think you might be melting onto him. He begins to pound into you, your ass and thighs jiggling with the force of it all, and a severely perverted squelching and slapping sound builds up over time, over and over, his thighs and balls slapping against your thighs and ass, the sound of which you are sure is extremely loud.

You don’t care. You moan loudly, almost yelling as Stilgar’s cock twitches and catches inside you in a place so deep, you’ve never touched it yourself. 

You shake and twitch, barely holding onto him as you do, feeling an immense pressure build inside you, almost painfully, but with pleasure. Stilgar claims your mouth as he thrusts, kissing you, slipping his tongue inside as he drinks from you there– and he loves feeling you moan against his mouth as he does so.

He presses you against him tightly, rutting upwards, and then together he tips the both of you onto his bed again, him on top of you, this time using his fingers to play with your clitoris as you clench around his thrusting. You cum again, this time your fluids adding to Stilgar’s pleasure, and you moan as Stilgar’s hands tighten around your waist. The slap of his skin against yours is laden with sweat and your cum, but Stilgar is insatiable, and he thrusts harder.

You feel him inhale, moan, bite at your neck, and you feel his cock twitch again as he cums inside you, pulling out in a hazy stream, and you writhe against him, feeling the heat of the moment conjoining with the cooler air of the night.

He sighs, satisfied with what has happened, lying down next to you. “May Shai-Hulud allow us to do this again.”

/

Stilgar has to leave again, the next morning, as more Fremen are involved in fighting Harkonnen harvesters, and he wants to oversee this.

“I’m sorry, Sayyadina…” He swallows. He doesn’t want to leave you behind– if he could take you along on his back, he would. 

“Sahar.” You tell him.

“What was that?” He asks, and you wrap your arms around him and his stillsuit, dressed in your traditional Sayyadina dressings again.

“Sahar is my Sietch name. My sacred name, only for my sisters to know.” You explain, although you’re sure Stilgar knows this. He only knows your Fremen name, after all. “Since we’re married– I thought you should know my true name.”

“Sahar is a wonderful name… meaning morning.” Stilgar looks out the window with a slight smile. “But you outdo any of Arrakis’ sunrises, my dear.”

You laugh at that, as Stilgar knew you would. 

“You will still be Sayyadina to me, no matter what name you have.” He says, and there’s a warm feeling in your heart when you hear this, that he has a special name for you. You take his hands, and press your palm to his forehead.

“Oh Shai-Hulud… keep Stilgar safe from unwarranted danger today.” You whisper in Chakobsa, closing your eyes, and Stilgar closes his eyes too. “Do not risk his life.”

Your harsh, suddenly grating tone from using the Voice has Stilgar opening his eyes again. He has never heard you use it before.

“Thank you.” He pulls you up for a soft, parting kiss– and then after memories of last night echo inside his mind– he gives you a firmer, lingering kiss, laden with love for you.

/

Stilgar finds that despite his obvious devotion in his commitment to you– the women are more interested in him than ever.

And if he was a lesser man, perhaps he would act on this. But Stilgar has not forgotten the plan, and he certainly hasn’t forgotten you, not so soon. He knows you two are two sides of the same coin– meant to be.

This was not meant to be an outcome. He sees Feydakin women smiling at him, maybe a little too much– or maybe he has not noticed until now.

You said he was beautiful, and he had thought maybe that was just according to you. But seeing how Lady Jessica greets him, not impolitely but just with more… vulnerability, especially after her duke was killed, he thinks maybe you’re right. Maybe he has something.

Jessica stares at the deathstill, trembling over what Stilgar has told her. She must drink the Water of Life, she must take the place of a Reverend Mother– and she does not want this. She wants nothing more than to be comforted at this moment, because of what a tribulation this new order shall be on her.

Or at least, that’s the image she’s conveying, she hopes, and she believes she has Stilgar wrapped around her finger, her coying, Bene Gesserit way meant to coax people closer to her, and by extension, her wishes.

And Jessica can tell she’s done it right when Stilgar leans over, wipes away her tear, and licks it. Perhaps she can secure more support through playing the part of a sad widow.

/

It’s Nezua who saw what happened.

She interrupts your prayer, your first prayer after returning to the temple, sanctimonious as it is.

“Sahar, please don’t be upset. Just hear me out.” She pulls you into the main hall, where your sisters and Ramallo are reading ancient texts.

“What is it? What’s happened?” You look around wildly. 

Nezua’s deep blue eyes blink, as she wonders what to tell you, how to say it gracefully.

“I saw him. Naib. Standing close to that woman, to Lady Jessica– she cried about becoming a Reverend Mother– he stroked her face, licking a tear away.” Nezua admits, and you instantly blink back sudden tears.

“But he–”

“Men can be rascals, Sahar.” Nezua reprimands you, and you swallow, knowing you don’t know as much as her.

You do know about Jessica, though.

“She has been eyeing him for a while… I’ve watched it happen. She’s got her Bene Gesserit tactics, we know that. She wants to be a Mother, no matter what farce she applies in this moment to gain approval.” You shake your head. “He wouldn’t do that for no reason– she’s very convincing. And Stilgar supports everyone, why would he doubt her?”

Nezua calms down a bit.

