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gutsby · 4 months

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Wedded Bliss

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.

You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frankly, you were mortified.

And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”

Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.

You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,

“Put it down.”

You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.

Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.

“Are we done?”

Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.

You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.

“Now darling—” he started.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Light of my life—”

“I’ll kill you.”

Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.

Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.

Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.

His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.

“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”

You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.

“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”

You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,

“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”

That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.

“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.

“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.

At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.

“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.

A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.

“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”

It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.

Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.

“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.

At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.

Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.

Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.

The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.

“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.

“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.

“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”

Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.

“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.

You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’

No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.

What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.

“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”

Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.

“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”

“I don’t fuck strangers.”

Bucky smiled at that.

“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.

Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.

“You like skylines?” he asked.

You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.

“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.

Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.

You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.

“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.

Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.

Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.

“James,” you hissed.

Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you undressing me?”

Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.

“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.

The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.

“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”

You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?

“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”

Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.

The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.

“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”

You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.

“James!”

Again with that name.

“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”

Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.

“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.

“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.

Like he’d read your mind.

In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.

“Just let it happen, honey.”

He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.

Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.

Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:

“N-no, Bucky.”

To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.

He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.

“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.

“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”

The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.

Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.

A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.

His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.

You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.

“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”

His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.

When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.

Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.

He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.

Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.

“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.

You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.

Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”

In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.

Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?

It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.

You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.

“Open the fucking door!”

He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.

Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.

One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.

You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.

Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.

You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.

“What are you doing?!” he roared.

You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.

He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.

“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”

No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.

The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.

“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:

Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!

Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.

“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.

Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.

“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.

He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.

“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”

That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.

“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”

His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.

The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.

“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.

“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.

Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.

This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.

Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

At last, the tie loosened a little.

Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.

“What?”

You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.

“You’re a virgin?”

You nodded.

“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”

“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”

He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.

“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.

As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.

You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.

You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.

Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.

He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:

“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”

Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.

“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.

“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.

For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.

While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.

How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.

Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.

Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.

Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.

Any minute now, he thought with some relief.

Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.

A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.

Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.

You barged in and froze.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.

Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.

Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.

Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.

He was only met with silence.

Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.

The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.

“James?”

Your voice almost pained.

A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”

Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.

Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.

Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.

“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”

If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.

Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.

Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.

“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.

Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.

You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.

“James.”

“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.

At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,

“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”

Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.

“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.

You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.

You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.

His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.

Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.

“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.

“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.

“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.

Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.

A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.

He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.

Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.

No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.

“Okay.”

Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.

You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.

Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.

Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.

His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?

When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.

Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.

You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.

Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.

Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.

Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.

You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.

Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.

Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.

Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.

You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.

He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.

“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”

He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.

You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.

“Keep going, I’m good.”

Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“N—”

“Don’t lie.”

You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.

“Aw hell.”

The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.

He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.

“I didn’t wanna interrup—”

“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”

Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”

Bucky eyed you incredulously.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.

You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.

“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.

“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”

It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.

The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.

When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.

“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”

He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.

When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.

The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?

Bucky paused. Swallowed.

The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.

“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.

Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.

“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.

This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.

“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.

“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.

He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.

“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.

“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.

Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.

“Doll, I’m so sorry.”

The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.

When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.

The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Stretching so nice for this cock.”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.

Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn��t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.

“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”

An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.

“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.

Your cheeks flushed.

“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”

‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.

You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”

You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.

“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”

Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.

“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”

You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.

“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.

Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.

Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.

“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.

“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.

“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”

Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.

You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.

“One more for me, honey.”

You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?

Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.

“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“Sure you can.”

Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.

His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,

“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”

With a command like that, how could you refuse?

You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.

But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.

It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.

The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.

“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.

“I love you.”

You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.

“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.

You would’ve liked to speak.

Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.

In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.

The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.

Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.

When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.

“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.

“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #mob bucky barnes #marvel smut #marvel x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mob bucky #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky barnes

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kooktrash · 5 months

Text

million dollar darling | jeon jungkook

summary: jeon jungkook is well aware of how privileged he is to have been born into the life he was given. it was glamorous and influential yet close-knit and suffocating, something he thought he wanted to escape from. a trip back home to the circle of wealth and snottiness for his best friend’s million dollar wedding has reminded him of all the reasons why he wanted to leave in the first place… and all the reasons he should stay — the main one being you, the spoiled rich girl he knew was utterly perfect for him.

➣ genre/au: jungkook x model!reader [she/her, female anatomy], old money au, smut, plot [soft on the e2l/f2l tropes]

[loosely inspired by ‘crazy rich asians’ movie/book by kevin kwan]

➣19.7k words

warnings: heavy plot. smut. model oc. jk is a wander but he’s really just a rich guy in disguise. oc and jk got heavy tension but good banter. oc is kinda snotty but not really? namjoon x oc [not y/n]. rich, old money snotty bts. sex on a yacht. teasing. foreplay. oral [f and m receiving]. jk goes to town on oc. cunnilingus. unprotected. missionary. oc on top. jk is tatted up in a polo. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk while he’s on the phone with hobi 😭. jk’s villain arc as he slowly turns back into a cocky rich boy hehe. jk gets sex flashbacks at dolce and gabbana

“Come on, it’s my wedding and I want you as my best man. Do it for your best friend.”

The sky had been clear when he landed, a bright blue cloudless sky that resembled the clarity of the sea he had left behind. The air already seemed stiffer and the bleakness of the airport brought his mood down almost immediately.

The only thing to make him somewhat happy to be home was the sight of the person in front of him, a huge grin on his face as he saw him. The man was dressed casual in a pair of sweats and a hoodie but the small details of his watch matched with the luxury car parked outside brought unwelcome attention to Jungkook when people stared.

“I was worried you bailed last minute,” Namjoon said with a grin as he pulled him into a hug, “It’s good to see you.”

“I wouldn’t,” Jungkook reached into the pocket of his oversized black hoodie and slid his face mask off, taking a cigarette and lighting it once they were outside the airport, “It’s been too long without seeing your beautiful face.”

“Yeah, don’t tell Yeonwoo, but I’d marry you if you weren’t such a man,” Namjoon joked, playfully flirting which Jungkook just laughed off.

“Too bad you’re not my type,” Jungkook patted his shoulder apologetically, “Besides, where is the bride?”

“Getting her hair done for tonight,” Namjoon said as they got into a Bentley Mulssane, “Also, please drive, I’m scared.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook scoffed, taking the keys anyway, “If you hate driving so much why buy an expensive car?”

“Yeonwoo liked the color,” Namjoon said as he got in the passenger’s seat of his own car, “Are you staying with your parents? I could still find you an apartment.”

“For a week? Don’t bother, I’m staying at a hotel,” Jungkook said, turning the engine on and driving out.

Namjoon sighed, “So you really are leaving again?”

“Was there ever a doubt I was?” Jungkook asked in surprise.

“Duh, kid. We miss you, you rarely call, you never visit, you barely respond and we know nothing that goes on with you,” Namjoon said, “I thought once you got your fill of life experiences, you’d come back.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything at that, sniffling uncomfortably as he tried switching the subject, “So, who’s my partner?”

This time Namjoon was the one to freeze up, staring out the window with sunglasses on and his jaw locked. With a shy smile, he asked, “Are you gonna bring a date?”

His brows furrowed as he looked at his friend, “Who’s the Maid of Honor?”

Namjoon released a nervous laugh, “Y/n L/n.”

The silence in the car was loud and from the way Jungkook’s jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed, it was easy to see he wasn’t happy about that. You? You were the Maid of Honor and his partner down the aisle?

“You know, her and Yeonwoo are close and Yeonwoo’s always thinking about who looks the best next to her on camera and obviously she’s gonna choose the runway model but listen,” Namjoon could barely catch a breath, “Y/n’s matured more now and she’s going to be there tonight so please be on your best behavior.”

“Tonight? What’s tonight?” Jungkook’s tone was sharper now and Namjoon huffed in annoyance.

“The rehearsal dinner on the pier, it was all in the catalog I sent you,” Namjoon said, “It’s for press. Our parents want to get it on Forbes and Vogue, they want to make it the Wedding of the Year.”

They both laughed at that and Jungkook sighed, “So there’s gonna be cameras?”

“Yeah but don’t worry they won’t focus on you,” Namjoon said with a smirk, “The attention’s going on me.”

When Jungkook pulled up to the hotel he would be staying at for the week, Namjoon left him to settle in with a promise that he would make it tonight so he had no choice not to. A letter from a close friend was sitting on the coffee table and he set his things down to get it.

It was a big envelope with a card and a few things rattling inside that made him curious. Jungkook turned the envelope down so the contents would fall onto his palm and a roll of condoms slipped out.

‘Welcome home buddy, enjoy the penthouse and may all your frustrations come undone — Jung Hoseok.’

The note itself made him scoff in disbelief. His womanizing friend making jokes before they’ve actually reunited. He left the things on the table and left to shower, doing what he could to make himself look presentable for tonight.

Tonight was the beginning of a soon-to-be hectic week of photoshoots, brunches, parties and finally the wedding. You were one of the ones front and center, never taking the limelight from the bride but carrying your own sense of grace that had people turning heads when you walked into a room—or in this case riverwalk.

You vowed to appear your best tonight and opted for a silk, powder blue Prada dress paired with Swarovski crystals on your neck. You did your part as Maid of Honor, directing all attention to your friend, polite smile and gentle assurance when needed in front of a crowd. Yeonwoo found it comical how well you fit into character when you need to.

“The perfect friend,” Yeonwoo joked as you dabbed smeared lip gloss from her lips, “What would I do without you?”

“Oh, I hope you never have to find out,” You said in a gentle voice that feigned innocence and longing. Yeonwoo laughed as she was called toward other people and you let her go as you found the nearest server holding a glass of champagne. You took a glass, turning toward the railing overlooking the shore, tipping your glass back and chugging as much of the drink as possible.

“So this is where the Maid of Honor will be spending her night?” A familiar deep voice spoke up from behind you and a mischievous smile grew on your face. You set the glass down, straightened your posture and turned to him with a soft gaze.

“Now you know that’s not fair, Joon, I’ve been with Yeonwoo most of the night,” you told him, already motioning for another server to give you a glass, completely ignoring the man standing beside him.

“I believe you, darling, now why don’t you come say hi to the Best Man,” Namjoon pushed Jungkook forward who just glared at him in response, “You remember Jeon Jungkook, right?”

“It’s been two years, not ten,” You said, finally looking at Jungkook with a glimmer of annoyance in your eyes, matched by his stare of unamusement.

“Alright well why don’t you two get reacquainted while I search for the gorgeous love of my life,” Namjoon said, making his escape as quick as possible.

“You counted?” Jungkook asked, taking just one step toward you, trying to stop his eyes from trailing down your figure.

“Of course,” You said sarcastically, “I’ve just missed you so.”

He couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes as he turned to the water, “You knew we were partners?”

“Obviously, I know everything,” you said with a scoff that had his tongue pressing against his cheek, clearly annoyed, “Like how you’re staying at one of the Jung’s hotels instead of home. How you plan on leaving still, where you landed, how long you’ve been her—“

“So you’re stalking me?” Jungkook asked, only half joking.

“Don’t you wish,” you laughed, “You’re all over the news.”

His smile dropped. When he had nothing to say, you grew bored and left him behind, making sure to lightly graze your fingers against his arm as you said, “And just remember, you’re the one who despises me, not the other way around.”

With that, you left without looking back and he was left watching the sway of your hips when you walked away.

Money rules the world, even when people want to say it doesn’t. The people who have it are living the dream and the ones who don’t, want the dream. It doesn’t even have to be the luxurious wonders of the world, it could be as little as financial stability or surviving. At the end of the day, it was a Rich Man’s world and this group of individuals were born lucky.

First, the groom: Kim Namjoon. The man with it all, the money, the family, the education, son of millionaires with three hospitals in their name and a line of pharmacies all across the globe.

The bride: soon-to-be, Kim Yeonwoo. The heiress to half a dozen airlines, an airport funded by her family for decades and a beautiful island in her name off the coast.

Kim Seokjin, practically a prince, generations worth of politicians, the highest education and a trust fund worth millions. He was the one you’ll see with the president or in Australia, golfing with men in charge.

Jung Hoseok, the hotel heir to a chain of ten thousand hotels across the globe. He was the one you’ll most likely catch partying in Venice with a princess whose name he couldn’t actually remember—or maybe giving a waitress the night of her life.

Min Yoongi, eldest son of an elite banking firm formed a hundred years ago. He was private about his life, similar to Jungkook, he only came out when he was summoned by one of the others.

Kim Taehyung was wild as Hoseok but more quiet about it. He’ll soon be heir of the billion dollar empire his family built in the Art world of museums and curations and performing arts.

Now, Jungkook’s story was a bit different from the others. His family worked in land development, most of the country being built on the backs of the Jeon’s who brought cities to rural areas and avoided the public’s eye.

They had the kind of old money that everyone knew, even when they tried to stay out of the news.

It was the kind of old money, people could never stop talking about and you understood what that meant most.

There was a mystery to the fortune of your family, it was old money, so old nobody knew where it came from. Some say oil, some claim aristocrats but it was too far back, and too private for any to know. All the public knew were the generous and loving philanthropists and their perfect daughter, the Nation’s Sweetheart, you.

You really were loved by all, the camera, the press, everyone. They all saw the kind, innocent girl in the public’s eye but only a few saw the snotty, spoiled and downright disrespectful side of you that was real.

Where Jungkook craved independence and isolation from his family name, you soaked in it. The attention. The money. The dependence, you were the complete opposite of him and it drew him insane.

One might ask why he was around you if he really did despise you, but for a long time it wasn’t up to him. The group didn’t all become friends one magical night when you compared your family’s net worth.

No, this bond had grown between galas, private academies, horse riding lessons at the country club and family businesses. It was a very elite, classist society where only the ultra rich could really only trust in each other and keep a country afloat off of it.

Do you think Namjoon would have been allowed to marry Yeonwoo if her parents weren’t as rich as they were?

Do you think Seokjin would have married his wife that he met at Oxford if her family hadn’t been international shipping magnates?

It was like a spider web, they were all connected in some way, all controlled and that’s what Jungkook hated.

He loved his friends, truly, but he hated the control. Not a single one of them had real freedom and every little thing they did came with a price and he couldn’t live that way anymore. He understood his own privilege and how lucky he was to grow up in such a way but he knew there was more to life than just that. When he left home for the first time, he didn’t expect to feel so free. It was like a sense of independence he’s not sure any of his friends have felt and now that he’s back he’s reminded once again of how suffocating it all is.

There had to be at least a hundred guests in attendance tonight and he couldn’t find a moment of silence. The suit he wore felt uncomfortable and he hated the way it seemed to confine him, make him more rigid and stiff.

“Please Jungkook, I was only being funny. Did it bother you that much?” Hoseok asked with a tinge of mischief in his voice.

“No,” Jungkook shrugged as he looked around the banquet hall, “I just found it unnecessary.”

“Really? I would’ve assumed the opposite considering you’ll be spending a lot of time with Y/n this week,” Taehyung said with a shrug as the three of them stood off to the side, talking amongst themselves as the guests of the charity banquet focused on your parents who stood on stage making some speech about the importance of giving.

As if on cue, the spotlight turned toward you where you smiled politely and acted shyly for the cameras.

A scoff left his lips as he pulled his gaze away from you, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hoseok chuckled, “Oh come on man, everyone knows you have a thing for her—you’re really bad at hiding it.”

With a roll of his eyes, Jungkook stepped away from his friends, “You guys don’t know anything.”

He didn’t have a thing for you.

Sure, you’ve known each other for a long time but that means nothing. He’s known them all for a long time and if anything he's made his distaste toward you pretty evident. When you were younger it was only because you were so spoiled and the attention had to always be on you. He hated watching everyone fall for your sweetness and do whatever you asked of them. He almost fell for it himself a couple times but then he would see the way you judged or looked down on people and he just despised you more.

There’s nothing about you that attracts him aside from your looks…

Tonight you were dressed more modestly in a Chanel sweater and skirt set that looked like you would soon be relaxing at the country club. You wore a black headband with a bow on it and satin gloves, looking as polite as ever while you talked to anyone who approached you.

You were the perfect, doting daughter and anyone with eyes could see that.

“So how mad are you?” Yeonwoo asked once you had settled back in your chair next to her and Namjoon. Even Namjoon seemed to listen in on the question, waiting to hear what you would say.

“What do I have to be mad at?” You asked with a tight smile as you reached toward her to fix a slight smudge on her cheek, “ Jungkook?”

“Well, we know you have some sort of disliking toward each other but…” Yeonwoo bit her lip nervously, “Joonie and Jungkook are really close.”

“We know you two don’t like each other but you should have expected this, right?” Namjoon chuckled nervously, “You’re both our best friends and…”

“Am I saying anything?” You asked.

They shared a look with each other, “I guess not.”

You smiled, “Okay, then let’s just make sure everything runs smoothly this week.”

You did in fact feel a type of way about Jeon Jungkook but you weren’t going to admit that right now surrounded by so many people always lingering around trying to listen. You’ve learned to be very careful about how you act in public and there’s no way your friends will get you to act out by asking about him.

Jungkook was not someone you wished to exhort so much energy on. He wasn’t worth anything to you and despite how many years you’ve known him, you’ve never wished to get to know him. You don’t care where he goes when he’s not home or who he talks to, nor what he does. He doesn’t cross your mind at all through your normal day to day and you surely weren’t going to let him in this week. All he has going for him is his money and his looks.

Ever since you learned he would be the Best Man you thought about what that would mean and accepted that he would be the one to walk with you down the aisle. Despite not being happy about it, you managed to hide your resentment quite well.

You know how he feels about you and over time that’s made you develop a disliking toward him which you find only fair. He might dislike you for being spoiled but you dislike him for being so entitled.

For some reason, he thinks distancing himself from this life means he’s better than everyone else and you hate that. He thinks that by moving away and making his own money suddenly makes him different than the rest of you but that’s not true. He just wants to act like he’s self made so he can feel superior to all of you trust fund babies and that is what annoyed you.

After some time third wheeling, you were getting tired and slightly annoyed watching the couple act lovey dovey. You hated couples, they grossed you out even if they were your best friends.

“Mind if I keep you company? You look like you need it.”

With a furrow in your brows, you turned to face the person who felt the need to whisper in your ear and get close to you without permission. A smile spread across your lips at the man standing directly behind you, his arm draping over your front and hugging you.

“Hello, darling, I’ve missed you,” Jimin’s voice was soft yet sultry and you gave each other kisses on the cheek in greeting as he moved to the empty seat beside you.

“I didn’t realize you were back,” You said to him, “How was Paris?”

He released a sigh, “Oh the usual, shopping… a few events here and there.”

“Mhm, and when’d you get back?” You asked, now intrigued by his presence.

“Just last night. I was planning on visiting you earlier but things came up,” Jimin said, adjusting the Swiss watch on his wrist, admiring the shine, “What has happened since I was gone?”

“Oh God, he’s back,” Hoseok rolled his eyes from across the room, “I ran into him in Marseille the other day and the guy wanted to act like he didn’t know me.”

“He’s been insufferable since Uni,” Taehyung muttered under his breath, “I don’t understand why Y/n puts up with him.”

“Who?” Jungkook asked, only half curious. He hadn’t been paying attention until he heard your name and his reason for hearing it was purely coincidental.

“Park Jimin,” Hoseok clarified, making Jungkook look closer at the man who sat very close to you, making you smile and touch his arms when you spoke.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Jungkook seemed indifferent as he looked down at his glass of champagne, trying to resist the urge to look back at you.

“Not at all,” Taehyung said, “He’s just some guy we went to Uni with here. I don’t know how he met Y/n though, probably at some shitty party but he’s nobody that matters.”

Well… Park Jimin was the son of starlets. His great grandmother, his grandmother was an actress, his mother was an actress and he’s been in a few independent films here and there. He spends most of his time sailing on yachts or speaking of the Cannes Film Festival. He’s insanely rich, but he’s still not rich enough despite his accumulated generational wealth.

Unlike Jungkook’s wealth which held actual value especially in real estate, Jimin’s just didn’t compare to his or any of his friends for that matter. So why did you seem captivated by him?

He is aware he shouldn’t think this way, it’s only him reverting back to his old self which was all arrogance and entitlement. He shouldn’t think about how much wealthier he was compared to Jimin.

Unfortunately, Jungkook couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from the pair as he tipped his champagne glass back, liquid pouring down his throat.

“Do you think she’ll take him to the wedding? I doubt Namjoon or Yeonwoo would ever invite him themselves,” Hoseok said and the three seemed like a group of gossips, the way they huddled around each other.

In Jungkook’s defense, he was barely listening to his friends. He was too busy watching the interaction happening not far from where he stood, eyes narrowed trying to understand what was happening.

First, he didn’t like you. He found you unbearable and you were the epitome of everything he hated about the High Society he had been raised in.

Second, he was only looking because you were next to his best friends. Maybe he wanted to see how in love Namjoon and Yeonwoo were but he couldn’t see because of you and your… friend.

Third, he wanted to know how you managed to stand out in your outfit despite the room being filled with people in extravagant clothes.

“I’m not sure, actually, rumors say she might,” Taehyung said and Jungkook couldn’t help but look over.

“What?”

“We’re just wondering if the Maid of Honor would bring her little boy toy to the wedding,” Hoseok said, looking at Jungkook as his jaw tensed, “What do you think?”

“I don’t care if Y/n brings anyone, we’re just dates for the pictures and ceremony,” Jungkook said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“So are you going to take a date too then?” Taehyung asked.

“Maybe,” Jungkook said as a server came around holding a tray of champagne glasses and he switched his empty one out for a full one. He didn’t bother to look back at his friends as he began walking away, “I’ll be back.”

“It’s so hard for him to act like he doesn’t care.”

“Kook! Come here, man,” Namjoon said with a wide grin as he saw his best friend walking by them. Jungkook didn’t bother glancing down at you as he greeted his friend.

“Kooky, I haven’t seen you all night,” Yeonwoo stood up to hug him, “Please don’t seduce my future husband, everyone has already RSVP’d.”

“Oh Yeonie,” Jungkook softly caressed her cheek, tipping her chin up to look at him, “If I wanted him, I would have had him by now.”

“Joon!” Yeonwoo whined clinging to Namjoon who just winked at Jungkook, further amplifying his fiancé’s feigned sobs. Jungkook smiled watching her squirm and without him meaning to, he let his gaze fall toward you.

“Y/n.”

You met his intense stare with your own and you could hear Jimin say he was going to get a drink but you didn’t look at him. You looked down at what Jungkook was wearing—a plain black Prada suit, how boring. “Jungkook.”

“Is that who you’re bringing to the wedding?” Jungkook asked, looking back at the infamous Park Jimin who stood with Taehyung and Hoseok, all three of them pretending to enjoy each other’s company.

“Maybe, we do get along very well,” you said with a sly smile as you stood up, not yet reaching Jungkook’s height but he didn’t intimidate you, “Is that a problem?

“No,” Jungkook said, voice low and deep, “I was just curious.”

“And why were you curious?” You asked, a mocking tone in your voice that he didn’t like, “Do tell me, how often are you curious about what I do?”

A scoff left his lips as he looked away from you first, “It was just a question, don’t get ahead of yourself and think you matter to me more than you do.”

An evident pout appeared on your lips and for a second his expression changed with worry but the moment was fleeting. You just laughed [giggled, actually] and with a gentle touch to his arm, said, “No need to lie to yourself.”

His eyes narrowed, anger bubbling up inside him when he heard a shutter of cameras going off, flash in his face and without thinking, he took your hand in his and left.

“If you plan on kidnapping me, it won’t work,” You said teasingly as you left to some dark corner behind large pillars.

“I’m not going to put up with a week of your games,” Jungkook said as he let go of your hand, missing the way your eyes fell to the black ink on his knuckles—something you had never noticed before, not even on the yacht when it was dark out.

“Then stop playing into them,” you said with a laugh, “If I drive you crazy, why bother talking to me at all? I think we’re both very capable of ignoring each other enough to not have to say a single word.”

“What I mean is, you can put on this act of yours for the cameras but don’t drag me into it,” Jungkook told you, ignoring the idea you had thrown out there. He was referring to your strange smiles and touches you give him when in the public.

“I’m not dragging you into anything,” You rolled your eyes, “And you seem to forget all eyes have been on you since you got back—heir to the Jeon Corporation. What do you think people will say when they find out you dragged me out here all alone? The Big, Bad & Rebellious Jeon Jungkook and The Nation’s Sweetheart, me.”

His eyes shut with a hint of anger that he tried to subdue, “Sweetheart?”

“That’s what I said,” you smiled sweetly to prove your point making him scoff.

“You’re not a sweetheart, you’re a spoiled brat,” Jungkook said, looking down at you in your pretty clothes with your pretty jewelry and your pretty face.

“Nice of you to finally notice,” you said bitterly and with a roll of your eyes, you pushed into his shoulder on purpose as you walked past him, “But we’re all the same, aren’t we? Just some of us like to act all high and mighty because you leave home craving independence, ignoring your privilege to seem like better people.”

Jungkook felt the jab of your words but he let you walk past him without a rebuttal.

With a sense of frustration, he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to collect himself to rejoin High Society and finish the night with his head held high.

When Jungkook left his hotel the day of the Bachelor Party, he hadn’t been sure what to expect. Hoseok had done most of the planning for it since he had been abroad and when it comes to Hobi, you never know what to expect. It was almost two days of festivities and it was only toward the end that everyone would separate into their respective groups. That meant that once again he was forced into the same place as you.

The yacht sailed toward the private island the events would be at and as big as it was, he couldn’t escape you. There were the main group of friends that were always together and a few added guests, mostly Yeonwoo’s friends. Hoseok had already been hyping up the party tonight more than anything and everytime Namjoon would grow more worried. He didn’t need a big party thrown by his notorious womanizing friend.

“So what do the girls have planned?” Jungkook asked Namjoon as they sat at a table, looking at everyone aboard. Some people wore little clothing, others casual clothes, you wore something in between. It was casual yet attractive.

“ I don’t know, something probably calmer than what Hobi’s got for us,” Namjoon said but his friend had tuned him out after the first part, “Y/n planned it all and leant us the Yacht for the guests.”

“The yacht?” Jungkook asked, looking around at the luxury super yacht.

“14.7 million dollar yacht for Y/n’s birthday last year,” Namjoon explained to Jungkook, “She wanted a Booze Cruise.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff, “So Y/n got a yacht?”

“It comes in handy, doesn’t it?” A soft voice spoke from behind him and his breath hitched. You looked over to Namjoon, “Yeonie is looking for you.”

“The wife calls,” Namjoon said with a cheesy smile as he left you two behind.

“So, are you ready to go party with Hobi tonight?” You asked with a laugh, “I heard he’s got some former Miss Universe models coming in.”

“Oh, fun,” Jungkook said, slightly sarcastic.

“Kook, you’re not old enough to not like partying with models,” You teased making him look over at you. For a moment he wondered if what you said had a double meaning considering you were a model but he didn’t want to speak up about it.

“I’m sorry, I’m not a party animal,” Jungkook said truthfully, only a hint of joking as he looked around at the packed floor, “I think even this is too much.”

“Wow, how could you be a former Socialite if you don’t like partying?” You asked, “Is it all that time in the jungle or desert you spent alone that changed you?”

Jungkook could hear the sarcasm in your tone but he knew it wasn’t in an offensive way. He had backpacked to a small village in Indonesia for a few weeks before leaving to Nevada or Dubai—and he hated that you knew it all. He enjoyed traveling alone and experiencing things alone; he doesn’t need parties with too loud of music or too many drunks. He’s like Namjoon, they want to celebrate with their small group of friends rather than a party full of strangers who don’t even know what the occasion is.

“It might’ve,” Jungkook said, clearing his throat and checked the time.

You didn’t say much else after that and he got the impression that you grew bored talking to him. He looked at you still waiting to see if you would say something else but instead, you just looked off into the distance, not bothering to hide the sudden boredom you must have felt.

He’s sure he could have found something else to say to you but it was no use when he could see you beginning to slip away when you looked down at your cellphone with a bright smile. You didn’t utter out a goodbye as you left him behind to answer your phone, “Chimmy, I’ve missed you. How’s Morocco?”

“Warm,” Jimin said, “I’ve just finished a shoot and I believe I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Oh I won’t be home, remember?” You said as the final thing Jungkook was able to hear from you before you walked away.

Jungkook couldn’t help but look after you, thinking about who might’ve called you and how things were handled and he had to be honest, he was curious. He wasn’t attracted to you but he found you attractive… He thought you were charming and charismatic but not enough for him to want you, maybe…

The two of you just seem so different. He’s seen as the Black Sheep of the group, not because he’s not wealthy or attractive but because his past decisions have apparently been awful ones.

He was never one for parties so he wasn’t wild and defiant. He did make a declaration to leave all the money behind and pursue his dreams—something rich people were not allowed to do. Especially not if you were next in line to inherit it all like Jungkook was.

You are more free than he is and yet you like being in your bubble. You like the glamor and the responsibilities because unlike him, you know how to play both sides. Do your parents care that you’re out wasted at European raves or sailing on your yacht with a foreign prince? No, why? Because you know how to act like the innocent, perfect princess you’re supposed to be.

Jungkook can’t pretend that well. He can’t hide his tattoos or piercings or signs of nonconformity.