“But if he wanted to marry her?” Ramallo suddenly chimes in, and you and your sisters watch as she speaks, suddenly convinced of something. “Would it not be the ultimate culmination of what we seek? The mother of the Lisan Al Gaib, integrated into our society… nothing could compare to how many Fremen this would convert. How many people would choose our way.”

“Great Mother, you picked me for that purpose.” You speak up, almost immediately, without fear. You don’t care if you’re speaking out of turn– you do not want to share Stilgar, lose him to some other woman– and here it seems everyone else is okay with it.

“Yes, and you’ve done well, but you of all people should want us to do better.” She remarks, not without a bit of bite in her tone. You hate that it has to be this way, that you stand in the way of something you used to wholeheartedly believe.

Just this once, you want to be selfish. You have faith that Paul will be Lisan Al Gaib, anyways, so why can’t it just be you and Stilgar?

“Once Jessica drinks the Water of Life, she will be a powerful Reverend Mother– all of Arrakis may be swayed by her.” Ramallo peers at your expression. “Don’t tell me you feel something as foolish as love, Sahar.”

“And if I do?” You state, blatantly.

“Then you must be loving enough to see that this would improve Stilgar’s life by far. Men may take multiple wives, you know that.” Ramallo tuts. “Perhaps you’re not as clever as I once thought.”

“He won’t do it. He knows that his love helps me, and as long as that’s in his priorities…” Your voice dies down, feeling like everything is falling apart as you speak.

“Yes, and how long will he care for a lower priestess when he can have a Reverend Mother? Especially one as faithful as him.” Ramallo shakes her head at your ignorance.

“Shut up! You’ve never felt love, you unspeakable witch–” You scream in Chakobsa, using the Voice, the full power of which seems to shake the temple.

Ramallo slaps you, hard enough that you fall back against the floor. Your skin hums with the stinging feel of a new bruise, sure to make it’s mark on your cheek– and she hisses at you.

“Insolent child. It was I that brought you here. It was I that even gave you the chance to be with Naib Stilgar. He would have never looked at you otherwise.” She mutters, and you feel your eyes glisten with tears.

She and your sisters leave, and you hold your breath, trying not to cry. Nezua strokes your arm.

“Perhaps, if he marries Jessica, it will only be a marriage in name.” She tries, but you shake your head. “You would be the one he really loves, Sahar.”

“Or I would be like a concubine– there to produce children, nothing more.” You think of how quickly you leapt into Stilgar’s waiting arms yesterday, and wonder if you were wrong. If his only intent was to have someone he could fuck on a ready basis.

You shake your head. “I need to speak to him.”

/

You sit on the ground of his quarters, stating a small prayer to stay calm, and when Stilgar walks in, he sounds pleased to see you.

“Sayyadina, I did not expect you back so soon.” He touches your hand, but based on how you draw yourself back, he knows something is wrong. “What is it?”

“You want Jessica. Right? To be your wife?” You say, and he shakes his head.

“We discussed it once–” and your stomach drops at that. “But it would have only been a marriage of convenience to protect her, long ago. Nothing more.”

“Then what happened today, in the deathstill?” You ask, and Stilgar furrows his brows.

“I only relayed Ramallo’s message to her. And she was a bit sad, so I comforted her, that’s all. She almost wasted some water by crying, so I drank it.” Stilgar sits down on the ground next to you. “I promise you, I do not want her.”

“Even if she’s a reverend mother? Closer to your faith? Easier to perpetuate our–” Here you stutter. “The mission?”

“Whoa, whoa.” He softens visibly. “Sayyadina, if you cannot see now that I love you, tell me how to right that wrong.”

“Tell me why you believe you’ll stick with me–” You tear up again and wipe it away. “Tell me you won’t leave me.” 

“I have no interest in Jessica– she is a conniving one, but whatever she thinks may happen, it will not.” He shrugs. “I don’t believe she loves me or wants me in that way, either– she still mourns her duke.”

Of course, you think. She might have only been staring at me that one time because she remembered when she used to be in love. Maybe she was even jealous… Jessica was a concubine.

You suddenly feel much more at peace. You don’t think you would’ve ever left Stilgar even if he had married Jessica– but you’re suddenly more understanding of her pain, to be the one not known in any collected record despite being loved.

“I only did anything I could to make her feel more comfortable with her new role.” Stilgar grins. “And if she succeeds– the faith will have more people interested in it, and there will be less pressure on us.”

“That’s true.” You finally tear your gaze from the floor to look at him, and he smiles at you before frowning at the bruise on your cheek.

“What’s this?” Stilgar gently touches you, and he gets angry hearing you hiss.

“Nothing, just a silly altercation.” You explain, but he’s not satisfied with that.

“With who?”

“Ah… Ramallo slapped me after I said she would never understand love.” Suddenly you’re ashamed, and you feel as if Stilgar would be disappointed in you. “She said the best thing would be if you married Jessica– and I guess I… I didn’t want to lose you, so I used the Voice on her.” “You did?” Stilgar raises his eyebrows, in surprise that you’d do such a thing, make a rash judgement like that against your elder. “I’m sorry you’re hurt.”

You lean into his touch, feeling better that he’s not angry at you.

“But I am sorry I wasn’t there to see you take ownership of me.” He laughs quietly. “You really love me that much? Then I’m only yours.”