So, yes, he finds you attractive but he can’t let himself fall for you when he thinks you’re too different from each other. It just doesn’t stop his brain from thinking about you though.

“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked Taehyung who had been sandwiched between two women he couldn’t name.

Taehyung, evidently drunk, shook his head no, “Are you ready to confess your undying love for her?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, scoffing as he said, “Fuck off.”

All Taehyung did was laugh, making the girls he had his arms around laugh too and Jungkook left feeling annoyed. He was just curious to know where you were, that’s all. Namjoon and Yeonwoo are busy making their rounds, greeting and thanking everyone on the boat and his other friends were off doing their own things. He’s already spent too much time sulking by the railing, staring down at the dark blue water that he can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t want to drink to the point that he’s drunk so really, his last hope is you.

“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked as he went to the rooftop where Hoseok was sitting in a hot tub full of strangers. Hoseok looked like such an asshole [something Jungkook had permission to say] with his designer sunglasses and Vacheron Constantin watch, just barely above the water surface.

Hoseok barely glanced his way as he said, “I don’t know, check downstairs.”

That was all Jungkook needed to know before he was heading down to find you. It took a while of asking any person he passed by, where you might be and through all this, he couldn’t remember why he was looking for you in the first place.

He had no idea where he was going, he just found himself walking down what felt like endless corridors of rooms, following the directions of whatever housekeeper he could find. The boat really was big, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that this was a simple birthday present.

“Now, who do we have here?” You looked down the empty hallway toward the man in front of you. It pained you to see just how attractive Jeon Jungkook really was.

You have to admit, he really knows how to dress for occasions. The rare times he’s photographed in some news article, he’s dressed casually, clearly trying to hide from the public eye but now that he’s back it seems his fashion has picked up. He wore a striped black flannel Dolce & Gabbana shirt tucked into cream colored slacks, and matching velvet black slippers from their newest collection.

“I’m just… wandering,” Jungkook cleared his throat, whatever excuse he had made up earlier, completely out of mind, “What happened to your dress?”

A large red stain adorned the front of your pink dress from the chest down your torso. You looked down at the stain with a roll of your eyes, “Some stupid bitch worker. She’s off the boat tomorrow.”

Jungkook widened his eyes, feeling you brush past him and down the hall, “So you’re firing someone for spilling a drink?”

“Um, this is Valento? Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a stain like this?” You asked with a slight scoff as you went to the door straight at the end, pushing your key card in to open it, “It took the dry cleaners ages last time.”

“I didn’t take you as an Outfit Repeater to be worrying about things like that,” he stopped at the door, already looking around at what was evidently the master cabin. The water out the windows was a dark, midnight blue and it reflected into the room of silver and gray. It had a walk-in closet, and king sized bed with a view of the open water and a private deck. He didn’t dare go in and put himself in personal quarters with you.

You gasped, stopping your movements of rummaging through your closet to say, “I am an environmentalist.”

He couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not and he had to fight back a grin at how un-woke you sounded considering you were ruining the planet with a private yacht of this size.

You pulled out an off-white dress, a Jaquemus piece, ‘La Robe Artichaut’, “Ugh, after this week, I am firing a lot of people.”

“What happened this time?” Jungkook asked, leaning against the doorframe watching you, waiting for you to kick him out but you just went toward the windows overlooking the dark blue ocean. As much as you claimed to not get along, you talked like old friends.

You reached your hands toward your back, attempting to undo the back of your dress on your own, “I told my assistant not to pack anything close to white and she packs this dress? I swear people can’t do anything right.”

“If people ask just say you’re supposed to match me,” Jungkook said referring to his slacks, “Yeonie won’t be mad her Maid of Honor is wearing off-white.”

“I guess,” you sighed, letting go of your dress and not bothering to look back at him as you said, “Undo the back.”

Jungkook stood silently at the door, staring at you with dark eyes. The fabric of your dress was thin and soft to the touch—he could just tell with the way your figure had so effortlessly shaped the dress. It is a real pity you had to change out of it, he’ll admit that, but now he’s been asked—no, demanded—to help you to take it off.

He has no idea why you think you could just boss him around but this seems to have always been the case. The two of you were never close in the past but the very few times you would run into each other… as much as he hated it, there was always some sort of tension there.

With your back to him, you hadn’t seen the way he silently made his way across the room, shutting the door behind him as he went right to you. You could sense his presence behind you, see his reflection in the dark window and feel his rough fingers brush against your back.

“I meant to tell you, I like your shoes,” You said casually, his fingers beginning to work the knot that tied the ribbon of your dress, “My friend wore them in Paris just a week ago.”

“Friend?” Jungkook raised a brow curiously, his eyes trained slowly on the ribbon he was ever so slowly pulling loose. His gaze shifted to your reflection in the window as he pulled a little rougher than earlier, “Is this the one you’re always running off on the phone with?”

“You mean Park Jimin?” You asked, not bothering to react at all to his roughness or his speed, “Yes, him.”

You could feel Jungkook’s deep exhale as he pulled it as loose as he could while still being appropriate, “Are you seeing him?”

A mischievous smile couldn’t help but make its way to your face as you turned to face him, holding your arms around yourself modestly, “Is that what you wanted to talk about all along? You could have asked me earlier instead of spending who knows how long looking for me.”

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself agreeing with you, and with a tense jaw he asked again, “Well, are you?”

“I’m going to get changed,” you motioned toward the door, telling him to leave, “Unless you want to help me with that too.”

A scoff left his lips as he took a step back, annoyed that you wouldn’t just answer his question and annoyed he even cared enough to ask. What did it matter to Jungkook if you took a date? He wasn’t in a relationship with you and he barely considered you a friend.

When he wasn’t here and he was traveling, he was perfectly fine not knowing a thing about you aside from whatever article or magazine you appeared in. Why now that he returns and he sees how… glamorously beautiful you are, is he curious about you?

“And just so we’re clear, no, I’m not seeing Jimin,” You told him as he walked toward the door, stopping midway to listen to you, “Because I know it would make you jealous.”

To be honest, you didn’t think he would actually be jealous, it’s just a joke. Something about you just gets under Jungkook’s skin and it wants you to push his buttons that much more. As obvious as it was that he wasn’t at all amused by your sweetness, it was your arrogant charm that seemed to get him every time.

You knew you were beautiful, you knew you had every right to be arrogant and as much as Jungkook could deny he’s attracted to you at all, it’s very noticeable. You’ve never been told no a day in your life. You’ve never been rejected either and you know Jungkook wouldn’t dare reject you if you actually went for it.

Despite how vocal he is about his distaste toward you, you can’t help but still get giddy in his presence. You just want to rile him up and know that he’s attainable to you. You’ve always had a thing for him, he was an absolute gorgeous man and he was wealthy, extremely wealthy. He was educated and had class but at the same time he was rugged and intimidating. You’ve seen the small glimpses of ink on his knuckles and you just know that under all his long sleeves, he had more to show.

Whether you felt seriously for him or if you just figured it’s a spur of the moment situation, you want him.

“Jealous?” Jungkook attempted to scoff but the word caught in his throat with some truth to it, “Why would I be jealous?”

“I don’t know,” You shrugged, sliding the strap of your down your shoulder, “Because then you would have to share my attention with someone else.”

Jungkook knows he should leave. You had asked him to leave yet you kept going back and forth, and it was stopping him from doing so.

He should go.

He needs to go before he does or say something he’ll regret.

If he caves in to your taunts then he’ll be disappointed in himself, like part of him was allowing his return to his old lifestyle of luxury and privilege.

“Y/n, you always say things you don’t know,” Jungkook asked you with a deep voice that had you smiling, practically feeling him give in. His gaze was dark and there was no hiding the growing tension, “And you must think you’re real cute trying to act out now that we’re alone.”

“No, I know I am,” you said, not backing away from the eye contact. “And you know it too.”

“I don’t,” Jungkook loomed over you, eyes tracing down the curve of your nose and to the slight part in your lips, “I think… I think you’re…”

You blinked up at him, “Well say it, or are you too busy thinking about kissing me?”

An annoyed huff left his lips as one of his hands pulled you toward him at your waist and the other tilted your chin up until his lips were grazing over yours. You reached toward him, making the first real press of your mouths together and there was no use in acting like he hadn’t been in fact thinking about kissing you.

Jungkook let his eyes fall shut as yours did and he pulled you closer into his chest with the hand on your jaw sliding down toward the curve of your neck, making sure you didn’t pull away just yet. You kept up with the pace he had set of slow yet hungry kisses, pulling on your lips or letting his tongue slide against yours tenderly.

“Well?” You gasped feeling his soft lips kiss along your jaw, his soft black hair brushing against your face, a light scent of his shampoo or cologne that left you feeling intoxicated. The hand he had on your waist tightened at your words, pulling away with a quiet grunt, he looked you in the eye.

“Don’t ask me any more questions,” Jungkook groaned, the taste of your lips still on his tongue and there was a light sheen of gloss coating his lips from yours.

It’s shameful for him to admit how easy it was for you to break him down into every other man who seems to fall at your feet when given the chance. This is exactly what he didn’t want and now he’s pulling the godforsaken stained dress he undid and watching it slip down your body, revealing your naked form to his hungry eyes.

Above your bedroom was a deck filled with people celebrating the soon-to-be newlyweds while the Best Man and Maid of Honor are in the master cabin, half undressed, and stumbling onto the bed.

Jungkook was gentle but firm, he wasted no time popping the buttons of his shirt open, exposing the toned muscles of his body and the ink covering most of his arm. Your eyes scanned the markings, surprise and wonder evident on your face with how well he managed to hide how much he’s gotten done since he left.

“Surprised?” Jungkook asked, eyes low when your hands ran over his slacks, pulling at his belt and nails lightly scratching at his abdomen. His voice dripped with arousal when you sat up from beneath him, pressing light butterfly kisses to his abs and tattoos.

“You always surprise me,” You admitted, not as teasing as before but with a hint of playfulness still there. You looked up from his chest, the height of your sitting form and his standing one looked endless as he towered over you. “For instance, I didn’t think it would be this easy to get you in my bed.”

You kissed along his neck now, sitting on your knees to reach him better and nipping at his sensitive spots. His hand tightened around the neck of your head, not pulling your hair but definitely getting your eyes on his, “Why do your words sound so dirty when you say them so… “

Jungkook couldn’t even finish his sentence before succumbing to you once more and kissing your lips. With little force applied, he was laying you back down on the bed with his tattooed and muscular body just melting into yours effortlessly. With one hand on your neck and the other sliding down to the curve of your thigh, it felt like he was all over you.

“Let’s take this off you,” Jungkook murmured between kisses down your neck as he began to finally take off the ruined dress that had been in his way since you got him to undo it in the first place, “You’ve been teasing me with this since earlier.”

“Maybe because I wanted to see you get worked up,” you sighed as you made yourself comfortable on the king side bed, your body slowly unveiled to his hungry eyes. Once he had pulled the dress off you completely and threw it to the side, sitting up between your spread legs and staring.

Jungkook didn’t bother with discreteness as he eyed down your naked body still in shock that he was seeing it before him. Your breasts were on full display and the only piece of fabric hiding you was a thin lace underwear that felt so nimble and soft under his fingertips, so easy for him to just tear off of you. You looked gorgeous laying so pliantly underneath him and he couldn’t help but let his hands slide down from your bent knees to your inner thighs.

“Did it work?” You asked just above a whisper as he hovered over you, leaving needy kisses between your breasts while he tugged at the hem of your panties until he was sliding them down your legs.

“It really fucking worked,” Jungkook groaned as he cupped your boobs in his hands, letting his tongue lick at your pert nipples and feeling the way they stiffened underneath him. Your hands went to his hair, legs nearly wrapping around his torso when you felt his teeth lightly press into your nipple, sucking and tugging when needed.

His kisses began to run down toward your navel with his hands replacing his lips and kneading your breasts in the palm of them while he moved down to lay between your legs, “I want a taste, pretty girl.”

“Then get one,” you said in a whiny tone that had his big rounded eyes turning to look at you with surprise. A knowing smirk falling on his lips as he lifted your knees and pulled your thighs apart as far as they could go until he was eye level with your pretty cunt. Jungkook was never one to stop and tease when he needed sex, he had a tendency to get a little rough and take what he wants but it’s so hard to move it along when he’s met with the sight of you laying so pretty for him. He could tell your patience was running thin with how long he was taking to do anything and just before he felt you close to snapping at him, he leaned into you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped in surprise with the sudden swipe at your clit by Jungkook’a flattened, long tongue and you’ll admit it caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You couldn’t see the way he smiled as his hands circled around your thighs, repeating his teasing flick of his tongue, feeling the way your folds began to react to him.

He felt your fingers run through his soft hair for anchor and for some reason that slight grip you had on him had his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let himself get lost in the taste of your pussy. No longer up for any sense of teasing, Jungkook lets his mouth fall open, kissing your wet heat with his tongue pressing between your folds and finding your clit. Your hips were slowly bucking into his face, showing him just how much you liked his tongue and he knew just what to do to have you coming undone underneath him.

He sucked your clit into his mouth, his lips wrapped around the hard bud while his tongue swiped against the tip of it. He began a repetition of that and grazing his teeth ever so softly against your sensitive folds knowing he found your weak spot when he sucked your labia into his mouth and had your soft moans filling the cabin.

“Jungkook,” you moaned softly, fingers tugging at his hair roughly, “Oh god.”

He didn’t dare pull his mouth off you to give you a response and instead let his actions grow rougher. He unwrapped a hand from around your thigh and slipped it down to your pussy where he let his finger begin to draw patterns into your labia, so close to your entrance that he could feel your arousal quite literally leak out of you.

Your body was filled by pleasure that Jungkook was bringing you and you couldn’t help but bring your free hand to your neglected chest, trying to fill the void that Jungkook’s hand had left as you groped your breasts. Jungkook looked up completely enamored with the way you played with yourself while he ate you out and without any second thoughts, he pressed his long middle finger into your waiting cunt.

“That’s it,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss along your pelvis, “Cum for me, darling.”

“Jungkook,” you whined as he pushed a second finger in, hooking them upwardward just past your pubic bone and finding that soft, spongy spot with ease. With the way your walls fluttered around his fingers, he knew you were close and all it took was his lips around your clit while thrusting into that pleasure spot of yours, for you to wrap your legs around his shoulders and shake with release, “Oh my god.”

“Mm,” Jungkook groaned with pleasure, feeling your arousal flood his fingers in your release. He looked down at his wet hand, bringing it to his lips where he licked off the release that threatened to drip down his forearm, “Sweet.”

You looked like a mess trying to catch your breath and come to understand what had just happened between you to think too long about the fact that he was pressing his fingers into your waiting mouth till you licked your own release off him. He lifted a brow as your tongue circled around his fingers while sucking on them with your cheeks hollowed in. It had his breath hitching, trying to pull his fingers back out before he came just from that and began to pull at his own pants.

“Condom?” He asked in an unusually low and raspy tone. You blinked, “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”

He didn’t press for more as he kicked his slacks and briefs off, hard cock pointed up stiffly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You wanted to wrap your lips around him and take him deep in your mouth because his dick was surprisingly so fucking pretty you just needed it desperately.

With your mind decided, you attempted to sit up when he pushed you back down, cock in his hand as he gave himself a couple strokes to relieve some tension and pulled your legs apart, “I need you now.”

“Impatient, are we?” You asked with a laugh, making yourself relax when you felt his cock head brush against your exposed clit. Jungkook wasn’t paying attention to what you said as much as he was to the way his mushroom tip fit perfectly between your folds.

A soft gasp left your lips as he pushed it against your clit, playing with your labia and letting the clear liquid that dripped out of his tip, coat your clit.

“Fuck,” Jungkook took a deep breath as his cock nearly slipped inside of you, playing with your earlier release to cover his length in it, “Such a pretty pussy.”

With an annoyed roll of your eyes, you grew tired of his teasing and with a quick hook of your leg around his slim waist, you pushed his cock into you eliciting a deep groan [almost growl] to slip from his lips, “Fucking hell, Y/n.”

“You were taking too long,” you moaned, legs falling back again as you tried to ease the slight pain that came from his thick member entering your tight walls. Jungkook’s hair was brushing against your face as he looked down at the way you took him in, “I was trying to be gentle.”

“Did I ask you to be?” You asked with a scoff. Jungkook rolled his eyes, spreading his legs further apart and digging his knees into the bed for support as he covered you with his body, laying down to plant a quick kiss to your lips. “Brat.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” your manicured nails traced down his back until your hands were under his thighs as if ready to make him move on your own, “Are you going to fuck me yet?”

He couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief, an amused smile on his face and without saying a word, he pulled out until on his tip was past your ring of nerves, and suddenly pushed back in. Your lips fell open in a silent gasp as your eyes locked with his and he smirked.

“You need it that bad?” Jungkook asked as he pulled your legs up, pressing them toward your chest and holding them down with his arms as he kissed your neck, dragging his cock back out, “How bad?”

“Jungkook,” you groaned, trying to move your hips but in this position it was useless, “Start moving.”

“Make me,” he kissed the tip of your nose, slowly sliding himself back in just a little. You rolled your eyes, moving your hand to hide your face as you felt yourself getting annoyed.

Jungkook was smiling like this was all just so amusing to him and with his lip pulled between his teeth, he thrusted in with little restraint, starting a slow yet steady rhythm, “Don’t hide your face, darling. I wanna see the Y/n L/n moaning for me.”

“Fuck you,” you shook your head feeling your pussy tighten around him with your legs pulled to your chest unable to escape his thrusts that were becoming more rough by the second.

“Come on darling, you can do it,” Jungkook groaned, feeling like he was on cloud 9 from the way your pussy took him in. He doesn’t know how to explain it but he felt really fucking good right now. He’s not sure if it’s that he hasn’t had sex in a while, or if it had something to do with the fact that it was you, but he was fucking you with all his energy, letting himself relax and just feel good in the moment.

“Jungkook,” you moaned his name, hand slipping from your face so you could wrap it around his neck, “Kiss me.”

“Kiss?” He asked, out of breath as his rhythm faltered and without thinking, he let go of your legs and let them fall back onto the bed as he tilted your chin up with a hand to kiss you. He set his other hand down on the bed for support, getting lost between your lips and your tight pussy.

Jungkook’s tongue licked against yours swallowing your moans, “Y/n, it’s s’good.”

“Mhm,” you circled your legs around him, “Fuck.”

Jungkook kissed down your neck, hands sneaking down to your waist and with one swift movement, rolled onto his back with you on top. He needed a change of pace because if he kept going, he would cum sooner than he wanted to and he needed you to cum one more time for him so if that meant letting you get in top, he would.

And it had been such a good idea because the sight of you sitting on his cock, leaning back and placing your hands on his thighs instead of chest, made him more excited. Your knees dug into the bed and with your fingers scratching at his muscular thighs and raised your hips, lifting yourself off his cock before plunging him back in.

“Fucking hell,” Jungkook groaned throwing his head back into the pillows, a hand on your hip but not daring to take control, “That’s it darling, fuck yourself on my cock.”

“Jungkook,” the new position was having him reach newer parts inside you that had your thighs shaking, “I’m so close.”

“Take it,” Jungkook growled, holding you in place as he dug his feet into the mattress and began to fuck up into you, “Take my fucking dick, fuck.”

“Oh my god,” you fell forward, hands scratching at his chest, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, “I—I can’t. Jungkook, baby, oh my—“

“Take it,” he groaned, grabbing your hips harshly and moving once again so he was on top, thrusting into you despite how hard it was getting to pull out of your tight walls, “Take it.”

“I—I,” your lips fell open in a loud cry, pinching his biceps for stability, and felt your walls come undone. For the second time in less than hour, your orgasm hit you hard. Jungkook released a string of grunts, feeling your pussy convulse around him and his cock was greeted with a flood of warmth that had his legs shaking, trying to support him but he couldn’t take it. He barely had time to slip out before he was letting go, his cum dribbling down to your thighs as he let out one final moan of your name.

His body seemed to collapse down next to yours, panting and out of breath, “Fuck.”

The two of you were a mess, sweaty and sore and all you wanted to do was lay down and possibly sleep but where you were did not go past you unnoticed. You searched around for your cellphone, knowing you set it down somewhere before trying to change and found it on your nightstand with six missed calls from the Bride-To-Be.

Jungkook took a deep breath, sitting up and looking down at the mess the two of you made on the bed. He got up, not bothering with covering himself up as he found a towel and tried cleaning himself off with it while you got on your phone.

“Duty calls,” you joked with a sigh as he came to your side and began to wipe down your thighs. Yeonwoo sent you a dozen messages talking about a midlife crisis of some sorts. You sat up carefully, thanking him for handing you your robe and you slipped it on.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked with an awkward clear of his throat as he began putting on his clothes again. He’ll admit he was taking his time getting dressed and you left to the bathroom to freshen up.

“I don’t know, something with the gift boxes for everyone. I think Yeonie’s assistant forgot them,” you told him as you found new underwear to wear, making sure you were cleaned before putting them on. You left the door to the bathroom open to talk to him but you still changed into the white Jacquemus dress from earlier.

You walked up to him and he got the memo about zipping your back up and this time he couldn’t help but lean down to press a kiss to your shoulder blade, “Are you going up yet?”

“I’m gonna touch up my makeup first,” you told him honestly, “You go ahead.”

When Jungkook reached upstairs again, finding the party just as he left it earlier, it’s like nobody noticed he had even left for so long. They were all too focused on your new dress — which Yeonwoo absolutely adored on you. He found a glass of champagne and tried to escape from the swarm of people trying to hold a conversation with him when he wasn’t thinking clearly at all.

Unfortunately for the two of you, the matching off-white shade of your clothing and the sudden mark on his neck wasn’t lost on anyone else. Soon, pictures from every angle possible would paint a story neither of you wanted.

There was a sense of guilt that came with disassociating yourself from your best friend’s wedding plans. Jungkook could barely remember what they had done once they got to the island after a surprising night of visiting your cabin.

He hasn’t had an actual conversation with you since that night and he has to be honest and say, he barely remembers the actual wedding. He hadn’t seen you since the yacht before being dragged away by Hoseok the following day to do some activities for Namjoon’s groomsmen. You had gone to do your Maid of Honor duties and he’s felt out-of-loop since.

The entire day had been packed with things to do and he’s aware he looked dashing in every photo the photographers took of him in his 12,000$ Kiton suit. The matching suits they all wore made the groomsmen look classy and cohesive while the Balmain dresses the bridesmaids wore made them elegant and surreal—well at least for you.

That’s what he thinks is the problem.

His best friends got married and yet all he was able to think about was you. It didn’t help that despite the wedding being on a private island, there was still press everywhere, capturing every angle of this beautiful matrimony between nepo babies.

The reception had been filled with various questions from various interviewers that left all your shared friends staring at you suspiciously—especially when questions of the hickey on his neck came forward.

As awful as it sounded considering the 46 million dollar wedding in the mountains of an island was stunning, he could barely remember half of what hadn’t been photographed. He left the day after the wedding with an excuse that he had things to take care of where he’s currently at and his friends bid him farewell.

He got to the mainland a day before the others and it gave him time to return home before he left on another voyage alone.

“How was the wedding?” His older brother asked, swinging his mallet just slightly, trying to find his nail before shooting the ball through the hoop, “I can't believe I was caught up in meetings all week in Tokyo.”

Jungkook looked oddly bright today compared to how he felt and he didn’t want to say it was because his casual and boring clothes he wore abroad stuck out here in ways he didn’t like. That’s why today—his last day home—he visited his family’s 150 acre estate for a game of Croquet and possibly tennis, wearing a matcha colored Loro Piana cashmere polo with short sleeves.

“Um, it was great,” Jungkook said as he brought his cigarette to his lips and lighting the end before inhaling.

“That’s it?” JungHyun asked with a scoff as he motioned for Jungkook to take his turn and he took his brother’s cigarette, “Did you have an orgy with any models or were you your usual gentleman self that won the crowd against me?”

His older brother had been well known in his younger days for many reasons, his partying, his charm, his youth and education. When he was in his mid twenties, you could always catch him in some article their parents tried taking down in regards to driving under the influence or insulting a server. Unlike Jungkook who preferred a quiet life he could escape to, his brother did not and now he’s some big shot finance guy because his attitude growing up had ruined his chance of inheriting everything from their grandparents. Now it will all go to Jungkook—something they’re all aware of—and maybe that’s why JungHyun makes snide remarks here and there.

He’s not asking about the wedding because he’s curious, he’s bitter that despite his perfect appearance and Jungkook’s more intimidating kind, Jungkook was still the most well-mannered of the two and therefore the favorite—if only he stayed and fulfilled his duties.

“No orgy,” Jungkook said with a hint of disgust as he finished his round of the game, one step closer to winning, “Just Y/n.”

JungHyun had been mid-swing when he mentioned you and his aim went astray making him miss the next ring, “What do you mean just Y/n?”

“I slept with her—“

A loud and annoying laugh cut him off as JungHyun let his mallet go, “Ah, so you can’t remember the events of your best friend’s wedding because you were too busy sleeping with the nation’s sweetheart? Oh I cannot wait till father hears about this, maybe your wedding is next and then you’ll finally step up to the plate.”

Jungkook scoffed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means now that you’re back, and dating the richest girl in the country, there’s no way Father won’t hand you down the company now,” JungHyun said bitterly, “And everyone said you running away would be a bad thing, but clearly it’s reminded you of who you are.”

“I’m not… I’m not staying,” Jungkook said, “I leave tomorrow but I wanted to see you all. And Y/n and I aren’t going to date, it was a… um.”

“Mistake?” JungHyun asked, “Jungkook, don’t be an idiot. You’ve been obsessed with her for years.”

“I have not.”

“You have, you just don’t want to admit that all your talk about being independent and leaving the money behind to be free was complete bullshit,” JungHyun said with a scoff, “Or why would you mess around with her of all people. A relationship with Y/n is going to put you at the top once again and there’s nothing that won’t be handed to you—and she’s someone mother would approve.”

“You’re dramatic,” Jungkook huffed, “One night doesn’t mean we’re dating or getting married or any of that other shit. I still don’t want to run the business… I just want, I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you never know what you want,” JungHyun said, “But whatever, if you’re set on running away again, so be it. I’m tired of trying to make you see how you blindly follow along with everything you seem to hate.”

“Master, your wife is on line three and she’s wondering who is picking up the kids.”

“Fuck, I don’t know,” JungHyun groaned, annoyed and no longer interested in talking to his little brother, “The driver?”

Jungkook watched his brother leave him behind and with a defeated sigh, he left.

“So are you leaving?” Youngi asked him as he watched the bubbles in his pink champagne, “Or have you changed your mind?”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” Jungkook said stiffly as he fixed the suit jacket he was currently getting fit into, “I’m just postponing my leave but I have a few things to take care of here.”

“Like with you and Y/n?” Youngi asked, making sure the fitting room at Dolce & Gabbana was empty aside from just them two. Jungkook didn’t even flinch at the mention of you. Since the two arrived at this store his vision has been filled with large framed photos of you and your dear friend Park Jimin all over the store. Apparently you were one of the brand’s favorite Ambassadors and they made it known you modeled their products. Right now he’s facing the mirror with a picture of you modeling a satin baldonétte bra and high waisted panties. You looked beautiful and seductive and its been hard for him to not just stare at all your pictures since he got here. Now Yoongi is attempting to bring you up and he refuses to give in to the extent his relationship with you has gone.

You haven’t even spoken since the wedding and even that had just been an exchange of pleasantries and no real depth to either of your words.

“No, with my father,” Jungkook said stiffly as he shrugged off the suit jacket and called in the stylist to find something else. Yoongi sat up in his seat slightly more interested, “Really? About what? Don’t tell me you're back in the running.”

“We're going to discuss it,” Jungkook mumbled to himself.

He wanted to make one thing clear, his decision to seek out his father and work out some sort of plan where he can get back into the job he had been assigned to do, while also having freedom had absolutely nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re here, and he’s interested in you, and that it would be his parent’s dream for him to stay and be in a relationship with you and also take over the business finally…

This was his decision because his brother’s right. He can't just keep running away.

“And what do you mean, with Y/n?” Jungkook asked, clearing his throat awkwardly as he glanced up at your five foot photo framed above the mirror, remembering the shape of your body against his, moaning his name and tightening your walls around him.

“Haven’t you heard the rumors?” Youngi asked as he got on his phone, “It seems as though you have competition.”

Jungkook didn’t need to be told more as he took Yoongi’s phone from his outstretched hand and read what was on the screen with furrowed brows.

At the end of the article, in big, fat letters, the conclusion said: ‘Now the question is, will L/n choose the best friend, Park Jimin, or the elegant and influential Best Man, Jeon Jungkook—possibly as the country’s newest IT couple?’

When he gave Yoongi his phone back, there was no denying the sudden irritation that contorted his features. It’s not like he expected this to not happen but… he doesn’t like what they’re implying. Yoongi studied him closely to see if he would get a response, but Jungkook gave nothing away. Instead he just ordered the tailor to pack the two suits he tried on so he could buy both, “I’ll meet you out there.”

Yoongi left Jungkook to get changed and while he stood alone in the fitting room staring up at your boudoir photos framed around him, he took his phone and dialed your number.

“Hello?” Your end of the call sounded hectic, louder and busier than his did. You were in the middle of an interview for Vogue and were taking a short break. It seemed like he called at just the right time since you were getting your makeup touched up.

“Are you busy?” Jungkook asked with a sharp tone that fell on deaf ears when the call went silent for a moment. He really did admire the photo of you, remembering just what it was like to trace his hands along your figure.

“Who is this?” You finally asked, making his jaw clench slightly.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh you see, I wouldn’t have known that considering you didn’t even say a hello or anything,” You told him in a sarcastic tone that made him want to smile but also roll his eyes, “Besides, I am busy.”

As if on cue, the call of your name in the background made your claim concrete. He bit his lip in thought, wondering what it was you were doing and how long it would take, “When can I see you?”

A smile played on your lips as you held up a finger to your assistant who was trying to hurry you along, “Did you make an appointment with my assistant?”

He couldn’t help but scoff as his gaze turned toward a glare, practically imagining that picture of you smiling at him, “I didn’t know I needed one, darling. When can I schedule one?”

“I’m not sure, i'll let you know,” you said and before Jungkook could respond, the call ended and he was left in shock that you just hung up on him. He gathered his things and met Yoongi outside to pay, completely bewildered by the fact that you just hung up on him so easily. He knows you haven’t spoken since the night of the wedding where you were forced to speak but this is all he gets?

“What took you so long?” Yoongi asked as they left Dolce & Gabbana with new things.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: Appointment scheduled for, 6:30 pm today, L/n Residence @ the Northbrook Estates

Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief at the confirmation of an appointed meeting with you tonight.

The night on the yacht had been unexpected yet also long-awaited and now that its done with, neither of you seemed to know what to do about it. You wont lie and say you didn’t enjoy that moment with him but you were also realistic. You and Jungkook would just never work out, you’re too different on the outside and that’s why you’re so confused now as to why he called you.

“So, Y/n, its been a busy season for you this year,” an interviewer said as the camera zoomed in on your expression as they continued, “Not only did you walk thirteen shows but I hear you also celebrated your close friends wedding. How was that? You must have been exhausted.”

“You know it was a lot but it was exciting, I hold my friends dearly and I’m just thankful I was able to make time for such an event,” you said and you’ll admit your response sounded scripted. You didn’t dive too deeply which is what you’re sure the interviewer wanted. You should have known that this stupid interview wouldn’t just be about your newly established modeling career.

Whether you’ve become Model of the Year for your catwalk, or for nepotism, you didn’t are much either way. All you cared about was the fact that the interviewer has found a way to slip in questions they didn’t need to know. It’s like you can just sense the things they’ll ask and have already prepared and calculated the exact responses you need to give.

“Of course, and what a star-studded party,” the interviewer continued, “The Best Man being Jeon Jungkook must have been exciting for you.”

“Well, we’ve all known each other for a long time now so…” You cleared your throat, looking a bit disinterested.

“Yes, of course,” the interviewer said with a nervous laugh, “And pardon me, Y/n, but I just have to ask, did anything happen between the two of you on this very intimate trip?”

Your smile strained but you never looked anything less than sweet as you said, “We are all just very close friends. Most of them have supported me in modeling.”

It was a clear attempt on your part to direct the conversation back to what it was supposed to be about. She ignored your last comment and said, “So… I guess we’re all curious, some pictures from the parties were released of the two of you awfully close in certain open waters, and an evident hickey on his neck—not to mention the matching clothes, please, is there something between you and the heir of Jeon Corporation?”

“Nothing that should concern you, no,” you smiled sweetly and the interviewer seemed to freeze up, unsure if she had gone too far in her questions.

Silence filled the space around them and there was no way to cut these parts out since it was a video shoot and after a while of the interviewer struggling to find which questions to ask, a person who worked for you stepped forward, “How about another short break?”

The interviewer released a shaky breath while the both of you made your way off camera and your glam team was quick to touch up your hair and makeup as the director of the shoot approached you, “Y/n darling, how are we feeling?”

“Annoyed,” you answered honestly, “I thought this was supposed to be about my modeling.”

“You’re absolutely right, darling, we apologize for any mistake we’ve done on our part, I—She must have taken it as an opportunity to ask her own questions and I promise you, we will have a deep conversation about this. We aren’t TMZ…” the director said and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m done filming if she’ll be the one continuing the interview,” You told him as you began to walk away from him, not caring for the excuses or whatever and you can hear your publicist repeat your words to him.

It wasn’t even that she was bad at her job or that she asked anything too deep but she just quickly got on your bad side with her persistence to not let the subject drop.

In the end you got your wish and filming ended smoothly before you were driven away to whatever was next in your schedule, trying not to think about the interview or the fact that there was a chance you would be seeing Jungkook later.

Things are evidently strange between you two and its not like you’ve been blind to the articles or posts about you but you don’t want to address anything. That night on the yacht seems like a fluke and like it shouldn’t have happened at all despite how you felt in the moment. Your parents aren’t the type to be invested in what is put in the tabloids but when their lifelong, country club going, friends call them and ask if there’s anything between you and Jeon Corporation’s Jungkook, they’re going to want answers.

It was just one night, one night where the two of you put aside whatever indifference you had toward each other just so you could release tension and this is the consequence for that. Of course everyone would want to know and of course no one was able to turn a blind eye to you. Even Yeonwoo managed to ask what you had been doing in the cabins withJungkook or so long that night and even when you tried to ignore her she kept pressing you for an answer.

In truth you had nothing to say. You were both adults and it didn’t matter if anyone else was dying to know if there was anything going on between you.

You resented each other.

You had sex.

Plus, he’s going to leave soon and you don’t think that bothers you?

When your driver pulled up to the tall skyscraper you called home, you headed inside alone.

“Good evening, Miss L/n,” the lobbyist held the door open for you, “You have a visitor waiting in the lobby.”

Your brows furrowed, checking the time before heading to the library where sure enough, Jeon Jungkook was sitting by the fireplace reading whatever magazine was set out for him. At the sound of your Miu Miu kitten heels, he turned staring at you with his big rounded eyes being the only thing you could see beside his face mask, “You’re early.”

Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist as he pressed his lips to your cheek in greeting and you did the same, he joined you in the elevator and said, “I like to get to my appointments early.”

“You’re lucky my shoot ended early or else you might have had to wait outside like a dog,” you teased as you pushed the button for the top floor where your penthouse was located. As part of the infinite amount of wealth your family has, you also dabble in real estate, mostly in the country as luxury apartments but you do have some homes overseas: Paris, New York, Argentina, etc.

The place you call home is a top floor penthouse with terrace and rooftop. The floor in which it was located was completely shut off for just you and included a private gym, yoga studio, three walk-in closets, and on top of that an elevator parking garage with a Mary Kay Pink Rolls Royce sitting pretty inside it.

Jungkook has never stepped foot in your home before and it was overwhelmingly stunning with four bedrooms, two living rooms (one on the top floor and one on the main floor too), an open kitchen, poolside terrace, and five bathrooms. You lived in ultimate modern luxury with traditional themes throughout the home like its hand carved wooden furniture and expensive marble walls.

“Is this different from your little magic treehouse in the woods you ran off to?” You asked, tempted to push his buttons as you removed your coat and handed it to your housekeeper who waited at the door.

“Well, considering my magic treehouse is worth 2.6 million dollars, no I wouldn’t consider this that different from it,” Jungkook couldn’t help but boast, feeling like he’s competing. It’s like when he was in school and the students would brag about whatever exotic trip they got to go in the summer and he would have to make sure to tell them what he did was better. “Maybe I’ll bring you with someday.”

Fuck. Why did he say that? Why is he indulging in any of this in the first place? You and Jungkook should never be together, right?

“Speaking of which, I thought you would have ran off now that the wedding is over,” You said as you mumbled something to the housekeeper making her leave, “Drink?”

“Water is fine,” Jungkook said as he made his way down to your 70’s inspired talking pit of suede Anabei sectional couches, “And I thought I would have been gone by now too”

“What changed?” You skied curiously, “Don’t tell me it's because you would miss me.”

You held your hand to your chest as if to seem touched by the thought and Jungkook just rolled his eyes as you continued, “How would all the other girls feel knowing I’m keeping you here?”

Jungkook scoffed as he practically pushed your legs off his lap, “Can you not joke for just one second?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even if part of you felt confused wondering if this was supposed to be a serious moment or not. Jungkook huffed, running his fingers through his black hair, “I’m here because I wanted to talk to you about all those articles. My parents are working on taking those down, are you okay?”

Your eyebrows knitted together with confusion, “Me? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I’ve never seen anything bad written about you and suddenly you’re being painted as a two-timer by spending a night with me while also… doing whatever it is you do with that friend of yours.” He was not jealous. He swears.

To be clear, there really is nothing going on with you and Jimin. You’re just two friends in the modeling world who happen to like attending secret parties together and maybe making out drunkenly every now and then. That’s it. You’ve never slept with him and Jimin has too many girls on his line for you to ever consider him.

“I’ll survive,” You mumbled as you looked over at him, seeing him in deep thought.

“I’m thinking of staying a while longer,” Jungkook said suddenly with a clear of his throat.

Jungkook was not the shy type and to be honest he’s not even sure why he’s letting you know [as if it made a difference] but the words just slipped out.

He did not like you.

Well, he didn’t like you like that. It sounds harsh he’s well aware of that but he was never romantically attracted to you before so how is he going to suddenly feel that way after only a week in contact again. Maybe it was just unresolved sexual tension after years of feeling that way but that can’t be the only thing that’s making him want to revert back to what his life was like before he left to live on his own.

He escaped all this so that he could live somewhere quietly and do what he really wanted to do without worrying about anything else. Now he’s contemplating moving back and possibly involving himself with his father’s business again. Too much is going on for him to understand why.

“For how long?” you asked as your fingers began to softly run through the ends of his hair making him look at you. You couldn’t hide your curiosity and how close the two of you are.

When he had pulled you down to sit with him, it was with your legs thrown over his lap which he had been caressing every now and then.

An arrogant smirk formed on his lips as he licked them, tapping your calf lightly, “How long do you want me here?”

Fuck, Jungkook is staying to get back in business… not for you.

It’s not for you.

It’s not for yo—

His breath hitched as a sudden weight shifted to his lap, his hands immediately went to your waist, helping you get comfortable on him. It’s embarrassing the way Jungkook didn’t hesitate to reach for you when you sat on his lap feeling your arms thrown around his neck, “Here as in…”

You looked down at the short skirt you wore which rolled up a little from how your legs straddled his thighs and said, “Under me?”

A scoff in disbelief left his lips as he couldn’t help but laugh, sliding your hips closer, “Yeah.”

It was attractive the way your conversations never seemed to fall unless you wanted them to. It was a constant cat and mouse game, banter back and forth and he catches on quickly.

You couldn’t help it, okay. Anytime you would see pictures of Jungkook since he left, he was always in a hoodie and sweats or something that just hid his entire body. Right now he’s wearing this Christian Dior white button-up shirt [which he rolled the sleeves up at some point since he got here] and it was messily untucking from his black slacks and he looks so hot right now. His hair was messy in a sexy way and he looked just like he used to, except this time with tattoos and a different sense of maturity.

Without wasting another moment debating if you should or shouldn’t, you leaned down and kissed him. Jungkook’s lips parted against yours, stretching his neck to kiss you with more need. Unlike the first night you kissed, this one wasn’t as rushed and angry. He took his time longer, pulling your bottom lip between his and doing it over again.

You pressed your chest against his, with your tongue swiping against his lip teasingly until you met his. Jungkook’s hands pinched the satin fabric of your skirt, feeling it tighten and rise, unable to stop the growing desire he was feeling for you. His briefs were getting tighter every time you shifted on his lap and whatever he had been thinking before you started making out.

“You want to play?” He asked, shifting his head to deepen the kiss without bumping noses. You pulled away feeling desperate to catch your breath as his kisses began to travel down toward your exposed neck, licking and nipping under your jaw while beginning to make

“Maybe,” you sighed in pleasure, running your hands through his hair when you felt him kiss down your collarbone, closer and closer down the deep-v in your Miu Miu chiffon top. The strap to your shirt slipped down your shoulder as Jungkook’s rough fingers traced down the side of your arms.

You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to go back to kiss your lips as you felt his growing erection press into you. It was hard for him to ignore the fact that the only thing covering what was under your skirt was a flimsy, thin piece of lace he shifted you closer until his bulge was tucked between your legs, placing your hips right over where he wanted them to be. Now that he moved you, his outline was more evident and had you grinding along him.

Jungkook released a groan with a sharp breath once he felt that sudden move and he couldn’t help but buck his hips against you, feeling the fabric of his briefs constrict his hardened cock. It was a frustrating feeling yet he felt so eager with his tongue down your throat and his covered dick tucked nicely between your covered folds that he couldn’t even think to stop and remove the layers.

His lips were feeling swollen against yours yet he didn’t want to pull away, the friction he was getting from the way you humped him was turning him on with how needy it felt. You kissed along his jaw, grinding against his aching dick while your nimble fingers began to unbutton his shirt.

“God damn,” Jungkook groaned as he threw his head back, relishing in the way your hips moved expertly against him while kissing down his naked chest. He slid his ass down your back, stopping over your butt and pulling your skirt out of the way for him to get a better feel of you underneath. With firm hands, he turned your sensual grinding into harsher and more deep movements that he met with his hips.

He’s not sure he could take just this any longer. Anytime he’s with you now it’s like he can’t do anything but fall for you and despite how annoying it is, he doesn’t do anything to stop it. Instead, he welcomes it and right now all he wants to do and rip off the remaining layers between you so he could have your legs wrapped around him once more. It’s only been days since the first time and he has not been able to stop thinking about it.

The day of the wedding he had been so distracted by you that he barely remembers any of it and now his best friends are on their honeymoon and he’s here thinking about you again.

Giving up on arguing how much he wants to have you, he wanted to get your clothes off and you were letting him. His hands had barely made it to the end of your top, ready to pull it off, when a loud ringtone cut through the living room, echoing off the walls and hard to ignore. The two of you looked at each other confused.

He sat up, reaching his hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone, annoyed that someone had thought to call him.

“Answer,” you said breathlessly as you looked at the caller, already sliding yourself off his lap.

“It’s just Hobi,” Jungkook said, letting out a huff in annoyance as he set his phone back down, turning to kiss you but it rang once again. Your eyes met his and he begrudgingly grabbed his phone and swiped to answer, “Hello?”

“Hey man, I just got off the phone with your Yoongi,” Hoseok said as he sat in a large closet filled with designer clothes, “And why am I always the last to know if you’re leaving or not?”

“What?” Jungkook looked visibly annoyed with his scrunched brows and tense jaw and for some reason that made him hotter to you. His shirt was undone completely and his belt was halfway pulled off and with his legs spread, it was very hard to ignore his hard on.

Your eyes softened with curiosity and you couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as you decided to just go for it. First, your hand rested on his thigh as he listened to whatever Hoseok said, but slowly you made your way toward his bulge.

“You’re gonna start working with your dad again?” Hoseok asked, unaware of the way Jungkook’s attention had drifted down to the palm of your hand, right over his dick. Your fingers pressed against the underside of his member, massaging your palm into it and feeling the way his hips raised. “What happened to not caring about the money and the company and all that blah blah blah?”

Jungkook couldn’t help but roll his eyes, snapping back to his friend instead of what was going on. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, tightening their grip as if in warning. It was a useless attempt considering he tried helping you pull his belt off and saying, “Come on man, it was never like that.”

He could hear his own tone falter somewhere between lying and having his cock free from the confines of his tight briefs with your hand feeling him.

Hoseok laughed, debating what suit he should wear, “No, it’s exactly like that.”

Jungkook’s hand went to your head, softly caressing you as you kissed down his navel, your hand wet with spit, jerking him off while licking just above his dick. He didn’t bother with a response to his friend as he continued speaking anyway, “Is it true you and our princess are messing around? It’s all over the tabloids.”

Sarcasm was evident in Hoseok’s tone but Jungkook was too focused on your tongue licking up the length of his hard cock, wetting it with spit that made your hand movements smoother.

“Look I get it, you’ve had all this tension something was bound to happen but damn, why didn’t you tell me that either?” Hoseok asked with evident shock, unaware of the blowjob his friend was receiving on the other end. Your lips were wrapped tightly around his length and with your hand too, it was hard for Jungkook to keep his reactions to a minimum.

“Hobi, I—I, yknow I just,” Jungkook cleared his throat uncomfortably to hide an evident groan. He was beginning to fidget under your ministrations, especially when you squeezed under his cock, massaging his balls, “Sorry.”

“Sorry?! That’s all you gotta say after chewing me out for giving you condoms as a joke.” Hoseok was lying in a pile of Louis Vuitton suits on the floor, engrossed in his one-sided conversation, “Our friendship seems one-sided buddy. I thought when you came up to me… I thought, ‘Hey, maybe my good buddy Jungkook will get in this dandy hot tub with me’ but no, you know what you do instead? You ask where Y/n is! God I should’ve known—“

Jungkook threw his head back in a mixture of pleasure and obvious irritation that he couldn’t take it anymore. His finger pressed into the red button and the call was cut to end suddenly. As soon as his phone hit the couch, you pulled off his length with a deep huff for air, “That wasn’t very nice of you.”

“He’ll get over it,” Jungkook mumbled as he reached for your hand to pull you toward him, “Come here.”

“I’m not done,” you leaned away from the kiss he was trying to give you but his hand held your head in place, not caring to kiss the lips that had just been around his hard dick. Jungkook wasn’t as gentle as his need grew heavier and with a strategic pull at your top, it ripped down the back, “Jungkook!”

“What?” He asked with a giddy smile, tempted to be playful, “It was in my way.”

You rolled your eyes, sitting up to take your skirt off yourself and prevent another hazard while Jungkook finished undressing himself. “It was custom, asshole.”

Jungkook’s smile dropped with worry, lips parted in surprise until you burst out into a laugh and fell onto his lap, “You should see the look on your face.”

“Ha ha, don’t scare me like that,” Jungkook chuckled, “I was already thinking about the fortune I would have to pay to fix that.”

“Jungkook,” you ignored the fact that the two of you were naked, in the middle of an intimate moment and asked, “What did you mean earlier?”

“When?” Jungkook asked, caressing your leg, “About staying? Yeah, I’m serious.”

“You are?” You crossed your arms over your bare chest, “Why?”

“Why?” He was visibly taken back, “What do you mean why?”

“I mean… just a few days ago you were adamant on leaving right after the wedding and when you left the resort before everyone else we all kind of figured you had left but you’re here now and…” You took a deep breath in thought.

“Do you want me to leave?” Jungkook asked, sounding more hurt than he intended to. All this time pushing and pulling his feelings for how he felt about being here and seeing you was getting to him. He’s very aware how confusing he is and spending a night with you shouldn’t have changed his mind this quickly while he also refused to admit.

“We didn’t talk about what happened at the party,” you said suddenly, feeling Jungkook drape his shirt over your naked figure as the conversation shifted drastically.

“I know,” he dropped his head, “I’m sorry, I was really confused and I couldn’t tell what I was feeling or how you were feeling and I was mad and… I thought you probably didn’t care.”

“I mean, I didn’t,” you shrugged, “But because I figured it was just a one time thing since you were very obvious with how little you thought of me and now you’re saying you’re staying longer while visiting me at home and it just… I don’t get it.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Jungkook was in his slacks again, trying to fix whatever mess he might have made over time, “I just… I was just being dumb. I wanted to act like I wasn’t into you at all because I was mad at everyone else and it wasn’t fair that I took it out on you but I thought you didn’t like me either.”

“And you’re right, you were mean to me,” you nudged him with your foot, “So really, I shouldn’t even be in this position with you right now.”

Jungkook didn’t dare argue when you called him out, “You always pretended to hate me even when you’d get jealous if someone else talked to me and you could never take your eyes off me.”

His brows furrowed, reminded of the trip and how everyone always joked that he wanted you when he was so stubborn on saying he didn’t. He didn’t like how predictable his life was.

“Because I knew everyone thought you were perfect,” Jungkook tried pulling you toward him, “And they didn’t know how you liked to push my buttons and say things you knew would get to my head and how you were actually so unbelievably perfect that it pissed me off everytime I let you get to me.”

“Don’t sweet talk me now,” you teased when he leaned over to lay between your legs, content with the sight of you in his Dior shirt, “How are you gonna repay me for being such a dick?”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook admitted, “Say the word and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I have everything I want,” you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Come on Y/n, don’t make this hard on me,” he whined playfully, “Everyone else is already making it hard and I just want to spend the night with you. I’ll let you use me.”

Your brow raised and with a soft laugh you pulled him toward you for a kiss, “I get to use the Jeon Jungkook? What will everyone say?”

“That they saw it coming,” Jungkook chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours, “So don’t stop the inevitable.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling your arousal from earlier slowly make its return, “You’re so spoiled.”

“I know.”

Jeon Jungkook now knows what an awful liar he’s been these last couple of years. All of this talk about wanting to be different, break free from his family’s influences and the world of money and power, was meaningless in the end. He tried, he really did but his rebellion of running off and doing whatever he pleased, refusing to acknowledge the company, the wealth and the people in it was short lived because he never actually wanted to escape it.

He was still going to be friends with the people he grew up with and fall back to his old routine of country clubs and parading on yachts or private islands.

He was still going to take over his share of his father’s company and dress himself up in designer Kiton suits that he used to despise wearing.

He was still going to fall for you, the person he despised simply for being an exact reflection of himself. You were perfect for him in every way on paper and that made him want to push you away but in the end, he still fell for you like he knew he would.

Some people dream about having the life he does, or growing up the way he did and yet here he was selfishly wishing it all away. It was perfect, it was so insanely perfect and unfair that Jungkook ever thought he wouldn’t be happy with what he had been handed down to him for simply being born.

“This person gathered valuable experiences in the world and has shown such a strong will to portray it all into commitment for the company and that makes me a proud father,” A deep voice spoke from behind a podium with an echoing mic that had the attention of over a hundred people, “Please, welcome the newest V.P. for Jeon Corporation, my youngest son, Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook had an arrogant smile on his lips as he walked onto stage, thanking everyone for congratulating him on his quick and easy advance in the company—even surpassing his older brother.

“Honestly, it is a big thank you to everyone close to me, for helping me see how ready I am to step into this role and fulfill my duty as a member of this corporation,” Jungkook said confidently, looking at all his friends who had a mixture of confused yet knowing smiles on their faces.

“What a brat,” Hoseok joked with Namjoon, “And I blame you for this.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen someone get pulled back into the country’s good graces so easily,” Namjoon laughed, remembering all the articles about how my ridiculous Jungkook was for publicly stating he would never be a part of the company.

“That’s because he’s spoiled,” Jungkook’s older brother chimed in, “Even after he says he’s gonna walk away from it, he’s still gonna be welcomed back with open arms.”

Taehyung released a playful sigh, “I want to be Jeon Jungkook when I grow up, the perfect life just handed to me and I’m just too blind to appreciate it.”

“Tae, you’re rich,” Yeonwoo whispered to him, Taehyung grinning at her reminder and sitting up straighter.

“How was it?” Jungkook asked his friends as he looked around the table.

“Well rehearsed,” Taehyung gave him the thumbs up, “Also, where’s Y/n? I thought she’d be here.”

Jungkook checked the time on his watch, his leg already bouncing underneath the table, “Yeah, I thought so too.”

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal to him. This was all just some flashy way for his father to make Jungkook’s debut in the business widely anticipated and you had other things to do than be here. The two of you aren’t even officially together yet so it’s not like you owe it to him or anything.

“Y/n,” Jimin whined as he watched the valet open the limo door for you, “Please don’t ditch me. I’m your best friend, imagine how much fun we could be having. Everyone’s going to ask where you ran off to after the dinner.”

“Well you can tell them,” you hurried to finish applying your lip gloss, “That I had more important things to do than get drunk at some fashion party.”

“Right, just throw me to the side like I mean nothing,” Jimin said dramatically, “Is this how you treat friends now?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing he was only trying to cause a scene. Jimin knew you would be calling it an early night but he just wanted it to be difficult. With a small sigh, you double checked that you looked fine in the mirror and said, “Okay, wish me luck, I’m hoping I get laid tonight.”

“I also hope you get laid tonight so that I don’t have to listen to you talk about how much you want to see him,” Jimin said as you made your way out the car, “Goodnight.”

By the time you got to the banquet, the cameras had been long gone from the entrance and so you were able to make your appearance quietly. You would have been here earlier if there hadn’t been an ambassador dinner tonight that you had already agreed to do before Jungkook decided on staying and you just couldn’t miss it.

You felt bad because Jungkook had asked you to come be his date but he understood why you couldn’t make it right away. If anything he should be happy that you hurried over from dinner to the banquet without an outfit change. Despite the number of attendants, it was really a private affair with only a couple people from the press but nothing too grand and over the top. It made arriving late less miserable and finding Jungkook and your friends much easier.

And when you first involved yourself with Jungkook in this way, you should have known it wouldn’t all be easy. You were now somewhat seeing the most eligible bachelor in the country and nobody knows about it aside from speculation. Speculation won’t stop spoiled rich girls who want him to themselves and that’s what you saw when you found him.

“It’s so great to have you back Kooky, it’s like… the best thing to ever happen,” some girl gushed at him from the once empty seat to his left. She seemed unaffected by the stares she received from around the table and didn’t care at all that Jungkook wasn’t even glancing her way. He doesn’t know her, she’s probably just the daughter of some wealthy couple who thinks she has a chance with him.

Jungkook stared forward, watching his friends’ faces as their eyes softened, no longer listening to the girl who said, “Maybe we can get together some time.”

A gentle hand touched his shoulder, soft lips brushing against his ear as you said, “Maybe we can get together some time too.”

There was no denying the smile that grew on his face as he turned to look at you and how close you were to him. Jungkook’s lips parted in pleasant surprise, ready to talk to you when someone else spoke up.

“Excuse us, sweetheart,” Namjoon said to the girl, “It seems our table is full, maybe you can try somewhere else?”

She left with an annoyed scoff, making room for you to sit down, “Sorry I’m late, did any of you miss me?”

You had a sweet smile on your face, a camera clicked somewhere else in the distance surely capturing how close you were to Jungkook specifically, who was tracing his hand along your thigh.

“Dearly,” Jungkook said as he leaned into you for a quick kiss on the lips, “Thanks for coming.”

“I told you I’d try and make it,” you said to him, “I missed the speech didn’t I?”

“It was nothing special,” Jungkook’s hand began to slide down the space between your legs—or at least as far as your dress would let it, “Just the usual talk about how amazing I am, it was all very boring.”

“But I love talking about you,” Your tone was sarcastic yet flirty, your hand falling over his in warning when he began to pull up your dress just a little. You were sitting at a table with a large draped tablecloth that hid your legs underneath but you were still very aware of the fact that your friends were all around the table.

“Y/n,” Hoseok called for you from across the table, “How does it feel to have the Jeon Jungkook wrapped around your finger?”

Jungkook turned to his friend with a harsh glare, knowing he was just poking fun at it all but still managing to get under his skin. You looked at Jungkook with a knowing grin, “Like nothing I didn’t expect.”

He scoffed, squeezing your thigh possessively, “I think the feelings are mutual, darling.”

You leaned into him, not caring for being around so many important people with cameras trying to capture whatever moment they can, “They are.”

::.

a/n omg it took me literally forever to write this and idk how I feel about it but yknow what 😭it’s finished and that’s what matters. I was in the mood for some rich kdrama feel fic and I hope I managed to pull that off at least a litttlleeeeeeere

thanks for everyone that waited patiently and please feel free to lmk what you think <3

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]

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bewtched · 11 months

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TAGS : SHIPS : ROMANTIC

「 💔 」 ⇾ NAME & NAME . * ━ quote .

❤️💔 ❔

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sermna · 3 months

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For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea— In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Repaint! And boy did it need it.