You smile so hard at that– massive relief flowing through your nerves– and Stilgar kisses your bruise, before kissing your lips and making you feel whole again.

[chanis-banani]

Hellooo, could I request making out with SF9 when you get a sec? Thanks

Note: I wasn't sure which format to go with for this request and I've been sitting on it for a while. Eventually I decided to go with headcanons for different kisses for each member. I hope you like it! :) Note 2: Thank you @lost-inthedream for helping me brainstorm

Genre: suggestive - minors dni!

Contains: marking, wall-pushing, teasing, gentle biting

Youngbin - hungry kisses

There's something about his kisses, a certain kind of despair, as if he needs your touch to survive

This man is such a hungry kisser. He just wants to eat you up. He will lay his hand in the back of your neck and wrap his remaining arm tightly around you, almost like a snake

Once you start making out, you can never give him enough. He's always so hungry for more. It's almost like you're his oxygen and when you pull away he nearly struggles to breathe

Sometimes he'll lay down on his back and pull you on top of him so he can hold you tightly against his chest while you make out

This position also allows him to stroke his fingers through your hair and rub circles on your back

The way he kisses you is almost like he's giving you a taste of something more... Like he's hinting to other things he could do with his mouth

Inseong - spontaneous kisses

He likes to leave little pecks on your lips and cheeks out of nowhere

Very gentle with you. Most of the time his kisses will be rather soft and cute

Will tenderly cup your face and stroke your cheeks with his thumbs when he kisses you

When you're doing simple stuff together, like putting the groceries away, he will often distract you with a short, sweet kiss on the lips or forehead

Also leaves a lot of kisses on the back of your neck and top of your head every time he walks by

And when you stay over for the night, be prepared to be woken up with more of his cute kisses

He usually gives you quick little pecks, so sometimes after he kisses you, you have to pull him back to get more

But he also shows a bit of a cocky attitude at times, making cheesy remarks in between kisses

Jaeyoon - playful kisses

Such a tease in everything he does

He will hold you tightly against him, kissing you with an almost overwhelming passion

And then, just when you're getting completely into it, he pulls away with a big smirk on his lips, knowing how needy you can get when he interrupts you like this

He likes to see how your lips become red and swollen when he kisses them

He loves nothing more than to see your reaction to the things he does to you

Will definitely place his leg between yours and use it to apply some pressure to your sensitive area

Wants to make you squirm and ask for more and he won't be satisfied until you're nearly trembling in his arms

If for whatever reason, you'd want to rile him up even more, you have to say little praises against his lips

Dawon - sloppy kisses

A very horny kisser. Even the slightest peck on the lips can sometimes be enough to make him hard. Let alone having a full-on makeout session with tongue.

Even if the kiss starts out nice and gentle, he gets carried away so easily

He'll place his hands on your cheeks or neck to pull you close while he makes out with you, pulling you in for an even deeper kiss

Doesn't mind at all if things get a little sloppy. In fact, he likes it that way and might just make a mess on purpose

Like when you pull away from each other and he looks at your lips to see that they are glistening from his saliva

Even if it's a little filthy, it just makes him so so hungry for more...

And to make things even worse, he has the terrible tendency to grind against you every time you make out

Needless to say, almost every time you kiss him, it quickly escalates

Zuho - dangerous kisses

Making out with Zuho can be a dangerous game. He doesn't need much provocation to push you against a wall.

Don't even think about biting his lip unless you enjoy having a hand on your throat

Seriously, it's very dangerous to mess with him. Every time you try anything to rile him up, no matter how small, he takes it as an opportunity to mess with you

After all, there's nothing he loves more than to tease you right back

He might refrain from kissing you completely, only to let his tongue travel along your neck instead while you entertain him with your squirming and whimpering

While Dawon tends to escalate into more than just making out, Zuho is an expert at making you want more, without giving it to you

Once he has you where he wants you, he's very patient

His kisses can be both a reward and a punishment

Rowoon - possessive kisses

When Rowoon kisses you, it's a bit like he's marking his territory

Because will quite literally mark your neck, for example

Definitely cups your face with his hands and pulls you tightly against him

Will engage in PDA with you, to show everyone how you're his. He won't go far with it, since he knows how to keep things classy, but little things like holding you by your waist and giving you little kisses on your cheeks

Also he finds it very cute when you have to stand on your toes to reach him for a kiss

Another thing he will do a lot is hold your chin to make you look at him. He won't do it roughly like Zuho, but rather tenderly, like he just wants to make eye contact with his special person~

One of his favorite things is to have brief makeout sessions in the car and watch you get out completely flustered

Taeyang - demanding kisses

Taeyang likes to toy with you

When he kisses you, he always makes you hungry for more, but you never know whether he might really give it to you

His kisses are demanding but not in a needy way. Rather in a way that makes you needy

He will bite your lip because he is Taeyang and he can do what he wants, and he follows it up by pulling away to see your reaction with a big grin on his lips

Runs his fingers along your waist to tease you and pull you closer to him

Basically Taeyang's kisses are almost always a way of challenging you, riling you up. He wants to activate you to do more with him without giving you any guarantee there will be more

Sometimes he'll stop mid-kiss to look at you and observe you for a bit. If your expression is desperate enough, he'll be satisfied and leave it at that, leaving you hungry for more