I know John has a different appearance according to Muir herself but... I can't stop picturing him like this lol... he's just a guy 🤷‍♀️

#I don't think you want to feel the bright eyes of the beautiful annabel lee tbh #my art #the locked tomb #tlt fanart

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ladywuvly · 3 months

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barry sloane +au. +characters rec list!

masterlist. socials. recs.

head canons & imagines |

dbf!price boys your age by @captainfern

dbf!price shotgunning his cigar by @inkbybambi

dbf!price sugardaddy; part.2 by @faith369

bf!price headcanons by @empresskylo

landlord!price moving out by @gatorlovebot

husband!price darling wife by @ghosts-cyphera

honesty by @gatorlovebot - John doesn't like liars.

fixing your bad self-image by @sweetiecutie - You’ve been feeling a bit self-conscious lately, so John decides to fuck some sense into your head.

tummy love by @stoutpancakes

truth or dare? by @soapyghost

don't disobey by @jawabear - A risky move on the field leaves the captain less than happy with you.

steady girl by @jawabear - John loves when you help him trim his facial hair. And he loves what comes after as well.

genesis by @moondirti - It’s the first time you truly see him – this much of him, anyway, and he’s startlingly younger than you would’ve thought. The progression of a spite-fuelled relationship.

eye contact by @kungfubarbie101

two is hardly a crowd by @grippingbeskar

how to disappear by @fawnpires - After a failed attempt at a date, you unexpectedly find yourself in the hands of comfort of your dorm-mate, also known as your captain.

bartender by @sky-is-the-limit

rings by @glossysoap

what’ve you done this time by @captainfern inspo; @bleuu-moon

just the tip, love by @floralpascal

home is the feeling of you by @maryangelex - You’re Price’s fiancé back home and it’s been months since you’ve seen him. He’s been on deployment and days have been getting lonelier the more days pass. Until you get home one night from work to a more than pleasant surprise.

taking his time by @empresskylo

neighborly advice by @sky-is-the-limit - Your neighbor price takes matters into his own hands to finish what your incompetent ex could never. all in the name of good neighborly solidarity, of course.

cigar smoke and good sex by @lxvvie

helping hands by @deathsimage

break the rules by @bonitanightmxres - Months after breaking up, you and price agree to a “no strings attached” relationship to fill the void in your lives—but it proves to be harder than anticipated when you both start to catch feelings again.

how you deserve by @manmuncher777 Inspo; @sky-is-the-limit

fics |

never let me go 5/5 by @maryangelex - You worked at a coffeehouse, your life is filled with mundanity and you wouldn't change it for anything else. That is, until one crisp autumn morning, you meet the handsome Captain John Price and there’s an immediate, undoubted connection between the two of you.

neighborly 5/5 by @391780 inspo; @hereforthepedrofanfic - You and your neighbor, john price, slowly getting to know each other over the holidays.

the rear window 5/5 by @391780 - spinoff! neighborly!pricepov stalker!price.

soft 9/9 by @391780 - Soap says dumb shit in a bar, Captain Price falls in love with a fat girl.

Songs That Sound Like Sea-Foam 2/2 by @halcyone-of-the-sea - fisherman!price x mermaid!reader.

take me home, country road 5/5 by @ceilidho - 1800s!price. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town. only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl

callsign: zero 12/12 by @cass-the-mess - 2 years ago you saved John Price from an untimely death, only to disapear without a trace before he could thank you properly for getting him back home safe. You show up again 2 years later to help the task force defeat a new enemy. Tensions rise as you show your true colors and navigate through unresolved issues that puts you and your new team at risk. Are you willing to finally open up or do you keep pushing everyone away to keep yourself "safe".

marigold 7/7 by @captainfern - dadsbestfriend!price (pretty much anything and all things from this masterlist.)

disclamer! none of these are my works all credit to the authors. I just loved them so much figured I'd give them a shoutout!

#ladywuvly. recs.#captain john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x female reader #captain price x y/n #captain price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #captain john price x female reader #captain price smut #captain price mw2 #captain john price smut #navi.#nsfwcontent #18+ mdni

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oscalesoffeeling · 1 year

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where is my hubbin????

#i feel sick and i miss him like a drowning man misses air.#which sounds so epic. not to Toot My Own Horn but bwaa i get some damn good one liners on here!!! - local pretentious asshole.#like ngl my gushes and vents have some seriously beautiful bits and pieces to them. it's the love tbh.#he is my muse. my darling huffie... my eternal resting place is his arms. we belong together.#my darling my darling my life and my bride is an apt description.#i neeeeedd him.#why aren't we cuddling and snuggling right now???? where are my kisses and rubs???? huh??#i'm so lonely. so touch starved. my body is so hungry.#in every way... lately i've been so ravenous. my appetite and my libido have returned in full swing. and i'm so empty.#it's such a terrible feeling..... i wish my sweetheart was holding me against him. i wanna lay on him and be safe and warm #and content. with him forever and ever and ever......#he haunts my every waking moment and when i sleep i am so full of dread. and when i dream of him....#it's all too much.#i wish he were here with me.#ellie rambles about stuff #he spun the stars on his fingernails (tag)#ohhh i wanna fuck that old man i wanna fuck him so bad.#suggestive #/vent

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changbunnies · 16 days

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Reverie, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Prince!Hyujin x Lord's Daughter!Reader

♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, love at first sight, fairy tale elements, angst, fluff, eventual smut

♡ Word Count: 18.9k

♡ Summary: Staring out from your window everyday where you live confined, Hyunjin sees you- melancholic, lonely, beautiful; love at first sight. He wants to know you, to take you away from where you remain, doomed to be solitary. Spending your every moment daydreaming about the perfect life, meeting Hyunjin sparks a hope that you'd long since given up on- that your reverie can become your reality.

♡ Warnings: reader has an evil step-mother and step-sisters, involuntary confinement, themes of loneliness, isolation, and emotional + verbal abuse, reader is very touch starved and has low self-esteem from her mistreatment, past + referenced parental death (none are described) as well as having a parent who is sick, outdated marriage traditions, chan is featured and goes by chris, incredibly unrealistic because of the fairy tale romance inspo lol but it's a fun read, i hope!

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): virgin reader + virgin hyunjin, petnames (darling), loss of virginity, nipple play, oral (f + m rec), unprotected piv, creampie

♡ Notes: hey yall sorry its been a over month since my last post :') i was going thru a lot in my personal life that made it hard to write, as well as i HATED my first draft of this fic so i decided to entirely rewrite it gfsdhsdg but it's finally here after a lot of grief !! I honestly still don't like it all that much but I didn't want it to sit in my drafts any longer or rewrite for a third time so :') anyways i took a inspo for this one from rapunzel and cinderella, as well as a bit from sweeney todd (if you’ve seen the movie pls tell me you see the vision of hyunjin as jamie campbell bower’s character…) + a smidge of romeo and juliet.

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Sighing as he watches the scenery slowly pass him by through the carriage window, a deep frown adorns Hyunjin's face. He's no stranger to traveling, and normally he quite enjoys the break from the typical royal monotony, but this time around he can't bring himself to enjoy the sights that pass him by. The abundant flower fields, the surrounding lush forest on the edges, the perfectly blue sky.. none of them prevent the melancholy from setting in; because waiting for him at today's destination, in a manor just a fair few miles outside the castle city's walls, is yet another girl hoping to be his bride.

He's tired, to put it plainly; tired of meeting girl after girl who cares not for who he is as a person, but what his lineage offers them- and he expects today to go no differently. Why would he after the countless disappointments he's faced, after the myriad of times he's expected a night to end badly, and been proved right? And perhaps it is unfair of him to judge how the afternoon will go well before he's even met her, but his expectations have long since been set.

Hyunjin's royal attendant, who accompanies him to all his meetings and currently sits beside him within the carriage, does his best not to show how the prince's constant sighing grates on his nerves. Royal attendants should always be calm and patient in the face of frustration, and that is what Christopher strives to be; so he speaks to the prince as kindly as his dwindling patience will allow him. "Must you look so miserable? I imagine the girls won't take kindly to the prince looking at them with such disdain."

"Girls? Plural?" Hyunjin asks, groaning audibly when his attendant nods. Great. As if a blind setup with just one girl wasn't enough.. Still, he doesn't need to be reminded to mind his manners. He'll hold himself to the utmost royal standard when the time comes, as he always does- and he tells Chris as such. "I certainly hope so," Christopher responds with practiced ease, "There aren't many demoiselles left to meet, and your father will be disappointed if we return with more outright denials."

"I'm aware," Hyunjin replies simply, frustration still clear in his voice, though he tries his best to temper it. He knows his attendant is not wrong, and is simply trying to look out for him while also keeping Hyunjin's royal duty in mind. It's imperative that Hyunjin marry before his father's illness progresses to the point that he must concede the throne, and it's Christopher's job to ensure that Hyunjin doesn't forget that.

But still.. despite the circumstances begging for urgency, this is not a matter that Hyunjin is willing to bend on. He values true love, romance, genuine connection above all else; and so when he marries, he'll do it for real love, and real love only- even if it means the throne passes him by and goes instead to his uncle. Hyunjin doesn't understand, nor does he care, why the law requires him to marry to take the throne. He imagines it's related to ensuring that the noble line continues- something he ultimately pays no mind to and refuses to take seriously, though he knows he should.

Hyunjin is considered by most of the royal family to be stubborn by nature, a trait his father has told him countless times he gets from his late mother, but Hyunjin himself likes to believe he is reasonable. While he's not entirely malleable, he does act with the country's best interest in heart, and he swallows down all frustration and gracefully does whatever he feels he must in favor of doing what is best for the citizens.

It just so happens that marriage is the one thing on which he will not compromise; and stubborn or not, Hyunjin thinks he should be allowed this one thing. All he wants is genuine love with someone who places the same amount of value in that love as he does, and he never expected that such a wish would be too much to ask for. But either way, all he can do for now is straighten his posture, put on his best smile, and hope that against his expectations, today will bring him the love he’s been searching for.

Similarly, you too stare from your window; though not from a horse-drawn carriage, but from where your bedroom lies on the second floor of your late father's manor. According to your step-mother, a very important suitor is coming to meet your step-sisters today, and she has taken every necessary precaution in ensuring you would be out of the way for the evening. You were used to such treatment by now, and being locked away in your room and ignored for hours on end was no longer something that brought you the intense grief it once had.

Sad to say, it'd become a simple fact of life since your father passed; you were used to the loneliness and the sadness and the grief of having a family that did not love you as you loved them. Truly, you loved your step-mother and sisters, and back then you never would've guessed they secretly abhorred your existence. But your father passed, and with his passing came the truth- that she never loved your father, or you- just what he had; and she was raising her daughters to be just the same.

Against his wife's knowledge or wishes however, your father's will had stipulations she must follow if she wanted to inherit his estate- the most important of which being that she care for you, his precious, only biological daughter, as one of her own until the day you are wed and depart from the manor to be with your new family. Thanks to this clause, your step-mother provides for you; and though it is only the bare minimum amount necessary, it could certainly be worse. You still have your childhood bedroom, all your precious belongings, 3 hot meals a day, and the maids who helped your father raise you still checking in on you.

The maids are forbidden from interacting with you more than is necessary, as your step-mother makes it her mission to make you as miserable as possible within the limitations your father's will provides, but they do what they can. The small talk they provide while filling your bath with hot water, and the snuck in messages written on scraps of paper hidden beneath your dinner tray are often the highlights of your day. You are lonely, but not alone, and that keeps you going on the particularly hard days.

Days like today, where the padlock your step-mother installed outside your bedroom door is ordered to remain locked no matter what, ensuring that you are unable to leave and ruin her evening, or her plans. She intends to find her daughters wealthy, prestigious husbands- men that cannot be given the chance to look upon you, lest they decide they like you more than her biological daughters.

You wouldn't misbehave regardless of whether or not the lock was in place. You're so used to being locked away in your room that even were the lock to no longer exist, you don't think you'd even notice; because you wouldn't ever try to leave in the first place. And compounding on that, you don't think yourself particularly special or beautiful enough to "threaten" your sister's marriage prospects; all you'd do is needlessly subject yourself to reminders that you're lesser than when they inevitably gloss over you.

You simply.. exist. But in your step-mother's eyes, that's your greatest sin. She hates you, and your existence alone causes her great grief. The simple fact that you exist prevented her from truly obtaining what she wanted most; your father's wealth hinged on you being taken care of to obtain. And thus, she couldn't just throw you out and leave you to your fate as she originally intended; so she begrudgingly provides for you, the depth of her loathing coming out in passive-aggressive words, meals resentfully delivered, and a locked bedroom door where she can leave you for a time and pretend her greatest wish is true- that you don't exist.

Staring out your window is how you've come to spend most of your days. Daydreaming, listening to birds sing, watching deer graze and rabbits sprint across the fields and between the trees. You reread your books to the point you could recite them with ease, you fantasize about love and companionship and freedom, and you wonder if there will ever come a day where such joy can be yours. You suspect not; when you do marry, it'll likely be to some terrible man your step-mother chooses on the basis that they continue your misery.

But in the sanctity of your bedroom, inside your imagination and idle daydreams, you can pretend that true love and happiness waits for you. Where you are valued and cherished and adored, where you are wanted and craved, where a life without you in it cannot even be imagined, for it would be too painful for your lover to even consider.

Lost in thought as you are, you almost miss it when the carriage your step-mother and sisters are expecting comes into sight. And normally you would pull yourself away from the window, make sure you're out of sight from whomever exits the carriage, lest whoever your step-mother is having over recognize you. But this carriage is so different from the ones that typically arrive at the manor that it makes you curious.

It's fancy- easily the most extravagant and ornate carriage you've ever seen; not that you've seen many, but the point stands. It's clear that whomever your family is meeting today is no ordinary suitor. There’s a crest beholden on the door, one that seems vaguely familiar, and you wish you could place it as it would assuredly be a hint to who is arriving, but the memory of what family it comes from eludes you.

It’s been so long since you’ve been out to the city, or communicated with families your father was close with, that it's hard to recall the family crests you once so easily recognized. But whatever family it belongs to, one thing is clear- they are surely wealthy and prestigious to afford a carriage this grand. No wonder your step-mother wants you out of the way today; if a wealthy suitor somehow chooses you over her real daughters, that would be her worst nightmare.

You watch with bated breath as a man steps out from the left side of the carriage, a man you can tell from dress alone is some sort of attendant. He works his way around to the right of the carriage to open the door for whoever remains inside- the wealthy suitor being an obvious guess. And really, you should look away and mind your own business lest you risk angering your step-mother, but you can't help yourself. This is the closest thing to fresh entertainment you’ve had (and are going to have), and so you can’t bring yourself to tear your eyes away.

And oh, the man who steps out when the door is opened for him is breathtaking. Even at a distance, he’s positively ethereal- easily the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. And you are certain that, even with your lack of worldly experience, he is utterly without comparison. He’s pretty, impossibly pretty, with long black hair, half of which is tied back by a ribbon, rings adorning his fingers, ornate yet dainty bracelets that seem to perfectly match the necklaces he wears, and beautiful, pure white and dangly earrings that remind you of a teardrop in shape, all of which match his equally embellished doublet.

He looks so very grand, elegant, to the point that you feel absolutely unworthy to even be looking at someone so strikingly gorgeous and well dressed. God, if he chooses one of your step-sisters to marry, someone so clearly wealthy and beautiful and important.. you just know your step-mother will lord it over you as her greatest proof that they are better than you.

The bitter, hurt part of you half wished the man your sisters were meeting today would be boorish and unimpressive, but of course that’s not the case.. And it saddens you, strangely. You like to think yourself above pettiness, and you’d rather experience the world through a lens of kindness despite what you’ve suffered, but seeing someone so utterly perfect going to meet your sisters, and knowing how they will mock you and laugh in your face should he fall for one of them..

Maybe, somewhere deep down, you’re jealous. Jealous, and angry, and hurt, as you’ve always been, but tried not to acknowledge. And it’s not the perceived wealth you’re jealous of, or the possibility of a beautiful husband, but the chance for connection they have that you don’t. That they can meet someone like him and be given the chance to fall in love, while you are forced into isolation and monotony. It isn’t fair, and it never has been, but today of all days is where you feel that injustice most strongly.

You choke on the melancholy, your eyes well with tears that you try to blink away as your hands ball into fists in your lap. You shouldn’t have watched the window today or let your curiosity and boredom get the best of you- all you’ve done is make yourself impossibly sad. You begin to stand from your seat by the window, ready yourself to close the curtains and wallow in your bed for the rest of the evening, when suddenly, you freeze. Your hand unmoving on the curtain, eyes widening with the realization that your sister’s suitor is looking at you. And it's not as simple as a passing glance- no, he is staring at you.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened when he first saw you in the window, at first just passively looking over the manor and taking in the sight as he readied himself to enter, before his eyes fell upon you. And upon seeing you, he became completely and utterly enraptured by your beauty, in a way he’s never experienced with anyone he’s ever met before.

He can’t help but stare, can’t manage to tear his eyes away from your visage even when Chris calls his name. And when you stand to close the curtains, and your eyes travel to him and meet his gaze, his breath catches in his throat, his heart skips a beat before it races, and his face flushes to an impossibly bright pink.

How and why does he have this feeling? How is that you enchant him with just a glance, when others have failed to with much more? You’ve not yet truly met, nor spoken a single word, and yet he feels it firmly- a desire hereto unmatched, that does not follow preconceived notions of what is logical, the kind you would only read about in the great romantic works of playwrights and novelists. A feeling he never expected to be based in truth, but here he is now, feeling it for himself- love at first sight.

And if love at first sight is real and it is true, then he cannot wait to meet you. To learn your name and hear your voice and speak with you until your throats run dry. He’ll devote himself to learning everything about you, to carving your every word and thought into his memory. He wants to learn what it is about your soft, melancholic expression that he finds so entrancing, to discover what it is that causes his heart to stir in ways entirely foreign to him.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness, Prince Hyunjin, Hyunjin-” Christopher tries every way possible to get the prince’s attention, letting out an exasperated sigh when Hyunjin finally turns back to him. He doesn’t even know what caught his attention- when he tried to follow the prince’s gaze, all he was met with was a window with its curtains pulled shut. “My apologies. I just-” Hyunjin starts, taking one last glance at the now empty window before turning back to his attendant. “Nevermind. Let’s just go inside.”

Chris quietly huffs his agreement, quickly offering the manor’s maids who were waiting on them his apologies in Hyunjins stead, as he is used to. He’s accustomed to not understanding what goes on inside the prince’s head, but at least he seems prepared now.. Almost happy, Chris would think if he didn’t know better. Regardless of its origin and whether or not he understands where it came from, he will welcome it- because it really is vital that Hyunjin choose a bride with haste.

The start of the evening goes as predictably as anticipated from that point on- the maids lead them to the great room, offering tea and freshly baked sweets while they wait. Hyunjin politely turns them down while Chris stands a comfortable distance away, there simply to keep an eye on the prince and observe how the arranged meeting proceeds. The lady of the manor enters the room after some time passes, bowing politely and apologizing for the delay before ushering her daughters into the room.

They’re dressed extravagantly, as expected, with expensive jewelry, perfectly laid hair, and tasteful makeup. They introduce themselves politely, though they erupt into quiet giggles afterwards, likely excited that one of them will potentially be chosen to marry the prince. Their mother shoots them a look, and it makes them clear their throats and cease their elated giggling, returning to proper posture with their hands folded in front of them, both smiling at him sweetly. But something’s wrong..

Hyunjin looks between the girls, their mother, and back to the girls, head tilting and brows furrowing in confusion; he doesn’t see the one from the window anywhere.. Shouldn’t she be here? “Isn’t there another?” he asks, and the dame’s eyes widen for a moment, a complex flash of emotions that Hyunjin doesn’t have enough time to fully decipher within them, before she reverts back to her previous calm, inviting demeanor.

“I believe I wrote in my proposal to the royal family that I have two, and only two, daughters. Perhaps there was a miscommunication between you and your men?” She suggests, and though it’s spoken kindly, Hyunjin gets the distinct impression that she wants to shut down any talk of a third daughter here and now. Christopher too is confused, but he apologizes to the dame, insisting the mistake is his fault, though it certainly isn’t.

The dame accepts the apology and swiftly moves on, though the tension still lingers. Even as she begins to talk at great length about how wonderful her daughters are and how lucky everyone involved would be should Hyunjin choose one of them to be his princess, there’s an edge beneath the kindly spoken words that hint towards how bothered his mistake made her. Her daughters too seem tense when he first questions if there is another, though by the time they are allowed to speak themselves all tension in them seems to melt away, instead focusing on singing their own praises and expressing their desire to see the royal castle.

It’s so jarring, tense, awkward, that it completely prevents Hyunjin from being able to focus on a single word the girls say. Ordinarily, he would not bat an eye at someone correcting a mistake in his speech or for having come to an incorrect conclusion, as it is imperative that a prince goes about his dealings with as correct as information as possible. But that being said, the dame’s reaction rubs him the wrong way, especially when paired with the nervous flash in her daughter’s eyes as their bodies tensed..

If he was simply mistaken, it would be natural and correct for her to clear up any misgivings he has about her family and estate kindly- there’d be no reason to address him with such underlying hostility or be on the defensive, as if he’d brought up a point that needs to be fiercely fought against. The emotion that flickered in their eyes, the terse words filled with faux-niceties, the shift in body language.. They suggest to Hyunjin only one thing- that a third daughter is in fact here; and for some strange reason, the lady of the house doesn’t want him to meet her.

But why would that be? The ideas that cross his mind make him woefully unable to focus on anything spoken to him. Maybe you’re already promised to someone else, maybe you’ve been married before and are now widowed, living in your old family home while stricken with grief.. Maybe you’re a cousin simply having a visit that by pure chance coincides with the prince arriving too, or maybe he imagined you somehow. But could that really be? You were so real, that doesn’t seem possible..

“But what do you think? .. Prince Hyunjin..?” One of the girls asks, and when he doesn’t reply, Chris clears his throat and steps forward to subtly nudge the prince, breaking him from his thoughts. “Allow me to apologize. The prince is.. tired these days. He’s got a lot on his plate, as I’m sure you understand,” Chris says, shooting Hyunjin a look that begs him to take the lead and finish cleaning the mess he’s made.

“Yes, I’m sorry. Uhm- perhaps you could allow me a small break? And then I promise you’ll both have my undivided attention,” Hyunjin suggests, being sure to offer them his most charismatic smile in the hopes they’ll look past how inattentive he’s been thus far. They agree easily, giggling and lightly blushing, assuring him a break is good for everyone (which he knows isn’t true, but it’s polite of them, at least.)

This time, he accepts the tea when it’s offered to him, chugging it down in a display that goes completely against the manners that have been drilled into him. He asks to be led to the nearest restroom, splashes water on his face and wills himself to focus on the task at hand. And though it comes with great difficulty, he forces himself to pay strict attention to every word spoken to him from that point onward, though your image continues to exist in the back of his mind the entire time.

Hyunjin steps out of the manor with a sigh, finding himself entirely drained after his meeting with the two sisters and their incredibly duplicitous mother. Originally, he’d planned to leave before nightfall, but they somehow managed to rope him into having dinner with them, and to say it was exhausting would be an understatement. Now he stands in the light of the moon, deep frown returning as he waits for preparations to leave to be made- because he absolutely refuses to stay here until morning.

As expected, once he broke himself out of his fog and started paying attention to what they were saying, they were incredibly vain and equally daft, and the more he spoke to them, the clearer it became that they weren’t fit to someday sit on a throne. It was extremely obvious that they were vying for increased fortune and pride- and at the behest of their mother specifically. To old herself to marry into the royal family, it seemed she was content to allow her daughters to do the social climbing on her behalf.

Not that her daughter’s are completely ignorant of this plot- he’s sure they’re well aware of the benefits if one of them becomes a princess, and are well instructed and prepped on how best to appeal themselves to a noble’s proclivities. Unfortunately for them, Hyunjin is unlike most nobles, and he takes the task of one day rearing his country very seriously- much too seriously to marry someone selfish, and without grace or tact, nor whom he fails to have a genuine connection with. Beauty alone won’t be enough to win him over.

Saying that however.. He can’t seem to stop thinking about the strikingly gorgeous girl he saw from the window. He feels himself a hypocrite, saying it takes more than good looks to win his heart, and yet still finding himself hung up on the mysterious beauty in the window. He looks up to that window, and sees nothing- the curtains are drawn, the room pitch dark, and there’s a part of him that considers the dame’s words true. There is no third girl, and what he saw was perhaps a phantom, a trick of the light, a mysterious cousin, or..

Well, he doesn’t know what, but he can’t allow himself to continue to linger on a girl that may not even be real, or obtainable if she does exist. "What's going on with you tonight? You never have a good time at these things, but you've been more off than is.. typical of you," Chris suddenly speaks up after Hyunjin sighs once more, and the prince frowns as he looks to his attendant.

A lot weighs on his mind; more than he feels he can even begin to explain. The way Hyunjin's thoughts swim in his head like a whirlpool- can he even begin to express himself in a way that is coherent and understandable to his most trusted attendant? Regardless, he has to start somewhere, and so he tries. “I’m afraid that I’ll never find what I’m looking for. Those girls were.. vapid to say the least. I’ve no interest in marrying a social climber, but.. I am beginning to think that perhaps I have no choice.”

Chris' expression softens as he offers Hyunjin a gentle, reassuring pat on the shoulder. There is little he can do to make the prince feel better about his circumstance, he knows; he often has to remind Hyunjin to keep his royal duty in mind, and though it doesn't always show, he does feel bad that the prince is forced into such a situation.

It can't be easy bearing such a burden, and Chris certainly doesn't envy the struggle to find a bride under such constraints, or the responsibilities that will come to Hyunjin once he is wed. “Well, don’t fret too hard about that just yet. We still have a few more interested parties we’ve yet to meet. And maybe the universe wants to show you the wrong first, so that when you meet who is right.. you’ll know,” Chris says earnestly, trying his best to show the prince support.

"Mm, maybe," Hyunjin mumbles, desperately hoping his attendant is right. He hoped you would be that right person, but if fate deems it right to show him heartache and to put him through trials before happiness can come to him then he will just have to accept that. Chris frowns, but knows there is not much else he can offer to ease the prince's worries; so he instead turns his attention to the carriage to check on the progress for departure.

“Looks like we’re ready to depart,” Chris says after the coachman finishes adorning the carriage with lanterns suitable for the night ride back to the castle, "Maybe you'll feel better after some rest. And if you'd like, we can talk some more about this tomorrow." Hyunjin simply nods, following his attendant to the carriage with an immense weight still on his shoulders.

Despite what he logically knows, he can't shake his sadness over the fact that his burden wasn't lifted this evening, the irrational sorrow that comes from his hopes being dashed- that the beautiful girl he saw in the window could not be met.. But he tries to think that maybe it’s for the best that there wasn’t a third daughter for him to meet after all. Given the influence of their mother, she’d likely have been just as bad as her sisters, and that would’ve surely broken his heart beyond the ache he feels now.

Chris approaches the left-side door first, opening it swiftly and then standing to the side, motioning for Hyunjin to enter first, as is customary. Hyunjin places a hand on the doorframe and a foot on the iron step, ready to step inside in the carriage, but takes one last glance at the manor before he does. And there, a glimmer of hope- the image of you, just barely there peeking through the curtains, the faint light of a candle flickering in your hand.

Though a considerable distance away, he can see your eyes widen when you realize he sees you yet again, gasping and quickly moving away from the window, the light of your candle disappearing with your image. “She’s there!” Hyunjin exclaims, instantly separating himself from the carriage, and taking an unconscious step back towards the manor. “Who’s there?” Chris questions as he follows Hyunjin’s gaze to the window, confused to, again, find absolutely no one and nothing of note.

"I.. don't know who exactly, but she was there, I saw her," Hyunjin continues, and while Chris is still utterly baffled, he does see that the curtains are slightly swaying despite the window being closed- meaning someone was there, and caused them to shift by either touching them, or walking past them. He looks back to Chris, sees the hesitant, puzzled expression, and tries to explain himself in the briefest, but most concise way possible.

“I saw her in the window when we first arrived too! I asked the dame about her, thinking she may have had another daughter, but you heard how she reacted- she brushed me off so coldly.” "Well.. maybe she was telling the truth? It's possible she's simply a maid," Chris suggests, but Hyunjin quickly shakes his head. "She isn't. I assure you, after seeing their maids I wouldn't confuse her for one.. She's entirely unlike any of them."

"Okay.. So she's not a maid. But there could still be a reasonable explanation for everything," Chris says, and oh no, he can instantly tell where Hyunjin's mind is going. "Exactly! So I'm going to meet her, and find out what that reason is," Hyunjin says, wasting no time in walking back up to the manor. “What? How exactly do you plan on doing that when the dame clearly didn’t want you to meet her?” Chris quietly exclaims as he follows Hyunjin towards the direction of your window.

“There’s a trellis near her window, and I intend to climb it,” Hyunjin smiles, as if it’s a perfectly reasonable plan and not at all insane for him to do. “Go back to the carriage, and instruct the coachman to drive it down the road and out of sight. I don’t want the ladies of the house to know I’m still here if they happen to look out from their windows,” Hyunjin instructs, and again, Chris is absolutely floored by the prince. “Your Highness, you- you can’t be serious,” he quietly exclaims again, though he can tell Hyunjin is entirely serious about all of this.

"Just do this for me, please? I need to do this- for my peace of mind if nothing else," Hyunjin tells him, and though Chris still doesn't understand why the prince is so adamant about meeting you, he can see the sincerity and the drive in his eyes, and so he concedes. “Fine, just.. try to be discreet and don’t take too long, okay? And don’t make her uncomfortable!” Chris warns and Hyunjin thanks his attendant warmly before turning his attention back to your window.

He approaches the manor carefully, tiptoeing up to the trellis that will act as his ladder to your window. He places a foot into one of the slots and carefully adds his weight, making sure it’ll hold before he begins to climb it in earnest. He’s never done anything like this, but he knows he’d regret it if he didn’t at least try to meet the woman who so easily captured his heart with just a glance, while desperately, and maybe vainly, hoping he has a chance with you.

Hyunjin knocks softly on the window once he reaches it, doing his best to make it loud enough for you to hear, but not so loud that he would alarm anyone who may be nearby. Though your room is dark, the moon offers just enough illumination through the curtains that he can make you out. And while unlit, you are still holding the candle in one hand, while the other is nervously placed over your heart.

You can't believe this happening- the devastatingly handsome man meant to be wooed by one of your sisters saw you again, and is now at your window? Your heart is racing out of control, you don't know what to do or what to think seeing him there, waiting for you to approach the window, approach him.