Hwiyoung - attempted careful kisses

He is kind of conflicted when he makes out with you. On one hand he wants to be careful and gentle, yet at the same time, he struggles to do that because he gets needy

Usually things will start slow and gentle

But he doesn't need much to lose himself in the pleasure. Small things like wrapping your arms around his waist can be enough

Or even worse: when you stroke your fingers through his hair

This will drive him crazy in an instant, leading him to lift you up and place you on some surface like a table or kitchen counter

He loves to let his fingers wander along your body, gently stroking your neck, shoulders, chest and sides

And if you whimper enough, he won't stop there (if you catch my drift)

It's interesting to see him switch from sweet and tender to needy and a little rough so quickly

And it's especially adorable when he switches back to his gentle self suddenly, placing the softest cutest kisses on your forehead

Chani - sleepy kisses

Chani feels so comfortable around you, he tends to get sleepy sometimes. He can let his guard down with you. But since he likes to spend time together, he tries his best not to fall asleep and that's how the makeout sessions often start

He presses his lips against yours to stay awake and soon you can feel his tongue

It doesn't take long for a full, lazy makeout session to unfold

You'll often be cuddled up in bed or on the couch together when suddenly you feel Chani's hand reaching out to your thigh. While he struggles to keep his eyes open, he reaches out to kiss you

Such a needy boy. He's very bad at hiding it when he's aroused. Not that he really tries to hide it anyway

He will interrupt the kisses to bring his mouth to your neck and lick from your collarbone up all the way behind your jaw

Feeling his nose agaisnt your skin when he kisses your neck

Maybe a bulge oops

[beautifulchris]

mischief managed

pairing: han jisung x gn!reader

wc: 3,2k

featuring: lee minho, kim seungmin, sf9’s chani, nct’s jaemin

summary: jisung tries to break every single rule with you

genres: hogwarts!au, partners-in-crime!au, ravenclaw!jisung, slytherin!reader, fluff, comedy

warnings: swearing

notes: I wanna apologize to jaemin for doing him so dirty, my baby doesn’t deserve this sdjkfqlk feedback is always appreciated! moodboard made by me, pictures found on the internet. reposting works from my old blog

order of writing: chan - jisung - minho - hyunjin - jeongin - seungmin - changbin - felix

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @straykidsland

tag list: @badwithten @raethethey send ask/dm/comment to be added!

On the King’s Cross train station on your very first day, you almost missed the train because your dad absolutely wanted to take the best pic of his precious kid going to the mythic Hogwarts school. So you ended up in an almost empty compartment. The other compartments around were full and there was just this boy alone.

“Hey, can I sit here?” You probably startled him because he looked up at you with wild eyes but instantly smiled at your sight.

“Yeah, sure.”

“What are you doing all alone?” you asked as you sat in front of him.

He shrugged. “Looking at my chocolate frog cards collection.”

“Wow, nice. Can I see?”

He handed them to you, “Yes, of course. I’m Jisung by the way.”

“I’m Y/N.”

Since that day, you were inseparable and soon became partners-in-crime. Being put in different houses didn’t stop you.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿ฺ

After learning Alohomora in charms class, you wandered in the castle to find a forbidden office to open and what better one than the caretaker’s where a whole lot of interesting things were stored?

There, you found a few dungbombs that Jisung instantly took, confiscated brooms and chains. A lot of perfectly polished chains hung on the walls.

“I understand why he doesn’t stay here often,” you snorted and returned to your inspection. In a dusty cabinet named ‘Confiscated and Highly Dangerous’, you found an old piece of blank parchment. It was mysteriously well conserved taking into account where it was so you put it in your pocket. Further inspection will be done to know how a simple parchment could be ‘highly dangerous’.

“I’m kinda disappointed. Sure we’ll use the dungbombs wisely but I thought there were more interesting treasures.”

“Don’t be so down yet Ji, I found a mystery to resolve. Let’s go before we get caught.”

Fortunately, you didn’t get caught. You both went to your common room, being a quiet place with almost no students at this hour. You showed Jisung the parchment and counted on his intelligence and logic to figure out how it worked. After a few minutes, he looked up at you and smirked.

“I feel like it’s in good hands now.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, he put his wand out of his pocket and pointed it to the parchment.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he simply said. You were going to question him when the parchment caught your eye. Ink was spreading on the paper and soon you could read:

“Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present…”

“The Marauder’s Map,” Jisung whispered with stars in his eyes.

“What is this? Open it!”

Jisung did as told and both of you were dumbfounded by what you discovered. A map of the whole school, including the secret passages that are hidden within its walls and the location of every person in the grounds, portrayed by a dot. This map, a true masterpiece, within your hands was a disaster for everyone else.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿ฺ

Three years later, you knew everything you could possibly have learned about the school. Neither Ravenclaw or Slytherin could win the house cup as long as you both were in Hogwarts. No matter the amount of effort Seungmin, Changbin and Minho would make to earn points, they could never make up for your wickedness. You did earn points sometimes in classes when you answered correctly to a teacher’s question and you weren’t the only one to lose points either so you didn’t feel so bad. You did lose more points than you earned but shhh. Let's not talk about that.

One day, on your way to the lake after lunch, Gryffindor Jaemin called your name so you stopped in your tracks and waited for him to join you.

“Hey, Y/N, I was wondering if you would like to study with me after class? For transfiguration.”

Uh. Jaemin has never been your friend and the most he ever said to you before now was “Get out of my way, filthy Slytherin.” the second day of your first year. Therefore you were startled, to say the least. Plus you wanted to study with Jisung, not some acquaintance you never talked to and weren’t interested in.

“Not really, I already have plans for tonight. Thank you for the offer though.”

You tried to sound as nice as you could but without much convection and left before he could reply. A few meters away, Jisung saw the whole scene and wondered what you had told him because he looked displeased. He joined you and you smiled at him before intertwining fingers.

The next day, Jisung and you were sunbathing with a nice autumn breeze on a bench in the courtyard when someone came in front of you, preventing the sun from warming your face. You opened your eyes and were met with Jaemin and a few of his friends.

“Can you move please?” you politely demanded, since you didn’t want to start anything.

“Are you dating him?” he asked, pointing at your best friend.

“No?”

“Then why did you reject my date proposal?”

Oh my god. Really? You were going to put him in place but Jisung’s mocking laugh stopped you.

“Really dude? You want to do this here?”

“I don’t think you’re in the conversation.” Jaemin’s glare didn’t please you.

“Should’ve asked to talk to Y/N in person then instead of creating unnecessary drama.”

Jaemin looked like he was going to throw hands so you spoke before it went too far.

“Guys, let’s stay civil here. I rejected you cause I’m not interested in you, there's no other motive. Now can you let us be?” His friends laughed at him and you could swear you heard one of them say something about a bet.

“Wait, asking Y/N out on a date was a bet?”

“And what about it?” Jaemin said cockily. Jisung was fuming and you were disgusted by the boy.

“Can’t you respect people? No one deserves to be a bet’s victim. You guys suck.”

He scoffed. “I’m sure you’re the type of guy who hides when it comes to fight.”

“Try me.” You knew by his glare that he wasn’t playing anymore. Jaemin was smirking but not for long.

“Let’s duel.”

Jisung was so fast to put his wand out, it surprised Jaemin. You tried to stop them but it was useless because their pride was at stake.

Before you could blink, Jaemin ended up mouthless and you heard a woman screaming but you didn’t listen, being amazed by the spell’s effect. Jisung took your hand and ran through the corridors, hearing the professor yelling she would remove twenty points from his house.

You managed to catch your breath while Jisung was answering an easy riddle —for him— to enter the Ravenclaw common room.

“I can’t believe you really did it.”

“He challenged me! You know I can’t say no to that,” Jisung sighed.

“I know. That was brilliant, by the way.” You sat on one of the comfortable chairs like you lived there —it wasn’t totally false— and you were followed by your partner-in-crime.

“Thanks! I practiced this one a lot, I couldn’t wait to use it for real.”

“I hope you didn’t do anything foolish,” said a voice behind you.

“Oh, Seungmin! I didn’t see you there.” Jisung turned around and smiled. Seungmin was reading a book in a blue armchair. He closed it and gave his attention to his friends. “I hope you’re not hoping too hard.”

“How much?”

“What do you mean?” Jisung’s innocent act didn’t work since the second time he used it but he was still trying three years later.

“Twenty,” you answered. Seungmin gave Jisung a look and he shrugged.

“It was fun and I don’t regret it.” He folded his arms and pouted like a grounded kid.

“Of course you don’t,” Seungmin loudly exhaled.

“You’ll make it up for it, won’t you?”

Seungmin sighed deeply. He felt like he had to work twice as hard to win back the points Jisung made their house lose but it was never enough. “I always do, but don’t you think you should calm down a bit?”

“Absolutely not. There’s still a lot of rules Y/N and I haven't broken yet, so many adventures and exciting moments to live.” Jisung smiled widely at you while Seungmin implored you with his eyes to stop him. Your gaze went from one to another without really knowing what to say and before you could, someone sat next to Jisung and typed on the table.

“What mischief are you going to commit today pals?” It was Chani, one of the chasers of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team and a fellow 4th year.

“Hey Chani! Already done, Jaemin asked for a duel and I used Oscausi on him.”

“Oh I don’t know th-” Chani started.

“OSCAUSI? Jisung, are you crazy?” Seungmin got up so fast he startled everyone, including others around him.

“Don’t worry, he got his mouth back,” Jisung waved his hand with indifference, Jaemin deserved it after all. “Eventually.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, really.” Jisung and Chani just laughed at that and Jaemin unofficially became your target for a lot of future mischief.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

“I haven’t lost any points in days, maybe I should start to pay attention in arithmancy class.”

It was this time of the year where the air was so cold you just stayed in your or Jisung’s common room and studied to prevent boredom.

Jisung pulled his robe hood over his head and gently slapped you in the back of the head. “Transfigure this quill into a rat and put it onto Jaemin’s head.”

“I mean, yeah, that’s a funnier idea.”

You lost ten points for it but you found it so fun you were back on track until the next cold day.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

You always loved the Ravenclaw common room. You didn’t dislike the Slytherin one, but it was cold and unfriendly when you weren’t a Slytherin yourself. Plus you loved warm places. What you liked the most about the Ravenclaw common room was the domed ceiling painted with stars. You could literally watch it for hours until having to go to your own dorm to sleep. If you weren’t friends with Jisung, you probably would never have been able to lose yourself in the stars because you weren’t that close with Seungmin or Chani and you didn’t really know any other Ravenclaws.