You didn't even expect to see him again when you stepped to your window and peeked out; you simply saw lantern light from your window whilst preparing for bed, and it piqued your interest. You wanted to know what was going on, of course you did, so you looked, fully expecting the answer to be guards doing an uncharacteristically late sweep of the grounds, or maids sneaking out to meet the secret lovers you knew them to have.

But what you saw instead was the beautiful man from earlier in the process of stepping inside his grand carriage- and as if sensing you were watching, he turned to the manor, his eyes instantly falling on you. Just as you had this evening, you gasped and quickly shuffled away from the window, blowing out your candle as your heart pounded in your chest. Several seconds passed, and with trembling steps, you stepped back to the window and took one more cautious glance outside, only to see him approaching the manor, clearly intending to seek you out.

You gasped again, moving away from the window once more, mind reeling and pulse quickening. And now he’s here, having clearly climbed the trellis up to your window, hope in his eyes as he looks at you and waits. Swallowing, you carefully set the candle down on your nearby nightstand before you take cautious steps back towards the window, opening it ever so slightly. “May I come in?” he asks quietly, likely recognizing that speaking at full volume would be unwise, “I wish to speak with you.”

His voice is as silky and pretty as you imagined, and it positively jolts you. Everything about him seems impossibly perfect- part of you thinks that you've must've already fallen asleep, that you're tucked in bed and having a vivid dream based on the events of the day. But no, you've never dreamed as vividly as this, and you'd certainly remember if you'd crawled into bed after checking the lantern light from the window.

And that leaves you with a dilemma; the man, as gorgeous as he is, is still a stranger- and certainly you can't just let a strange man enter your room through your window.. That goes against everything your father ever taught you about safety. So you hesitate, observing him carefully for a moment.

And maybe it's just the fact that he's beautiful, or your yearning for connection that makes you want to trust him, even if it makes no logical sense to do so. You can't help but think he looks genuine and sincere, and well.. you can't ignore how desperately you desire to talk to someone, anyone, for more than the brief amount you're allowed to with your maids. Still, even if you crave connection with someone, you should be careful who you speak to shouldn't you?

He notices the hesitancy, recognizes what kind of situation he's imposing on you, and so he speaks up again, "Or I can stay here and we just talk through the window? If that's okay with you." Hyunjin knows he's being unreasonable and getting way too ahead of himself in his desire to speak with you, and it's crucial that he does his utmost to show you that he has no intention of making you uncomfortable.

Really, you should turn him down; but logic has left you, and truth be told you don't entirely trust that he can stand at the top of the trellis and support his own weight for much longer. So, you open your window further, granting him permission to step inside in your bedroom. He crawls in through your window as quietly as he can manage, smiling at you when he's fully inside. His smile is timid, and a bit awkward- this is easily the most nervous he’s ever felt, and he knows he’s going about meeting you completely backwards, but what other choice did he have?

Your mother, aunt, or whoever she is to you- he doubts she would’ve allowed him the chance to meet you. Her words and body language were much too passive aggressive to lead him to believe she’d meet the request to speak with you kindly, nor does he think she'd take kindly to being insinuated a liar. Additionally, it was highly unlikely that she’d willingly and truthfully divulge information about you or answer his questions. And so it led him to this- his fateful first meeting with the girl of his dreams happening within her moonlit bedroom.

He's completely out of his depth and unsure of himself or anything he's doing, but he holds out his palm, offering for you to place your hand in his. You blink, look up and down between his hand and his patient expression, and then you remember- oh, right, proper introductions. The setting is unorthodox, but it seems he still has it in mind to be polite and correct; as much as is possible, anyways.

You hesitate a moment, but ultimately place your hand in his, and he bows to you, lifting your hand to his mouth and placing a chaste kiss just above the knuckle. It's a simple, proper greeting, one that most people your age are entirely accustomed to, but it's been so long since you experienced it that it makes your skin erupt in goosebumps and heart thump erratically in your chest.

And there's the fact that he's jaw droppingly gorgeous- that certainly doesn't help.

You do your best to collect yourself when he straightens back up and looks at you once more. "I'm Hyunjin," he tells you in case you don't know, voice still as soft as it was at your window, a near whisper, "would you tell me your name, please?" This whole thing is entirely out of order and backwards, but you politely curtsey after offering him your name, though it feels silly to do so in your night chemise. And something about the way he looks at you makes your face burn hotter than it ever has.

All he’s heard is you speak your name, but he already considers your voice to be just as pretty as you are- he hopes he’ll get to hear it far beyond this single night. "If I may, I want to ask.. Do you know who I am? Or why I came here today?" He asks, looking directly into your eyes as he awaits your answer. You swallow, the eye contact making your heart skip a beat and pulse climb, but you steady yourself the best you can to answer. "You're.. a suitor who came to meet my sisters. But I didn't know your name until you told me it."

Hyunjin's eyes flicker with unfamiliar emotion as he takes in your answer- he knew it! You're no ordinary girl, nor a housemaid with an unusually lavish room. And what strikes him, apart from the confirmation that you're related to the girls he met downstairs, is what you said about him. You didn't know his name, don't know who he is apart from a potential suitor to your sisters.

He still doesn't understand why you weren't allowed to meet him, but it gives him hope- that if you are unwed, your love can be genuine. You won't marry him for title or wealth or power, but for who he is as a person. In the 4 corners of your bedroom, his name holds no weight, and that's all he's ever wanted.

But he should ask now, before he gets too ahead of himself and breaks his own heart, or lets a leap in logic carry him far beyond where rationality can reach him- ask if you are already promised to another. "Are you betrothed?" Hyunjin asks, and you quickly shake your head, surprised by the way he smiles in a mix of joy and relief to know you are unwed. Is that.. a good thing?

You're not even sure why you shook your head so vehemently when he first asked, as if you wanted there to be no mistake. Why would it matter to him if you are going to be married to someone or not? But something about his smile tells you it matters to him very much, though it is impossible for you to fathom why that could be. "Why do you ask..?" you question hesitantly, unsure of what you even hope to hear in response.

"Since I first saw you in the window, I've wanted to know you," he tells you earnestly, and your heart once again skips a beat. You knew he saw you, and you knew that were he perceptive enough to tell you aren't a maid he'd likely have questions about you or lingering curiosity. But it still surprises you that he shows this much interest- that it's more to him than just a passing question he'd be content to forget about in a day's time.

“Why didn’t you ask my mother then?” you ask him, though you suspect you know the answer. It’s not that he’s trying to solve a mystery or investigate why a seemingly innocuous girl is tucked away out of sight from visitors- and while you’re sure he’d welcome the answers to such questions, it’s more than that. For some strange reason, it’s just you- you as a person that he wants to know.

And you don’t know what to do with that. Your existence is so often ignored and trivialized, you can’t begin to understand why a glance of you in the window is enough to drive him to seek you out. You can’t understand what it is about you that is worth this, worth the curiosity and the climb to your window. Why would anyone want to speak to you so badly? You’re not special enough to warrant this.

“I did ask, and I didn’t like the answer,” Hyunjin says, and you blink in surprise. You can easily imagine that your step-mother would dismiss your existence when asked about you, or say something along the lines of “she doesn’t matter,” or “don’t worry about her, she’s nobody,”- so it’s not that that surprises you. What surprises you is that he heard an answer and not only didn’t accept it, but said he didn’t like it. Why?

Try as you might, you can't understand his motivations. Even if he could tell there was more that your step-mother wasn't telling him, why does he care so much about who you are? All visitors before Hyunjin who have stolen a glance at you either never asked about you, or have accepted her answers at face value, and it made sense that they did- because what reason did they have to push for the truth, or meet you regardless of her wishes?

“I’m interested in you, and I didn’t believe what I was told. I want to know you,” he continues, reiterates his sentiment, and you feel utterly frozen. All you can manage to do is blink up at him, your breath and words caught in your throat. And you realize your hand still rests in his, and you’re sure he can feel the way it trembles- from confusion, from nerves, from the simple act of even being held by someone for the first time since you were a child. But he doesn’t let go, and you don’t take it away- because he’s interested in you, and you want to know what that means, want to cling to the possibility that you can have the companionship that has eluded you for years.

“But.. why?” you finally ask, mind reeling from the possibilities. Regardless of what your step-mother may have told him, there’s one thing that she’s never wrong about- that you’re nobody, nothing, that your existence is a hindrance and you’re better off shoved aside where you can’t impose on her. You used to challenge that thought, but you’ve long since lost the will to fight against it, often finding yourself believing it to be true. And since you’re not special, or important, or particularly pretty, why is he so interested in you? You just don’t get it.

"If you'll forgive me for being forward.. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on. And I know it's presumptuous of me, and perhaps shallow, to want to meet you so badly for that alone but.. I couldn't let the image of you go. I had to take the chance to find out who you are," Hyunjin spills his thoughts freely, making his desires and motivations clear.

And just as before, it leaves you completely stunned. What he's saying.. that can't be right. You? The most beautiful he's ever seen? That feels like something you should be saying to him- Hyunjin is easily the most radiant and ethereal person you've ever seen, but he's saying all this about you?

You're rendered speechless, face burning impossibly hot as the words repeat themself in your mind on a loop. "I've got to go," he continues, slowly letting go of your hand as he prepares to return to the window, "but I want- I hope you’ll allow me to see you again." I hope you'll give me a chance to win your heart, he wants to add, but he's already been much more forward than he'd ever imagined himself to be, and he doesn't want to jeopardize anything that might be budding.

He steps back to the window and you follow, watching as he readies himself to climb back down the trellis he used to reach you. "We'll meet again?" he asks after settling his weight on the trellis, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. It feels foolish, and a bit naive to wish so hard that you'll desire to see him again; all he can do now is hope the impression he made is enough to allow you defy your sense of logic, just as you've done to him simply by looking his way.

You smile softly, the first smile you've shown him, the first you've done in God knows how long- and you nod as you promise him you will. You don't know how it will work or where it will lead, if anywhere, but you think you'd regret it if you didn't at least try. You miss companionship, you miss having someone to talk to, you miss smiling and the feeling of comfort and joy that comes from being close with someone who understands and knows you. You don't want to let this opportunity to have someone in your life slip you by.

Hyunjin's heart jumped when you smiled at him, and he returned the smile brightly as he said his goodbyes, heart still thumping and smile still plastered on his face as he descended the trellis. He looks back to the window, waving to you when he sees you watching from between the curtains, a giddy feeling building in his stomach when you wave back. Following the dirt road away from the manor, he meets back up with Chris at the carriage, happily relaying everything that happened to him on their way back to the castle.

You retired to your bed once Hyunjin was out of sight, but found it hard to sleep following your interactions. Curled up under the blankets, eyes closed and heavy, ready to sleep, but mind racing and replaying the night's events. There's a chance that this is a mistake, but you don't think you'll regret having taken the chance- because the hope and joy you feel now is the most delightful feeling you've experienced since you were a girl, and that feeling alone is worth whatever trouble it may bring your way.

It's hard to explain in words the emotions that come from having Hyunjin close to you. From having just a few short months ago gone from spending your nights restless from loneliness, to now lying awake in bed wondering if tonight will be one of the nights you hear his tap on your window. Going from hardly ever speaking a word, to now talking so much that your throat aches. To never feeling the warmth of another, to lingering touches and reluctant parting of held hands heating your skin.

You suppose what you can say is that it feels like the hole in your heart is being mended; a void wrenched open by loss and sadness slowly repaired with each clandestine meeting you share. It's bittersweet, sometimes; your melancholy was easier to ignore when you didn't have someone to share your thoughts and feelings with. It’s strange, how gaining what you were missing makes the bad in your life hurt much worse. It awakens a new fear within you- that one day, Hyunjin will tire of you, and you'll be alone once more.

As if knowing your fears, irrational or not, Hyunjin makes it no secret how he feels about you, or what he hopes the two of you may become. Besides, the very reason he first came to the manor was to answer a marriage proposal- so of course he makes it clear how much he likes you. And though you're aware of his feelings, you don't feel any sort of pressure or expectation from him, nor does he ever make you uncomfortable. You get the distinct impression that should you ever reject him, Hyunjin would move on gracefully, even if it weighed heavily on his heart.

All that being said, he hasn't blatantly asked you to be his bride yet, though it is obvious he wishes to. And putting aside what is rational, proper, or logical, you don't think you'd turn him down were he to ask you now. Hyunjin has become the highlight of your days, the hope that keeps you going when loneliness and sadness acutely strike you. He's radiant and intelligent and effortlessly witty; and you can still remember the way his eyes lit up the first time he made you laugh.

You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing too loudly, and Hyunjin's eyes crinkled as his smile beamed. He told you it was the prettiest sound he'd ever heard, that happiness suited you much more than sadness, that he hoped you'd smile and laugh more than you'd frown. And you think as long as you're with him, that'll be an easy promise to keep.

You've confided in him much of your life, your thoughts, and your feelings. He's an attentive listener, as well as empathetic and compassionate. And while you're sure to most it's the bare minimum, it felt nice to be listened to for once; to cry openly without being ignored, or mocked on the off chance you were acknowledged. It was nice to be held and gently consoled as you let out years worth of pent up tears flow out, though by the end you were always greatly embarrassed by your red eyes and puffy face.

Hyunjin, who wasn't fond of your step-mother from the start, liked her even less after you'd explained what you'd gone through following the loss of your father. It was interesting, as well as vindicating, hearing in detail his first impression of her, and how accurately he pin-pointed her personality and motivations. He told you he was used to dealing with people such as her, and his ability to nail her down was proof enough of that.

That's why he likes you, he said; likes that you're nothing like your step-mother, or step-sisters, or the countless other people he's met that hold the same motivations and values as them. There was no denying that his attraction to you started with your appearance, he admitted so himself right from the start, but you believe him when he says he's not superficial enough to marry for looks alone.

Whether you're as pretty as he says you are is still a matter of contention within yourself, but you try not to reject the compliments; especially not when he speaks them so earnestly. You don't find yourself special, but maybe it's enough that he does. And you recognize that everything about your relationship with Hyunjin is unconventional, but you don't dwell much on it.

You never would've had the chance to meet someone normally, and you welcome the solace and joy he brings you just by being near. When you think further upon how close the two of you have become, you wonder if words like "friend" or "companion" are enough. You wonder if this is what it means to be in love, if longing and desire and joy are really as hand in hand as they were always portrayed in your novels.

His tap on your window comes earlier than you expect it to today, elation spreading through your veins instantly as you rush to the window to open it for him. Normally, Hyunjin doesn't come to you until the sun has long since fallen, but tonight he arrives while the last specs of sunset still linger on the horizon. "You're early," you comment simply, a small smile spreading on your lips as he steps his way inside to your bedroom.

"Couldn't wait anymore," he replies, meeting you with a soft smile of his own. Summer brought with it longer days, which meant longer waits for Hyunjin to arrive at your window, and less time spent together before he had to rush back to his home. He pulls you into an embrace, gentle and warm, and you squeeze him tight for a small moment before you allow yourself to melt in his arms.

His hands rest comfortably on your back, lingering even as you pull slightly away to look up at him. "Your hair has gotten longer," you muse, taking a soft strand into your hand and admiring it between your fingers. "Has it?" he asks, having not noticed himself; it's hard to notice subtle changes considering he sees it everyday. "Do you like it?" he follows up, ever so slightly tilting his head as he awaits your answer.

"I do," you reply as you let it fall from your fingertips, now letting your hand fall to his shoulder, "it's pretty." He hums in response, smile turning bashful. Since becoming more comfortable in his presence, you speak your mind more openly, which also means he receives more compliments from you. There's a shyness that lingers, a blush often overtaking your cheeks after an admittance of finding him pretty, or handsome, or beautiful, but it never stops you from saying what you truly think.

Hyunjin is used to receiving compliments; and it's not meant to sound vain, but that's the reality of being the prince. And because he is used to them, he is normally unaffected by such words; but with you it's different. He isn't blind, of course, he knows he's conventionally attractive- but it's the intent of the words that matter. Unlike others he's met, you are genuine and sincere. You don't speak with ulterior motives, you don't say things unless you earnestly mean them.

So, when you say he's pretty, he takes great pride in it; because you aren't saying it out of a sense of obligation or gain. You just like him, and he likes you- that's all there is to your interactions. The affection you share is the realest thing he's ever felt, refreshing and authentic.

You know he's the prince, though he hasn't yet told you himself; you overheard your sisters speaking about it to each other just a few days after their arranged meeting. They were by your door, loud voices carrying and infiltrating your space. You think you were meant to hear it- vain and confident in themselves as they are, you suspect they wanted to rub it in that one of them would marry the prince.

Not that you cared- unbeknownst to them, you already met him yourself, and you’re the one the prince really shows interest in. And his identity shocked you at first, but as you thought about it more, it made sense; his impressive carriage, his elegant attire, the way he carried himself and spoke, why you thought you recognized his family crest- it all clicked.

Given all you've learned about him, what he thinks about the world and what he values, it makes sense that he wouldn't tell you right away, and you don't hold it against him. Going your whole life questioning the motives of others, and perceptively picking up on their dishonesty.. it must be hard. You can't even imagine it.

In turn, Hyunjin can't imagine how hard your own sufferings have been, his heart aching terribly for you whenever you put your sadness to words. There's a strange sort of comfort that comes from it however; your lived experiences being so entirely different, but aligning in just a way that leads you to understand one another.

Still, there were many times that Hyunjin wished the solutions to your problems were easy- that he could just use his authority as prince of the realm to give you your life back. Unfortunately, he thinks his interference would only make things worse for you; wish as he may that he could simply order your step-mother to be kinder to you, there's no way he can do so without great risk to your well-being.

It's frustrating and saddening to realize how little his power can do to help the one he cares most deeply for. There were equally times he wishes he could just take you away from all that hurts you; but until you either agree to wed him, or he becomes king after marrying another, he has no authority over who may or may not reside in the castle.

His greatest hope, of course, is that you'll wish to marry him. He doesn't even want to think about the devastation that will be wrought upon him should you reject him. You like each other, that much is true and plainly obvious, but marriage, especially to someone destined to rule, may not be something you want. And besides that, he's always wanted his marriage to have real affection tied to it- and until he knows definitively where your heart lies, he will be patient.

Though they sound like complaints, Hyunjin actually loves the progression of your relationship. Yes, it saddens him that as things stand now he can't remove you from the source of your pain or change things, but there is an equal amount of good that has come from his experiences climbing to your window.

His heart beats fast and erratic whenever you look at him and smile, your soft, small giggles and sweet laughs make his ears and face burn pleasantly. It doesn't always show, given his natural charisma and learned manners, but you fluster him more than you realize. His brain stutters when you compliment him, his body crawls with goosebumps when you initiate a hug or hold his hand, he unconsciously holds his breath when your face ever comes slightly too close to his own.

Though his father still urges him to bring home a bride sooner rather than later, he has managed to quell his father's worries by describing his affection for you. It's also what allows him to regularly leave the castle to meet you, with Chris himself also attesting to how genuine the prince's infatuation for you is.

And it's moments like this, when you're in his arms and looking up at him with your soft doe eyes and sweet smile that he feels the urge to kiss you the most. Before he can think about it much longer, you're separating from his hold, grabbing his hand and leading him to your bed with a softly spoken, "Shall we?"

It's your routine when he visits to sit or lie in your bed together, talking endlessly until the time comes that he has to depart. Sometimes you fall asleep, in which case he just indulges in the feeling of holding you close, stroking your head until the chirp of birds begins with the start of the sunrise, alerting him it's time to go.

Sometimes talking is too hard, and all you want is to feel him close and let your negative feelings wash away in his hold, and let them be replaced by his warmth. Sometimes you run out of things to say and simply enjoy each other's company in comfortable silence. Oftentimes, Hyunjin just being in your space with you is all you need to be happy.

There's an unspoken hope there that you share- that someday soon you'll be able to fall asleep together, to wake together, to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, for every moment to be spent with the person that rouses your once dormant heart. There’s still part of you that questions if you can really be loved by someone as good as him, but it’s what you hope for more than you’ve ever hoped for anything.

"Wait-" Hyunjin calls softly as you begin to step towards the bed, and you stop, turning back to look at him with a curious tilt of the head and questioning eyes. He swallows, beginning to lose his nerve as you stare at him. He wants to tell you how badly he wants to kiss you, to ask if it's something you'll allow him, if you crave it as much as he does.

"What is it?" you ask, squeezing his hand when you feel the slight anxious tremble. His face reddens, and he internally curses himself for having such difficulty. He once felt it was entirely unlike him to be reduced to such shyness, but you bring it out of him with just a look. "I just.. uh, well-" he starts, but before he can get much further, you hear a sound from the hallway that makes you jump.

"Shit-" you mutter in a harsh whisper, the sound of a metal object clinking just outside your door. Hyunjin doesn't realize what it is just yet, but the sound is one you can instantly recognize- it's the sound of your step-mother taking the padlock into her hands. You scramble to push Hyunjin in the direction of your bathroom as you hear the lock begin to turn, afterwards standing near your open window as calmly and naturally as you can manage.

Hyunjin doesn't have any time to think about what's happening, or to dwell on the sound he heard outside your door before he hears it start to swing open. All he can do is hide himself behind your bathroom door, and pray that whoever is entering your bedroom has no reason to step inside your bathroom.

Your step-mother enters your room with suspicion clear on her face, looking around the room with narrow eyes and scrunched brows. You take a quick, cautious glance towards your bathroom, relieved to notice that Hyunjin isn't in immediate sight. Thank God, you think; you don't know how she'd react to seeing the prince inside your bedroom, and you don't want to find out.

"Who are you talking to?" she asks, taking a stern step closer to you. You swallow down your nerves the best you can as you prepare yourself to answer- you can't give her any reason to suspect you're lying. "I was talking to the birds," you answer, pointing to where a nest of them rests on the tree nearest to your window.

The family of birds are settling in for sleep now that the sun has sunk, and you hope your step-mother finds it believable enough that you'd talk to them as they ready themselves for bed. Her eyes follow where you point, easily spotting the birds beginning to tuck their heads down, and she scoffs. She could've sworn she heard another voice replying to you but.. that'd be impossible, wouldn't it? Who would even be here talking to you?

Yes, though she hates to admit when she's wrong, she was likely just mistaken. The other voice she thought she heard was likely just you supplementing a conversation you wish you could be having with another person. There were never two people- just you, and the lonely life she inflicts upon you. So she smiles, condescending as ever as she speaks, "Yes, well. I suppose that's all you can do."

Your step-mother takes one more cursory glance around your room before she decides she's satisfied and turns to exit your bedroom. You breathe a sigh of relief when she finally steps out the door, and Hyunjin steps out from your bathroom just as the sound of the lock on your bedroom door clicks shut. He recognizes what it is more clearly after hearing the sound of the lock a second time, and his heart sinks at the realization of what that sound means.

"Hyunjin?" you whisper in question as he walks right past you, heading straight for your closed bedroom door. He takes the doorknob in his hand, twists it and pushes the door- and what he feared to be true is immediately confirmed. The door doesn't open, harshly stopped as the lock clanks against the door from the motion of it trying to be opened- you're locked in. Why are you locked in?

When he turns back to you, you say nothing; just look at him with those deeply saddened eyes that twists his heart into knots. "You're.. are you always locked in your room?" he asks, though he dreads the answer- and he suspects he already knows. You feel as if you'll sob if you speak, so you don't- you just nod.

His heart sinks to the pit of his stomach, a complex mix of sadness and rage on your behalf beginning to boil in his veins. He knew your step-mother to be vindictive, vain, materialistic, mean, but this.. It was a cruelty positively unheard of, and he couldn't fathom why anyone would have so much hatred in their heart as to resort to this.

He clenches his fists, takes a breath, tries to quell the intensity of his anger before he steps back to you. Your eyes have fallen to the floor, head hung low, hands balled into fists. Hyunjin softly calls your name once he's returned to your side, and you look up at him, eyes glassy as you blink away the tears that try to form. He wraps his arms around you, pulls you to his chest and hugs you tight.

Your reaction is delayed, the complex whir of emotions dulling your senses, but you eventually return the hug. You hold him the tightest you ever have, your hands gripping and bunching the fabric of his linen shirt. Carefully, Hyunjin leads you to your bed, where he knows you find the most comfort. You crawl into bed as soon as he pulls back the blankets, practically curling into a ball as soon as your head hits the pillow.

Hyunjin lies next to you, pulls the blankets up to your chests once he's settled, holding you once more after you move in closer. You press yourself close to him, curling your limbs around his, clinging to him in a desperate need to stay as close as possible. Head pressed into his chest, he softly strokes your head, whispering comforts to you until he feels your body begin to lose its built tension.

Now more than ever, Hyunjin is firm in his belief that he can't let things stay this way- there has to be some way he can use his power to help you. He doesn't want to walk away after knowing the true depth of all that you suffer, he wouldn't forgive himself if he did. Again, he calls to you softly, and when you look up at him he asks, "Do you want to leave? Get away from here?"

You blink, processing the question and wondering how you should answer. Unfortunately, the answer isn't an entirely simple yes or no. The truth is, you wish you didn't have to; this is your father’s manor, the house you grew up in, and though you've suffered greatly since his passing, you find it hard to let go of the happy memories that came before the tragedy.

Despite that, even if he were still here now, it is true that you'd have to leave eventually; you'd marry someday, and married women always leave their childhood homes behind when they wed. Still, when you think of never seeing the manor again, of never returning to your childhood bedroom or talking again with the maids who helped raise you, you feel impossibly sad.

You wish you didn't feel so tied to your home, but it's hard to let go, even when you know it is what's best for you. Additionally, when you did let your mind wander and think about what sort of life you'd lead if you ran away, you realized you were impossibly scared of the world. You've been locked away for so long that you don't remember the way to the places you once recognized, all your connections have been severed, and getting to the castle city, even if you did remember the way, would take days on foot.

Add the fact that you'd have no money, and no way to prepare food for the trip without getting caught, you never let yourself entertain the thought of running away past the occasional frivolous daydream. Sure, you could climb from your window and leave without getting caught, but you could never convince yourself that it was worth trying.

But now you have someone, don't you? Someone who cares about you, who would help you find your way in the vast world you've been kept away from, someone who doesn't want to sit idly by and let you suffer any longer. All you've done since meeting Hyunjin is hope- and the more you look at him and see how vividly he cares, you think that maybe your hope isn’t misplaced. That maybe the life you’ve always wished for is actually obtainable if only you just try.

"If I leave.. where would I go?" you can't help but ask now that you are entertaining the thought of fleeing from the source of your suffering. Realistically, you know there is no way you can do this without Hyunjin's help, and you're sure he knows this too, but you don't want to ask too much of him. You're thankful to have him to rely on, but you don't want to impose- so it's imperative to you that he offers first, so that you don't feel as if you're burdening him.

"Stay with me," he offers without any hint of hesitation, "even if we never wed, even if you never desire me the way I desire you, stay with me." Hyunjin takes your hands in his, squeezes them in his as he continues, "I promise, you’ll never have to suffer again as long as you are in the castle. Please, leave this place with me.”

Your heart skips and stutters, emotion crawls back up your spine and pricks your skin, hitching your breath. And shit, Hyunjin realizes what he just said- he got ahead of himself, and brought up that he lives in the castle. He wanted to admit the truth of his identity carefully, but now.. well, he supposes if you agreed to leave with him, it would've come out tonight regardless.

Still, he stutters as he tries to explain himself- how it was never intended to be a lie he kept from you. How he doesn't often have the chance to meet people who don't already know his status so when you didn't recognize him, it made him happy. How he enjoyed that you could talk to him without pretense, how refreshing it was to him and how it was exactly what he needed, what he'd been looking for.

You smile, even giggle a bit once he gets really deep into his spiraling ramble of explanations. He stops then, nervously giggling back when you squeeze his hands and tell him to slow down, that you understand him completely. "I knew," you tell him after a moment, "well, not the whole time- I didn't find out until later. But I didn't bring up that I knew because it didn't change anything for me. I never cared that you're the prince. To me, you're just Hyunjin."

God, the relief that spreads through his body at your words- a massive weight has lifted from his shoulders. And the confusion you felt about why someone like him could ever fancy you so much- you feel like you understand more now why he likes you, and it helps ease the burden of your self-doubt. You sit up from the bed, looking down at Hyunjin with a timid, yet eager smile.

"Let's go," you tell him, and he quickly sits up with you, a bright smile of his own plastered on his face. "Right now? You're sure?" he asks, trying (and failing) to hide the excitement in his voice. You nod, and he positively beams, ready to help you with everything you need. You don't have many bags, much less ones suited for travel- so you settle for choosing the largest of them all.

Hyunjin helps you back the things you can't bear to part with; old gifts from your father, sentimental pieces you can't bear to part with, the blanket your mother knitted for you when you were still growing inside- you stuff your bag to the brim with your most precious belongings. It's heavy by the time you're done, and Hyunjin takes it and slings it around his shoulders, promising to treat it with care until it's delivered safely to the carriage. "Are you ready?" he asks after you both approach the window, and you pause, turning around to take one last look at your bedroom.

Once you leave, you'll never be back, and with that comes strange, new and complex feelings. But you think it's more than past time you left this place behind, and made a new place your home- a place where you are free to be happy and to exist without guilt. "I'm ready," you affirm as you turn back to the window, and Hyunjin smiles and nods, giving your hand one last reassuring squeeze before he lets it go to climb out of your window.

Hyunjin steadies his weight on the trellis, and you lean out of your window to check how far down the ground is- and shit, you might be afraid of heights if the way your stomach drops is any indicator. "I'll wait for you at the bottom," he tells you after noticing the apprehensive look in your eyes, and you nod with an anxious swallow. Hyunjin has done this a million times at this point- you can do it too! No problem!

Of course, Hyunjin makes the climb look effortless, but you suspect you won't have nearly as easy of a time climbing down. Once he's finished his climb, he takes a few steps back to see you clearly when he looks up, smiling at you encouragingly. You take a breath to steel your nerves before you take a cautious step out of your window, carefully finding your footing on the trellis before adding your weight- the same way you saw him do it.

You descend much, much slower than Hyunjin did, impossibly terrified of losing your footing and falling to the dirt below. When you finally reach the bottom, you let out a massive sigh of relief, and Hyunjin pulls you into a hug, beaming as he squeezes you- he's proud of you, you think.

His joy adds to your own, so much so that you can't help but show it. Leaning closer, standing on the tips of your toes, you kiss his cheek- a way to tell him thank you, to show him how much you like him, and to convey how happy you are with him. He blushes ever so slightly as his smile grows, a giddy feeling once again building in his stomach.

"When all this is behind us, and you're safe at the castle with me.. Can I kiss you?" he finds the courage to ask, your face flushing as you smile and nod. "I'll look forward to it," you tell him, and you raise your pinky to him, intending for it to be a promise. With a soft chuckle, he interlocks his pinky with yours, happily solidifying the promise.

"This way," he tells you shortly after, separating your pinkies to take your hand in his, and lead you to where the carriage awaits him down the dirt road, and away from the manor. You take a final glance back at it as you walk with him, whisper goodbyes to all the things you'll miss, to your father most of all.

As the carriage comes into sight, it really sets in how real all of this is- how with this night, your life will become completely different. You wonder how everyone will react when your maids enter your room in the morning and find that you aren't there- part of you is sad you can't bid them goodbye personally, but you hope they'll be happy for you and wish you well.

You hear the coachman call to Hyunjin's attendant as you step closer, informing him with surprise in his voice that he is back earlier than expected- and with you. His attendant, who you know as Chris, and have heard many stories about, steps out of the carriage with an almost bewildered expression. He certainly wasn't expecting this to happen tonight.

Hand in hand, Hyunjin continues to lead you up to the now open door of the carriage, with Chris standing next to it. "Are you..?" he asks tentatively as he looks between you both. Together, romantically, you infer him to mean. "We'll discuss it later," Hyunjin says, turning to offer you his usual warm, reassuring smile before he looks back to his attendant, "for now, I'd like you to formally meet the future princess."

Living in the royal castle is something you never would've believed would ever happen to you, and it became your reality in the strangest of ways. To think that a beautiful man came to your window in the night, that said beautiful man wanted to marry you, and was the prince of the realm of all things.. It was confounding how you ended up here.

There's part of you, that even having known the truth for months, still can't seem to wrap your head around Hyunjin being the prince. You suppose it comes down to knowing something and seeing something being entirely different- because though you knew, you never, until now, saw him in his element, so to speak.

Watching him interact with the world behind your small scope was as enlightening as it was affirming; you saw a new side of him, but it was a side that was still firmly Hyunjin. He was eloquent but opinionated in royal discussions, he was kind and grateful to his workers, he was stern when something needed done, but never cruel or overly demanding- again, all you could think was that he’s perfect.

Was Hyunjin getting ahead of himself when he introduced you to his attendant as the future princess? Maybe. But though you haven't said it aloud, you think you fell for him harder since coming to the castle; and being the princess, while a stressful endeavor that requires you to intensively study politics and speech, will be worth it to stay by his side.

The parts of Hyunjin you've come to love the most are the parts you realized are reserved only for very few to see- the part that is wittier than political discussions will allow, who is secretly a bit dramatic when things don’t go his way, a hopeless romantic who clings to the ideals of literature.

And further beyond even that, are the parts of Hyunjin that are for you, and you alone; where natural charisma melts away into bashful sincerity. Whose soft, affectionately spoken words are said with an equal mix of earnesty and boyish timidity. Whose graceful confidence is intermixed with the subtle complexities of shyness and the seeking of your approval.

All these aspects combined are what make him so special to you, and you will be forever grateful that after all the suffering you’ve endured, you are allowed to love someone as good as him, and are loved by him in return. And thanks to his help, not only do you live a life you could have only ever dreamed of, but are adjusting quite well to that new life.

Some things are the same, such as having kind maids who helped you settle and attended to your needs, but then there were things that were entirely different from the life you lived before. You have your own attendant now- a sweet boy that Christopher vouched for named Felix, who Hyunjin affirmed you would be able to trust with your life, as he does with his own attendant. And truly, Felix did quickly become someone you felt like you could rely on and trust; oftentimes, he feels more like a best friend than a royal attendant.

Though he makes sure you stay on top of your studies, and fulfill all tasks you need to have done, you can also easily spend hours giggling away about various things- like how Chris is so serious but also a secret softie underneath, about your relationship with Hyunjin, about Felix’s secret crush that he hopes to confess to after preparations for your wedding to Hyunjin are concluded.

It’ll still be some time before that day comes, as apparently the king is sparing no effort in making it an extravagant event to remember- his only son is being wed, after all; it’s worth the kingdom celebrating to the fullest extent possible. You try not to think about the life you left behind, but you often wonder if your step-mother and sisters have connected the dots between your disappearance from the manor, and the announcement of the prince’s wedding.

If not, she’s certain to realize once the day has arrived; because all reputable families of the kingdom are invited, and she never turns down a royal invitation. The offer to rescind their invitations came up, of course, but you declined- because there’s a part of you that sincerely wants this to strike your step-mother in the core of who she is, and make her reflect on herself. And if it doesn’t, well.. You’ll find some satisfaction in seeing her appalled and infuriated that you’re thriving despite her meddling in your life.

Currently, you and Hyunjin still reside in separate rooms because unwed couples sharing a bed before marriage is deemed inappropriate- not that either of you care; it doesn't stop Hyunjin from sneaking to your room at night, in much the same way he did when you lived back in your father's manor. Sneaking across balconies, quietly climbing over each and every banister until he reaches your room- it's a far cry from the "proper" way a prince is expected to behave, but when it comes to the whims of his heart, he pays no mind to such expectations.

What was once a knock at your window is now a careful tap to the glass of your balcony door, where Hyunjin stands and waits with a shy grin for you to greet him. You never lock the doors, as you're sure he knows- but regardless, he always waits for you to come and let him in yourself. It's just the same tonight- he softly knocks and waits, smiling when he sees you rise from your bed to come to the doors.

"My darling," he greets you sweetly when you open the door, taking your hand and kissing just above the knuckle as he bows to you. You've experienced the greeting what feels like a hundred times over at this point, but it never fails to raise goosebumps on your skin; especially when he looks up at you and smiles before he straightens his back and stands tall once more.

Instead of inviting him inside, you step past the door to stand on the balcony with him, the cool breeze refreshing after having dealt with the heat of the late summer sun prior. He wraps you in his arms, wasting no time in tilting his head down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. His lips on your always fill you with just as many butterflies as the first time, his hands finding their way to your waist causing you to shiver.

"I've missed you," he breathes against your lips before he kisses you again, and you hum as you return the kiss, wordlessly agreeing with the sentiment. Preparing for the wedding makes you both incredibly busy these days, from dress fittings to studying in your case, and readying to ascend the throne in Hyunjin's.

With hardly any free time to yourselves, this is how Hyunjin ensures he gets the chance to spend at least some time with you. Sneaking over to your room, no matter how exhausted the day has made him, because now that you're in the castle with him, he can't go a single night without seeing you, feeling you, at least just once.

And normally, he would follow such a kiss with conversation- ask about your day, what you did and how you're feeling, what preparations for the wedding were done today, etcetera. But for whatever reason, right now he just wants to keep kissing you, over and over again, for as long as you'll allow him.

Maybe it’s because the last few nights he hardly got to see you for more than a few moments, leading to greater longing. Maybe it’s because the wedding looming closer makes the reality that you’re together feel so much more real- you’re his, and he’s yours, and there’s so much beauty in being in love, in promising that you’ll remain together no matter the years that pass or challenges that come.

Your arms wrap around his neck, your body pressing closer into his, and it’s almost criminal how much that simple of an action makes his head spin. You’re a clingy lover- not that Hyunjin minds by any means; he loves it, in fact. He loves feeling wanted and desired by you, and the way you crave and seek out his touch; the problem, so to speak, is the way his body reacts to your close proximity. It’s.. an indecent reaction- one that he has to do his best to contain, lest he do something improper and act gracelessly.

Still, you tempt him- with doe-eyed looks, pouting lips and gentle caresses to bare skin. He desires you, wants to lay your bare and look upon every inch of your body, to feel you naked beneath his fingertips- but he can’t, not yet. And so instead, he has to make a conscious effort to not linger on such thoughts, to swallow them down until the time is right. But the more time he spends with you, the more difficult a task it becomes; and now, after having gone a handful of days not being able to see him for more than a few passing moments, you cling to him more than usual, making the need inside him impossible to ignore.

You drive him utterly crazy with a simple touch- and he wonders how much of it is a conscious decision, and how much is executed simply by instinct. Do you realize just how deeply you affect him, or do you act purely on what feels good and right to you? Maybe it’s an equal mix of both- enjoying the effect you have on him, but also thriving in the euphoria that touching him makes you feel.

You haven’t gone much further past passionate kissing and idle, yet purposeful, groping of each other’s bodies, as Hyunjin tries his best to be proper and “follow the rules”- in which having intimate relations whilst unwed is wildly improper, and against everything he’s ever been taught. But when the wind blows your robe partly open, and he sees nothing underneath but your soft white lingerie, he can’t help but recall that such rules have always been pointless to him.

Hyunjin has always followed his heart before considering consequences and what is "right." So, if you're in love, if you want each other more than words, if you know you're going to be wed soon anyways, why should he hold off from following what his heart desires? Nothing about your relationship with one another has ever been conventionally proper, nor followed pre-established rules and notions, so why hold himself to such things now?

Do you think and feel the same as him? He suspects you do, but tonight he intends to find out for sure instead of wasting any further time questioning the depth of your intent, and considering conventional rules above his feelings. His hands squeeze your waist as he turns you both around, pressing your backside against the sturdy balcony banister, the sound of surprise that leaves you muffled by his lips that have still yet to part from yours.

"I want you," he says after pulling away from your lips, though still close enough for you to feel his breath directly on your skin, "more than I fear is allowed." There’s a fear there- that the depth of his longing is entirely one-sided, that the way in which he craves you goes unrequited, that the longing you feel doesn’t go past its current boundary.

Hyunjin rests his forehead against yours, eyes staring straight into yours in a way that makes you feel equal parts vulnerable and warm. "Do you want me too?" he asks carefully, setting aside his nerves and uncertainty, his hands trailing over where the wind tousled your robe and exposed your shoulder.

"Say no, and I'll stop right now. We'll move on as if this never happened until you're ready to discuss it," he continues, hand pausing where the strap of your bra lies, uncovered thanks to your partially fallen robe, "but I need to know- if I am allowed to want you as badly as I do, and if you return these feelings." He watches your reaction attentively, unconsciously holding your breath as he waits for a hopefully favorable response.

You swallow, heart nearly beating out of your chest as you open your mouth to speak, and you're certain that Hyunjin can feel the goosebumps rising on your skin- goosebumps that exist solely because of him, and not at all from the late night chill. "I want you too," you respond, and you can see the way relief and excitement wash over him. A million promises and "thank you"'s linger on his lips, but instead of speaking them aloud, he pours them into his kiss, letting his body do the talking for him.

His hand travels away from your shoulder, down towards your waist, where your robe is held together with a loosely tied ribbon. The anticipation makes you shiver, and when you feel the knot come undone, you pull away to allow him the chance to look at you. It's utterly nerve wracking being this exposed, and you don't feel the least bit confident in yourself- but at the same time, you know how much Hyunjin reveres you, and so you want him to look.

While it's still a struggle to believe all that he sees in you, you know this is something he'll sincerely love. From the very moment your touches started to become more intimate he has craved this sight of you, and you grant him the opportunity to stare as much as he wishes to. You leave him breathless for a moment, and for quite possibly the first time, you watch in real time as something shifts inside of him.

The look in his eyes changes, first from awe as he unconsciously sucked in a breath, to utmost, almost overwhelming desire. He takes you in his arms and lifts you up, and you instinctively cling to him with a surprised squeak. His hands hold you up from under your thighs, and you wrap your legs around him while tightly holding his arms. He places you on the thick banister, and you shiver when the cold iron makes contact with your skin through the thin material of the robe you’re wearing.

He kisses you with fervor, his tongue sliding past your now parted lips. Comfortable with your position and Hyunjin’s strong hold on you, you move your hands from his arms to his face, holding it as you invite his tongue further inside your mouth. One of his hands continues to support you and hold you close to his body, while the other slips your robe further down, until it falls down your arms and pools at your elbows.

Another breeze rolls by, and you shiver once more, this time fully feeling the chill. Your thin, almost sheer lingerie does nothing to hide how hard your nipples have gotten, allowing Hyunjin to see them clearly when he pulls away from your kiss and glances down. He licks his lips as he stares at them, lets his free hand move away from your legs and up to your chest, palming one of your breasts over the thin fabric of your bra.

You gasp when his fingers brush your nipple over the fabric, and Hyunjin drinks in the way your body reacts to the near overwhelming sensation his fingers grant you. Your hands fall back to his shoulders, gripping them tightly as your body squirms. "Does it feel good?" he asks, this time watching your face as he rolls your nipples between his fingers, attentively watching the way your face changes.

Biting your lip and closing your eyes as you nod, your legs instinctively try to close together but are unable to due to his place between them. The soft, near whiny gasps you let out are intoxicatingly sweet, a sound Hyunjin could easily imagine himself becoming addicted to. He kisses you again, lingering on your lips and briefly muffling your whines before he trails down your jaw and to your neck, where he places wet, open mouthed kisses.

His touch makes you hot- so much so that the cool breeze no longer affects you the way it had moments prior, your shuddering coming solely from the way he's making you feel. He slips a hand inside your bra, touching your nipple directly now, the pad of his thumb rubbing over it in rhythmic strokes. He can feel your thighs tremble and squeeze him, still desperately trying to close together, driven by the innate need to seek friction.

You don’t outright say you need more, but your body does more than enough to tell him- and so Hyunjin dips his hand further down, slowly traveling between your bodies, over your stomach until it reaches its destination between your legs. He doesn’t know what to do, really- but he’s nothing if not a romantic at heart, and he lets that guide him onward. Following the romantic fantasies that often played in his head, he brings his lips back to yours, sensually kissing you as he rubs your heat over your panties.

It's so wet- much more than he ever could've anticipated. The fabric, that was already so thin and nearly sheer to begin with, has become almost entirely see through and now sticks to you uncomfortably (though Hyunjin’s hand is proving to be a perfect distraction from the discomfort.) His own fingers become slick even without direct contact, and it excites him as much as it drives his curiosity. What do you taste like? Is it okay for him to find out, or is that too far?

He wants to know, desperately wants to know- “Can I taste you, please?” he asks in a soft, pleading tone; it’s okay if you say no, he’d never question your limits, but fuck, he really wants it. You let out a breathy, eager “yes,” to which he responds with the most breathtaking smile. You watch with bated breath as he begins to trail kisses down your torso, leaving a few lingering touches to your nipples and stomach on his way down.

Hyunjin helps you slide off the banister, hands securely on your hips and guiding you forward, closer to him. He completely kneels down in front of you, presses soft kisses to your inner thighs as he guides one of your legs to rest over his shoulder. You lean back against the banister, your hands holding it for support while his hands rub over the back of your thighs and to your ass. He holds you there, occasionally squeezing, and you can feel him smile against the meat of your thighs when it causes you to squirm in his hold.

You watch his tongue dart out from between his lips, wetting them before he finally brings his face closer to your center, giving you a curious kitten lick over your panties. That alone is enough to make you jolt, and he squeezes you a bit tighter in response, trying to help you stay still while he explores the newly accessible parts of your body.

He can’t think of a single thing he could compare your taste to, but he loves it, an involuntary noise of pleasure rising from his throat. He quickly grows dissatisfied with small, careful licks- he needs more of you on his tongue, needs to taste you directly. But rather than separating from you and wasting precious time getting your panties off you, he decides it's a better idea to simply pull them to the side.

Your balance falters for a moment when he moves his hand away from your behind to shift your panties out of his way, but he’s quick to bring it back and continue to hold you once his tongue has once again met your core. Your grip on the railing tightens, head falling back and eyes fluttering closed as you let out a low moan. You never expected to be experiencing your first time with something like this outside, on your new balcony of all places, but you can't deny that it excites you.

It's fun, exhilarating, almost freeing- something that would've forever eluded you had you not met Hyunjin, and fallen in love with him. And oh, you’ve never felt anything as good as his tongue between your folds. You divert your gaze back down, mesmerized by the sight of him between your quivering thighs, and he too is mesmerized- by your taste, by the way you drip on his tongue, by the way you gasp and cry out when his tongue finds your clit.

He alternates between swirling his tongue around it, and giving you long, flat licks, both of which drive you crazy with need for more. You try your best to not let your noises get past a certain volume, teeth digging into your bottom lip almost painfully, hands desperately clutching at the banister as your body involuntarily trembles. It doesn't take long for Hyunjin to find the pattern you like, what motions cause you to cry the loudest despite your desperate attempts to contain yourself.

Your stomach rapidly tenses and contracts, your moans quickly turning into high-pitched whines as you’re driven closer and closer to release. You’re dizzy, mind practically floating with immense pleasure, your hips unconsciously rolling into his face as you seek sweet, blinding relief. Hyunjin’s cock throbs painfully in his trousers, straining against the fabric that has now grown tight around him, but he ignores it, completely focused on you.

He looks up at you from between your legs, watches the rapid rise and fall of your chest as you take desperate, panting breaths, sweating clinging to you in an ethereal sheen. You take one of your hands off the banister, instead burying your fingers into Hyunjin’s long hair. He groans against you, unexpectedly enjoying the way you slightly tug on the loose strands.

The feeling in the pit of your stomach grows in intensity, your eyes rolling back as he flattens his tongue and lets you grind against it as you please. You let go of his hair when you feel your orgasm start to peak to clamp your hand over your mouth, wanting to avoid waking the entirety of the castle with your moans if you can help it.

He squeezes you once more, does his best to hold you upright as you lose yourself to the feeling. It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, the tingling that starts in your spine spreading throughout your entire body, as mind numbingly euphoric as it is overwhelming. He doesn’t separate from you until he feels your thighs relax and legs go limp, carefully removing your leg from its perch on his shoulder, holding you steady as he rises back up to his feet.

It takes you a moment to return your senses, only just barely registering Hyunjin talking to you as you blink away the fog of pleasure muddling your brain. He’s asking things like if you’re okay and if it felt good, grinning when you nod and answer him with meek affirmations. When he kisses you, you can taste yourself on him, and it somehow adds to just how amazing you feel.

It’s in that moment, where he’s stroking your cheek while kissing you, tongue exploring your mouth and sharing the taste of your release with you, that you decide you want to return the favor. Mirroring what he’s done to you, you let your hands wander his body until they meet the waistband of his trousers, where you slowly undo the buttons. His breath hitches when you sink to your knees, anticipation rising in tandem with his nerves.

Will you like what you see? It’s not something he’s ever worried about before, but now he finds himself awaiting your reaction anxiously. Wanting to spare him the late night chill, you don’t pull his trousers and underwear all the way down, instead just pulling down enough for his cock to spring free of its confines. And, wow- it’s much longer than you expected, as well as mouth-wateringly pretty, the vein running along the length utterly entrancing to you.

Pre-cum leaks steadily from the tip, and you curiously stick out your tongue to taste it as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He hisses and softly gasps, twitching and throbbing in your hand that is so much softer than his own. You quickly move on from small, careful and curious licks to swirling your tongue around the tip, sometimes stopping the movement of your tongue to press wet kisses to it.

His pre-cum smears over the tip and all over your lips thanks to your kisses, and it’s easily the most erotic thing he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing. And God, when you look up at him through your lashes as you kiss him, your pretty lips wet and glistening because of his release- he has to make conscious effort to not let out a visceral groan.

After a few more soft, wet kiss, you open your mouth and flatten your tongue, leaning forward on your knees, using your hand to guide his cock into your eager mouth. His body shudders as he groans, the more you take of him into your mouth, the more he struggles to restrain himself. Hyunjin leans forward, grabs the banister for support while he watches you try to work him in past your limits- taking him in until you gag, retreating just long enough to recover before resuming, trying to take him further than last time with each attempt.

Tears prick the corners of your mouth, threatening to fall with each additional inch taken down your throat, but you refuse to concede. He brought you such unimaginable bliss- and you’ll do anything to make him feel the same. Just as Hyunjin had done, you proceed purely on instinct, staring up at him as you finally succeed in taking his entire length into your mouth. And fuck, the sight of you- how is he supposed to retain composure after seeing you like this?

Grip on the railing tightening, his eyes roll back when you start bobbing your head along his length, the sound of his cock sliding back and forth in your mouth creating impossibly salacious wet sounds. Saliva drips from the corners of your mouth, down to your chest and thighs, but you continue on, paying no mind to the mess you're making on yourself.

For the first time, you hear Hyunjin speak with an utter loss of composure- no smooth charisma, no eloquently crafted line of dialogue; just pure, pleasured rambling. "Darling, I can't- feels so good, I-" he cuts himself off with a curse, biting his lip as he feels you caress his throbbing vein with your tongue. He’s never felt so good before, and he’s so close- but what is he supposed to do? Release in your mouth? Is that even okay?

He intends to ask, opening his eyes to look at you as he does, but oh- the sight of you instantly causes the words to die in his throat, the sight of you paired with pleasure he feels is just too much for him. He cums with a moan, loud and pretty, his cum gagging you as it shoots straight down your throat. You pull away seconds later, releasing him from your mouth with a pop, swallowing the cum that lingers on the back of your tongue as you wipe your lips clean with the back of your hand. You look up at him next, taking in the sight of your normally elegant lover looking so debauched. He’s breathless and utterly disheveled, but still so impossibly perfect.

Hyunjin helps you to your feet after he’s collected himself, pulling you into an emotionally charged, sensual kiss; lips parted, tongue seeking yours. He lifts you up once more, deciding that both of you have spent more than enough time on the balcony, continuing to kiss you even as he carries you inside your bedroom. It makes the walk more precarious, but neither of you care, absorbed in one another as you are. And maybe you should feel some amount of shame for having pleasured one another in such an open space, but it’s the furthest thing from your minds.

All that matters is Hyunjin; how he makes you feel, and how you make him feel. Lying you on your bed as gently as he can manage, he finds his place between your legs as you fall to your back. His hands find the waistband of your panties, and you lift your hips to help him slide them off your body. Your robe is the next thing to be removed in your flurry of impassioned kisses, followed by your bra, and all of Hyunjin’s clothes.

“Love you so much, my darling,” he breathes against your skin between his kisses to your lips, hands roaming your body, “want to be inside you.” You pull away enough to see him clearly, your eyes finding his even in the dark of your room. “I want it to,” you admit softly, heat rising to your face, “I love you, Hyunjin.” He smiles, brief and timid, before he kisses you again, slipping one of his hands between your thighs to feel your heat with his fingers.

He rubs his fingers between your folds, and you let out a shuddering breath, body trembling with anticipation. You’re still so wet, and Hyunjin can’t help but involuntarily groan when he imagines what you’ll feel like wrapped around his cock. He takes his cock in his hand, smears your essence along it to get it wet, glancing up at you after he aligns himself with your hole. You look apprehensive, and he’s immediately worried you’ve changed your mind and want him to stop-

But when he offers, you quickly shake your head. You’re nervous, that much is true, but you want this- everything you experience with Hyunjin is new and beautiful, and you’re certain this will be too. And every time you’ve been hesitant, or scared, or anxious, he was there for you; he held you and listened to you and helped you find not only the courage to be where you are now, but your self-worth too. You love him, you trust him- and what better way to show him the depth of your love and trust, than to offer yourself to him, body and soul.

With one last affectionate kiss, a softly spoken promise to always take care of you, he begins to slowly push inside you. You both gasp, sensitive from your prior orgasms, the effect profound even before he’s all the way inside. There’s a slight discomfort at first that quickly gives way to tingly pleasure across your body, the sensation effectively stealing the breath from your lungs. Hyunjin clenches his jaw, breath growing more labored, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you even when his body is completely still.

He leans back down to you once your hips are flush together, wraps his arms around you, pressing your body against his. You wrap your arms around his neck, while he holds you under your shoulders, kissing you as he experimentally rolls his hips into yours. Each roll of his hips is slow and purposeful, as is each kiss you share. You understand now, why sex is often referred to as making love- because there can truly be no other way to describe the moment you share, and the feelings that come with it.

When he pulls away and looks down at you, his heart races even faster; you’re so pretty, beautiful- with your hair fanned out around you, the moon shining through your balcony doors highlighting the sheen of sweat in the most ethereal way. All he can think about is how much he loves you, how lucky he is to have you, how good you are to him. You’re perfect, utterly perfect in every conceivable way- and he knows you’d say just the same about him, would still find new ways to compliment him once you ran out of words.

Despite the languid pace, it doesn’t take long for Hyunjin to feel close again- he’s already cum once, and the sensitivity he feels from it in combination with the way your walls squeeze him is impossibly overwhelming. He squeezes you closer, his chest pressed against yours, his face burying its way into your neck. You can tell how close he is, from the way he twitches and throbs inside you, to the way he gasps and moans close to your ear.

Wanting to cum again with him, you move your dominant hand between your bodies, finding your clit with your fingers. When Hyunjin feels what you’re doing, he separates from you enough to watch, looking between your bodies to watch the way your fingers move. Your walls start to squeeze him tighter as you work yourself close to your release, and he can’t help but groan, hips picking up speed as he chases his orgasm with you.

Your noises grow louder once he picks up his pace, and you’re sure the guards outside your room have realized what’s happening- but neither of you can bring yourselves to care about containing yourselves anymore. You cum in tandem with one another- Hyunjin first, a strained groan of your name passing his lips as his cum shoots deep inside you, the feeling of it sending you over the edge with him.

Both of you are breathless and hot, with hearts thumping the hardest they ever have, but he kisses you regardless, paying no mind to his desperate need to catch his breath. He brings one of his hands to your face, caresses it as he kisses you, and still after he pulls away. He looks at you with such pure affection, soft admissions of love and tender care softly spoken for only you to hear.

Even after he carefully pulls out, he sticks close to your side, holding you close in his arms, refusing to leave you to go back to his own room. This is his place now- with you, listening to your soft breaths and stroking your head as sleep begins to take you. His own eyes quickly grow heavy, your warmth inviting, and he knows he’ll soon fall asleep with you. He whispers his affections, his love for you and how happy he is, knowing that this night is just one of many perfect nights you’ll continue to share in the future.

network tags: @skzstarnet @ksmutsociety

#ksmutsociety #skzstarnet #skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #skz smut #hyunjin smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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morningmarionette · 4 months

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new layout new me

#mari rambles #i was gonna add a quote from annabel lee as my header but everyone ignores the way he speaks abt annabel in the last stanza #and goes for “we loved a love that was different from love” and not #“my darling- my darling- my life and my bride”#OUGH #so no quote for me #also realized i might never be loved in the way i wish to be loved because my love has alr been loved OUGH #does any of this make sense? its too early for shitposting and im not even on instagram i need help

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space-mango-company · 2 months

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Stranger | Chapter 1

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Summary: The Atreides daughter is sent off to Giedi Prime to marry the Harkonnen heir in an attempt to quell the feuding Great Houses. The bride, however, must prove her grit and earn the respect of her new family if she is to survive her new life. Perhaps she will find that she had more Harkonnen in her than she thought.

TW: none (for now)

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (just not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, cannon what cannon

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Please bear with me, it has been ages since I've written anything and this is my first ever work of fanfiction. I've never written in the second person before so if you catch any mistakes, especially in verb tenses, please let me know. English is not my first language. Also, this might start out a bit slow but I promise things will pick up soon.

The smell of grass and the crashing waves of Caladan brought you comfort as you stood before the starship that had been rented from the Spacing Guild.

Your brother had insisted on accompanying you to Giedi Prime, but a round trip would have been unnecessarily expensive, even with the vast wealth of your Great House. Besides, it would be foolish to deliver the heir of House Atreides to the home world of their sworn enemies. It was bad enough they had to send you there.

"Give them hell," Paul teased as he hugged you goodbye.

You laughed, but you knew his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He had faith in your strength and ferocity, but he had much less faith in the hospitality of the Harkonnens.

"I'll miss you," you pull away and try to give him a reassuring smile but you, yourself, are not so certain of your fate.

You made your way to your mother, next in line to bid you farewell.

"Remember your training." Lady Jessica held your face and planted a tender kiss on your forehead. She had already given you all the advice she could.

You take her hands in yours and kiss them. "I will," you tell her solemnly.