You were currently lying down on one of the couches, your head on Jisung’s lap, helping each other revise (yes, it happens!) for the history of magic test about the goblin rebellions you would have the next day, more concentrated on the stars than the subject. It was calming and it helped you stress less about the tests.

“Where’s Muffin?” you asked out of nowhere.

It made Jisung flinch but when didn't he? Just like she knew her name, she appeared next to you, purring loudly. You put her on your belly and patted her head lovingly.

“Don’t forget she’s my cat,” whined Jisung as he closed his book and put it on the coffee table next to the couch.

You smirked. “Don’t be jealous cause she loves me more.”

The elegant Siberian cat got up and rubbed herself against your best friend’s chest, waving her tail on your face.

“You were saying?”

You rolled your eyes and opened your transfiguration book which was on the floor. It was going to be a long night and you’ll probably have to go back to your dorm after curfew. Bless the marauder’s map in those moments.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

The Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin was coming up and Jisung had to practice more than usual as the seeker. He was going to play against Changbin after all. They both were really good so you wondered who would win the match. Gryffindor had won the first match against Slytherin and Ravenclaw won the one against Hufflepuff thanks to Jisung’s agility and speed.

You always followed Jisung at his training, it was the only moments he wasn’t trying to break the rules. He was pretty serious about Quidditch actually, even if after each training since your 3rd year, you went to drink a mug of butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks with Chani. It was like tradition.

The day of the match, you cheered on your team and your friends, so basically both teams. The competitive mindset of the two seekers could be felt from afar, everybody knew the match was going to be intense. At the end, the score was 350-200 for Slytherin, because Yugyeom, one of the Slytherin beaters, sent a bludger on Jisung’s broom, causing him to spin around and allowing Changbin to catch the golden snitch. It was a good game and Jisung didn’t fall so it was a double win.

Of course you would say that cause you're a Slytherin.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

Ravenclaws shared the defence against the dark arts class with Slytherins so, naturally, Jisung and you were seated together.

“Hello everyone! Today’s lesson is about acromentulas.” As the professor proceeded with his lecture, you felt your strong partner-in-crime shiver in his seat. You looked at him and were surprised by how much he looked terrified of acromentulas, not that you could blame him, these giant spiders were scary as hell.

“You okay there, bro?” He didn’t answer and was so pale you thought he was going to faint. You tried to comfort him but he was frozen.

The professor, not giving a care about what was happening in front of his face, decided to show some photos of acromentulas and as if it didn’t trigger Jisung enough, he eventually showed a real one in a big cage. From what you’ve seen in your books, it was nearly a teen so it wasn’t that big compared to his adult size but it was still big enough to scare the hell out of Jisung. He literally fell off his chair and the sound made the professor pay attention.

“Jisung? What happened?”

“He’s really scared of acromentulas, sir. Can you please put it away?”

“Oh. Yes, of course.”

While the professor finally put it away, you helped Jisung sit back.

“You okay?”

“Not really. That shit’s so grim.”

“I know, take deep breaths. It’s gone, everything’s alright.”

His breathing was unsteady for a few moments but he quickly got his composure back.

“I’m sorry Jisung, didn’t mean to frighten you. Class’ dismissed. Except you, Jisung.”

Everyone left except Seungmin, who checked on his friend, Jisung and you.

The professor went to his office and came back with chocolate.

“Here, eat this, you’ll feel better. I didn’t know it was this horrifying for you.”

He accepted the chocolate and ate it slowly. “It’s okay, you couldn’t know. Arachnophobia isn’t cool.”

“I won’t show any spider in this class from now on, I promise.”

“Thank you sir.”

“You can go now, drink water and rest.”

As you left class, Jisung whispered in your ear. “I don’t need water, I need a good butterbeer.”

You both chuckled and, after saying bye to Seungmin who certainly left to go to the library to do his homework, went to the Three Broomsticks using the secret passage beneath the one-eyed statue by the stairs of your last class to drink one or two mugs of butterbeer.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

Two months before the end of the year, Jisung had the baddest yet boldest idea so far. It was remarkable how he never failed to impress you.

“I’m going to use this potion on Jaemin, he’ll definitely leave you alone after that.”

“He left me alone after I put a rat onto his head but suit yourself, bro.”

You were hiding behind stairs on the third floor, waiting for Jaemin to walk down. Jisung was holding his flask tight in his hand. When you heard people talking, you discreetly looked up and saw Jaemin. Jisung didn’t hesitate and before you could react, his flask was emptied on Jaemin’s head. His hair slowly stood on end but it wasn’t all, it also turned into candy apple red. He somehow added Colovaria to the hair-rising potion and you were about to congratulate him when you got a glimpse of Minho upstairs.

Jaemin left, horrified, to the nearest bathroom to see the damage while Minho was casually walking down the stairs. Jisung lost his smile when he saw him and swallowed hard. Once arrived at your height, he opened his mouth.

“Rules are put in place to prevent hundreds of magically gifted hormonal hazards from accidentally turning themselves into sharks or losing an eye, or provoking the wrath of a giant spider, or blowing themselves up, or whatever. But here you are, trying to break every single one of them.” You almost felt relieved he didn’t scream at you.