You finally make it to your father, whose eyes are already welling with tears.

"My darling princess," his voice cracks as he lays a hand on your cheek. The Duke may seem a stoic man to most, but those who truly knew him knew he had a big heart.

Perhaps it is because you are one of those people that you finally feel that weight in your chest that you've been dreading since the signing of your marriage pact. It will be a truly long time before you would see your family again. If you could ever see them at all.

The Duke waves at an attendant who approaches with a silver tray. Leto takes the dagger resting on it and places it in your hands. "To remind you that you will always be an Atreides, that you will always be my daughter."

You let your tears fall as you hold the gift close to your chest.

"Don't cry now," your father pulls you into a hug, hoping to hide his own tears, "or I might never let you go."

You let a laugh slip through the sobs. You knew it was already decided and it is your duty to fulfill. The Sisterhood and the Emperor himself endorsed the match. Nothing could change it now.

The harsh light of Giedi Prime's black sun assaulted your eyes as you made your way down the starship's gangplank. The stark, high-contrast black and white made everything a pain to look at. You were thankful for the veils of your travelling gowns for providing you at least some shade.

You were greeted by House Harkonnen's steward, Jaromir Naggul, and swiftly led into the imposing, Brutalist fortress of their stronghold. You were almost happy to escape the infrared outside.

"Your belongings are being sent to your new quarters as we speak," Jaromir, a lanky but stately man, informs you. "You may change out of your traveling clothes and rest there. The Baron will receive you in the throne room in the afternoon."

You note his accent and the mild contempt in his voice, as if you were an inconvenience.

"This is Iassa," he gestures to one of the servants that had been following you through the halls. "She is your assigned slave. Should you need anything, you may tell her."

The word almost knocks the breath out of you.

You eyes turn to Iassa in her pale gray robes and you give her a polite nod. She hastily curtsies in return.

You knew the Harkonnens and even the Emperor kept slaves, but you suppose it never occurred to you that you would be charged with one yourself.

"Of course," Jaromir continues, "any of the servants in the fortress will be at your command, but Iassa will be in waiting for you in particular."

"Of course," you reply coldly.

"You will be staying in the guest wing for now," Jaromir says as he shows you the door to your quarters. "Of course, until your wedding. When you will then be moved to the na-Baron's apartments."

"...of course," you repeat, grateful again for your veils that they hide your dread.

You are silent as Iassa helps you into a black gown for your audience with the baron. It is the fashionable color in the Harkonnen home world. Although there were many other 'fashionable' traits on Giedi Prime, this was the only one you felt comfortable adopting right now. The complete lack of hair in every individual you had seen was certainly unsettling, but you sensed it would be rude to speak about it.

"What is the na-Baron like?" you ask.

Iassa pauses her fastening of your dress, she swallows. "He is a fearsome warrior, my lady," she keeps her gaze averted, "handsome and popular with the people."

Her voice was shaky but she seemed genuine. You only wonder if those words hold the same implications here as they do back home.

You look over to Iassa as she fetches your shoes. It's not difficult to see that she fears you. You cannot help but feel that that is all there is. You are still an off-worlder. An Atreides no less. She harbors no respect for you.

You take care to style your hair in the fashions of Caladan, fastening a falcon-like pin at the back of your head. The symbol of your house. Perhaps it is a risky choice, to be seen as defiant by the baron should he notice, but you could already feel the black sun beginning to drain the life out of you. The thrill of quiet defiance would have to sustain you for now.

Jaromir returns in time to fetch you and you are led to the throne room.

The baron's grotesque floating body looms over you and his subjects. You had never met any of the Harkonnens before but you were sure that was him.

"Welcome to your new home, Lady Atreides," the Baron utters your last name with thinly veiled loathing. "Let me present my nephew, Feyd-Rautha."

A tall muscular young man steps forward. Stately and regal as a Harkonnen could be, he looks over you with condescending eyes.

He certainly looked like a warrior, and you could see how the people of Giedi Prime could find him handsome, but you find yourself wanting to spit in his face.

"Forgive me for not greeting you when you landed, my lady," the na-Baron bows to you. His gravelly voice sends a chill down your spine, "I was preoccupied at the time. I trust you have settled well?"

You curtsy in turn, "I'm sure my lord had important duties to attend to. I am grateful for your hospitality. My rooms are very comfortable."

"Do not find them too comfortable young lady," the Baron calls from afloat his chair, "your wedding celebrations are to begin and you will be sharing rooms with my nephew before long."

Feyd-Rautha smirks at this and you are almost willing to cast decorum aside to slap it off his face.

"Tomorrow, your groom will take part in the arena to demonstrate his prowess as a worthy husband and leader, as per the traditions of our house," the Baron announces. "I'm sure you will make a point to attend."

"I would not miss it, dear Baron."

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha smut #dune #dune part two #house harkonnen #house atreides #leto atreides #lady jessica #paul atreides #baron vladimir harkonnen #duke leto atreides #austin butler #jessica atreides #space-mango-company #fic: stranger

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peavhyshy · 3 months

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𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗬𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡. (oneshot)

Pairing: Prince!Rafe Cameron x Princess!Reader

Summary: Royal/Arranged Marriage AU - in which you find yourself thrust into an arranged marriage with a handsome yet unpredictable prince.

Warnings: mild language, explicit language, period typical language, dubious consent, smut, angst, fluff, suggestive/sexual language, power dynamics/manipulation, classism, misogynistic behavior, possessive behavior, traditional gender roles/expectations around marriage, character development, rough sex, oral sex, fingering, dominance and submission, hair-pulling, marking/biting, and unprotected vaginal sex

Words: 10,863

a/n: this has been in the works for a while, it's kind of long but I hope you enjoy and I also want to make blurbs for this on the side because I didn't want to make this into a series with parts because that too much work and I'm lazy.

Outer Banks Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Honeymoon (song it's based off by lana del rey)

The sunlight filtered through the windows of the lavish bridal room, its gauzy white curtains blowing softly in the afternoon sea breeze. You stood before the three-way mirror, your dress and hair only half done as your friends flitted around you, pinning and primping. Your eyes looked anxious despite your gentle smile.

"I don't know if I can do this, girls," You fretted, brow furrowed. "Rafe seems so...intense. And our families barely know each other! What if he doesn't like me?"

From behind you, Sarah chuckled as she twisted your long curls into an elegant updo. "Trust me, my brother likes what he sees well enough. He may be a cocky jerk sometimes but he could do way worse."

Kiara added dryly from the window seat, "Yeah, like get stuck with somebody boring instead of a kind heart like you. Try to relax. Just be your sweet self and I'm sure you'll win him over."

You sighed. "I'll try. It's just all so much pressure, you know? An entire life and future riding on a few short hours." You turned to peer at your reflection, barely recognizing the woman in the gown. "Do you think I look okay? Not too plain?"

Your friends assured you with smiles. It was almost time. For better or worse, Rafe Cameron would soon be your destiny. You steeled your nerves and prayed this royal match may prove to be no prison, but a partnership made in heaven.

You held your breath as your mother swept into the room, eyes scanning your gowned figure in the mirror with a practiced critical eye.

"Hmm. The dress is adequate I suppose, even if a touch too modest," Lady Smith observed. Her gaze shifted to your face, tightening slightly. "And do try to look a bit happier, darling. A man does not want a sullen bride, no matter her dowry. Remember - you are representing our entire family today. Do strive to be pleasant."

You swallowed back a sigh. "Yes, Mother. I will do my best to charm Prince Rafe and make us all proud."

Your friends' faces radiated empathy. Even they knew how rigorous Lady Smith's standards could be. But then the older woman surprised you all with the barest hint of a smile.

"Have faith, my dear. A marriage is what you and your husband choose to make of it. Now, come - it is nearly time. Chin up and smile as if you've won the lottery. Which, in a way, you have."

With that, she whisked from the room, leaving you to draw a steadying breath. Your friends gave encouraging smiles and squeezed your hands. This was it - for better or worse, your future began now.

The ceremonial hall was awash with sparkling lights and fragrant flowers as dusk fell. Rafe stood tall by the altar, tugging irritably at his stiff collar. His gaze roamed restlessly over the assembled guests while Rose droned on beside him about proper etiquette.

"And remember to look her in the eyes when you say your vows," Rose nattered. "The audience will be hanging on your every word."

Rafe scoffed under his breath. As if he gave a damn about any of these stuffy traditions. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ward approaching, lips pursed in that familiar disapproving frown.

"Try to pay attention, son," Ward rumbled, handing him a small scroll. "These are the terms your betrothed's father expects you to agree to. Mind you, hold up your end of the bargain."

Rafe scanned the endless stipulations with a curl of his lip. As if he was some prize mare to be sold to the highest bidder. But he knew better than to argue.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, tucking away the scroll. His gaze fell on Wheezie's small form near the front, watching him with wide eyes. At least one Cameron was on his side, the innocent little dove that she was.

The trumpets sounded then, signaling the bride's arrival. Showtime. Straightening his uniform jacket, Rafe pasted on his most rakish grin and steeled himself to meet his political match.

His gaze drifted to the double doors at the end of the hall, anticipation and annoyance battling within him. No doubt some meek little flower they'd chosen to shackle him to for the sake of power and status. Still, a small part of him was curious to lay eyes on this Y/N Smith his advisors claimed would make such a perfect royal match.

When the doors swept open, Rafe straightened and schooled his features into a haughty mask of indifference. But the sight that met his gaze gave him pause. There, being escorted down the aisle on your father's arm, was a vision in ivory silk and lace. His brows lifted in surprise at the beauty gliding toward him with eyes demurely downcast. This was his intended bride?

The closer you came, the faster Rafe's pulse raced. Your cheeks were flushed, lips painted pink. Your curls spilled over your shoulders, begging to be toyed with. His gaze roamed lower, taking in the enticing curves and dips of your figure through your gown. A slow smirk spread over his face. Perhaps this evening would prove more enjoyable than anticipated. By the time you lifted your gaze to meet his at the altar, Rafe's ice blue eyes gleamed with heat and the thrill of the hunt. No meek flower here - only a rare, exotic bloom ready to be plucked. And if your quick intake of breath was any indication, the feeling just might be mutual. Excellent.

Rafe's smirk widened at your reaction, noting the pretty blush that rose to your cheeks. His gaze swept over you appreciatively as you took your place beside him, leaning close to murmur in a low, husky tone for your ears alone. "Well now, aren't you a tempting morsel? I do believe I'll enjoy unwrapping my gift later this evening, Mrs. Cameron." His eyes flashed suggestively at the way your breath caught, enjoying how flustered you seemed by his proximity and blunt words. Perhaps the little dove wasn't quite so meek after all. All the better.

Rafe barely paid attention as the pompous old minister droned on, too focused on watching emotions flit across your expressive features. Annoyance, uncertainty, even a spark of temper in those fathomless eyes. His new bride was no giggling debutante, that much was clear. When the time came to recite your vows, his were short and to the point. But the words he chose made your gaze snap to his in surprise.

"To have and to hold, for better and worse, as long as we both shall live. I vow to worship you with my body, protect you with my sword, and share with you all the spoils of my conquests. You are mine, now and always." His thumb brushed your wrist in a possessive caress as he slid the ring onto your finger. "With this ring, I pledge to you my heart, and swear you shall never want for passion."

Rafe couldn't resist adding in a husky undertone as the minister pronounced them man and wife, "Pucker up, princess. Time for the fun part." His arm slid around your waist and he dipped you dramatically, sealing your vows with a searing kiss as your audience erupted into raucous cheers.

Your eyes went wide as Rafe's arm wrapped around your waist, and before you could protest his lips descended onto yours in a scorching kiss. Your first instinct was to squirm away, unused to such public displays of affection - but his strong arms held you in place, and after a moment you found yourself melting into the kiss. By the time Rafe lifted his head, Your cheeks were flaming and you were breathless.

Rafe's smug chuckle brought you back to yourself. "Cat got your tongue, wife?" He teased, eyes gleaming. You huffed, straightened and attempted to smooth your disheveled hair and gown.

"Must you always be so…so…" You struggled for the right word, and Rafe quirked a brow.

"Charming? Irresistible? I can't help my natural talents, love."

You rolled your eyes. "I was going to say incorrigible."

Rafe laughed, the sound rich and warm. "Ah, there's that spark I've been waiting to see. Don't worry, I'll have you swooning in my arms soon enough."

"You're certainly confident in yourself, aren't you?" You remarked dryly. Rafe's grin only widened.

"With good reason. But come now wife, no need to be shy." He leaned close, breath fanning your ear. "The bedding ceremony awaits us, unless you'd care to give our guests a show right here?"

You gasped, shoving at his chest though your heart raced at his words. "You're despicable!"

Rafe caught your hand, bringing it to his lips. "All part of my charm, princess. Now, shall we?" He offered his arm, eyes dancing with mirth at your discomfort.

You huffed, pulling your hand away. "Must you be so arrogant and crass? There are proper ways to speak to a lady, as I'm sure you know."

Rafe's grin only widened at your annoyance. "Proper is boring. I prefer to speak my mind, and right now it's full of how ravishing you look in that gown. Can you blame a man for being eager to peel it off?"

Your cheeks flamed at his bold words. "You forget yourself, Your Highness. We've only just met."

Rafe leaned close, breath hot on your ear. "We're man and wife now, pet. No need to stand in the ceremony." His gaze swept over your figure appreciatively. "I always get what I want, and right now that's you in my bed. But we'll take things slow…at first."

You bristled at his arrogance, grasping for a retort, but found yourself speechless. Your heart raced with a mix of irritation, anticipation and uncertainty. You knew your duty here today, had steeled yourself for a political match and indifferent spouse. But Rafe Cameron seemed determined to sweep you off your feet, whether you willed it or not.

Rafe chuckled at your loss for words, offering his arm. "Come, the revelry awaits us. And after…" His eyes gleamed suggestively, "The real fun begins."

You swallowed hard, slipping your arm through his. Your mother was right, this marriage was what you chose to make of it. But something told you life with this wickedly charming scoundrel of a prince would be anything but boring. For better or worse, your destiny was sealed - and as Rafe led you into the cheering crowd, you couldn't deny a thrill of excitement amid your doubts. Your story was only just beginning.

Rafe guided you into the lavish ballroom, nodding at the trumpeters to announce your arrival. As the first strains of a lively waltz filled the air, he turned to you with a roguish grin and swept you into his arms.

"Time for our first dance as husband and wife, princess. Try not to swoon, I know I'm irresistible." Rafe's eyes gleamed with mirth at your huff of annoyance, though you had little choice but to follow as he led you in the steps of the dance. His hand rested scandalously low on your back, holding you close as you spun and dipped across the floor.

By the time the music ended, You was flushed and breathless in his arms. Rafe smirked, enjoying your flustered state, but before he could tease you further a throat cleared behind them.

"If you don't mind, I'll take over from here."

They turned to find your father, Lord Smith, eyeing Rafe sternly. Rafe gave a curt nod, handing you off to the grim-faced man.

"Of course, father-in-law. I was merely warming her up for you." Rafe's sly undertone earned him a reproachful glare from you before you allowed your father to lead you in the next dance.

Rafe stood back, crossing his arms over his chest, when Rose appeared at his side. "Must you provoke her so? She is your wife now, try to be kind."

Rafe scoffed. "She knows my nature well enough. Life would be dreadfully boring without challenges." His gaze drifted back to you, a smile tugging at his lips when you dared a glance in his direction. Rose sighed, patting his arm.

"Be gentle to her.” Rafe's gaze landed on Ward approaching, lips pursed in disapproval as usual. Before his father could lecture him, Rafe turned to your mother with an exaggerated bow.

"Lady Smith, your daughter is a vision. I trust she'll make a fine princess." His charming smile didn't reach his eyes.

Lady Smith's gaze was coolly assessing. "Indeed. Do try to behave yourself, Your Highness. My girl is gentle bred and undeserving of your…roguish tendencies."

Rafe's smile turned wolfish. "Not to worry, I'll be on my best behavior. In public, at least." His suggestive undertone made Lady Smith's eyes narrow.

"Mother, must you provoke him so?" You sighed as you rejoined them. Your gaze shifted between Rafe and your mother anxiously.

Rafe chuckled, sliding an arm around your waist. "No need to fret, princess. I was merely exchanging pleasantries with your charming mother."

Ward's voice rumbled behind Rafe. "If you're quite finished, the receiving line awaits you both."

Rafe suppressed an eye roll, turning to greet his younger sisters. Sarah's gaze was assessing, while little Wheezie beamed up at the newlyweds.

"You look so pretty, Y/N!" Wheezie gushed. "I hope you'll still come visit me, now that you're a princess."

You smiled, bending to embrace the girl. "Of course, whenever I can. And you must come see me too."

Rafe watched the exchange with a mix of fondness and annoyance. His littlest sister had always been too softhearted. But seeing your sweet nature with Wheezie gave him hope this match may not prove entirely intolerable.

Ward cleared his throat, Rafe bristled at his father's impatience, but couldn't fault Wheezie's enthusiasm. His littlest sister had always been too softhearted for her own good. Still, seeing your sweet smile as you embraced Wheezie gave Rafe a flicker of hope this match may not prove entirely intolerable. If you could win over even his most skeptical family members, you just might stand a chance.

Rafe turned to his father with a mocking bow. "As you wish, Your Majesty. Mustn't keep the adoring masses waiting." His sarcastic tone earned an eye roll from Sarah, ever the voice of reason. Rose simply sighed, patting Rafe's arm as he passed.

"Behave," she murmured. Rafe just chuckled, offering his arm to you.

"Shall we, wife? Our public awaits." You glanced between your families anxiously before accepting his arm. Rafe patted your hand, pitching his voice low. "No need to fret, pet. I don't bite…hard." His roguish wink brought a blush to your cheeks.

As you made your way to the receiving line, Rafe found his gaze drawn again and again to your expressive features. Your reactions were simply too amusing. While your guests and courtiers showered you with congratulations and well wishes, he watched emotions flit across your face - uncertainty, annoyance, even curiosity. His new bride was an open book, though your courteous smiles revealed none of the thoughts behind your fathomless eyes. Rafe was determined to unlock all your mysteries, one by tantalizing one.

Rafe allowed you to guide him to your seats at the head table, though his gaze strayed often to his friends at a nearby table. Topper and Kelce were regaling each other with tales of previous sailing adventures, no doubt in anticipation of the race Rafe had every intention of winning. His competitive nature chafed at being stuck here making polite conversation when he could be out on the open water.

You seemed to sense his restlessness, offering a gentle smile as you tucked a napkin into Wheezie's lap. "There now, all tidy. I do hope you'll save room for dessert, little dove."

Wheezie beamed up at you, her new sister-in-law. "I will! Cook always makes the best cakes. Are you excited for your wedding trip?"

Your smile turned rueful. "I suppose so. Traveling somewhere new is always an adventure." your gaze flitted uncertainly to Rafe.

Rafe snorted. "Adventure is what I live for, pet." His gaze swept over you boldly. "Though I daresay our wedding night will prove enough of an adventure."

Your cheeks flamed at his innuendo, gaze darting to Sarah in appeal. Sarah rolled her eyes at her brother's antics. "Honestly Rafe, must you be so crude?"

Rafe just chuckled, leaning back in his seat as servants began delivering the lavish courses of their meal. His attention drifted often to his friends, ignoring the disapproving glares of their parents discussing terms of the marriage arrangement. There will be time enough for politics and responsibility tomorrow. Tonight was meant for revelry and chasing whatever pleasures caught his fancy. And at the moment, his new bride was proving an intriguing diversion.

His gaze slid back to you, watching as you laughed with Sarah and Wheezie. Rafe picked at the lavish dishes set before him, paying little mind to the chatter around him. His gaze kept straying to you, noting how animated you seemed speaking with Sarah and Wheezie. At least his sisters appeared taken with his new bride, if the way they hung on your every word and laughed at your silliest comments were any indication. Their obvious delight gave Rafe hope this match may prove more tolerable than anticipated.

Still, his restless nature chafed at the forced pleasantries and pomp of this grand occasion. He longed to be out sailing with his crew, chasing the thrill of adventure on the open sea. As if sensing his wayward thoughts, Kelce leaned around Topper with a sly grin.

"When's the race, man? This fancy shindig is dreadfully dull."

Rafe smirked. "Patience, Kelce. We set sail at first light, and not a moment sooner. Wouldn't do to abandon my own wedding feast, as tempting as it may be."

Topper chuckled. "Think of the gossip that would stir. The new princess, jilted on her wedding night by a scoundrel of a husband!"

Rafe snorted. "As if I'd miss unwrapping that particular gift." His gaze slid suggestively over your figure, lingering on the curve of your neck and the stray curls that had escaped your elegant updo. Anticipation thrummed in his veins at the thought of finally claiming his passionate new bride.

Kelce followed Rafe's gaze with a grin. "Can't say I blame you, mate. Seems you've landed quite the prize, for a political match."

Rafe's smile turned wolfish. "Aye, and she'll make a fine figurehead aboard my ship."

Topper laughed and Rafe's attention kept straying to you, watching as you chatted and laughed with his sisters. Your sweet smile and gentle manner seemed to put even the most hesitant guests at ease. Though he'd never admit it aloud, Rafe found himself grudgingly impressed by your poise and social graces. You were clearly in your element, greeting courtiers and chatting with servants alike as if you hadn't a care in the world.

A nudge at his elbow drew Rafe's gaze to Kelce, who had abandoned all pretense of propriety and was lounging in his seat with a goblet of wine in hand. "So when's the real party start, eh mate?" Kelce grinned with a suggestive waggle of his brows. "Looks like you landed a lively one. Bet she's a wildcat behind closed doors."

Rafe snorted, taking a swig of his own wine. "Wouldn't you like to know. A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."

"Since when are you a gentleman?" Topper scoffed from Kelce's other side. Rafe shot him an obscene gesture, earning chuckles from his uncouth friends.

"Perhaps we'll have to arrange a private showing for you two scoundrels. I'm sure my bride would be delighted to entertain." Rafe's sarcastic remark was rewarded by Kelce's bark of laughter.

"Now that's an offer I might take you up on!" Kelce's eyes gleamed with mischief as they drifted to you. Rafe's gaze narrowed, a spark of annoyance flaring to life.

"In your dreams, mate. This one's all mine." Rafe's arm shot out to grasp Kelce's shoulder in a bruising grip, smile turning dangerous.

'So, Rafe what's your plans with my lovely Y/N?'' Your father asks.

Rafe's gaze snapped to Lord Smith, who was eyeing him expectantly across the table. He suppressed a scowl at the interruption, forcing his grip on Kelce's shoulder to relax as he leaned back in his seat.

"I plan to show the princess the time of her life, of course," Rafe replied with a roguish smirk. "Starting with a grand tour of my kingdom. She shall want for nothing as my wife."

Lord Smith's eyes narrowed slightly. "See that she doesn't. My daughter is gentle bred, and I'll not have her spirit broken by some scoundrel of a husband."

Rafe bristled at the insult but kept his tone light. "Not to worry, father-in-law. Your daughter is in capable hands." His gaze slid suggestively to you, watching in amusement as you seemed to sense the scrutiny and glanced between them uncertainty.

Lord Smith snorted. "Capable of chasing anything in skirts, so I hear. I warn you now, if any harm comes to my daughter through your…philandering ways…"

"You have my word as a gentleman," Rafe cut in through gritted teeth. "Y/N shall remain untouched by scandal. My duty is to her and her alone now."

Lord Smith seemed unconvinced, but gave a curt nod. "See that you remember that. She is still young, and deserves a chance at happiness." His stern gaze swept over Rafe in assessment. "Do not make me regret this match."

Rafe shrugged off the threat, patience already wearing thin. "If there's nothing else, I believe I shall steal my bride away for a dance." He stood abruptly, pushing back from the table to stride around its length and offered you his arm with an exaggerated bow.

"May I have this dance, princess?'' *Rafe turned back to Lord Smith with a mocking bow and dangerous smile. “Not to worry, father-in-law. I always take excellent care of my possessions.” His suggestive undertone brought a scowl to the older man’s face.

Before Lord Smith could retort, Rafe grasped your hand and tugged you from your seat. “Come, wife. I’ve been patient long enough.”

You glanced uncertainly between Rafe and your father. “But, the toasts…”

“Can wait.” Rafe’s grip on your wrist tightened, brooking no argument. Your gaze narrowed at his peremptory tone but you allowed him to lead you onto the dance floor.

Rafe smirked at your obvious annoyance, spinning you into a lively waltz. “You’ll have to get used to obeying my commands, pet. I’m not a man who takes no for an answer.”

You huffed, attempting to pull away, but Rafe’s arm around your waist held you in place. “Unhand me, you arrogant beast!”

Rafe chuckled at your fruitless struggles, leaning close to purr in your ear. “Now is that any way to speak to your husband, wife?” His breath fanned hot on your neck, and Rafe felt a thrill of satisfaction when your breath caught. “Best get used to my beastly ways, pet. The night is young, and I’ve only just begun to claim what’s mine…”

You gasped at his audacious words, cheeks flaming. “You forget yourself, Prince Rafe!” Your protests only made Rafe’s wicked grin widen.

“Not at all, princess.” His eyes gleamed with heat and the thrill of the chase. “I know exactly who I am, and what I want.”

As the final courses of the lavish meal were cleared away, Rafe turned to you with a roguish grin. "Well wife, time for your tour of our kingdom. I have a surprise for you." He signaled to a nearby servant, who approached with a bow. "Take the princess for a turn about the grounds and gardens. Show her all our kingdom has to offer."

The servant nodded. "As you wish, Your Highness." His gaze slid to you with a familiar smile. "Your Highness."

Your eyes went wide with recognition. "JJ? Is that really you?" You grasped the servant's hands eagerly. "Oh, it's wonderful to see you! I had no idea you were working here."

Rafe lifted a brow, not having anticipated this happy reunion. Evidently his bride and this JJ Maybank were already acquainted. "You two know each other?"

You smiled. "We grew up together, before JJ's family moved into the city." Your gaze shifted between Rafe and the servant anxiously. "I do hope it's alright for us to catch up…"

Rafe waved a hand dismissively. "By all means. You're free to go where you like, I have other matters to attend to at the moment." His gaze slid pointedly to where Kelce and Topper were already deep in their cups, toasting loudly to his good fortune. You followed his gaze, cheeks coloring slightly.

"Thank you, husband." Your courtesy seemed strained. Rafe simply inclined his head.

"Enjoy your stroll, princess. I'll come find you later this evening, there are more…private celebrations in store." His suggestive tone brought a blush to your cheeks as he strode off to join his friends.

As JJ led you through elaborate gardens and courtyards, your anxiousness gave way to delight. "Oh, it's so lovely here! All these flowers, and fountains…I can see why you enjoy working in the palace gardens."

JJ smiled, patting your hand. "Aye, it's peaceful work. I'm glad to see a friendly face, even under these circumstances." His gaze turned sympathetic. "How are you faring, Y/N? I was worried when I heard of this arrangement."

You sighed. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. Prince Rafe is…not at all what I imagined." your brows furrowed, uncertain how much you dared confide in your old friend.

JJ snorted. "No doubt. He’s got a reputation for being wild. But don't you worry, I'll keep an eye out and make sure he treats you well."

You smiled at his protectiveness. "Thank you, JJ, but I'm capable of handling my own husband. It may take some getting used to, but this match could secure a bright future for my family. I have to at least give it a chance." your gaze drifted back toward the distant palace, where even now Rafe was likely carousing with his friends.

JJ followed your gaze, brows pinching with concern. "Just…promise me you'll be careful. There’s a dangerous streak in him. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I appreciate your concern." You squeezed his arm. "But Rafe is my husband now, for better or worse. I have to make my own judgments, and hope this marriage becomes more than just political."

JJ sighed, realizing your mind was made up. "You always did see the good in people.”

You nodded and bid JJ farewell with a wave and a promise to visit him again soon in the gardens. As you made your way back toward the palace, a young maidservant approached and curtsied.

"Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but it's time to prepare you for the evening. If you'll follow me, please."

You nodded, allowing the girl to lead you to an elaborate set of chambers. Your eyes went wide taking in the lavish space, draped in silks and velvets of deep red and gold. At the center was an enormous canopied bed, and adjoining the main room were a dressing chamber and bathing room aglow with the light of a crackling fire.

The maidservant curtsied again. "The prince bid me draw you a bath and help you...prepare for the evening, Your Highness. Please, disrobe and I'll assist you."

You blinked at the girl, cheeks heating at the implication. You were no stranger to the wedding night obligations awaiting you, but to have it stated so boldly...

With shaking fingers you began removing the heavy layers of your wedding gown, aided by two more maidservants who appeared. In a matter of minutes you stood in just your thin shift, anxiously clutching the fabric as the servants poured steaming water into an ornate tub and added fragrant oils.

The lead maid turned to you with a gentle smile. "The water is ready, Your Highness. Do not be afraid, we are here to help you bathe and make yourself presentable for the prince's pleasure."

"You look beautiful, my lady," one maid assured her. "The prince will be most pleased."

You swallowed hard, allowing the servants to help you step out of your shift and sink into the hot, scented water. As they began bathing your hair and softly chattering about how beautiful you looked, how pleased the prince would be, your anxiety gave way to anticipation.

"There now, you look exquisite." The head maid gave an approving nod.

Your apprehension slowly melted into calm as the maidservants gently bathed your hair and skin. The warm, floral-scented water soothed your nerves, as did their soft reassurances. When they finished, you stepped from the ornate tub and allowed them to pat you dry with soft towels.

Smiling encouragingly, the maids led you into the adjoining dressing chamber. Lacy smallclothes and a gossamer nightdress were laid out atop the silken sheets. With deft fingers, the maids slid the delicate garments over your frame, then bid you to sit before the vanity while they brushed out your damp curls.

"Just a touch of color for your lips and cheeks, my lady," the head maid murmured, dabbing rouge onto your mouth. "There now, perfect. The prince will be beside himself when he sees how lovely you look."

You studied your reflection, almost unrecognizing yourself. But the muted excitement in your eyes was unmistakable. However brash he was, Rafe's obvious desire flattered your feminine pride. And despite your differences, you had to admit a spark of anticipation for what was to come.

With a last few primping touches, the maids curtsied and took their leave. Alone now, you sat perched on the edge of the bed to wait. Your heart pounded and you twisted the wedding rings on your finger. Whatever happened tonight, your life would be forever changed.

As Rafe strode into the lavish chambers prepared for your wedding night, his gaze immediately found You perched on the edge of the massive bed. The sight of you in the sheer nightdress, hair spilling over your shoulders, sent a bolt of desire through him. His hungry gaze roamed over you, taking in the rapid rise and fall of your chest, your knuckled grip on the bed sheets. Smirking, he shrugged out of his formal jacket and began stalking toward you.

"Well now, what a tempting little morsel we have here," he purred, bracing his hands on either side of you and caging you in. "You look good enough to devour, princess."

He noted how your breath caught as he traced a finger along your collarbone. "What's the matter, love?" Rafe chuckled darkly at your wide-eyed look. "Not to worry, I'll have you singing for me soon enough…"

With that promise, his mouth descended on yours in a ruthless kiss. His large hands grasped your waist, pulling you firmly against him. Breaking the kiss, he murmured hotly in your ear, "I've been waiting all night for this. To finally make you mine…"

Rafe's hands slid slowly up your sides, his gaze never leaving your wide eyes. With a sinful smirk he inched the nightdress higher, exposing more of your thighs. The tips of his calloused fingers grazed your bare hip, relishing how you shuddered at the intimate caress.

"So soft…Have you any idea how long I've waited to get my hands on this sweet body?" Rafe's husky voice dripped with lust.

With tantalizing slowness, he urged you back onto the plush mattress. The silk sheets enveloped your bare skin as Rafe's solid frame covered yours. His mouth found the frantic pulse at your throat, nipping and sucking a mark into the tender flesh.

Rafe's strong hands glided up to cup your breasts through the thin nightdress, thumbs teasing your nipples into stiff peaks. The sensation tore a gasp from your lips, only encouraging him further. Grinning wolfishly, Rafe ground his pelvis down, letting you feel the rigid length of his cock straining against his trousers.

"Feel what you do to me, sweetheart…You're mine now, to take whenever and however I please." His hungry gaze devoured you, eyes burning with lust and primal need. "Say it," he demanded. "Tell me you're mine…"

A shudder tore through your frame at the feel of Rafe's hardness grinding against your thigh. Your wide eyes flickered between desire and apprehension as his hands slid higher, rucking up the diaphanous nightdress to bare more of your skin.

"So perfect…and all mine," Rafe rasped, ducking his head to capture one nipple between his teeth. You gasped at the exquisite sting, every nerve in your body hyper aware of his Rough palms gliding over your skin. As his mouth blazed a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your quivering stomach, your nails bit into his shoulders.

"Rafe, I—" Your breathy protest was cut off with a squeak as his fingers hooked into your lacy smallclothes, tearing them off in one smooth motion.

"Shh…just feel, princess." Rafe's smirk was pure sin, eyes blazing cobalt as he nudged your thighs apart. The first stroke of his tongue against your pussy tore a strangled cry from your lips. Without mercy, be he devoured you, growling his satisfaction as your hips rocked unbidden against the delicious onslaught.

"Let me hear how much you want this." Rafe's rasping words vibrated against your aching core. Your head thrashed wildly on the pillows, coherent thought lost in a haze of overwhelming sensation. Soon you were re keening and trembling on the brink, utterly at his mercy.

The look of utter surrender in your eyes stoked the fire in Rafe's blood. His tongue lashed your stiff clit as you trembled, thighs clenching around his shoulders. So close now, teetering on the edge.

Rafe slid two thick fingers into your slick folds, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot. You wailed, arching violently as your orgasm crashed over you. Rafe groaned as your pussy walls clenched and spasmed around his pumping fingers, milking them greedily.

Grinning wolfishly, Rafe rose up over you. His heated gaze raked over your flushed, perspiring body as you came down from the high of ecstasy. "That's just a preview, darling," he rasped, fingers swiftly unlacing his trousers to free his straining cock. "Now for the main event…"

With a groan, Rafe buried himself balls-deep in one swift stroke. So tight, so wet and hot for him. He gave you no time to adjust, setting a brutal pace right from the start. Your legs locked around his pistoning hips instinctively. Your broken cries sent a vicious thrill through him.

Rafe fisted his hand in your damp curls, yanking to expose the delicate curve of your throat. His teeth sank into the tender flesh, marking what was his. "Tell me you belong to me now. Say it."

When you only whimpered and clawed at his sweat-slick back, Rafe snarled. His arms caged you in, hips snapping harder. "Say it!"

You yelp and wince when he pulls your hair whimpering and burying your face in the crook of his neck still shaking from the force and intensity of your soft lips part to whimper out.

"I’m yours, only yours Rafe…" just barely above a whisper

Your hands grip his shoulders for support, your body limps under his as you pant softly raising your hips to meet his powerful thrusts.

Rafe gentled his hold in your hair, fingers massaging your scalp in reward. You were learning. His other hand slid under your hips, angling them up to take him deeper on each brutal thrust. Your breathy pants and cries were music to his ears.

"That's it, good girl," he panted gruffly. Your compliance pleased him, stroked his dominance. He could feel your body gradually yielding, soft thighs parting wider, hands clutching him instead of pushing away. Rafe kept a relentless pace, pounding into your tight pussy as the headboard slammed against the stone wall. His mouth found yours, swallowing your whimpers in a ravaging kiss.

When he finally spilled with a shout, Rafe made certain to grind against your aching clit, determined to drag you over the peak with him. As you shattered again with a broken wail, he groaned his satisfaction. Your mingled release soaked the sheets beneath you. Rafe remained buried inside your trembling body, chest heaving he stared down at you with possessive intensity burning in his eyes.

"You're mine forever now, Never forget who owns you…"

Your head falls back breathing raggedly, wincing at the burning pain between your thighs. Your body feels used and exhausted. You blink slowly staring up at him with glazed eyes. You knew that your life would never be the same. That this man..this husband of yours would use your body as he pleased from now on. That intense stare of possession makes you shy away, turning your head and closing your eyes.

He grinned wolfishly as you shyly turned your face away, unable to meet his intense gaze a moment longer. Rafe didn't mind; your demure submission pleased him, as did the colorful marks and love bites his rough passion had left on your throat and breasts. His little wife was well and truly his now. Rafe gentled his hold, fingers almost tender as they brushed the damp curls back from your temple. He pressed a chaste kiss there before murmuring gruffly, "Sleep now, You've earned your rest tonight."

He grinned against your heated skin as you gave a whimper of relief. Gathering you close against his chest, Rafe settled you amidst the rumpled sheets. One leg draped possessively over yours, holding you pinned beneath him as his hand splayed wide over your belly. You were caught, well and truly.

As your breaths evened out in exhausted slumber, Rafe nuzzled into your tousled hair with a satisfied noise.

Early morning sunlight filtered into the lavishly appointed bedchamber, sitting up, you drew the silk bedding around your bare form as you gazed around the empty room. Aside from yourself, there was no evidence Prince Rafe had even been there save the lingering ache between your thighs. You couldn't deny a pang of disappointment he hadn't lingered to greet you this morning. Then again, perhaps it was for the best; after last night you felt uncertain how to act around your new husband.

With a sigh, you rose and donned a silk robe left draped across a nearby chaise. You made your way to the window overlooking the palace grounds, hoping the fresh sea air might clear your mind. Your thoughts drifted back to the prior evening. This marriage would require much patience and understanding on both your parts.You nurtured a glimmer of hope. With time and care, perhaps you and Rafe could build something beautiful.

After taking a moment to appreciate the ocean view, you turned and began getting ready for the day ahead. You dressed yourself in a pale blue gown left for you, simple yet elegant. After tidying your hair you ventured out into the opulent hallway in search of familiar faces.

It wasn't long before you happened upon Sarah, Wheezie, and Kiara chatting together in one of the palace's lush sitting rooms. You hesitated in the doorway, suddenly feeling shy. But Wheezie looked up and broke into a delighted smile.

"Y/N! You're finally awake, come join us!" The young girl bounded over to catch your hands, leading you inside. Sarah and Kiara both greeted you warmly as you settled onto a sofa beside them.

"We were hoping you'd surface today," Sarah said with a knowing smile. "After the…activities of last night."

You felt your cheeks heat at the implication and Kiara swatted Sarah's arm. "Oh leave her be, I'm sure she doesn't want to dwell on all that." Kiara's kind eyes settled on you. "How are you feeling today?"

You offered a shy smile. "Still a bit overwhelmed, I suppose. This is all so new." your gaze drifted around the elegant room and you exhaled. "I don't think it's fully sunk in yet that I live here now."

Wheezie took your hand, giving it an excited squeeze. "Isn't the palace marvelous? I can give you a full tour later if you'd like."

You laughed softly at the girl's enthusiasm. "I would enjoy that very much, thank you Wheezie." you felt yourself relaxing, warmth swelling in your chest to be surrounded by supportive faces both old and new. Whatever uncertainties awaited in this unfamiliar life, at least you needn't face them alone.

You smile and say "So..um..did you three hear much noise last night?" you asked embarrassed.

Wheezie tilts her head confused but Kiara and Sarah exchange a look, Kiara says "These walls are quite thick don't worry" she reassures.

Sarah smirks and says "I'm sure my dear brother was a perfect gentleman" sarcasm in her voice,

You felt your cheeks flush hotly at Sarah's teasing remark. You cleared your throat, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear self-consciously.

"Well…I mean, of course everything was proper," You stammered, avoiding direct eye contact. In truth, Rafe had been anything but a gentleman once you were alone together. The memories made you shift in your seat.

Kiara shot Sarah a scolding look before turning a sympathetic gaze on you. "I'm sure your first night together was an adjustment. But you know you can talk to us about anything, right? We're here for you."

You nodded, giving your hand a supportive squeeze. "Don't let my scoundrel brother intimidate you. He may act the rogue, but you have a strength in you as well. I saw it at your wedding." Sarah's eyes were earnest. "You're family now. We'll help you figure each other out."

You nodded, offering a small but grateful smile. Perhaps in time you would feel comfortable opening up about the complicated feelings Rafe stirred in you, the exhilaration and uncertainty. But for now, his vulnerabilities were yours to guard.

Wheezie, bless her smiled brightly. "I'm so happy you're my new sister! We're going to have such fun together."

You laughed softly, warmth swelling in your chest. With Sarah and Kiara's wisdom and Wheezie's sweet spirit, you knew you could face this daunting new future. You were no longer alone.

Just then, the head housemaid approaches the women, curtsying politely. "Pardon me, Your Highnesses, but His Majesty King Ward has requested Princess Lila's presence for a private brunch on the veranda. Shall I inform the kitchens to begin preparations?"

You blink in surprise but nod to the maid. "Yes, please let the king know I would be honored to join him." You turn back to the other ladies after the maid departs. "Well, it seems my father-in-law wishes to speak with me alone. I suppose I should change into something more proper." You stand a bit nervously. This would be your first real interaction with the imposing monarch.

"Father can seem intimidating but he appreciates sincerity. And don't let him bully you into anything you're uncomfortable with."

You bid farewell to your friends and made your way back to the bedchambers to ready yourself for the impending brunch with King Ward. Your stomach fluttered anxiously as you mulled over what he could want to discuss in private.

After freshening up, you carefully selected an elegant mint green day dress with billowing elbow-length sleeves from the wardrobe. You style your hair in a simple yet tidy braided updo and affix a minimal amount of jewelry - a delicate silver pendant necklace and teardrop pearl earrings. A hint of rose gloss on your lips completed the refined look.

Smoothing the skirts of your dress, You exhaled a steadying breath as you regarded your reflection. You hoped your attire properly conveyed the right mix of grace and poise while still retaining your own simple style. As you made your way through the opulent halls towards the veranda, you tried to quell the butterflies in your stomach. You had no reason to be so nervous; after all, you would one day be queen beside Rafe. Proving yourself an able partner who could hold your own was crucial.

Upon arriving at the sunny veranda, you were greeted by the sight of King Ward already seated at a table lavishly arrayed with brunch fare. At your approach, he stood and offered a formal bow.

"Princess Y/N, thank you for accepting my invitation. Please, sit."

You dipped into a curtsy before taking the seat opposite Ward. you met his gaze evenly, resolving to show no weakness. This may be just a brunch, but you sensed the king was assessing your mettle. You would rise to the challenge.

"The honor is mine, Your Majesty. To what do I owe the pleasure of this private audience?" Your tone was polite yet confident. The gleam in Ward's eye told you this was exactly his intent - to take your measure beyond the pomp and flair of the wedding. You straightened your spine, ready to prove your worth.

Ward looks at you curiously before taking a sip of his tea "I wished to speak with you privately, away from the commotion of the palace to get to know my new daughter in law better. This marriage was quick and sudden, but binding our families will be good for the kingdom." He explains.

"Now.." he folds his hands on the table and looks at you intently "Tell me about yourself Y/N, what are your interests?" He asks kindly, wanting to understand your personality and character better.

You relaxed slightly at Ward's polite small talk, offering a gracious smile as you prepared your tea. "Of course, Your Majesty. I appreciate you taking the time to get to know me better outside of all the wedding bustle."

You take a thoughtful sip of your tea before continuing. "Well, I've always enjoyed reading and learning whenever I can. Our library at home was my favorite place to spend long afternoons." A wistful look crosses your face at the memories.

"I also love music - singing, playing the harpsichord. Art and photography are passions of mine as well. Capturing a moment of beauty to appreciate again and again." Your eyes brighten describing your hobbies.

"But I also recognize the importance of being an active participant in the community. I assisted our local orphanage regularly and enjoyed volunteering at functions." You meet Ward's gaze. "I believe those in positions of privilege have an obligation to use their place to aid others. I hope to continue that here."

You pause, glancing at Ward hesitantly. "I know I have much to learn when it comes to politics and courtly matters. But I'm eager to play my role serving the people, and to support Rafe's reign as a strong partner."

You fold your hands in your lap. "I may seem simple on the surface, but I have layers yet to be uncovered. Given time, I know I could thrive here as a princess." You kept your chin lifted, showing sincerity and determination in the face of Ward's intense scrutiny.

Ward considers your words carefully, looking thoughtful as he sips his tea. Finally he sets down his cup and leans back in his seat, steepling his fingers.

"A commendable answer. You show wisdom beyond your years, Y/N, as well as a refreshing earnestness." One corner of his mouth quirks upward. "Far better than the vapid socialites I feared Rafe might foist upon us."

You had to suppress a smile at Ward's dry humor. The king regards you keenly.

"My son has always followed his passions, often recklessly. He will need a partner of substance who can balance his…impulsiveness, and check his wilder whims. From our limited interactions, I believe you may have the mettle needed to temper his nature, in time."

He tilts his head, eyes assessing. "The question is, do you have the will? Rafe can be stubborn, even cruel when provoked. This role will require patience and resilience.

You meet Ward's gaze levelly. "I understand the challenges, Your Majesty. But I intend to face them. Rafe may be impulsive, but he needs compassion to steady him, not control." You keep your voice firm but respectful. "I believe we can forge something stronger together."

Ward stares at you pensively before cracking the barest smile. "Well said. Perhaps you are the making of each other." He lifts his teacup in salute. "I look forward to seeing what unfolds between you two. The road will not be smooth, but you strike me as a girl who finishes what she starts."

You dip your head graciously at the veiled praise, hope blooming in your chest. If you can earn even this guarded man's approval, perhaps you truly have a chance to thrive in this strange new home.

After the brunch you go for a walk around the palace grounds, you hum softly looking at all the flowers. You find a bench under a willow tree near the royal cemetery. Sitting down you close your eyes enjoying the warm breeze. After a little while you hear leaves crunching behind you and turn to see Rafe approaching. His hair is windswept, eyes tired, and his shirt is half unbuttoned. He looks stressed about something. Noticing you sitting there he stops and sighs running a hand through his messy hair. "oh..hey.." he greets plainly, unsure what to say.

You look up in surprise as Rafe approaches, taking in his disheveled appearance and the tension in his frame. You offer a tentative smile. "Hello. Enjoying the gardens as well?"

Rafe drags a hand through his already tousled hair, gaze darting away almost guiltily. "Yeah…I just needed some air. Place was feeling a bit stifling."

You nod in understanding, gesturing to the empty space on the bench. After a pause, Rafe settles beside you, though his posture remains rigid. Silence stretches between them, the atmosphere oddly awkward after the passion you had shared.

Wanting to break the tension, You glance sidelong at Rafe. "I had an interesting brunch with your father this morning. He…seems satisfied with me as your choice of wife." You keep your tone light, hoping Rafe will open up about what's troubling him.

He snorts softly. "Of course he scrutinized you. The great King Ward misses nothing." There's an edge of bitterness to his words. Rafe's shoulders slump slightly as he gazes out at the sun-dappled lawn, tension leaking from his frame.

"I know you two barely know each other. This whole situation is less than ideal." He rakes another hand through his hair, messing the dirty blonde strands. When he looks back at you, his eyes are troubled. "I just hope…well, that you can find some happiness here. Despite my family's meddling."

Your expression softens the sincerity in his words. Gently, you rest your hand atop his where it rests on his knee. "This may have begun unusually, but the future remains unwritten. We have a say in what happens now."

Rafe's eyes widen slightly at your touch, but he doesn't pull away. Tentatively he turns his palm up to lace your fingers, the gesture intimate.

Your heart flutters hopefully. Perhaps your new husband isn't as aloof as he pretends. You sit in more comfortable silence for a moment, hands entwined, gazing out at the peaceful view.

Finally Rafe clears his throat gruffly. "We should head back soon. But…thank you, for understanding." He squeezes your hand gently before releasing it and standing. The air between you feels lighter somehow as you head back to the palace together.

You nod and stand up, smoothing out your dress. You smile softly up at him "Of course..I know this is all still new." As you walk you tentatively slip your hand in his, giving it a little squeeze.

When you reach the palace doors Rafe pulls his hand away abruptly, his face becoming cold and distant again. "I have business to attend to..I will see you later at dinner." He mutters before walking off not waiting for a response.

You watch him hurry off confused and a little hurt by his sudden aloofness again after the tender moment you just shared. Biting your lip anxiously you head inside to find Kiara and Sarah, hoping they can provide some insight on Rafe’s mercurial moods.

Making your way through the lavish corridors, you eventually locate Sarah and Kiara chatting in one of the palace sitting rooms. They both greet you cheerfully, but their smiles fade at your obvious distress.

"What's wrong? You look upset about something," Kiara asks in concern, guiding you to sit beside her on an embroidered settee.

You smooth your skirt, unsure how much to confide about your mercurial new spouse. "I'm just…having some difficulty figuring Rafe out. One moment he seems open and tender, the next he's cool and distant."

Sarah nods knowingly. "Yes, my dear brother has always been moody. Passionate one instant, petulant the next." She pats your hand. "Try not to take it personally. Rafe has trouble reconciling his heart and his duties."

"He's under immense pressure as future king," Kiara adds sympathetically. "It likely makes him feel vulnerable, so he compensates by being remote."

You consider this, comforted by your friends' wisdom. Perhaps Rafe's moodiness stemmed from feeling inadequate, not indifference toward you.

Sarah smiles encouragement. "Keep being patient and meeting him where he's at, Y/N. In time, he'll realize you're a safe place to share his burdens."

Kiara agrees. "Just show compassion and understanding. Your open heart is your greatest gift."

You smile, buoyed by their sisterly advice. If Rafe is skittish of closeness, you would have to coax him out gently, not take his distance personally. Your future depended on bridging this chasm, no matter how long it took.

You smile gratefully "You both give such wise counsel, I don't know what I'd do without you." you say sincerely.

Sarah waves a hand "Oh please, what are friends for? Besides putting conceited brothers in their place that is." She jokes, making you laugh.

"Would you both accompany me to dinner tonight? Having you close by keeps me calm when I have to interact with Rafe and his family. It's all still so intimidating." you admit.

Kiara loops your arms together. "Of course! We'll be right by your side the whole night." She reassures you.

Sarah nods in agreement. "Rafe may be stubborn but he'll come around. In the meantime, we'll make sure you feel welcome here."

Your eyes mist over with gratitude at their unconditional support. With such true friends at your side, you feel able to endure Rafe's unpredictability and find your place in this unfamiliar world.

You spend the afternoon with Sarah and Kiara, their lighthearted company bolstering your spirits after your confusing encounter with Rafe. By the time evening falls and you make your way to the grand dining hall, You feel much more centered and calm with your two dear friends accompanying you.

As you enter the spacious hall, You instinctively seek out Rafe's tall form. Your husband stands stiffly beside King Ward near the head of the table, face an impassive mask. But you notice faint circles under his eyes, hinting at his inner turmoil.

Sarah gives your arm a subtle, reassuring squeeze as you take your seats. Kiara offers an encouraging smile from your other side. Bolstered by their quiet support, You straighten your spine and meet Rafe's shuttered gaze evenly when it drifts your way. You will not cower from his moods.

Dinner passes uneventfully, full of empty courtly pleasantries you have little patience for. Throughout the meal, you make subtle attempts to catch Rafe's eye, hoping to convey mute understanding across the table. But he remains withdrawn, jaw tense as he interacts minimally with the guests.

Your heart sinks at his continued distance, but you refuse to let it show. When the meal concludes, you excuse yourself politely before exiting the hall, chin held high. Your friends move to follow, but you still them with a slight shake of your head.

"Stay, enjoy the festivities. I just need some time alone to clear my head." At their understanding nods, You gather your skirts and make your way out into the moonlit gardens.

The fresh night air soothes you as you find that stone bench under a willow tree again. You tilt your face up to the stars, seeking guidance. Patience and empathy were your only weapons against Rafe's barricades. You could not force him to meet you halfway. Sighing softly, You close your eyes and make a silent wish upon the moon. Bring down your walls, my guarded prince. Let me inside.

As you sit peacefully under the stars, you gradually become aware of footsteps approaching on the garden path. You open your eyes to see Rafe striding towards you, still dressed in his formal dinner attire. He looks surprised to see you there.

"Oh..I didn't realize you'd be out here," he remarks, seeming conflicted about whether to stay or turn back. After a brief hesitation, he moves to sit beside you on the bench, staring straight ahead into the darkness.

"I suppose I don't blame you for wanting to escape that dreadful affair either," he mutters, mouth twisting wryly. "The noble court can be rather insufferable."

You study his tense profile curiously. There is obviously something he wants to express, but is struggling to find the words for. You decide to take a gentle approach.

"The night sky is quite beautiful here. I enjoy having this serene place to collect my thoughts when things feel…overwhelming." You keep your tone soft, hoping he might open up.

Rafe's jaw works, eyes fixed ahead. Several moments of tense silence pass before he speaks again, voice low. "I… apologize for my poor company today. You deserve better from your husband." He finally meets your gaze, remorse flickering in his eyes.

Your expression softens. Gently, you reach over to cover his hand with yours in a gesture of understanding. "I know this transition has been challenging for us both. But we will figure it out, together."

Rafe's eyes widen slightly at your easy forgiveness. After a beat, he turns his palm over to tentatively lace your fingers. You feel your heart lift as Rafe opens up, however hesitantly. You give his hand a gentle, encouraging squeeze, hoping he will continue.

After another strained silence, Rafe drags his free hand through his hair, leaving it endearingly mussed. "I just…I want to be the man they need me to be. My father, the kingdom." He lifts his eyes to the moon.

You feel your heart swell as Rafe opens up, the ice in his gaze melting to reveal vulnerability beneath. You give his hand another encouraging squeeze.

"It's alright, you don't have to be perfect. Just be yourself." Rafe sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I wish it were that simple. But certain things are expected of me, duties I can't shirk." His shoulders slump under the invisible weight.

You nod in understanding. "I know. But you don't have to carry it all alone. I'm here now, to listen and support you. We're partners in this." You trail your thumb over his knuckles, hoping he understands you won't abandon him to his burdens.

Rafe turns to look at you fully, eyes searching yours. He seems startled to find only sincerity and care reflected back at him. "You deserve a medal for putting up with me," he says wryly, but gratitude shines through the humor.

You just smile. "I don't need medals, just your word you won't shut me out again."

Rafe considers your request, then nods solemnly. "You have it. Thank you for…being you." He gives your hand a gentle, meaningful squeeze.

You share a tender smile under the moonlight, the air between you lighter somehow. There is hope for you yet if you continue reaching out in understanding. You know the road won't be easy, but you're willing to walk it with this complicated man who is now your partner. With patience and care, your arranged union could blossom into something real. For now, this moment of connection beneath the stars feels like a promising start.

You smile softly and say "Of course, that's what partners are for. Now…" You stand up smoothing your dress. "Why don't we go for a walk? The gardens are beautiful at night." You suggest wanting to spend more relaxing quality time with him.

Rafe runs a hand through his hair and smiles a little. "I'd like that." He agrees and stands up, offering his arm to you politely.

You loop your arm through his and you begin walking at a leisurely pace admiring the flowers and fountains illuminated by moonlight.

For a time you simply walk in comfortable silence, appreciating the nocturnal blooms and gently babbling fountains surrounding them. You breathe deeply, filling your lungs with the sweet floral scents on the night breeze. After being cooped up in the palace much of the day, it feels freeing to be outside enjoying nature's beauty.

You sneak a glance at Rafe and find the tension gone from his features, replaced by a look of contentment. His eyes seem brighter beneath the stars, and the hints of a smile play at his lips. Seeing him relaxed and unguarded makes your heart flutter with hope.

Eventually Rafe's voice breaks the silence. "Thank you for this. I can't remember the last time I just…existed, without pressures and duties weighing me down."

You smile. "Of course. We all need room to breathe." Timidly you reach over to give his hand a gentle squeeze. Rafe glances down in surprise but doesn't pull away.

The moment feels suspended in time, just the two of you and the hushed music of the garden. You wished you could stay here forever, away from the complications of family and royalty. But for now, this stolen moment of tranquility together feels like a step toward healing.

Keeping your hand covering his, you scoot a little closer, your sides now pressed together.You rest your head on his shoulder tentatively.

"Can we just stay out here a little longer? I don't want this moment to end.." You whisper not wanting the peaceful feeling to disappear once you have to go back inside.

Rafe looks down at you surprised by the contact but doesn't move away. The scent of your floral perfume surrounds him, making his heart skip. No one has shown him such tenderness before. Slowly he rests his head against yours.

"Just a little longer.." He agrees quietly, closing his eyes. For now all the stresses and responsibilities melt away as you sit together under the stars. He wishes he could freeze this feeling and live in it forever.

Rafe's thumb strokes over your knuckles, touch feather-light. The caress sends a thrill through you even as it soothes. You angle yourself closer, memorizing his warmth, his scent, the rhythm of his breathing. This gentle side of him feels like a gift, one you will safeguard.

The hour grows late, the moon sinking low. Reluctantly you lift your head, meeting Rafe's drowsy gaze. "We should head back," you murmur. He nods, reluctance shadowing his eyes. But the new bond between you remains as you slowly rise and retrace your steps out of the garden. Whatever comes next, you will face it together.

As you reluctantly make your way back inside the silent palace hand in hand. Pausing outside your bed chamber door you turn to him. "Thank you for tonight..I haven't felt this content in a long time." You admit with a soft smile.

Rafe rubs the back of his neck "Yeah..me too.." Glancing around awkwardly to make sure no one is around he takes both your hands in his. "Y/N I…I know this whole situation is less than ideal..but I'm grateful to have you as my wife. You've shown me more care and patience than anyone." He says sincerely, gazing into your eyes. "I'll try to be the man you deserve from now on.." He promises softly.

You blink back tears, deeply moved. "All I want is for you to be yourself. The rest we'll figure out together." You offer a tremulous smile.

Rafe searches your face before nodding slowly. Still clasping one of your hands, he reaches up to tenderly tuck a loose curl behind your ear. The affectionate gesture makes your breath hitch.

"Together," Rafe repeats. He starts to lean in, then hesitates. Your eyes flutter closed in tacit permission. A moment later, the barest brush of his lips grazes your cheek in a feather-light kiss.

As Rafe pulls back, your eyes open to find him watching you, desire and uncertainty mingling in his gaze. You give his hand one more squeeze in reassurance before slipping inside your room.

Alone in the darkness, You press a hand to your tingling cheek. Tonight was a turning point for you guys, you feel it. With open hearts, this arranged union just might transform into a true marriage.

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