“Look, I’m stupid, okay? And stupid people do stupid things. That’s a fact.”

You could have laughed at his excuse if Minho wasn’t staring at both of you like he was about to end you. He wasn’t generally scary but he was a prefect so when you did something wrong… well, let’s say you better not be seen by him.

“Do you use this lame excuse every time you do shit?”

“My other excuse is that it was Y/N’s idea but no one buys it.”

You looked at him in disbelief. Of course no one bought it, you were more like his sidekick than the mastermind.

“Not surprising. Anyway, fifteen points from Ravenclaw. I would have taken twenty but adding a transfiguration spell to a potion was really clever.”

He asked Jisung for a favor, talking privately in the nearest classroom for a few minutes. Then Minho left and Jisung came back to you with a big smile and you high-fived him. The Marauders Map usually prevented incidents like this and he wasn’t near this place when you last checked the Map. Minho literally came out of nowhere.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

On a fine and warm day, as Jisung and you successfully pranked Jaemin for the umpteenth time that year, he turned to you still laughing.

“You know what’s the strength of a duet? It’s to be two.”

“Thank you for your encouraging words. I now know you need me,” you winked.

The laughter slowly died down and the atmosphere became somehow serious. He sat on a bench and you joined him.

“Are you kidding? I’ll always need you.”

“Always? Sounds like a really long time,” you chuckled, more to tease him and put aside the fact that you need him just as much.

“Just wishing we’ll stay together forever,” he blurted out, his eyes concentrating on his shoes.

“You’re sweet. I would love that too.”

He lifted his head and looked you in the eye.

“Really? No need for the Imperius Curse then?” You blinked a few times, about to smack him when he smiled wildly. “Just kidding, I would never.”

“Anyway, go train for the match against Gryffindor, wouldn’t want Mark to catch the snitch before you, would you?”

“Won’t happen.”

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please let me know <3 and here's the masterlist!

[apinchofm]

🌊okay but i wrote a little thingy where nothing is wrong and paul teaches chani how to swim

[hwangyeonjun]

January 17th

pairing: kang chanhee (chani) x gn!reader

genre: fluff, humour (?)

birthday party masterlist

you were eyeing chanhee up down, eyes a bit narrow as you tried to read him while he was peacefully eating his cereal.

he looked completely normal, like nothing’s bothering him and there’s nothing on his mind.

it made you think if you had became so bad at reading him or does he really have no thoughts behind those eyes.

it’s his birthday today, and you, the brilliant prankster that you are, decided to pretend like you forgot about it. but it’s been five hours since you woke up, and chanhee did not show any signs of disappointment or any emotions in general.

“hey babe” you called him, gaining his attention as he gazed at you. “do you know what day it is?”

he scrunched his nose, thinking about it. “oh it’s tuesday” he smiled victoriously, proud of himself that he remembered.

you sighed, resting your arms on the kitchen counter in front of him. now you definitely looked disappointed and it made him panick. did he forget your birthday? anniversary?

“chanhee, do you know what day of the month today is?”

he quickly glanced at his phone. “seventieth” chanhee answered and gulped right after, your gaze intimidating him to the point that he was barely holding in.

“baby” you started. “when is your birthday?”

“january seventi- oh” you could almost see the lightbulb that turned on above his head. glancing at his phone again, he nodded. “yep, okay. got it”

[maessseongs]

© photo/gif is mine, do not take or repost please

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪

dandelions [3k] youngbin, inseong, one shot

He looked at them, enraged, the vibrant yellow color stinging his eyes, and he wished to tear them apart into pieces.

If Dandelions used to be his favorites, he now loathed them more than anything.

do you do nudes? [10,5k] dawon, chani, one shot

“Do you do nudes too?” he ends up asking, genuine.

The younger tries, probably hopes, to find any funny undertones in his voice. It is what he has grown to knowing the man, but he quickly gives up. He is serious.

Chanhee sighs, and puts down his pencil on top of his artbook.

“First of all -”

Make A Move Series

a breathless mess [4,4k] zuho, rowoon,

Juho finally decided to make his move and ask Seokwoo on a date. Only for his original idea to not go exactly as planned.

the cafeteria's sandwich [8,5k] yoo taeyang, hwiyoung, chani

Youngkyun has a crush on Taeyang, but Chanhee is in the way. It's okay though.

bestfriends and more [8,5k] inseong, dawon

First and most important rule is to make sure you don’t catch feelings. Sanghyuk apparently can never, for the love of God, stick to the rules.

In his defense, there was no such rule to begin with.

reminisce about all [6,6k] youngbin, jaeyoon

Five years ago they made a decision together. Five years from then, they make an entirely different decision. Again, together.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪

[slytherinshua]

　　　sf9 masterlist ⟡₊ ⊹

⋆˙⟡ = author's pick !

　　　　inseong

home with you

genre: fluff. inseong as a dad. | wc: 1.1k.

　　　　youngbin

nothing yet . . .

　　　　jaeyoon

nothing yet . . .

　　　　sanghyuk

cherry blossoms and amber wood ⋆˙⟡

genre: fluff. | wc: 1.1k.

　　　　juho

hold me tight ⋆˙⟡

genre: fluff. | wc: 2.6k.

　　　　seokwoo

nothing yet . . .

　　　　taeyang

nothing yet . . .

　　　　youngkyun

your distracting kiss ⋆˙⟡

genre: fluff. | wc: 948.

airbag can't save us ⋆˙⟡

genre: angst. breakup. | wc: 1.1k.

(don't) hang up

genre: fluff. | wc: 644.

　　　　chanhee

nothing yet . . .

　　　　other

texts with bf!maknae line

genre: fluff. fake texts.

[shinestarhwaa]

mtl on sf9 to like someone short & cute? thx <33

Hii! Thanks for the request! I made it a little shorter bc I do not have much time rn but I hope you like it!

MTL likely to... like someone short&cute

Most

Jaeyoon

Chani

Youngbin

Inseong

Dawon

Hwiyoung

Taeyang

Zuho

Rowoon

Least

Jaeyoon: I think Jaeyoon could have a bit of a size kink, since he is tall and muscular so he might find it adorable to be with someone who's a shorter and cuter type

Chani/Youngbin/Inseong: I picture these guys with a cute s/o, I think they'd fall for it easily. I think they'd have such a soft spot for it.

Dawon/Hwiyoung: I personally think that they wouldn't really mind their partner being any type of height, but they'd be really into a cute s/o.

Taeyang/Zuho/Rowoon: These men are tall af and I think they'd prefer dating a medium to tall s/o. They definitely would like the cute thing, but I think they'd fall for taller people.

[divinefireangel]

I wanna cuddle with Chani 🥺

Imagine walking up to him cause you're tired from studying/work and he just has one look at you and opens his arms. His face may not have a wide grin but oh boy his stomach is filled with butterflies. Once you sit next to him, pout on your face, your head in between his neck and shoulder, arms wrapped around him and oh my god he is melting, literally. His body relaxes, his arms abandon whatever he's holding so he can hold you instead, his fingers play with your hair, massaging your temple and scalp, his cheek is on the top of your head and he smiles at his little cuddle bug.

[lost-inthedream]

Hi hope you’re having a Good Friday. I’m in such a soft mood at the moment. Could we possibly get a head cannon for sf9 with the members reactions to their partner saying I love you for the first time 🥺

This is coming out so late :( Thank you for your request &lt;3

SF9 reactions to their special other saying I love you for the first time

Genre: purest fluff ever

Pairing: SF9 x gn reader

Youngbin:

You can see the surprise on his face clear like a crystal. His eyes have got shiny, his cheeks have become rosy, however, he does not alarm you. Actually, your boyfriend comes closer and pecks you on the forehead. Even if your hair is all in place, he slides an invisible lock behind your ear smiling like an idiot.

Inseong:

"Uh?" that's all he can say at first, which makes you think he has not understood what you said. "I love you" you repeat, louder this time. He brings his hand to his chest, startled by his own heartbeat. "You caught me off guard, baby. But I love you too. So, so much."

Jaeyoon:

At the moment snap these three words he realizes that this is your first time verbally confessing to him. That was not like he had not known the fact but hearing it hit differently. His smile is so cheesy as he tilts his head to the side.

Dawon:

"I thought you would never admit it". His cocky expression was faker than snow in the tropics. He was melting inside. "I'm just saying that to make you happy, not that I mean it" you joked back. He chuckled then pulled you by the wrist to start talking seriously. "I'm so happy to hear this from you. What can I do to make you repeat it?"

Zuho:

The man cannot stop himself from flooding you with smooches. He kisses your cheeks, your lips, your nose. Also, you better close your eyes. He stopped whatever he was doing in order to give you full attention. In no time, you all are laughing so much. That was an unnecessary display of affection but you have a cheesy boyfriend.

Rowoon:

"I love you too". He subtly replies and clicks a soft kiss on your hand. You feel sure that he was waiting to hear that from you. His demeanor is so warm yet doting. You all stay stealing kisses from each other for a while.

Yoo Taeyang:

Taeyang hugs you the faster he can and finds a way to snuggle into your neck. He gets so flustered that it feels absurd. He is so overwhelmed by his own thoughts after you made clear that you reciprocate his feelings. "I love you too, sweetheart"

Hwiyoung:

"Really??" He bluntly says, automatically, just to feel dumb and fumble to correct himself "I love you more". His smile is so precious that you cup his face and goes for a peck on his lips, which he transforms into a real kiss. He won't let go of you soon.

Chani:

Boy has no idea what to do so he just leans in and messily kisses you. Despite you offering no resistance to his sudden approach, your lips softly curl up, making his disconnect from you. Chani makes your foreheads touch indeed and whispers "I love you too"

[ghostgirl101]

I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||

A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩

You can't escape fate.

It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.

At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.

"You aren't resting."

Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.

"What troubles you?"

You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.

"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.

But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.

"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"

"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."

"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"

You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.

You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.

"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."

Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.

"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."

"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"

"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."

The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.

"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."

And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."

Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.

"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."

You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.

"Won't you tell me?"

Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.

"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.

"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.

"Not like you do," you answer steadily.

"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."

Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.

"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."

"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."

"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"

Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.

You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.

"A queen?"

"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.

"To being desired?"

You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."

"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."

You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.

"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."

"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."

"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."

══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie