#but the ending of the scene was unbearably cute

[pharawee]

Come here. A hug as a punishment.

[fragmentedblade]

"Though I don't know exactly what you are or what you're up to... My bullets will find you — until then, you best find a casket store in Penacony, and ask the owner to reserve a good quality casket for you, imposter!"

Hardly could get more Western film than this

[straight4joekeery]

Ugh. I cant wait to uncringify all these chapters for AO3. I just read a random paragraph and cried because it was so stupid. This is so funny (I want to burn my laptop)

[voyter]

DEVOTION — jeon jungkook.

genre. a song of ice and fire au. 103 AC. smut. knight!jungkook. queen!reader.

your knight is completely devoted to you, and while it’s his duty, you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more behind his unwavering loyalty.

word count. 17.1k words (FUCK i am so sorry) warnings. this fic might be a bit confusing if you havent watched game of thrones or house of the dragon !!! misogyny. gender dynamics. seokjin and namjoon cameo hehe. forced / arranged marriage. over protective jungkook <3. cute convo between oc and her husband. violence. mentions of blood and murder. SO MUCH FUCKING TENSION. smut. two sex scenes !! dry humping. oral (male!receiving). unprotected sex (this universe takes place thousands of years ago and condoms didnt exist yet give me a break). bath sex. they almost get caught OOP. cheating (but both parties are consenting and they both openly do it to each other but they dont love each other romantically so its okay i guess) ???? jungkook literally worships her oh im sick i need him.

ana's notes. this fic ended up being much longer than i anticipated but oh my gosh i literally could NOT STOP WRITING !!! this is the longest fic ive ever written hello. this is inspired by alicent and coles relationship in season 2. sorry i hate them but this trope ??? OUUU TOO GOOD. so you know i got inspired. anyways, i love this one so much, so please let me know your thoughts <3. as always, keep your comments positive or say nothing at all xx

listening to. blue jeans by lana del rey / middle of the night by elley duhé / flawless by the neighbourhood

part of the based off film series. this one shot is based off house of the dragon.

You had always hated the idea of marrying someone you didn’t love, but you knew that marriage was not a choice — it was an obligation woven into the fabric of your destiny. Though reluctance filled you at first, you gradually came to terms with your duty, accepting the role thrust upon you with a measure of peace.

House Emberwyn ruled the Seven Kingdoms, making them the most powerful house of all. Your father had forged a deep bond with King Aelyx, the two men connected by the shared grief of losing their wives. Beyond their friendship, your father was adamant that uniting your houses through marriage was crucial. He envisioned a future where the intertwining of two powerful, wealthy legacies would forge an unbreakable realm.

Atticus, the son of King Aelyx, was only a year older than you — making him a suitable match. Like you, he was reluctant to marry, but he, too, understood the importance of duty. He wanted nothing more than to make his father proud, even if it meant sacrificing personal desire.

As the sole heirs of your respective houses, the pressure to produce children was immediate. The act of intimacy with Atticus was never one of passion or love; it was merely another duty. The first time was uncomfortable, almost unbearable, but over time, you learned to tolerate it. This was your life now, dictated by duty rather than desire.

Since your marriage, you have been blessed with three children. Ares, your eldest and only son, was conceived during your bedding ceremony. Now a boy of one and ten, he is wise beyond his years, his sharp mind driven by a deep love for books and knowledge. Celeste, your first daughter, is nine years old — a whirlwind of wild, unrestrained energy that seems impossible to contain. Already, she’s been eagerly awaiting the day she can take to the skies on dragonback, her spirit far older than her years. Then there is Luna, your youngest and newest addition to the family, a radiant little soul who brings warmth and light into every corner of your life. She is the calm of the storm, a small but powerful source of joy that never fails to lift your spirits, no matter how heavy the burdens of the day.

Atticus is a good father, never neglecting his children. He is present in their lives, providing for them with steadfast love and care. As a husband, he is kind and dutiful. Yet, despite all his virtues, he is not the love of your life.

The two of you had come to an agreement early in your marriage: you were free to seek pleasure where you wished, as long as heirs were made with each other. It was a compromise, one that allowed you both to navigate the confines of your duty while maintaining some semblance of personal freedom.

Tragedy struck shortly after Celeste’s birth when King Aelyx succumbed to an unknown illness. The crown passed to Atticus, and with it came the immense burden of ruling the Seven Kingdoms.

With Atticus as king, you became Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, unlike your husband, you did not feel the same pressure. Your days were mostly spent within the confines of your chambers, where the laughter and antics of your children filled your life with light and purpose. Despite never having known your own mother — she had died giving birth to you — you felt as though motherhood had always been your calling.

While you wouldn’t trade your life for anything in the world, motherhood came with its challenges. Ares and Celeste were at the age where they bickered endlessly over the smallest of things — whether it was toys, attention, or simply to see who could get on your nerves first. Their constant squabbles were a source of frustration, and yet you knew it was a phase they would eventually outgrow. Luna, on the other hand, still so small and newly born, could not seem to stop crying. Her wails often filled the castle, and while the maids were always close by, ready to assist, you never allowed them to. You wanted your daughter to find comfort in your arms, not anyone else’s.

There were days when calming her down felt like a losing battle, the hours stretching into what felt like an eternity. But when you finally succeeded, when her cries quieted and her tiny form melted into sleep, it filled you with a sense of accomplishment. It was a small victory in a life full of larger, weightier battles.

Fortunately, today was one of the easier days. Luna wasn’t feeling particularly fussy, and after a few gentle rocks and soft pats on her back, she fell asleep in your arms without much protest. Relief washed over you as you gazed down at her peaceful face, her tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The soft warmth of her against you, the quiet of the room, made you feel like, for a moment, everything was right.

“Your Grace?”

A voice interrupted your quiet reverie, but you didn’t turn. Your eyes remained fixed on Luna, unwilling to break the fragile serenity of the moment. You hummed in response, acknowledging the speaker but unable to tear your gaze from your sleeping daughter.

“Your presence is wanted, though not required, Your Grace.”

The words draw you from your thoughts, and with a soft sigh, you finally turn to face the speaker. It’s the Lord Commander, standing tall and imposing, his armor catching the dim light filtering through the windows.

“What for?” you ask, your voice calm but laced with curiosity.

“The Kingsguard posting,” he replies, his tone formal, as always. “It’s been suggested that you select who will guard the Red Keep.”

You consider his words, your gaze drifting back to Luna, still fast asleep in your arms. The thought of placing your trust in someone else, of relying on others to protect what matters most, brings a weight to your chest. As a mother, your first instinct is always to shield your children. You would want nothing more than for them to roam the castle freely, knowing they were surrounded by those you trusted — those you handpicked.

“I suppose,” you murmur.

After carefully setting Luna in her crib, you linger for a moment, brushing a tender hand over her soft cheek. Ensuring the maids were nearby to watch over her, you quietly slip from the nursery and follow the Lord Commander through the castle's stone corridors. Your thoughts remain on Luna for a heartbeat longer before shifting to the matter at hand — choosing the knights who would guard your family, your children.

You arrive at the balcony overlooking the courtyard, where a line of knights stands at attention, their armor gleaming in the afternoon sun. The air is crisp, the tension palpable as each knight awaits his turn to be presented.

The Lord Commander steps forward, his voice ringing with authority. "Step forward, Ser Kim Namjoon."

The knight moves with a quiet confidence, offering you a small, almost shy smile. Dimples crease his cheeks, and despite the serious nature of the proceedings, you find yourself smiling back, charmed by the warmth in his expression.

"Ser Namjoon has proved strong and steady in both the tourney lists and in service beyond," the Lord Commander begins. "While traveling through the Kingswood on the way to King’s Landing, Ser Namjoon recently brought a would-be poacher to justice."

You listen carefully, considering the man before you. His loyalty and steadiness are clear, and his recent actions speak of a knight who serves with honor. Still, your mind drifts to a darker, more urgent thought — combat. The Red Keep, and more importantly, your children, needed knights who were not only honorable but battle hardened. In these uncertain times, loyalty alone would not be enough. 

"Ser Namjoon," you say, your voice polite yet measured. "We thank you for your loyal service to the Crown."

He bows deeply before stepping back into line, and you offer him a nod in return, though your thoughts continue to circle around the same question — how many of these knights had seen true combat?

The next knight steps forward, and your gaze narrows as you take him in.

"Ser Kim Seokjin," the Lord Commander announces.

This knight is taller, leaner than Namjoon. He holds himself with a quiet grace, his expression serious, but there's a spark of something beneath the surface — determination perhaps, or ambition.

"Winner of the melee at Cider Hall," the Lord Commander continues. "He was the last mounted of three and twenty knights. Ser Seokjin was knighted at eight and ten."

You raise an eyebrow, impressed by his accomplishments. Yet, your thoughts linger on something more pressing, more crucial to the protection of your family.

"Do any of these knights have combat experience?" you ask, your tone sharper now. "Beyond capturing poachers and winning tourneys?"

The Lord Commander nods solemnly, signaling the next candidate.

“Ser Jeon Jungkook.”

As the name is called, a young knight steps forward, noticeably younger than the others who had come before him. Yet, despite his youth, he carries himself with an air of quiet confidence, his steps measured and purposeful. Strands of raven hair fall loosely across his forehead, framing a face that, while youthful, is sharp with focus. His dark eyes meet yours with a steady gaze, neither too bold nor deferent — he stands unshaken by the weight of the moment.

He looks about your age, perhaps even younger, and though he lacks the grizzled scars of a seasoned warrior, something about him immediately draws your attention. There's a natural grace in the way he moves, his armor fitting him perfectly as if he was born to wear it. He’s quite handsome, a fact you can’t help but notice as he stands before you, the light of the setting sun casting a faint glow over his features.

"Tell me, Ser Jungkook," you say, breaking the silence, "have you seen real combat?"

He doesn’t falter, his voice steady as he speaks. "I have, Your Grace. I fought for a year as a foot soldier against the Dornish incursions. I was knighted after we razed two of the watchtowers along the Boneway.”

There is no hesitation in his tone, no embellishment. The quiet intensity of his words, the weight of lived experience behind them, strikes you deeply. His demeanor isn't that of a man seeking glory but of one who has already faced the fire and come out stronger for it. In that moment, your decision feels clear.

“It’s settled.” Your lips curve into a smile, one of certainty and satisfaction. “I choose Ser Jungkook.”

The Lord Commander stiffens slightly, his jaw tensing as though weighing whether to speak. Before you can take a step back toward your chambers, his voice interrupts, filled with respectful hesitation. "Perhaps we shouldn’t be too hasty, Your Grace. There is no doubt Ser Jungkook is a fine warrior, but Ser Namjoon and Ser Seokjin are from houses that are important allies of the Crown."

You turn slowly, your expression cool but firm. The politicking of the court — alliances, the endless exchange of favors and titles — was something you understood all too well. Yet, this was not a matter of alliances. This was the safety of your family, the future of your children. And no amount of courtly maneuvering could change that.

“Those men are tourney knights,” you say, your voice laced with a sharp edge. “My children should be defended by a man who’s known real combat. Should they not?”

The Lord Commander pauses, his gaze flickering between the knights and your unwavering stance. He gives a short bow, conceding. “Of course, Your Grace.”

You nod once, satisfied. “Very well, then,” you say, a smile returning to your face, though this time with a sense of finality. “I expect you to plan Ser Jungkook’s investiture.”

There’s a flicker of something in the Lord Commander’s eyes — perhaps begrudging respect or recognition of your authority in this matter. He bows once more before stepping aside. “As you wish, Your Grace. I will see to it.”

As the days passed, it became clear that your decision to appoint Ser Jungkook was more than justified.

Jungkook proved himself an unwavering presence in the lives of your children. He guarded Ares and Celeste like a loyal hound, always at their side, his dark eyes constantly scanning their surroundings for any sign of danger. Wherever they went — whether it was the training yard where Ares spent hours practicing swordplay or the garden where Celeste attempted to name every flower — Jungkook followed, his sight never leaving them.

In the corridors of the Red Keep, you would often catch glimpses of him, stationed at the door to whatever chamber Ares and Celeste had wandered into, standing with that same quiet intensity that first caught your attention. He never intruded upon their activities, never interfered with their games, but his presence was felt all the same. He was a silent sentinel, ensuring that no one entered or exited a room without his knowledge.

Even the servants and court members began to take note, offering respectful nods as they passed him. There was a certain respect that began to build around Jungkook, not just as a knight, but as a protector of the royal family — of your family.

Before Ser Jungkook’s arrival, the Red Keep had always felt secure. Its towering walls and seasoned guards provided a fortress of safety, a place where danger rarely crossed your mind. Yet, somehow, with Jungkook’s arrival, there was a new, tangible sense of protection. His presence, quiet yet vigilant, added an extra layer of assurance, as if the very air had shifted, growing thicker with safety, steadier with his watchful eye. He didn’t need to speak or make grand gestures; just knowing he was there, standing mere feet away from you, made the castle feel more fortified than it ever had before.

In many ways, he made you feel like that too — protected, even in the smallest, unspoken ways.

The Small Council was always the most grueling part of your day. Despite your title as Queen, you found yourself constantly sidelined, your voice often drowned out by the men who dominated the discussions. You had grown accustomed to their subtle condescension — the way they’d nod and pretend to listen, only to carry on as if your words had never been spoken. You’d learned to expect it, but the sting of dismissal never faded entirely.

And today was no different.

As you took your seat, Jungkook stood nearby, ever the silent sentinel. He’d grown adept at reading you, his dark eyes keenly observing the smallest shift in your demeanor. He noticed how, at first, you entered the room with a composed grace, ready to engage in the matters at hand. But as the meeting dragged on, frustration began to creep in, visible in the slight tightening of your jaw each time a man at the table spoke over you or dismissed your suggestions with a polite but infuriating nod.

Jungkook’s eyes followed the subtle changes — the way your posture stiffened, the soft sigh you tried to suppress, and then, finally, the way boredom started to settle in as you reached for the small stone ball on the table, rolling it between your fingers absentmindedly. He knew you were doing your best to remain patient, but the disrespect weighed heavily in the room.

His hand instinctively twitched at his side, a protective instinct rising within him as he stood there watching. He was ready to intervene if the moment called for it, though he knew better than to step in unless absolutely necessary. Still, his silent support was palpable, a reassuring presence amidst the clamor of men who failed to see the strength in the woman before them.

“Perhaps we should discuss Driftmark, Your Grace,” the Maester began, his voice too casual for the gravity of the subject. He directed his attention toward your husband, but the mention of Driftmark instantly drew you in, pulling you from your growing boredom. You straightened in your seat, the defensiveness in your posture clear.

“What of it?” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, the raw emotion behind it hard to suppress. Driftmark wasn’t just a topic for idle conversation — it was family. Personal. The loss of the Lord of the Tides, your cousin’s husband, had been a blow that still lingered, and the aftermath of it weighed heavily on your heart.

He had been more than just family; he had adored your children as if they were his own, even naming your daughter, Celeste, as his heir. It was an honor, though one with its own set of complications. With Ares set to inherit the Iron Throne, Celeste was to inherit Driftmark. Your cousin, devastated by the loss of her husband and without heirs of her own, was to hold the seat in her stead until Celeste came of age.

The Maester’s eyes flickered between you and your husband, clearly aware of the tension in the room but too entrenched in his own position to approach the subject delicately. He cleared his throat, then spoke with a tone that bordered on patronizing. “It’s... a delicate matter, Your Grace. There are those who believe the succession should be reconsidered, given your daughter’s age. Furthermore, some question the wisdom of naming a girl as heir to such a powerful seat.”

Your stomach tightened, fury simmering beneath the surface. A girl. As if Celeste’s age or gender diminished her worth, her potential. You could feel the disdain, not just for your daughter, but for the very idea of a woman wielding such power.

You held the Maester’s gaze, your voice sharp with barely concealed fury. “And do you agree with them?”

The chamber seemed to freeze in that moment, the weight of your words pressing down on everyone in the room. All eyes flickered nervously between you and the Maester, the tension palpable as if even the air had thickened, making it harder to breathe. Everyone braced themselves for the confrontation that was surely coming.

The Maester, sensing the chance to finally reveal his true thoughts, straightened in his seat, his chest puffing out as arrogance replaced caution. He no longer glanced toward your husband for approval; instead, his focus was solely on you, his eyes glinting with condescension.

“A woman on the Driftwood Throne, Your Grace?” he repeated, his voice dripping with condescension. “Forgive my candor, but Driftmark is not some soft and delicate estate. It is a seat of warriors, sailors, men of the sea and battle. Its history is steeped in strength and tradition. To put a mere girl — no matter her bloodline — on that chair is folly, plain and simple. A woman’s place is in the home, tending to hearth and children, not commanding fleets or sitting in council chambers. The late Lord has a brother who would make a fine new Lord, more befitting the legacy.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, your hands tightening into fists. “His brother has no desire for rule!” you shot back, your temper dangerously close to boiling over. “Celeste is his rightful heir. It was his wish, and it will not be questioned!”

The Maester, unfazed, continues. “Your Grace… with all due respect, your daughter is but a child. A girl of her age should be concerned with dolls and dresses, not the governance of a seat as vital as Driftmark. There are many in the realm who would argue that Driftmark deserves a stronger hand. A male heir, one capable of steering the course of the future, as tradition demands. Perhaps it is time to reconsider your decision, before it’s too late. Before the realm begins to question not only Driftmark’s future, but the Queen’s judgment as well.”

The insult hung in the air like a storm cloud, casting a heavy, suffocating tension over the room. The audacity — the sheer gall of the Maester to question not only your daughter’s right but your authority as Queen. Fury simmered beneath your composed exterior, your hand twitching as though you might lash out.

But before you could muster a response, Jungkook was already moving.

“You will watch your tongue when speaking to the Queen, Maester,” Jungkook’s voice was a low, dangerous rumble, carrying the unmistakable weight of a threat. His usually calm demeanor was gone, replaced by something far more menacing. “Or it shall be taken from you.”

The room seemed to shrink around the Maester, all eyes now on him as the color drained from his face. His earlier arrogance dissolved in an instant, replaced with wide-eyed panic. The man who had dared to question your daughter’s birthright now looked as though he might faint from fear.

“I- I meant no offense, Ser Jungkook,” the Maester stammered, his words tumbling over themselves in a desperate attempt to backpedal. His gaze flickered nervously from you to Jungkook, searching for some kind of escape.

“You did,” Jungkook cut him off sharply, his tone like the edge of a blade. His gaze bore into the Maester, unyielding, unwavering. “And I will remind you once more: mind your tongue.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the threat hanging in the air like a blade, and no one doubted that Jungkook would make good on his promise if pushed further.

You turned your gaze to Jungkook, barely concealing your silent shock. The man who stood just feet away, usually so quiet and composed, always speaking only when spoken to, had stepped in to defend you — boldly, without hesitation. The gesture was unexpected, and for a moment, you were struck by the kindness and protectiveness it held.

It was not just the words he had spoken, but the intensity behind them, the clear signal that he would tolerate no disrespect toward you. In a room full of lords and courtiers who often dismissed your voice, Jungkook’s sudden defense felt like a rare and precious show of loyalty. Uncommon as it was, it left a warmth spreading in your chest, a silent but deeply felt appreciation.

Jungkook still hadn’t met your eyes, his intense gaze fixed on the Maester, the disapproval and disgust etched in his expression radiating an aura so fierce, it was almost frightening. He stood there like a wall of steel, silently daring anyone to challenge him again.

You turned your attention back to the Maester, who now squirmed under the weight of the moment. His once confident, condescending exterior had crumbled, now sitting timidly in his seat.

“Celeste is the rightful heir,” you stated, your voice even and composed, though laced with quiet authority. “She will rule Driftmark, and she will do so just as well as any man ever could. Anyone who questions that,” you paused, allowing the weight of your words to settle over the room, “will regret it.”

The Maester lowered his head, unable to meet your gaze, his earlier arrogance completely shattered. “Of course, Your Grace. Please, forgive my words.”

Jungkook didn’t move an inch, his focus still locked onto the Maester like a hawk waiting for the slightest wrong move. The room felt smaller, the tension almost suffocating as the Maester’s earlier confidence reduced to a pitiful murmur.

“See that you don’t forget that again,” you said, your tone final and cold, leaving no room for further argument.

With that, you stood up from your seat, the weight of the moment still hanging heavy in the air. Without another word, you turned on your heel and made your way out of the courtroom, every step deliberate, your posture unyielding. The entire room seemed to hold its breath as you moved, a quiet power radiating from you that demanded respect.

Jungkook, as ever, was by your side in an instant, but he kept a respectful distance, just enough to remain a silent protector, his presence still like a shield around you. His footsteps were measured, the sound of his boots echoing softly in the corridors, and yet there was an undeniable sense of security in the space between you two. No words were exchanged as you made your way to your chamber — there was no need for them. His silent solidarity was all you required.

Jungkook’s presence was reassuring, like the calm after a storm, and it made the weight of leadership — of being Queen — just a little easier to bear.

After the heat of earlier’s events, the last thing you wanted was to step foot back into the chaos of the court. The weight of the Maester’s words still lingered in the air, and you felt the need to retreat, to recharge in the only place that felt truly like yours. So, you didn’t leave your chambers for the rest of the day. You took the rare opportunity to unwind, the need for solitude outweighing any further obligations for the day.

Without a second thought, you changed into your nightgown well before the moon rose, the soft fabric a welcome contrast to the tense weight of your court attire. You moved with practiced ease, the familiar ritual of shedding the day’s responsibilities easing the knots in your shoulders. 

The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting a warm glow that danced across the room. You sank into the couch, the cushions molding to your body as you settled in front of the flames. With a book in hand, you opened the pages, the words inviting you into another world — a world where you could forget, if only for a moment, the burdens of being Queen.

You lost yourself in the story, the flicker of the fire keeping time with the rhythm of your reading. Outside your window, the castle was quiet, the usual noise of the corridors muted by the sanctuary of your chamber. For the first time that day, you felt a sense of peace. The world outside could wait. Here, in the comfort of your own space, you could simply be.

But just as the fire’s soft, flickering glow began to lull you deeper into peace, a knock at the door broke the fragile silence, its sound sharp and intrusive. A flicker of annoyance stirred within you — someone daring to interrupt the quiet sanctuary of your evening. But then, a familiar voice, calm and steady, followed.

“Your Grace?”

It’s him.

You took a slow breath, the irritation melting away at the sound of his voice, and called softly, “Come in, Ser Jungkook.”

The door creaked open, but Jungkook didn’t immediately step inside. He stood just beyond the threshold, his tall frame framed by the dim light spilling from the hall, casting long shadows across the stone floor. There was something endearing in the way he paused there, as though uncertain, hesitating to cross the boundary of your private space without your explicit permission. His respect for the sanctity of your chambers was something rare, a simple act that made him stand out even more.

“My apologies, Your Grace,” he said, his voice smooth and steady, like the evening air itself. “I’ve just come to alert you that the children are abed.”

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

What you didn’t know was that the children had been in bed for some time. Jungkook had only alerted you now because he was standing just outside your door, hesitating. He wasn’t sure if he should disturb your peace with the news. Still new to this role, he was uncertain of how to balance his duties with the delicate art of discretion.

“Thank you, Ser Jungkook,” you said, your tone warm with gratitude. “I would appreciate it if you informed me every night from now on.”

“Of course, Your Grace. Sleep well.” Jungkook gave a respectful nod, his voice as steady and sincere as ever, and he turned to leave.

“Ser Jungkook,” you called again, before he could close the door behind him.

He paused, hand resting lightly on the doorframe, his dark eyes meeting yours in the soft, flickering firelight. For a brief moment, the noise of the castle seemed to fall away, the crackling fire the only sound that filled the space between you. It was rare, these moments of true stillness, where it was just the two of you, no interruptions, no duties weighing on either of your shoulders. The warmth from the fire cast a soft glow over him, accentuating the quiet strength in his features.

For the first time, you found yourself truly looking at him — not just the protector of your children, not just the present knight, but Jungkook. 

“I’ve yet to thank you for earlier — in the Small Council chamber,” you said softly, your voice quiet but earnest. “I appreciate your defense. Thank you.”

The words hung between you for a moment, carrying a weight that felt heavier than it should. It wasn’t just the defense itself, though that was significant; it was the quiet way he had stood up for you. Jungkook had always been the silent one, always just there, standing in the background. But today, he had been more. He had spoken when no one else had. His simple act of defending you meant more than you could say.

Jungkook’s posture softened at your words, though his expression remained composed, his usual stoic demeanor intact. Yet, as he held your gaze, his dark eyes seemed to linger a moment longer than usual, a subtle warmth settling in his look that wasn’t often there. It was as though the space between you both had shifted, the heavy tension of the day dissolving into something quieter, almost comforting.

“It was nothing, Your Grace. You need not thank me,” he replied, his voice low and measured, though there was something beneath it — something genuine, almost vulnerable, that made the words feel different from his usual calm, detached responses. His eyes remained steady on yours, and for a moment, the usual distance between you seemed to shrink, as though he was offering something unspoken, something more than just a knight’s duty. “You shouldn’t have to endure that kind of disrespect. It’s my duty to protect you, in all ways.”

You gave a soft nod, absorbing the weight of his words. Jungkook was a constant in your life — a silent guardian who stood watch over both your children and yourself. But hearing him speak of protecting you in such a way, so plainly and honestly, stirred something within you. It wasn’t just your children that mattered to him; it was you, as well. 

“You do more than protect,” you said, your voice softer now, the weariness of the day gradually easing. “Your actions today… they meant more than you know.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched at the corners, acknowledging your words, but he didn’t respond right away. There was a brief silence between you both, the fire’s crackling embers filling the stillness as he shifted his weight, his stance still as rigid as ever, but now, a slight tension in his shoulders had eased.

“If there’s ever anything you need, Your Grace,” he said finally, his tone softer than it had been moments before, but with an underlying firmness that conveyed his commitment, “I am here.”

The sincerity in his voice wrapped around you like a quiet promise, steady and unwavering. The light of the fire caught on his features, casting soft shadows over his face, making his usually guarded expression seem less distant, more human. You felt a sense of peace settling into the space between you both, a momentary connection that felt more genuine than anything that had passed between you in the public eye.

“Thank you,” you replied softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, finding comfort in the rare, honest exchange.

Jungkook inclined his head once more, his expression softening in a way that was unusual for him — a small, but genuine smile curling his lips, the warmth of it making him seem more approachable, more... real.

“Goodnight, Your Grace,” he said quietly, voice full of respect, but also something else — something deeper.

“Goodnight, Ser Jungkook,” you murmured in return.

With that, he turned and moved to close the door behind him, the soft click of the latch signaling his departure. But as the door clicked shut, you realized that this time, you didn’t feel the usual solitude. There was something different. Something comforting. Something exciting that made the pit of your stomach feel funny, in knowing he was standing just outside your door.

Just the barrier of wood between you two.

The next day unfolded much more peacefully than the last. 

You sat on the floor of your chamber, the luxurious fabric of your gown pooling around you like a soft sea of silk. The quiet of the room was comforting as you focused on the delicate task in front of you — embroidering a blanket for Luna. Each stitch was a calming motion, your mind momentarily free of the weight of royal duties. 

You hadn’t seen Jungkook yet, but his presence lingered in your thoughts, like an unspoken promise. The anticipation of his arrival stirred a quiet excitement within you, though you had no idea when he might appear. 

The silence was broken by your husband's voice, cutting through the peaceful air as he entered without knocking, his tone casual. “How are you feeling today?”

You glanced up briefly, meeting his eyes before returning to your work. “Better,” you answered, the edges of your lips curving into a faint smile.

“Good,” Atticus replied, smirking as he made his way over to the table and poured himself a goblet of wine. “Do you think you’ll be attending the Small Council today?”

You hesitated, the thought of sitting through another long, tedious session filling you with a quiet reluctance. “No… if that’s alright?” you replied, your tone tentative, not wanting to seem too dismissive of his suggestion.

“Of course,” Atticus said, lifting the goblet to his lips. His eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief as he added, “But I’ll have you know, I’ve hired a new Maester.”

The words hit you like a spark, and without thinking, you put your needle down. The sudden shift in the conversation caught your attention fully. Your eyes locked onto him, eyebrows raised in surprise. The idea of a new Maester was unexpected — and it immediately piqued your curiosity.

"Are you upset about that?" you asked, your voice soft and laced with a hint of apology, eyes searching his face for any sign of how he truly felt.

Atticus paused, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. His lips curled into a knowing smirk, and he set the goblet down gently on the table. "I could never be upset with you for only standing up for yourself," he said, his voice steady, though there was an underlying heat to his words. "And someone as disrespectful as that will not continue to walk around in this castle."

His declaration was resolute, filled with a quiet determination. The confidence in his voice was not just from his position, but from a place of deep respect for you. It was as if he had taken the full weight of your frustration upon himself, and the fire behind his words showed that he would do whatever it took to ensure you never had to endure such treatment again. 

You smile warmly at his words. "Thank you, Atticus."

He pauses, a small smile tugging at his lips, his fingers tapping idly on the edge of the table. "You know, as much as I’m not in love with you," he says slowly, his tone more thoughtful than usual, "I still love you."

The admission hangs in the air between you, the raw honesty in his voice bringing a quiet comfort. It wasn't the passionate declaration of romance you might have hoped for, but it was the kind of love that ran deep — steady, consistent, unshakable. 

You meet his gaze, and your heart softens with understanding. "As do I," you reply, your voice gentle but genuine. 

It wasn’t the kind of love that others might expect, filled with grand gestures and whispered sweet nothings. But in its own way, it was a love that had stood the test of time. It isn’t passionate, but there’s a respect and understanding between the two of you that runs deep.

“Now,” Atticus says, his voice low, teasing. “Can we talk about your knight in shining armor?”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the smirk that tugs at your lips. “Oh Gods,” you say, the edge of amusement clear in your voice as you go back to your needlework.

“Oh, come on,” he whines, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “I let you pick, now you have to tell me all about him!”

You raise an eyebrow, glancing up at him. “It was you who suggested I pick?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I thought you’d feel more content choosing someone yourself.”

“I do,” you reply with a small smile, returning to your embroidery. “It was a wise suggestion.”

“Oh, don’t change the subject now!” He motions with a dramatic hand. “What was that about yesterday?”

“He was just defending me,” you say, hoping to dismiss the conversation, though you’re well aware it won’t be that easy.

Atticus lets out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes in dramatic fashion. “No knight is that devoted to duty, my dear wife.”

His words make you pause, but you try not to let it show. Still, a smile begins to creep onto your lips, unbidden. You hadn’t really allowed yourself to think about it that way. Jungkook had always been quiet, loyal, reliable — but devoted in the way Atticus is hinting? It’s a thought that stirs something unexpected in you.

“Well, believe it or not,” you say, unable to stop the small grin now, “we’ve spoken to each other only a few times.”

Atticus raises an eyebrow, leaning in slightly, clearly entertained. “Is that so? And yet, with little words between you, he’s ready to challenge a room full of lords for your honor. Fascinating.”

You roll your eyes, returning to your needlework in an attempt to focus, but your mind can’t help but drift back to Jungkook. The memory of his voice, steady and unyielding as he defended you, lingers. Maybe Atticus has a point, but admitting that would only fuel his relentless teasing.

“He’s just dutiful,” you insist, though even you can hear the uncertainty creeping into your voice. 

Atticus catches it too, and his smirk widens as he takes a slow, deliberate sip from his goblet. “Dutiful because he loves his duty? Or because of you?”

Your cheeks flush instantly, the warmth creeping up your neck as you try to brush off the insinuation. “You’re reading into this too much,” you mumble, focusing on the embroidery in your lap, though your needlework suddenly seems less interesting.

“Am I?” Atticus drawls, stepping closer, his tone playful but probing. “Did you solely choose him because of his skills?”

You glance up at him briefly, trying to suppress a smile. “Are you implying something?”

He shrugs, the smirk on his lips widening. “Well, did you?”

“I did!” you exclaim, the words tumbling out a little too quickly, as if you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him. You glance up at Atticus, catching the amused gleam in his eyes. “He’s excellent with the children, and he strikes the perfect balance around here — intimidating enough to make it clear no one should challenge him, but not so much that the children are frightened. I trust him completely, and I’ve only known him a short while.”

Atticus hums, swirling the wine in his goblet with deliberate slowness before taking a sip, his skepticism apparent in the slight arch of his brow.

You shake your head, sighing lightly. “He’s proven his worth,” you say, trying to sound firm, though the soft smile that sneaks onto your lips betrays you. “It’s his abilities that matter.”

Atticus grins, thoroughly enjoying this exchange. “Of course, his abilities. And it’s just a coincidence that the knight you trust with our children’s safety also happens to be rather… easy on the eyes?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest betrays your amusement. “His appearance has nothing to do with why I chose him,” you insist, though your tone has lost its edge, becoming playful and light. “He’s capable, loyal, and vigilant. His looks are irrelevant.”

Atticus raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening into a knowing grin. “Irrelevant, but not unnoticed?”

You shoot him a mock glare, though the smile tugging at your lips makes it hard to maintain any seriousness. “You’re impossible,” you say with a shake of your head. “I care about his skills and nothing more.”

Atticus chuckles softly, clearly entertained. “We shall see,” he teases, his voice lingering in the air as he begins to make his exit. His steps are slow, unhurried, as though he’s savoring the moment. 

He walks out with a lightness in his stride, and the faint echo of his laughter trails behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts — and the quiet, unsettling realization that maybe, just maybe, his words weren’t entirely off the mark.

Returning to the Small Council felt different this time. The atmosphere had shifted. The men were more considerate, actually taking your opinions into account — a stark contrast to their usual dismissiveness. It seemed Atticus’ harsh punishment of the last Maester had sent a clear message: disrespect would no longer be tolerated. They were treading carefully now, not wanting to find themselves in a similar predicament.

You exhaled a long breath as you walked into your chamber, ready to unwind after the tense day. Removing your jewelry, you placed each piece delicately on the table, the soft clink of metal filling the otherwise quiet room. You went to bend down to slip off your shoes, eager for the relief of the cool floor beneath your feet.

But before you could, a sharp point suddenly pressed against your neck.

You froze.

Panic surged through you as the cold blade pressed harder against your skin, the world around you narrowing to the sound of your racing heartbeat.

“Don’t scream,” a low voice hissed in your ear, breath hot against your skin, “or you will die.”

Your breath hitched, the threat sinking in, terror flooding your veins. Tears welled in your eyes as helplessness gripped you. You had never felt so vulnerable, so utterly at the mercy of another.

The man spun you around with a jerk, and your gaze landed on another figure lurking in the shadows — both were dressed in the rough, dirt stained garb of rat catchers, but their eyes gleamed with intent far darker than pest control.

“We were paid to kill the little girl,” the man growled, his eyes boring into yours with malicious purpose. “The one who is set to inherit Driftmark. Where is she?”

Your heart stopped. They wanted Celeste. Your daughter. 

Desperation clawed at your insides, but you forced yourself to remain calm, though your voice trembled as you spoke. “I have many things in here of great value,” you said, your mind racing to stall, to buy any time you could. “You can take whatever you want. Jewelry, gold…”

The man sneered, pressing the blade just a fraction closer, enough to make your skin prickle with fear. “We’re not here for trinkets,” he spat. “We’re here for the girl.”

The suffocating pressure eased as the man shoved you away, though he kept his dagger trained on you, its sharp point a constant threat.

“Lead us to her,” he snarled, “and you will live.”

Your pulse quickened, panic rising. But amid the terror, you clung to one thought: Jungkook was just outside, standing guard by the children’s room. He would protect Celeste.

Heart pounding, you forced your legs to move, stepping cautiously toward the door of your chamber. The rat catchers followed closely, one of them pressing the dagger against your back, a constant reminder of the danger lurking just inches away.

By the time you reached the door, your eyes caught a glimpse of movement. Jungkook — his back against the wood, waiting, ready. His gaze met yours, and in that brief moment, you felt a surge of relief, but it was fleeting.

Before you could react, Jungkook sprang into action. In a heartbeat, he grabbed your arm and yanked you behind him, shielding you with his body. You stumbled backward, watching in awe as he unsheathed his sword with deadly precision. 

Jungkook wasted no time. His blade sank deep into the stomach of the first rat catcher, a sickening thud echoing in the hallway. The man gasped, blood spurting from the wound, and crumpled to the floor.

The second assailant, wild with desperation, swung his dagger wildly at Jungkook. But Jungkook moved with lethal grace, dodging each strike effortlessly. His movements were swift, controlled, each step calculated. In one fluid motion, he caught the man's wrist mid swing, twisting it with a force that made the man cry out in pain. Jungkook’s grip tightened, and with a brutal efficiency, he forced the attacker to plunge the dagger into his own abdomen.

The man’s eyes widened in shock, the weapon lodged deep within him, his strength faltering. Jungkook released him, and the second rat catcher staggered before collapsing to the ground beside his companion, both of them now lying in pools of their own blood.

In shock, you stood frozen, tears welling in your eyes as the reality of the moment crashed over you. Only a minute ago, you had feared for your life, for your family’s lives. And now, Jungkook had effortlessly put an end to the rat catchers, his blade on the ground still stained with their blood. It all felt too surreal, too close.

Before you could fully process what had happened, Jungkook rushed to you, his expression softening with concern. He cupped your face gently in his hands, his touch grounding you. “Your Grace? Are you hurt?” His voice was low but urgent, his eyes scanning you for any sign of injury.

You shook your head, still unable to find your voice, too overwhelmed by everything. Your heart pounded, your throat tight as you struggled to keep yourself together.

“You’re alright now,” Jungkook whispered, his thumbs brushing tenderly across your cheeks. “Everything’s okay.”

But it wasn’t. The fear, the relief, the gratitude — they all hit you at once, overwhelming your senses. And before you knew it, your emotions spilled over. You erupted into sobs, throwing your arms around Jungkook’s neck, seeking the warmth and safety of his presence. You buried your face into his skin, your tears dripping onto his armor as you cried.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate for a second. His arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you close to him, his strength and warmth offering the comfort you so desperately needed. One of his hands rubbed soothingly up and down your back while the other cradled your head, pressing you gently against his chest. His heartbeat, steady and strong, was the only thing keeping you grounded amidst the chaos of your emotions.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he murmured into your hair, his voice soft and calming. “You’re safe now.”

And in that moment, in his arms, you believed him.

After Atticus learned about the rat catchers’ attack, his fury was swift and intense, shaking the very walls of the Red Keep. His voice thundered from the Small Council chamber, echoing through the halls as he took command of the situation. His anger wasn’t just justified — it was terrifying. No one dared stand in his way as he set out to make sure something like this could never happen again.

You sat in your children’s room, seeking comfort in their innocent presence. Even as you tried to calm your racing heart, the distant roar of Atticus’s orders only heightened the gravity of what had nearly occurred. He wasted no time doubling the guard, placing knights at every vulnerable corner of the Keep. The added protection was meant to reassure, but for you, it only underscored the severity of the danger that had almost taken your daughter.

Atticus was relentless in his pursuit of justice. He immediately dispatched his men to find out who had hired the rat catchers. It wasn’t long before the truth came out — your former Maester hadn’t been acting alone. There were more, many more, who shared his poisonous view that Celeste, your little girl, had no right to inherit Driftmark. These men, clinging to their outdated belief that only a man should rule, had conspired to end her life before she could ever sit upon the Driftwood Throne.

Those who were caught speaking against Celeste’s claim were dealt with harshly. Atticus showed no mercy. He threw them in the dungeons without a second thought, ensuring that any who dared oppose your daughter’s future would be silenced. In this, he was steadfast, and you were grateful for his fierce protection of your family.

But even with the threat supposedly contained, the fear hadn’t left you. That night still clung to you like a dark shadow, creeping into your thoughts when you least expected it. The memory of those men — of their knives and their cruel threats — replayed in your mind every night, a loop you couldn’t break free from. 

Sleep was becoming harder to find. You would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the attack pressing down on your chest. Even with Jungkook stationed just outside your door, standing as your silent guardian, the sense of unease never fully faded. You trusted him more than anyone now, knowing he had saved you without hesitation, but your mind couldn’t silence the what ifs. What if something happened to him? What if the guards missed something? What if they came back?

Tonight was no different. The room was quiet, your children safe in their beds, but your thoughts raced. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind outside felt like a reminder of how close you had come to losing everything. You sat up in bed, pulling your knees to your chest, trying to calm the storm within. 

Jungkook was right outside the door — so close, and yet, the fear lingered. You knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but that night had changed everything. The vulnerability, the terror, had been too real, and you couldn’t just forget it. Even though the Red Keep was locked down, even though Atticus had done everything in his power to keep you safe, you were haunted by the thought that danger still lurked just out of sight.

You couldn’t sleep. The quiet room, the stillness, your own thoughts circling endlessly — it was too much. You knew that tonight, like so many others, you’d be awake until the sun rose. So, with a sigh, you slipped out of bed, crossed the room, and quietly opened the door.

And there he was.

Jungkook stood just outside, his back to you, ever vigilant. When the door creaked softly, he turned, eyes meeting yours. In the faint light of the moon, his features were softened, yet his gaze was alert, concerned. The gleam in his eyes caught the moonlight, and for just a moment, the comfort of his presence made the world feel a little less daunting.

“Your Grace?” he asked, his voice low but steady. “I thought you’d be abed by now.”

“I can’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice quiet but laden with the weight of sleepless nights and endless worry.

“You’re safe now,” he said gently, his tone firm yet soothing, as if trying to will your mind to find peace. “Allow yourself to rest.”

You managed a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You said you’d be here if I ever needed anything.”

His brows furrowed slightly as he nodded, understanding your unspoken request. “I did.”

You hesitated only briefly before speaking again, your voice softer now. “Can you come in?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and he straightened. “Your Grace, I hardly think that is appropriate,” he replied, though his tone was more uncertain than firm. His sense of duty and propriety clashed visibly with his desire to help you.

“It will comfort me,” you said, the vulnerability in your voice enough to make him falter.

He hesitated, clearly torn. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword as if it could ground him in the face of your request. His loyalty to you was absolute, but the boundaries of it were something he grappled with now.

Seeing his hesitation, you added, teasing softly, “Your Queen demands you.”

That earned you a small smile, one that softened the tension in the air. Jungkook shook his head, chuckling under his breath as he conceded. “Well, who am I to deny my Queen?” he said, stepping past the threshold.

As Jungkook entered the room, his mere presence brought with it a sense of security you hadn’t even realized you’d been yearning for. His eyes never left yours, filled with a mix of concern and quiet understanding, as you led him over to the couch by the fireplace. 

You settled yourself on one side, pulling a blanket over your legs as you crossed them beneath its warmth. When you glanced up, you noticed he hadn’t joined you yet. Instead, he stood a little distance away, unsure, his posture stiff as if still on duty.

“Sit,” you gestured to the empty space beside you.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering to the door as if he still wasn’t sure this was the right thing to do. But your gentle command was enough to sway him. With a slight nod, he moved closer, his heavy footsteps softening as he reached the couch. Just as he was about to sit, you spoke again, your voice quiet but firm.

“Take off your armor.”

He froze, eyes wide as if caught off guard by your request. “Your Grace,” he said slowly, his tone almost a warning, a reminder of the boundary he believed needed to remain in place.

But you shook your head, your expression soft but insistent. “I don’t want you here as Ser Jungkook,” you explained, your voice carrying a vulnerability you hadn’t meant to reveal. “I want you here just as Jungkook.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, clearly torn between his sense of duty and the comfort you were asking for. But then, with a slow exhale, he began to unfasten the clasps of his armor, the metallic clinks filling the otherwise quiet room. Piece by piece, the weight of it fell away, and he set it aside, each movement careful and deliberate.

Jungkook looked at you, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips as he gestured to his cloak. "If you would," he said softly, his eyes warm but with a hint of playful mischief.

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a bit lighter as you stood from the couch, the blanket slipping from your lap and pooling onto the floor. Your fingers brushed against his as you reached for the clasp of his cloak, feeling the cool metal as you carefully undid it. The fabric was thick and heavy, and as you pulled it off his shoulders, it seemed to take with it some of the invisible barrier he kept between you both.

The air between you felt different now, more intimate, as you set his cloak aside with the rest of his armor. When you turned back to face him, he was watching you closely, his expression softer than before, as if seeing you in a new light.

For a second, you just stood there, gazing at each other in the soft glow of the fire.

Now, without the weight of his armor, Jungkook looked more relaxed, his shoulders less tense, though there was still a quiet alertness in his posture. When you invited him to sit, he did so without hesitation this time, his expression softening as he settled next to you on the couch.

As the fire crackled gently beside you, casting a warm glow over the room, you found yourself seeing him differently. Here, sitting in your chambers, with the walls of duty momentarily lowered, Jungkook wasn’t just your knight anymore. He was a man — kind, steady, and unexpectedly gentle in his presence.

“I’ve not been able to sleep as of late,” you admitted, your voice quieter, more vulnerable than you intended. “But with you here... I feel safe.”

Jungkook’s smile was soft, a flicker of warmth that reached his eyes. “I’m happy to hear that,” he said, though his voice was still laced with the respectful formality he always carried. “Your Grace.”

You hesitated for a moment, then spoke your name, more firmly this time. “Use my name. The formalities can stay with your armor… Jungkook.”

The moment hung between you, quiet but significant. When he repeated your name, his voice was different, softer, almost intimate. It felt personal, as if you were the only thing that mattered in this room, in this moment.

Your heart fluttered hearing your name on his lips. The way he said it felt more intimate than you’d expected, and as the quiet settled around you both, you realized the walls between you were coming down even more.

“My mother died when I was four and ten,” Jungkook begins, his voice steady but carrying the weight of years of grief. “She was murdered right in front of me. I was weak, untrained... I couldn’t help her. I just stood there, frozen, and I couldn’t save her.” He pauses, his gaze distant, lost in the painful memory. “When I left the children’s chamber to go guard yours and I saw those rat catchers in there… I knew I couldn’t let you down like I did my mother. I couldn’t let that happen again.”

Your heart clenches and your brows knit in sorrow, completely torn by his story. His words hang heavy in the air, the realization of his past weighing on your chest. You feel both gratitude and guilt — glad that Jungkook trusts you enough to open up, yet heartbroken by the trauma he’s lived through.

It suddenly makes sense — why he’s always so guarded, so precise, so fiercely loyal. You understand now why he was trained in combat at such a young age, why he’s so vigilant, and why he holds himself to such a high standard. His devotion to you, his protection of your family, it all stems from a promise he made to himself long ago, a promise born from tragedy.

You reach out, placing a gentle hand on his arm resting on the back of the couch, your touch warm and comforting. Jungkook’s gaze flickers to where your hand rests on his arm, and then back to your face, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“You’ve done well to uphold that promise,” you say softly, your voice filled with sincerity. As your eyes meet his, you offer him a genuine smile, hoping it conveys the compassion you feel. “Your mother would love the man you’ve grown to be, Jungkook.”

For a brief moment, Jungkook’s eyes soften, his usual stoic expression breaking. He looks almost vulnerable, as if the weight he carries is shared, if only for a second.

“Thank you,” he says softly, his voice low and sincere. “I find myself very… protective over you.”

You tilt your head slightly, a teasing smile curling at the corners of your lips. The soft glow of the fire casts a warm light over your face, and your eyes seem to shimmer with curiosity. “Why is that?” you ask, a playful lilt to your tone as you watch him.

Jungkook hesitates for a beat, his dark eyes holding yours. He slowly pulls his arm away, the loss of contact leaving your skin colder than you expected. But before you can fully miss the warmth, you feel the feather light touch of his fingertips brushing down your arm. His touch is slow, deliberate, sending a tingling sensation across your skin, awakening something inside you.

Your breath catches as his fingers trail lower, the gentle path they take igniting a flutter in your chest. When his hand finally finds yours, his touch is warm and firm, his fingers lacing with yours like it was meant to be all along.

Jungkook looks down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing tenderly over the back of your hand as if testing the waters. “It’s more than duty now,” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with something deeper. He looks up, his eyes meeting yours, and you can see the vulnerability there, something raw and unguarded. “I can’t explain it fully, but… it’s like you’ve become more than just someone I’m sworn to protect.”

His gaze lingers on your face, searching for a reaction, and you feel a mix of emotions swirling within you — curiosity, anticipation, and something that feels dangerously close to longing.

Your lips part slightly, your heart hammering in your chest as the room feels smaller, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. “More than duty?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook’s fingers tighten just a little around yours, grounding you in the moment. His eyes soften, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yes… much more than duty,” he says, his voice tender yet filled with a quiet intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls, but all you can focus on is him — on the warmth of his hand, the depth in his gaze, and the way the space between you seems to shrink with each passing second.

With his fingers still interlaced with yours, Jungkook gently pulls you closer. The sudden shift brings you nearer to him, and you let out a soft giggle, feeling your cheeks heat up as you blush under his gaze. The warmth of his body, the way his eyes are fixed on you — it sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

As the distance between you vanishes, your breath catches when you realize his gaze is locked on your lips. It’s intense, and it makes your heart race. You watch, spellbound, as he lifts his other hand slowly. His thumb brushes tenderly across your bottom lip, the pad of his finger soft against your skin. The simple, teasing touch sends a wave of warmth washing over you.

He lingers there for a moment, rubbing your lip, and then his thumb presses just a little more insistently, grazing the slit of your mouth as though silently asking for permission. The unspoken question in his eyes makes your pulse quicken, and you instinctively part your lips in response. His thumb slips inside, and you close your mouth gently around it, letting him in.

Your eyes remain on him as his thumb rests against your tongue, the sensation both intimate and electrifying. The fire crackles in the background, but the world feels muted, like it’s just you and him in this moment. Your heart pounds, and the connection between you grows stronger as you suck lightly on his digit.

Jungkook’s breathing becomes slightly uneven as he watches you, his eyes darkening with something deeper, more primal. He gently withdraws his thumb, his fingers now tracing the curve of your jaw, his touch both firm and tender. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

The air between you is thick with anticipation, the moment heavy with the promise of what’s to come. His forehead rests against yours, and for a heartbeat, time seems to stop.

“We should stop before things go further,” Jungkook whispers, his voice low and husky, the warmth of his breath tickling your lips as he gives you the chance to pull away.

You pause, your heart racing in your chest. “We should,” you whisper back, the words lingering in the air between you both.

But neither of you move.

Instead, your gaze remains locked on his, and you can feel the heat radiating between you, the unspoken desire that lingers in the small space that still separates you.

And just like that, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is electric, his lips soft yet insistent as they press against yours. It’s slow at first, a tentative exploration, but the moment your mouths meet, everything else fades into the background.

As your lips remain locked with his, you straddle his lap, the movement seamless and natural, as if you’ve both been leading up to this moment for far too long. Your hands slide behind his head, fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair, tugging lightly as the kiss grows more heated, more desperate.

Jungkook’s hands find your waist, gripping you firmly, and the sensation sends a shiver down your spine. You feel his muscles tense beneath your fingertips as you press yourself against him, your hips moving instinctively. A soft gasp escapes your lips when you feel the hardness beneath you, his cock straining against the fabric of his breeches, the friction making you yearn for more.

Your hips begin to buck slowly, grinding against him as you search for more contact, more release. The heat between you two is palpable now, your breath mingling with his as the kiss deepens, tongues tangling in a rhythm that matches the slow, steady roll of your hips. Every shift of your body sends a wave of pleasure through you, and you can feel his grip tighten on your waist, his breathing growing heavier.

Jungkook lets out a low groan against your lips, the sound vibrating through you, igniting something primal. You can feel the restraint he’s holding onto, the tension in his body as he struggles to keep control, but the way his hands grip your waist tells you he’s just as lost in the moment as you are.

The friction between you both builds, the heat intensifying, but the layers of fabric between you only heighten the desire, making you ache for more.

“Perhaps I should thank you,” you whisper against his lips, your breath hot and teasing as your hips roll against him, causing a deep groan to escape from Jungkook’s throat. You can feel him hardening beneath you, his body responding despite his attempts to maintain composure. “For your service…”

His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your sides just enough to make you feel how much he’s holding back. “It is only my mere duty,” he says, voice strained, each word laced with barely controlled desire.

You smile at his restraint, your lips moving to brush against the sharp line of his jaw. “You’ve done so much,” you murmur, your lips trailing lower, leaving a warm path down his neck, just beneath his jaw. His skin is soft and warm, and his pulse races beneath your touch. You hear his breath catch as you kiss along his collarbone, each word punctuated by a slow, deliberate press of your lips. “For me…” You move lower, your kisses more intentional, feeling his chest rise and fall more rapidly under your touch. “For my children…”

His hands twitch on your hips, torn between pulling you closer and letting you continue your slow, torturous descent. When you glance up at him, you see the way his dark eyes watch your every movement, clouded with need, a silent plea for more even as he struggles to keep himself grounded.

"I think you deserve a reward," you whisper, your voice sultry, teasing as your lips hover just above the edge of his tunic. Your fingers slowly, deliberately trace the hem, brushing against his heated skin as you make him wait, drawing out the anticipation.

Jungkook's head falls back, his lips parted as he releases a shaky breath, his control slipping with every passing second. His voice is a low growl, thick with longing. “You owe me nothing,”

You shake your head softly, your lips grazing the exposed skin of his chest. “I owe you everything,” you whisper back, your voice filled with sincerity and seduction, the intensity of the moment building as your hand moves lower, testing the boundaries of his restraint.

His body tenses beneath your touch, but his hands stay firm on your hips, holding you against him as if he’s afraid to let go. His eyes meet yours again, dark and full of raw emotion, his voice hushed, almost reverent. “I am yours,” he breathes, and in that moment, you know that he means every word.

With a soft smile playing on your lips, you slowly lift yourself off his lap, feeling the tension in the air as you lower yourself to the ground, kneeling between his legs. Jungkook watches you closely, his breathing uneven, eyes darkened with a mix of anticipation and restraint.

You place your hands gently on his thighs, feeling the heat radiating through the fabric of his breeches, his muscles tense beneath your touch. You start slow, allowing the moment to settle between you, your fingers tracing soft, deliberate circles along his thighs, teasing without rushing. Jungkook’s breath hitches slightly, his gaze locked on your every movement, as if entranced by the sight of you at his feet.

With a deliberate slowness, you begin to untie the laces of his breeches, savoring the quiet rustling of fabric as you pull them off completely, your fingertips brushing against his skin, making him shiver. You take your time, your eyes never leaving his, a playful gleam in your gaze as you watch his resolve crumble little by little.

His cock springs free, finally released from its tight confines. Jungkook lets out a low groan, the sudden release of tension sending a wave of relief through him. The sight of him, hard and ready, makes your breath catch, but you don’t rush. Instead, you rest your hands on his thighs again, grounding yourself in the warmth of his skin, feeling the subtle flex of his muscles beneath your palms.

You glance up at him, and the intensity in his gaze sends a thrill down your spine. His lips are parted, his breath heavy, and you can see the restraint in the way he grips the couch, knuckles white, fighting the urge to take control.

You spit into your hand before wrapping it around his cock, feeling its warmth and weight resting in your palm. You start slow, allowing him to adjust to the sensation, your fingers curling around him with a firm but careful grip. As your hand begins to move, sliding up and down in deliberate, teasing strokes, Jungkook's head falls back against the couch. A low, breathy moan escapes his parted lips, his chest rising and falling more heavily with each breath, betraying his struggle to hold onto his composure under your touch. His muscles tense, eyes fluttering shut, as the pleasure builds with each movement.

His reaction fuels you, and you keep your pace slow and sensual, your hand gliding smoothly along his length. Each movement draws another sound from him — whether it’s a quiet sigh, a deep groan, or the way his breathing catches for a split second. The power you hold in this moment, the way his body responds to your touch, makes the air between you feel electric, alive with tension.

Jungkook’s fingers dig into the cushions beside him, as if holding on for control, but you can see the way his restraint is unraveling, bit by bit. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his lips parted in silent bliss, eyes closed as he surrenders to the sensation.

With a mischievous smile, you tighten your grip just a little, adding the slightest bit more pressure as you continue to stroke him, and his moan deepens, sending a shiver through you.

You lean in, teasingly slow, letting the anticipation build. Jungkook’s breath hitches as he watches you, his chest rising and falling faster, his hands tightening into fists. The moment your tongue makes contact with the tip of his cock, his body tenses. You start with soft, delicate kitten licks, testing his sensitivity, letting him feel every light flick of your tongue as you work.

A bead of precum gathers at the tip, and you lap it up, the salty taste lingering on your tongue. Jungkook’s groan is deep, almost guttural, his head tipping back against the couch once more as you tease him with your soft licks, never giving him more than just a taste of what’s to come.

The way he reacts, the way his body trembles under your touch, only spurs you on. You take your time, savoring the control you have over him, feeling the way his thighs tense beneath your hands.

You glance up at him through your lashes, enjoying the sight of Jungkook completely lost in the moment, his lips parted, breath heavy. His reaction fuels your desire to tease him more. Your tongue moves slowly, deliberately, swirling around his sensitive tip, while your hand continues its steady rhythm, pumping him with just enough pressure to keep him on edge.

He moans again, low and deep, his hips instinctively bucking up, searching for more of that friction you’re so teasingly withholding. You hum softly, the vibrations making his cock twitch against your tongue. You take him a little deeper, wrapping your lips around the head, sucking gently as you let your hand pump the base, building the tension.

Jungkook’s hands grip the couch tightly, fighting to stay still, his body betraying him with every small thrust of his hips. You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you suck, your tongue working against the underside of his shaft as you slide him further into your mouth. His response is immediate — his body jerks, a strangled groan escapes him, and you feel his hands twitch as if he’s fighting the urge to reach out and grab you.

You reach up and intertwine your fingers with his, and in that simple gesture, a new layer of intimacy blooms between you. His grip is firm, almost desperate, as if holding your hand is the one thing grounding him in the intensity of the moment. It's no longer just about desire; it's something deeper, more vulnerable, a connection that transcends the physical. His thumb gently brushes over your knuckles, a soft, tender contrast to the raw passion swirling around you. That small touch, full of unspoken emotion, speaks louder than words ever could, reminding you both that this is more than just a fleeting moment — it’s a quiet, shared promise.

Jungkook’s breathing becomes even more ragged as you continue to take him deeper, your lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to push him closer to the edge. You can feel his restraint, the way he’s holding back, trying to stay in control despite the pleasure coursing through him.

He groans, your name slipping from his lips in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. You hum softly in response, the vibrations causing another moan to escape his lips. The combination of his hand in yours, his soft gasps, and the warmth of his skin beneath your touch creates an almost overwhelming sense of connection.

You pull off him with a soft, wet pop, leaving his cock glistening in the firelight. Your lips curve into a teasing smile as you drag your tongue slowly along the length of his shaft, watching his reaction. Jungkook’s breath catches, his body tensing with anticipation. When you reach his base, you let your tongue dip lower, tracing a path to his balls. You take your time, licking and teasing the sensitive skin before gently sucking them into your mouth.

The reaction is immediate — his hips jerk up involuntarily, a deep moan escaping him as his head falls back against the couch. His knuckles are white as he grips the cushions, and his fingers tighten around yours, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the moment. You keep your eyes on him, enjoying the way his face contorts with pleasure, his lips parting with a shuddering breath.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice rough and strained, the sound vibrating through the air, sending a thrill through you. His chest rises and falls heavily as you continue to pump his cock in your hand, your strokes slow and deliberate, matching the rhythm of your mouth as you suck gently on his balls.

You can feel the tension building in him, his body trembling slightly under your touch. His muscles are taut, straining as he tries to hold himself back, but you know he’s close. The soft, breathless curses he murmurs between groans let you know just how much you're driving him to the edge.

Jungkook’s mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more intoxicating than the last. The feel of your mouth wrapped around his cock is overwhelming, your lips warm and slick as they glide over him, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. But what makes his pulse race even more is the sight of you — the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms — on your knees before him, your eyes dark with desire, lips wet and swollen as you take him deeper.

He can barely process it. A part of him feels like he’s lost in a dream, but the grip of your hand on his thigh, the soft, wet sounds filling the air, and the heat of your mouth around him all ground him in reality. His fingers tighten around yours, the intimacy of your entwined hands a stark contrast to the lust coursing through him.

He can’t stop thinking about how utterly beautiful you look, your regal composure gone, replaced by raw want. It’s sinful, how he can feel his cock throbbing in your mouth while your crown sits not too far away, a reminder of who you are — his Queen. And yet, here you are, on your knees, giving yourself to him so completely.

And then there’s the thought of what comes next. His cock twitches at the idea of getting you beneath him, of spreading your legs wide and burying himself in your warmth. He’s desperate to feel you around him, to watch your face twist with pleasure as he takes you, over and over again.

But even with all those thoughts swirling in his mind, one thing keeps echoing louder than the rest: the sheer power of this moment. The Queen, on her knees, sucking his cock like she’s wanted this as much as he has.

The thought sends another wave of heat through his body. He’s barely holding on, every moan, every stroke of your tongue pushing him closer to the edge. His breaths come faster, more ragged, his hips beginning to move on their own, thrusting gently into your mouth. 

Before Jungkook can take control, you pull back, rising from the ground and denying him the release he craves with a teasing smile. His frustrated groan fuels your confidence as you straddle him again, your knees resting on either side of his hips. Your fingers intertwine with his, and you guide both of his hands behind his head, locking your arms around his neck. His arms cross behind him, muscles flexing as he fights to keep himself in check.

The intensity in his eyes is undeniable — burning with desire, frustration, and the raw need to touch you, yet restrained by the control you've taken. Every part of him is taut, his body tense beneath you, waiting, aching for your next move. His gaze never wavers, fixed on you with an almost desperate longing, as if the anticipation alone could undo him.

You lean in slowly, planting a soft kiss on his lips, then another on his cheek, your breath brushing his skin. His chest rises and falls against yours, the heat between you both building to a near unbearable height. Then, lips grazing his ear, you whisper in a low, sultry voice, “I want you to fuck me the way a Queen should be fucked.”

Your words send a shudder through him, his body reacting instantly to your challenge. The restraint he’s been holding onto falters, his breathing turning ragged, his grip tightening slightly on your hands. The dominance of your demand ignites something primal in him, the heat in his gaze searing into you.

"Your Grace..." Jungkook murmurs, his voice deep and breathless, the title slipping out before he can stop it, laced with a mix of reverence and raw, uncontained desire. The slip into formality catches him off guard, as if he’s forgotten to leave the titles behind along with his armor. His jaw clenches, the tension in his body palpable as his control begins to fray at the edges. His eyes burn into yours, dark and hungry, as if your very presence has set him ablaze, and now, all he can do is watch helplessly as the flames consume him.

You feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself back, and you smirk, rolling your hips against him, letting the friction drive him further into madness. “Are you going to make me wait, or must I command you again?”

That’s all it takes. His resolve snaps. With a low, feral growl, Jungkook releases your hands and grabs you by the thighs, lifting you effortlessly in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised giggle, heart racing at how easily he’s carrying you across the room. His strength, his commanding presence — it’s intoxicating, making your body heat with anticipation.

With a mischievous grin, he throws you down onto the bed, your body bouncing softly against the mattress. Jungkook is on you in an instant, crawling over you with a predatory grace, his body looming above yours, eyes dark and filled with intent. His hands press into the mattress on either side of you, caging you beneath him. The weight of him, the way his muscles ripple as he moves, has your breath catching in your throat.

His lips hover just inches from yours, teasing, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers, “I’ll show you exactly how my Queen should be fucked.”

There’s a rough edge to his voice now, one that sends shivers down your spine. His hands trail down your sides, fingers curling around the fabric of your dress, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion. He takes a moment to admire the sight of you beneath him, his gaze smoldering as he drinks in every inch of your bare skin.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Jungkook’s lips descend to your neck, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your throat, your collarbone, and lower still, as his hands grip your hips, holding you firmly in place. His touch is everywhere — greedy, relentless — stoking the fire that’s been building between you all night.

As his mouth moves lower, a soft moan escapes your lips, your body arching instinctively toward him, craving more. And just when you think you can’t take any more teasing, he pulls back, hovering above you once more, eyes dark with lust and promise.

Jungkook pulls off his tunic, standing before you, fully bare. His gaze is unwavering, filled with awe and raw desire as he drinks in the sight of you, every inch of your body drawing him in with quiet reverence. The heat of his stare is palpable, his lips parting slightly as his eyes travel from your breasts down to your stomach, pausing at the faint stretch marks left behind by your children. 

There’s no shame in his gaze, only admiration — those marks are a testament to your strength, the life you’ve brought into the world. His hand reaches out, hesitating for just a second before brushing over your skin, tracing the delicate lines with his fingertips, as if memorizing every detail. His touch is tender, contrasting the heat in his eyes, and the reverence in his expression makes your heart swell. 

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice hushed but filled with sincerity, almost as though he's speaking to himself. The way he looks at you makes your heart swell. There’s no hesitation in his gaze, no second thoughts — just pure admiration.

You can’t help but smile. Despite being nearly bare beneath him, you don’t feel vulnerable. You feel cherished, worshipped even, as if this wasn’t the first time he’s seen you like this. There’s a sense of ease between you, as if his presence was always meant to be like this — intimate and without fear. 

Jungkook leans in closer, his lips trailing down to your hip bone, placing a soft, lingering kiss there. The sensation is both grounding and electrifying, sending a shiver through your body. You glance down, meeting his gaze — intense and burning with desire, the kind of look that makes your heart race and your breath falter. In that moment, you can feel the fire behind his eyes, as if the world has fallen away and you're the only thing that matters.

Without breaking the connection, he lowers himself further, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The kiss is soft, reverent, but full of promise, inching closer to the place where you crave his touch the most. Your breath catches in your throat, anticipation thick in the air, when he finally leans forward and presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your pussy through your soaking wet underwear.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the sudden contact, and instinctively, you lift your leg, gently pressing your foot against his shoulder to stop him from going further. His eyes flash with surprise, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in them as he looks up at you, waiting for your command.

“Maybe another time,” you murmur, your voice breathless but firm. “I want your cock.”

Your words hang in the air, heavy with anticipation, and Jungkook’s expression shifts, darkening with pure lust. He gives a low growl of approval, his hands gripping your thighs a little tighter as he quickly moves back up your body.

Jungkook wastes no time, his hands quick but careful as he pulls off your last piece of clothing and positions himself between your legs. His cock, already hard and slick with anticipation, brushes against your entrance, the warmth of him sending a ripple of electricity through your body. You can feel the tension in his muscles, every inch of him taut with restraint as he fights the urge to simply take you. He wants this moment to be more than just a rush of desire.

With a slow, deliberate nudge of his hips, he presses the tip of his cock against your core, the sensation both tantalizing and overwhelming. Your body reacts immediately, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he teases your entrance, the heat between you intensifying. His eyes are locked on yours, as if he’s savoring every second before fully sinking into you. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in closer, urging him to give you exactly what you’ve been yearning for. His lips crash onto yours in a heated kiss, the moment charged with raw, unspoken passion as he finally pushes into you.

“Oh Gods,” you moan, your back arching off the bed as the sudden stretch overwhelms you. Jungkook fills you completely, every inch of him pressing into you, making your breath hitch as your body adjusts to the delicious pressure. His movements slow for a moment, letting you feel every bit of him, the weight of his body grounding you as the heat between your legs spreads throughout your entire body.

Jungkook’s forehead drops to yours, his breathing ragged as he holds himself still, giving you a moment to adjust. "You feel so perfect," he groans, his voice thick with restraint. His hands roam your body, gripping your hips as though he needs to hold onto something to keep himself from losing control completely.

Your fingers slide up his back, nails grazing his skin as you tug him closer, desperate for more. "Move," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I need you."

That’s all it takes.

With a low growl, Jungkook begins to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, the sensation sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. Each movement is deliberate, deep, and measured. Your moans mix with his breathless grunts, filling the room with the sounds of your shared desire.

Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper with every thrust. His pace quickens, and soon, he’s moving faster, harder, the rhythm building as the pleasure between you grows. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, your moans growing louder, more desperate as you cling to him, completely lost in the moment. 

Jungkook’s lips find your neck, peppering kisses along your skin between ragged breaths. “You feel so good… so fucking good,” he pants, his hips snapping against yours with growing urgency. 

Your hands tangle in his hair, your body responding to his with a need that’s been simmering for so long, now finally unleashed. "Don’t stop," you moan, your voice shaky as the heat within you builds to a breaking point. 

Jungkook’s thrusts become erratic, his breath hot against your ear. "Don’t think I can stop," he chuckles, his words sending a shiver through you just as the first waves of release begin to crash over you. 

You kiss him eagerly, teeth grazing his bottom lip before tugging at it playfully. Jungkook groans into your mouth, his hips stuttering for a moment at the sensation. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more heated as your hands pull him closer, your nails digging into his back.

He responds in kind, his lips crashing back onto yours, the intensity of his kiss matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He bites gently on your bottom lip in return, making you gasp into his mouth, your bodies completely in sync as the pleasure mounts between you.

Your kiss is a frenzy of passion, tongues dancing, breaths mingling, as every movement pulls you closer to the edge. You tug harder at his lip, and he growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips and sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins.

Jungkook’s pace becomes relentless, his control slipping as he loses himself in you. “The day of the Kingsguard posting,” he starts breathlessly, his voice low and rough as he thrusts into you. “When you walked onto the balcony… I saw you. Thought you were so pretty. So, so pretty.”

His words, spoken between ragged breaths, send a shiver down your spine, making you arch closer into him. You gasp, your hands clutching onto his shoulders as his confession wraps around you like a heated secret. The intensity in his eyes as he speaks, as he moves inside you, is overwhelming — his vulnerability laid bare, a part of himself he’s never shared with anyone else.

“I shouldn’t have thought it,” he continues, his voice thick with desire and restraint as his pace quickens, “but I couldn’t help it. I wanted you from that moment.”

You feel your heart pound in your chest, not just from the pleasure but from his raw honesty. Your lips part, but no words come out, only breathless moans as he pushes you closer to the edge. His hands tighten on your waist, his lips brushing your ear.

“I never thought I’d have you like this,” he whispers, his voice rough with awe and hunger, each word laced with the weight of unspoken desire. “But now that I do… I’m never letting go.”

His confession wraps around you, sending a shiver through your body as his movements become more intense. The passion in his eyes, the way his body presses into yours, has you spiraling, lost in the heat between you.

You raise a trembling hand, gently brushing his hair back, your fingertips lingering against his skin. “I’m yours,” you breathe, the words slipping from your lips like a vow.

The way his eyes darken, the way his grip tightens on you, tells you he’s heard it loud and clear. And in this moment, you know he’ll hold onto that promise as tightly as he holds onto you.

He laughs out a moan at this. His pace quickens, his thrusts deeper, harder, each one sending you spiraling further. Your moans mix with his, filling the room, the sound of skin against skin only adding to the fire between you. His hands roam your body, memorizing every curve, every inch of you like it’s the last time.

“I’m so close,” he whispers, his voice strained, his body trembling as he fights for control. His forehead presses against yours again, his eyes searching yours, desperate, as if he’s asking for permission to lose himself in you.

You nod, your own release building, teetering on the edge. “Cum with me,” you breathe, your voice shaky, your heart pounding in your chest. “Please.”

With a few more deep, powerful thrusts, you feel Jungkook’s body tense as he releases into you, a low groan escaping his lips. The sensation triggers your own climax, waves of pleasure crashing through you as your body tightens around him. You gasp, arching against him, your hands clutching at his back as you ride out the overwhelming sensations together.

His name tumbles from your lips in a soft moan, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. For a moment, the world outside fades — it's just the two of you, tangled together, hearts pounding in sync, as you both come down from your highs.

He doesn’t move right away, his weight still pressed against you, his hands tracing slow, soothing circles on your hips as he catches his breath. You can feel his heart beating wildly against your chest, a silent reminder of the intensity you just shared.

Finally, Jungkook picks his head up from your chest, his dark eyes soft as they meet yours. He leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, just because he finally can. It feels different now, with no hesitation between you, just pure connection. After pulling away, he shifts to lay beside you, pulling you against his chest, your bodies fitting together perfectly. 

You lie there in comfortable silence for a while, both of you catching your breaths, the calm after the storm. Jungkook’s fingers absentmindedly trace shapes on your back, lulling you into a peaceful haze. But then, he breaks the quiet with a teasing tone.

“Did I exceed your expectations, my Queen?” His voice is low and playful, a soft chuckle escaping him.

You laugh, swatting his chest lightly. “Arrogant, are we?” 

But you don’t let him respond. Instead, you sit up, straddling his waist once again, your grin mischievous as you lean down to kiss him, deeper this time, your lips lingering against his. 

“Might need to go again to give you a wholehearted answer,” you say with a smirk, looking down at the man who looks far too comfortable in your bed — a man who, by all means, shouldn’t be here.

His eyes widen for a moment before a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, matching your energy. He chuckles, his hands gripping your waist firmly, his desire evident.

Jungkook knew that once the children were tucked safely into bed, these sneaky nights with you would be his favorite part of the day — full of far more excitement than he’d ever imagined.

The days stretched on like endless hourglasses, the sand moving far too slowly. Every moment of the daylight hours was consumed by anticipation, the constant pull of wanting the sun to sink and the moon to rise. It was during the night, when Jungkook would slip quietly into your chamber, that the world finally felt right.

Whether it was tangled sheets, quiet conversations, soft laughter, or simply lying in each other’s arms, those moments with him were the highlight of your days — only second to the joy of your children’s smiles, of course. But with Jungkook, time seemed to bend, each night feeling like a stolen treasure that you cherished more with every passing hour.

As much as you despised the act of walking past Jungkook during the day, pretending he wasn't your lover at night, the thrilling game of trying not to get caught was undeniably fun.

The secret, the tension of it, had its own special allure. Yet, there were moments when the near misses took a more terrifying turn.

Like that one time.

You'd been soaking in a bath, the water warm and fragrant with bubbles, the steam swirling around you like a blanket of comfort. But Jungkook, always unpredictable, had snuck in without a sound. Before you could even protest, he was stripping himself bare, sliding into the tub with you, the sudden shift in water making a small splash as he settled in.

Laughter filled the room as water overflowed, but that quickly faded into a mix of heavy breaths, wet skin, and the sound of sloppy kisses. Jungkook's hands gripped your waist as he leaned back, his head resting against the tub's edge, eyes locked on you. Your hips moved in sync, the sound of water splashing and your soft moans combining with his groans, creating a rhythm that made your heart race.

Then, just as the heat between you both reached its peak, a knock at the door shattered the moment. It was so sudden and unexpected that Jungkook's hand shot up, covering your mouth before you could release a gasp, freezing you in place. Your breath caught, heart pounding in your chest.

"Your Grace, I have your warm towels," came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. The maid sounded so oblivious, so unaware of what was actually happening just beyond the wooden barrier.

Jungkook didn't move a muscle, still as stone, his hand resting over your lips as his eyes met yours with a mischievous glint. Slowly, he lifted his hand, urging you to speak.

"J- just leave them at the door," you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heartbeat betrayed your calm facade. "I’ll grab them once I'm finished."

Jungkook stifled a chuckle, clearly finding the entire situation amusing as though it was nothing more than a joke to him. But you knew better. This was dangerous, reckless, and could cost both of you far more than just embarrassment.

"Very well, Your Grace," came the maid's voice, before the sound of her footsteps faded into the distance.

The moment she was gone, you slapped Jungkook's chest, eyes narrowed in mock fury. "We could've been caught," you said, your voice laced with both exasperation and something else — something darker, more thrilling. But the smile that tugged at your lips betrayed your feigned seriousness.

Jungkook grinned, his chest rising and falling with a quiet chuckle, as he pulled you back toward him, the playful tension still lingering in the air.

Because nights with Jungkook were always too short, he made sure to steal as many kisses and playful winks during the day as possible. The fleeting moments shared between you were like stolen treasures, hidden in plain sight.

Whenever the children finished their lessons, Jungkook was quick to position himself in front of the door to the next room they’d move into, knowing you'd soon follow, eager to check on them and hear about what they’d learned. Each time, like clockwork, you’d approach, ready to step past him, only for him to block your way with a teasing grin.

“Let me in,” you’d whine softly, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

He’d simply point to his cheek, signaling for a kiss as if he were making a royal decree. You’d roll your eyes but play along, leaning in. Just as your lips brushed his cheek, he’d turn his head swiftly, catching your kiss on his lips instead.

Your heart would race as you quickly pecked his lips once more, a mixture of thrill and worry filling you at the thought of someone walking down the corridor and catching you both. With a final flustered glance at him, you’d hurry into the chamber to join your children, trying to maintain your composure as you asked them about their day.

Meanwhile, Jungkook would stand tall outside the door, his expression serious, as though he was merely guarding the room. But the sparkle in his eyes and the lingering hint of a smile betrayed him, the playful mischief still present even as he forced himself to appear composed.

The only person who knew about your secret relationship with Jungkook was Atticus. You’d confided in him, and he had been overjoyed to learn he’d been right all along. He had always suspected something, but hearing it from you only fueled his excitement and pride at being in on the secret.

Jungkook’s devotion to you went far beyond his duty as a knight. On the surface, he played his role flawlessly, always by your side, always vigilant. To everyone else, he was simply your loyal protector, the ever watchful guard who would give his life without question. But beneath that armor, beneath the stern facade he wore in public, his loyalty ran much deeper.

He wasn’t just devoted to you as his Queen; he was devoted to you as the woman he loved, with a fierce, unshakable passion that transcended titles or obligations. Every time he stood by your side, it wasn’t just as your sworn knight but as the man who would do anything to keep you safe, even if it meant loving you in secret for the rest of his life.

In the quiet moments, when the world wasn’t watching, his love shone through. The way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way his fingers lingered just a moment longer when they brushed against yours, or the way his lips would curl into a faint smile when he caught you stealing glances at him. It was in the way he held you at night, after everyone else had gone to bed, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that spoke of a love so deep, words could never do it justice.

Jungkook didn’t need grand gestures or declarations of love. His devotion was in the small things, the quiet sacrifices, the way he protected you not just with his sword but with his heart. Every glance, every touch, every whispered word in the darkness was a testament to his unwavering loyalty — not to the crown, not to his duty, but to you.

And though the world might never see the depth of his devotion, you felt it every day. In the way he watched over you, in the way he shielded you from not only physical threats but from the weight of loneliness that sometimes crept in. He was your protector, not just in body but in spirit.

As the years passed, your secret love remained hidden, but his devotion never wavered. No matter the risks, no matter how many times you had to pretend in public that he was nothing more than a knight, Jungkook’s heart was yours, fully and completely.

In the end, it didn’t matter that the world would never know the truth. You knew. You saw the way he loved you, not just as a knight sworn to protect you but as a man devoted to your heart, forever bound to you in a way that went beyond duty or title.

And in that devotion, you found your peace. Because you knew, no matter what happened, Jungkook would always be by your side — not just as your protector but as your lover, your confidant, and the one person who truly understood the depths of your soul.

© voyter 2024, all rights reserved.

[xbinksc]

RUMOURS AND REVELATIONS

PT 2

⭒❃.✮:▹Nicholas Alexander Chavez

SUMMARY: singer Y/N and co-star Nicholas face rumors of romance amid their chemistry and rising fame, navigating media scrutiny while strengthening their bond. Where will all this take them?

WARNINGS: real mushy at the end, looooong

A/N: Requests are open! Still can’t figure out how to make a master list rip someone help me…Enjoy🤍

✧༺༻∞

In a surprising turn of events, Monsters star Nicholas Alexander Chavez and singer Y/N were seen enjoying a cozy night out at a popular cafe in Los Angeles last night. The duo, who play alongside each other in the upcoming series Grotesquerie, appeared to be having a great time, laughing and taking pictures with fans, sparking speculation about their off-screen relationship.

Eyewitnesses described the pair as "playful" and "affectionate," with Nicholas even wrapping an arm around Y/N during photos—a move that sent fans into a frenzy!

This public outing comes just days after news broke of Nicholas’s breakup with his ex-girlfriend, prompting fans to wonder if the split was influenced by his growing bond with Y/N. The timing has many fans theorizing that "The Boy Is Mine," Y/N's latest hit song, is a not-so-subtle nod to the love triangle drama.

Sources close to the pair have revealed that they have been spending significant time together both on and off set, which has only added to the swirling rumors. An insider claims, “They have an undeniable connection. It’s clear they enjoy each other's company.”

The pair’s chemistry has been undeniable throughout filming, leading fans to question whether their relationship is purely professional or if there's a budding romance behind the scenes. Social media is buzzing with reactions, with many supporters urging the couple to "just be together already!"

While neither Nicholas nor Y/N has officially commented on their relationship status, their fans are eagerly awaiting any updates. For now, the rumors continue to heat up, leaving everyone wondering: Is it just a friendship, or is there something more?

Stay tuned as we follow this developing story!

INSTAGRAM

@/ynuser: werk ♡

Comments

@/user gorgeous gorgeous girl

@/user I need the next ep of grotesquerie NEOW😵‍💫

@/zaralarsson trying not to say mother

- @/ynuser donatella VERSACE💜

@/user girl please tell me the rumours are true I won’t snitchhhh

@/nicholasalexanderchavez 🤓

-liked by @/ynuser

@/user my new flex is I met Nicholas and y/n last night😛

@/kyliejenner obsessed with u😍

@/user okayyyyy Nicholas I see you👀

- @/user we need a ship name ASAP

- @/user bro they’re so cute I cannot

- @/user not y’all supporting a homewrecker

COMMENTS TURNED OFF

IRL

The night was heavy with a storm, clouds gathering like dark thoughts in the sky. Nicholas sat in his living room, the flickering light of his candles casting dancing shadows on the walls. He stared blankly at the flick of his phone screen, each notification a new reminder of the whirlwind that had enveloped his life. Articles dissected every moment with you, twisting your innocent laughter into scandalous headlines.

A sudden, frantic knock shattered the stillness. His heart skipped as he opened the door, revealing you, your face streaked with tears, vulnerability spilling over in the soft glow of the hallway light.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, pulling you inside and closing the door behind you. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Nicholas,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you sank onto the sofa, burying your face in your hands. “The rumors… they’re unbearable. And I keep thinking about your ex—she must hate me. I don’t want to be the reason for any hurt.”

Nicholas moved to sit beside you, concern etched across his face. “You’re not a homewrecker, Y/N. This isn’t your fault.”

“But I met her. I saw how hurt she was,” you whispered, your eyes brimming with regret. “What if she thinks I came in and ruined everything?”

Nicholas felt a pang of sorrow for both women, caught in a whirlwind of feelings beyond their control. “You didn’t ruin anything. Our relationship had its own complexities. It’s not fair to blame you.”

You looked up, your eyes searching his. “Then why do I feel like I’m drowning? Every article, every rumor, it all makes me feel like I’m stuck in this web. And I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt because of it.”

The tension in the room hung thick, an unspoken truth waiting to be unraveled. Nicholas took a deep breath, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. “Maybe we should talk about where we stand. We can’t keep avoiding it. This anxiety… it’s tearing us apart.”

Your gaze softened, and you nodded slowly. “You’re right. We’ve let this consume us. But where do we even begin?”

“Let’s start with the truth,” he suggested, his heart pounding. “What do we really feel about each other?”

The question lingered in the air, almost fragile in its intensity. You hesitated, your heart racing. “I care about you, Nicholas. More than I thought I could. But I’m scared. Scared of what this means, and how the world will react.”

Nicholas leaned closer, the space between the both of you crackling with a mixture of tension and longing. “I feel the same. You’ve become so important to me. I don’t want to lose you, but the noise outside… it makes everything complicated.”

“Do you think it’s worth it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can we really separate our professional lives from this… whatever this is between us?”

He considered your words, weighing them carefully. “We can try. But we need to be honest with ourselves. We can’t let the pressure of the world dictate our feelings.”

Your expression shifted, a flicker of hope igniting in your eyes. “So, we give it a real shot? Just… discreetly?”

“Yes,” he replied, a smile breaking through the weight of the moment. “We can keep our lives separate while exploring this connection. I want to see where this can lead us without the distractions.”

The relief washed over you like a balm, and you took his hand, the warmth of his touch igniting something deep within you. “You make me feel seen.”

“You make me feel understood,” he admitted, his heart swelling. “In a world that often feels chaotic, you’re my calm.”

Just as you both began to find your rhythm, the storm of stress outside began to seep in. “But what if people don’t understand? What if they twist our relationship again?” Your voice trembled, a hint of frustration creeping in.

Nicholas felt his own anxiety bubble up. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we just ignored them. We can’t let every rumor dictate our reality!”

“That’s easy for you to say!” You shot back, your voice rising. “You’re not the one facing the scrutiny every single day!”

“Neither are you! We’re in this together!” he countered, the tension escalating as your emotions collided.

You both paused, the heat of the argument hanging in the air like a taut string ready to snap. You took a shaky breath, your eyes wide. “Wait… are we really mad at each other?”

Nicholas blinked, realization dawning. “No, we’re not. We’re just… stressed. This whole situation is making us take it out on each other.”

You nodded, the tension slowly dissipating. “You’re right. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just all so overwhelming.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I get it. We’re in the same boat, fighting the same storm. Let’s breathe for a second.”

“Let’s breathe,” you echoed, the weight of the moment shifting from confrontation to understanding. You took a few deep breaths together, grounding yourselves in the presence of each other.

“Maybe we should focus on what we can control,” Nicholas suggested softly. “Like how we communicate. We don’t have to let this stress tear us apart.”

“Agreed,” You replied, a small smile breaking through the remnants of tension. “We’ll work through it together.”

You shared a moment of silence, your hands intertwined, the soft rhythm of your breaths echoing in the space between you. Each pulse of your hearts seemed to sync, bridging the gap of uncertainty that had kept you apart.

“Can we just enjoy being together without all the noise?” You asked, your eyes sparkling with a blend of mischief and sincerity.

“Absolutely,” he replied, a grin tugging at his lips. “Let’s find joy in the little things—coffee dates, late-night talks, quiet moments where it’s just us.”

As you spoke, the heaviness of the outside world began to dissolve, replaced by a gentle warmth. Laughter bubbled between you, lightening the mood as you reminisced about your time spent on set, the shared glances and stolen smiles that had made everything feel electric.

Nicholas found himself enchanted by your laughter, a sound that felt like music, lifting them both above the fray. “You know,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes, “you owe me a karaoke night. I expect a duet.”

“Deal,” you replied, laughing through your tears. “But only if you promise to keep your mic in check. No sudden high notes!”

Your playful banter melted into deeper conversations, the night unfurling like a flower, revealing petals of honesty and vulnerability. You spoke of dreams, aspirations, and fears, each revelation drawing you closer together.

But as the clock ticked on, reality loomed like a specter at the edges of your newfound intimacy. “This isn’t going to be easy,” You said, your expression sobering. “The world won’t stop watching.”

“I know,” Nicholas replied, his voice steady. “But we have to stay true to ourselves and each other. As long as we communicate, we’ll find our way through.”

You smiled, a warmth spreading through your heart. “Then let’s take it one step at a time.”

The moment stretched between you, a fragile yet beautiful thread connecting your hearts. “What if it doesn’t work out?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Then we’ll still have this moment,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “This is ours, regardless of what happens later.”

As the night deepened, you shared a quiet moment, eyes locked, the understanding between you solidifying into something undeniable. In the midst of chaos, you had carved out a sanctuary, a bond that felt like the softest whisper against a storm.

When you finally stood to leave, a mix of reluctance and exhilaration coursed through you. “This was… everything I needed. Thank you for being here.”

Nicholas walked you to the door, feeling the glow of possibility surrounding him. “I’ll always be here for you. Remember that.”

With a shared look of promise, you stepped into the night, the world outside still tumultuous but your hearts intertwined in a newfound hope. As Nicholas closed the door behind you, he felt the glow of possibility surrounding him.

[littlejuicebox]

Astarion talks in his sleep.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav (Shadowheart is our lovely supporting role though.) Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3, "good/spawn" Astarion ending, all fluff Rating/Warnings: PG / Very mild if any game spoilers but nothing related to major content or scenes Word Count: 900+ Notes: Inspired by this post here!

-----

Astarion talks in his sleep. It’s something you’ve never mentioned to him, because it’s mostly when he’s having a nightmare about Cazador or some other horrid trauma from his past. You'd quickly determined it not worth bringing up, for fear of embarrassing him. Plus, if you were being honest, part of you found it rather endearing... especially the lighter drabble that would escape his lips. Delighted giggles, little purrs... it could be overwhelmingly adorable, on occasion.

In fact, the first time you ever heard him say he loved you was in his sleep. Then you'd waited weeks… anxiously, impatiently, unbearably for the revelation to come out while he was awake, under his own terms.

But tonight, the talking and tossing isn't cute. The vampire writhing in bed disturbs you, and your eyes flutter open, catching the smallest glimpse of daylight between the thick, tightly drawn curtains and shuttered windows of your bedchamber. You'd just fallen asleep, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't the slightest bit annoyed.

You idly try to figure out the date. Adjusting your schedule to the night life was… difficult; you often lost track of dates nowadays. But somehow you manage to remember that it's been nearly six months since you all saved Baldur's Gate; six months since Astarion had been returned to a creature of the shadows. Six months you've been in the house provided by the city as you two adjust to whatever normalcy you are able to conjure up and figure out your next steps. You were a strong proponent for the Underdark; Astarion was not quite sold.

At first you think the silver-haired elf's tossing and turning is a night terror… it’s been nearly two weeks since the last one. He’s overdue. You ready yourself to pop out of bed and grab your calming herbs to steep a quick sleeping draught. But then you hear him, soft and garbled, laced with thick strings of sleep.

“Will you marry me?”

You turn to stare stupidly at the elf, eyes piercing through the blackness of your room; his face is obscured, you cannot tell if he’s awake. “…what did you say?”

Silence. A long, unbearable stretch of silence where your heart is pounding into your throat, practically rattling around your chest cavity at the sudden shock. And then he’s snoring again, and you’re left with your brow furrowed and robe half pulled onto your shoulder. Well, so much for your sleep.

You meander down the hall to the kitchen, where Shadowheart has several jars and plants strewn across the table. She’s practically taken over the kitchen since Gale left, not that you particularly mind, since she’s also taken over the cooking.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep right now?” She asks, spotting you out of the corner of her eye, not lifting her focus from the mortar and pestle in her hand.

“You won’t believe what Astarion just said in his sleep.” You murmur in dazed response, walking over to the cabinets and rummaging through the contents. You grab an old kettle and fill it with water, turning to look at the cleric.

“Gods, what was it? I’m quite thankful to be out of the camp... his night terrors woke all of us up at one point or another. It's no wonder you’re struggling with the schedule adjustment.”

“He said, ‘Will you marry me?’” You respond, almost giggling at how silly that sounds in retrospect, as you place the kettle on the stove.

Shadowheart pauses. One, two, three beats of silence. “Shit… well, I guess the cat is out of the bag now.” She murmurs with a shrug, before returning to grinding her herbs.

“Wh-what?!”

“Oh, come off, don’t be daft! You had to expect it would be coming sooner or later. Gods, your love is almost sickening… it was sickening, having to hear it all the time... once again, so thankful for the separation of these walls.”

You are frozen, your hand still holding onto the kettle as you appraise your friend. Shadowheart is right. You knew a proposal would come sooner or later… you just figured it would be much later. Astarion was still struggling; more often than not you woke to him in tears or in the throes of a sleeping fit. Countless calming elixirs and teas had been drawn up by you and Shadowheart in the last six months. Truly, you hadn’t thought he was thinking that deeply about it... you hadn't been, if at all. Gods, you two still didn't even know where you were headed after leaving this city-supplied house... the lease was up in a few weeks' time.

“I guess… well, I suppose I didn’t think he was ready.” You sigh, lighting the stove and sitting across the table, watching the cleric as she works.

“Oh, trust me, he’s ready. And he's certain. Perhaps not about anything else... but definitely about this. He's been writing to Gale for weeks trying to source a particular ring." Shadowheart responds, now pouring the contents of her grinder into pouches. "Just promise you'll act like it's a surprise when the time comes... he's been talking about it for a while. He's put a lot of thought into things."

"When will it be?"

Shadowheart laughs, the edges of her eyes crinkling as she flicks her gaze toward the ceiling. She’s now cinching the sachets and sorting them all into a nearby basket. "Now that I'm not telling you. I've already given away too much."

You try for a few more minutes to pry the information from your friend, but she remains tight-lipped. You even threaten her with detect thoughts, though you both know you'd never go through with it. Finally, a whistle from the kettle beckons you back to the stovetop, and the conversation is halted as you ready your tea and aim to go back to bed. You might not know when your love is going to pop the question, but you do know that when the time comes, your answer will be a resounding yes.

Click here for Part 2

[s1llyalabaster]

Haii! Can i request ratio x gn!Reader who is always clingy and clings to ratio everywhere they gotta whether it's holding his arms, or his fingers, or anything, even when they sleep reader always clings to him, ratio can't event get out of the bed ini the morning cuz how tight their grip is. Idk man just a though at 2am lol

WAAAAGH this is such a cute idea!!! I'm so sorry that I wasn't able to pump this out faster and earlier but here it is anon!! (Gonna be doing bullet point for this because I can't really think of how to put multiple scenarios into one whole fic)

Like Dust on an Alabaster Head - Veritas Ratio

Just like what the title says, where reader clings to Ratio like a speck of dust on his alabaster head. ~300 words , SFW

◘ I can imagine you, Ratio, and other researchers sat at a meeting where you're supposed to concentrate and take notes etc, but *THE* Doctor just somehow ends up clenching his jaw in slight embarrassment when you two link fingers or even nudge your foot at his.

◘ ANON YOUR IDEA OF THE BED SCENE IS SO CUTE AS WELL LIKE?!?!?! Imagine Ratio, having a seminar to attend in the morning, using every atom in his body to slowly slip out of your (quite strong) grip. But he ultimately fails as your body somehow works like a bear trap, detecting the movement of that of Vertias'.

◘ Another scenario would be when you two have an off-day, you'd just be always attaching your fingers to his body when you two go on a walk, or spend some time in the library. Despite his half-assed remarks to keep your hands off him, from his body language itself, it seems that he doesn't think it's as unbearable as he says it is.

◘ Your clinginess even shows in text! Dr. Ratio doesn't really text much, even with his accquaintannces, let alone his coworkers. So when he leaves his phone on his work desk without care, his coworkers are shocked to see him reply to your flirty messages or sticker spamming on the dot, not even seconds sparing. You know how phones can have custom "do not disturb" modes? He probably has notifications on only for you 24/7 and ignores everyone else's.

◘ Currently obsessed over domestic malewife! Ratio SO what if you wrap your arms around Ratio when he's cooking or doing chores, and he's trying to pry them off to avoid any danger hazards but you're just clinging on like an octopus or a koala..... GOT ME SO SOFT

◘ Your clinginess would definitely grow TENFOLD when you're tired and you'd be asking him to piggyback carry you around the house until you're satisfied (your last ounce of awakeness decides against doing so in public).

◘ I have a feeling Dr. Ratio would be the "appears touch repulsed but is actually touched starved" type, so sometimes he does really appreciate your clinginess and you taking the initiative to touch him, hug him, kiss him and whatnot. It'll take some time for him to work up the courage, or in his words "stoop so low as to ask for touch like an idiot", to ask for kisses etc.

[sciderman]

Sorry if someone else already asked this but out of the Deadpools in any animated adaption which one is your favorite?

fortnite

okay kidding, i've never played fortnite but i love watching him do the dances. i'll rate all of the animated deadpools i guess. all the animated deadpools that i know of.

hulk vs wolverine

5/10 i think this might be the first animated deadpool i'd ever seen. and he's okay. i don't like nolan north's voice, really. i know a lot of people love him. i think his voice is pretty plain jane and his delivery is nothing special. mind you this wade doesn't have a lot of funny things to say anyway. this whole film is so very mid and so forgettable. marvel animation generally is really mid and forgettable. also he's such a scrawny little twink. i like my wades beefier. 5/10 for being one of the most ordinary, inoffensive, mid portrayals of deadpool ever.

deadpool (the game)

3/10 yeah i don't know, i hate this guy. nolan north yet again but his voice is slightly less plain jane and more rocket raccoon here. not into it. this game sprouted all the worst interpretations of deadpool ever and for that it must pay dearly. three stars because at least his tits are massive. but i hate his stupid pinhead.

ultimate spider-man deadpool

8/10 yeah he's the best one the west has to offer. sorry. he is. his jokes are funny. he is completely insane. he upstaged spider-man in every way a deadpool should. he's a scene-stealer. he has the presence. he has the hips. he has the thighs. he has my heart. one of my first ever exposures to deadpool and the start of a downward spiral for me. he loses two stars because DEAR GOD his voice is UNBEARABLE but. the episode is a masterpiece if you hit the mute button. i wanted to write a fic about him to flesh out his lore because honestly i'm really interested in this specific presumably teenaged wade wilson who was digested by the shield system and came out of it a mercenary. wade i was a teenage mercenary wilson. i want to know everything about him. i'm obsessed with him.

marvel disk wars

10/10 he is SO cute and i think i'd die for him. he lends himself to anime so so well, and the japanese just know how to do deadpool. he's a spider-man fanboy and every bit the attention whore he's meant to be. he knows how to give his chimichangettes what they want. the crotch shots. the unrelenting barrage on the 4th wall. but he also has a good heart at the end of the day. he's everything to me.

marvel's future avengers

10/10 obligatory, for being basically just a continuation of the prior deadpool but in a new series. he is very wife. the art is better but the animation isn't. but he's so. so cute. look at him. look at his gwumpy little faaaace look at HIIIIIM...

the japanese do just know how to do deadpool. his sole motivation in all of these is literally just to hog screentime. that's literally all he's there for. he's just a spotlight hog. all he wants is attention, and for them to make cute anime figures of him. he's the most valid deadpool ever. i think.

[iovebarca]

hii, could you write something about the reader being fermins sister and is secretly dating gavi? they have these cute little secret meetups in her room but fermin then catches them and isn’t very pleased🫠 you can end the fic however you want:) (i hope for fluff tho lmao)

tyy!💞

Hidden Hearts - Pablo Gavi

Authors note: thank you for a 100 followers like thats crazyyy

Warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), my first language isn't english so if you notice any mistakes please tell me, not proofread

WC: 1350 ish

Summary: basically what the request says:))

The late afternoon sun casts a warm, golden glow through your bedroom window, illuminating the soft, pastel colors of your room. The air is filled with the scent of fresh flowers from the bouquet Pablo brought you earlier. He sits across from you on the bed, his hand gently holding yours as you talk in hushed voices, the familiarity and comfort between you undeniable. Every secret meeting with him feels like stolen moments of pure happiness.

You're both aware of the risks involved, especially living with your brother Fermín, who is not only overprotective but also Pablo's close friend. The thought of him finding out about your relationship has always been daunting. Yet, in this moment, with Pablo's warm eyes gazing into yours, the world outside seems distant.

Pablo leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. Just as you're about to deepen the kiss, you hear the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. Panic sets in, but there's no time to react. Fermín's voice calls out, "Y/N, are you home?"

Before you can even think of an excuse, the door to your bedroom swings open. Fermín stands there, his expression shifting from confusion to shock and then to anger as he takes in the scene before him. "What the hell is going on here?" he demands, his voice low and dangerous.

"Pablo, get out," Fermín says, his tone brooking no argument.

Pablo looks at you, worry etched on his face, but he nods and reluctantly leaves the room. The silence that follows is heavy and uncomfortable. Fermín turns to you, his eyes flashing with hurt and betrayal. "How long has this been going on?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Fermín, I can explain—"

"How long?" he repeats, more forcefully this time.

"Six months," you admit, tears welling up in your eyes. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Too late for that," he says coldly before turning and leaving the room.

The next few days are unbearable. Fermín barely speaks to you, and you know from Pablo that he's ignoring him at training too. The weight of the silence in the apartment feels crushing. You hate seeing your brother this way, but you also can't bear the thought of losing Pablo.

One afternoon, as Fermín heads out for training, you see him talking to Pedri. They stand by the door for a moment, and you can tell by the way Pedri glances your way that Fermín is telling him about you and Pablo. A little while later, you receive a text from Pablo saying that Fermín has been distant and cold during training, avoiding him completely.

The following evening, you’re sitting alone in the living room, the silence around you pressing in. You can't take it anymore. You grab your phone and text Pablo, asking him to meet you at the park. The same park where you shared countless secret moments.

When you arrive, Pablo is already there, sitting on the bench where you first confessed your feelings for each other. He looks up as you approach, his eyes filled with concern. "How are you holding up?" he asks softly.

"Horrible honestly," you admit, sitting down beside him. "I hate seeing Fermín like this. I hate that he's hurt."

Pablo wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. "We'll get through this," he says firmly. "We just need to give him time."

As the days pass, the tension between you, Fermín, and Pablo remains palpable. You try to go about your daily routine, but everything feels off. The laughter and easy conversation that once filled the apartment have been replaced by awkward silences and curt exchanges. One evening, you find Fermín in the kitchen, staring out the window. Gathering your courage, you approach him.

"Fermín, can we talk?" you ask quietly.

He turns to you, his expression guarded. "About what?"

"About everything," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "I hate this. I hate that you're upset and that you're hurt. But I love Pablo, and I need you to understand that."

Fermín sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's not just about you loving him. It's about trust. You and Pablo kept this from me. That hurts."

"I know," you say, tears welling up in your eyes. "And I'm sorry. We were scared of how you'd react. We didn't want to lose you."

He looks at you for a long moment before nodding slowly. "I get it. But it's going to take time for me to get over this."

Meanwhile, at training, Pedri watches Fermín closely. He sees the way Fermín avoids Pablo, the way his shoulders tense up whenever Pablo is nearby. During a break, Pedri approaches Fermín.

"Hey, what's going on with you lately? You've been off," Pedri says, his tone gentle but firm.

Fermín sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's Pablo and Y/N. They're dating. And they kept it from me."

Pedri nods thoughtfully. "I get that you're upset, man, but have you thought about why they might have kept it a secret? Maybe they were scared of exactly this reaction."

"They should have trusted me," Fermín mutters.

"True, but love makes people do crazy things," Pedri replies. "Do you really think Pablo would ever hurt her? And you know your sister better than anyone. If she's with Pablo, it's because she loves him. Maybe you should talk to them, understand their side."

Fermín looks down, the anger in his eyes slowly giving way to something softer. "I don't know, Pedri. It's just... hard."

"I know it is," Pedri says gently. "But pushing them away isn't going to help. You're all friends, and family. Don't let this break that."

That evening, Fermín comes home and hesitates outside your door before finally knocking. "Can we talk?" he asks, his voice much softer than before.

You nod, motioning for him to sit. He takes a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. "I'm sorry for how I reacted. I just... I was hurt. But I realize now that I didn't give you a chance to explain."

You take his hand, squeezing it gently. "I never wanted to hurt you, Fermín. I love Pablo, but I love you too. You're my brother, and that will never change."

Fermín nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I just want you to be happy. Both of you."

Later that night, Pablo joins you and Fermín in the living room. The atmosphere is tense at first, but as the evening progresses, it starts to feel like old times. By the end of the night, Fermín pulls you both into a hug. "Let's not keep secrets anymore, okay?"

"Agreed," you and Pablo say in unison, relief flooding through you.

As the three of you sit together, laughter filling the room, Fermín suddenly turns to Pablo, his expression serious. "But Pablo, remember this: if you ever break her heart, I will break you. Understood?"

Pablo nods earnestly, "Understood. I promise I'll never hurt her."

Fermín's stern face softens into a smile. "Good. Now, let's order some pizza and enjoy the rest of the night."

In the days that follow, things slowly return to normal. Fermín starts to thaw towards Pablo during training, and the playful banter between them begins to reemerge. One afternoon, after a particularly grueling session, Fermín claps Pablo on the back.

"Good job today," he says, a genuine smile on his face.

Pablo grins, relief washing over him. "Thanks, man. Means a lot."

Back at the apartment, you and Fermín find yourselves talking more, sharing stories and laughing like you used to. One evening, as you're all sitting together, Pedri joins you, and the four of you share a meal, the camaraderie and bond stronger than ever.

As the night draws to a close, you look around at your brother, your boyfriend, and your friend, feeling a profound sense of gratitude. Despite the challenges and the initial hurt, love and understanding have prevailed.

[glitteryapricotranchbiscuit]

♡ Imagine Al-Haitham has enough of your whimpers ♡

!● warnings: gn!reader, anal, slight exhibition, getting caught, dom!al-haitam, very smut, NSFW🔞 no minors or I’ll eat u alive

notes: ngl, this was super fun to write, i do remember i had to tag someone for this one, but idk who it was again 👁👄👁 forgive me, my child

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Al-Haitham's hand covering your mouth fully, while he slightly angry pushes you against the book shelf in the Akademiya. Both of you were behind good cover unless someone comes across the corner to encounter a spicy scene. "Do not make any sound, understood?" He says quietly but loud enough into one ear of you, starting a tingling sensation all over your body. Making your legs shiver and weak. You of course could only nod. "You teased me the whole day more than enough."

That was true. Since you only came to the library of the Akademiya to gather some information about your studies, you end up teasing Al-Haitham. You pretended to let something fall so you could bend over seductively to show him your pretty ass. Giggling like a little brat. As if that wasn't enough, you also sneaked down under his desk to kiss and caress his crotch. Of course, after his meeting with Cyno, you run off to the library. And now he caught you, having enough of your games.

Reaching down to your panties, he presses his clothed member against your ass. "This is what you done to me... I don't want to hear anything coming out from you." It was clear for you, but moving was still allowed. So did you press your ass further to his harden length, grinding up and down. Al-Haitham accidentally let slip a quite moan out of his mouth, before biting down on you shoulder. You've heated him enough to just get rough fucked anywhere by him.

His hands now reached behind your panties, caressing you sweetly. He let go of his bite and kissed on it. The other hand still on your mouth, squeezing it shut. After a while he moved his exploring hand to his pants. He just opened a little hole which allowed his member to be free. He let a relieved sigh out and put down your pants. For your surprise he let go of your mouth, before pushing his fingers inside your wet mouth. "Come on, make them nice wet." You nod with a cute little moan before he took his wet finger down to your ass, preparing you for himself.

Adding at first one finger, wanting you to adjust to the feeling, before adding his second one inside of you. Moving unbearable slowly inside of you, making you whimper. Even now he can not shut you down, which lets him push you harder against the shelf. Good thing, the shelf was behind a wall or else it would fall down. “Shut up… I am not done with you.” You shut your eyes in fear not to be pleased how you liked it from Al-Haitam. But as soon as you relax and try not to moan out his name, he slowly pushes himself inside you. “Fuck… so tight…”, he said, clearly you weren’t ready yet to be pushed inside but he did not cared. It hurted for you and he noticed it. He lets go of his hands on your mouth and caresses your back. “It’s okay, try to relax… I will make this fast.” As soon as his warm hands massage your back a bit, you start to relax and let his size adjust inside of you. You let out a sigh before saying: “O-okay, you can move now~” With a soft smile you looked behind you, straight to his face. Knowing well that he will right away move his hips, groaning lowly. The way his dick now moves out and then fully inside your ass was a very pleasant show to look at. It felt amazing for him and slowly for you too. It took some more thrust until you felt him brush over your g-spot, making you gasp. “R-right there~” You started to get louder and moaned a bit. But he immediately put his hand again on your mouth, pushing himself deeper inside you, while not stopping grinding. “Shut up, we aren’t alone here. Or is it your intention to let people know how much of a whore you are?” Your eyes rolled back of the thoughts someone might catch you having sex with Al-Haitam. It made your legs weaker with every push inside of you, your hands trying to hold on the shelf but slipping away. Causing a book to fall down, but Al-Haitam was focused to fuck your ass. Neither of you guys stopped your movements, both too focused on the pleasure. But someone noticed what you both were doing. It wasn’t his intention to see his college fucking one of the Akademiya dearest student, neither was his intention to watch you guys.

Al-Haitam was close to filling you up, so he let go of your mouth causing you to breathe loud and tried to hold your moan inside. Even though Al-Haitam told you to shut up, he was into the good feeling sunken and started to get sloppier with each hard thrust into you. Letting you shiver again, feeling your own orgasm build up too. “F-fuck, take everything…!” He breathes out through his teeths while spurting his seeds inside you. Your tongue was out, eyes behind your back, not wanting to moan out. As soon as Al-Haitam’s breath calmed down, he slipped out of you. His dick half hard, but soon getting soft. Perfect to go back to work. 

A loud cough caught you and Al-Haitam to heat up, looking at the person standing with crossing arms in front of you guys. “Both of you are banned from the library for two weeks. This is still a public place.”, Cyno said, putting back the book which dropped down earlier.

[lynxindisguise]

Lovely Lynx what kind of lovesick loser behaviour do little teenage wolfstar commit while they are dancing around each other??

oh god it's actually unbearable, bat.

to set the scene, remus is more aware and also afraid of his feelings, so he's consciously trying to smother the gay thoughts while sirius's brain is a never-ending parade of "moony would love this where is moony have to remember to tell moony about this funny thing that happened what's moony doing why isn't he paying attention to me oh a werewolf question can't wait to tease moony about it..."

sirius magically links their notebooks so they can write notes to each other in class. when remus is ignoring him (i.e. actually taking notes), sirius draws cute little doodles of them. remus cries over these doodles at night and dramatically stages spilling his tea the next morning to hide the tear stains.

remus gifts sirius a jumper for his birthday because he's sick of sirius stealing his jumpers and looking so gorgeous and cuddly and getting his scent all over them. sirius feels deeply hurt by this but can't put his finger on why.

sirius gifts remus his own book back for his birthday, but he's annotated it with inside jokes and underlined sections that remind him of their friendship except most of these sections feature a romantic couple. remus is so overwhelmed that he becomes physically ill.

remus accidentally lets an "I love you" slip while he's giving padfoot ear scritches and forms an elaborate plan to assume a new identity.

sirius doesn't actually like being flirted with, but he brags about it to remus every single time it happens because he subconsciously wants remus to find him desirable. remus copes by entering the soggiest of slut eras.

[plutoccult]

OUT OF THE WOODS

pairing: levi ackerman x gender neutral reader

description: you were notorious for following levi’s every order without hesitation. it was practically unbearable for him, but the one time you disobey him is when he is eternally grateful.

word count: 2.8k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: this is something i’ve never done before aka write for levi! i’m hoping i haven’t strayed too far from his character, but it’s worth trying something new. i must admit, this is a little messy and i’m quite iffy about it, but i at least tried my best. i almost named this “the monsters turned out to be just trees” because i 1. love taylor swift and 2. thought those lyrics captured this almost perfectly, but i decided it was too long and just went with the song title those lyrics are from. this is something entirely new and never before posted anywhere else, but it will also be shared on ao3 as everyone has their preferences on where they like to read. as always, i hope you enjoy <3

you always obeyed levi’s every order, and god, he hated it.

“yes, captain.” you’d say. “right away, captain.” was another one of your go-to phrases. you could just… talk to him? like a normal human being? yes, he was your captain, but levi craved a normal conversation with you.

oh, wait. why did he want that so badly? why did he want to hear your voice say things other than replying to his commands for you and the squad? it’s not like he liked you. no, no! he couldn’t stand you. that’s what this was. right?

levi was particularly known for only listening to commander erwin’s orders and no one else’s, but he didn’t see himself of such importance. it wouldn’t kill you to protest a little bit for once. he even tested your obedience by demanding you glue a broken vase back together. you then proceeded to spend hours restoring it to its former glory. he was surely impressed, but at the same time, he couldn’t believe you actually did it. dare stubborn ol’ levi ever admit it, but he found it kind of cute.

when it came down to the 57th exterior scouting mission, your final order was simple; retreat back to your horses. things didn’t exactly go as hoped, and while the scouts learned something new that day, there was still so much work to do. you wished for everyone’s sake that one day you all could share a proper victory, but it didn’t seem possible just yet with something as stubborn as the female titan.

you and the rest of levi’s squad did as told, but it all went by the wayside when gunther was attacked out of the blue by a figure hidden under the disguise of your scout gear, their green hood concealing their face. there was no time to go along with the plan, now was time to fight back. the squad couldn’t let whoever killed their comrade get away.

as you all attempted to attack, the disguised assailant transformed in front of your very eyes into the female titan you all failed to successfully capture before. now this truly meant war, but the squad was simply no match for this monster.

it all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. you lost your squad members one after another. you were the last one remaining, you knew this was it. this was your time to die, wasn’t it? part of you always thought it would end in the middle of battle, but not like this. this couldn’t be the end. you didn’t want it to be.

your brain struggled to catch up with everything happening so fast and hitting you all at once. it was impossible to think straight, to get your head together and fight properly. but it was also impossible to realize eren was turning into his titan form until it was too late. the impact of his transformation knocked you straight into a tree, leaving you unconscious as he avenged your fallen squad members, all while your captain had yet to head to the scene of the crime.

levi immediately knew something was wrong the second he saw the sudden glow of eren’s transformation from afar. of course there was something more to this mission. he had to get there quick before it could possibly get any worse, but his idea of “any worse” had already become true; his squad was gone.

he couldn’t do anything to stop eren just yet, levi knew that. this fight between two titan shifters was to be expected. if only the hothead wasn’t so blinded by rage. levi knew better than to let emotions get to the best of him, no matter how much it hurt seeing his squad like this, dying under his wing.

his eyes scanned the states of everyone. gunther, eld, petra, oluo, and then… you. you, who laid there motionless. the life taken out of you, or so levi thought. he couldn’t let this affect him. levi kept all emotions hidden, tucked and buried in deep where no one could find them, no one except the one person who was capable of bringing them out.

“captain…”

huh?! was his mind playing tricks on him? who dared to deceive his ears? it couldn’t be real. it was nothing. nothing at all. you were dead, levi was sure of it, just like the rest of the squad. he was left alone once again, seemingly cursed with this fate from the day he was born.

but then you let out a cough, blood coming out of your mouth and splattering onto the grass. my god, it wasn’t some sick joke from his brain. you miraculously were alive, and levi was too stubborn to let you die out.

he immediately rushed over to you and flipped you off your side so you laid on your back. you breathed heavily and coughed violently, muttering out weak apologies as blood stained your hands, but levi didn’t care. he’d stain himself over and over for your sake.

“you disobeyed orders.” levi said, trying his best to force himself to stay his usual coldhearted self, but it was a losing battle, just like today’s mission. he placed a hand on your cheek, his eyes once filled with anger now becoming soft. “you disobeyed me.”

you could’ve sworn the sight in front of you was like seeing heaven. the impact from earlier made your memories quite hazy, and while you knew you weren’t dead, you sure wouldn’t hate it if this was it. levi’s head blocking the sun made him look like an angel sent from the very land itself, and it was pure bliss.

you closed your eyes with a smile on your face, unbeknownst to you what had truly occurred. to your captain, it seemed like you had left him for good this time, but when he pressed his ear against your chest, he felt the rhythm of your heart as if it were a symphony.

levi couldn’t stand to leave you like this. he had to make sure you got to safety and were treated right away. even if it took you god knows how long to recover, it didn’t matter. but with the female titan trying to take eren alive, he had to remember why he was here in the first place and attempt to clean up the mess the scouts created. you were able to hold out for a little while longer by some sort of miracle, and when levi was able to capture eren back with the help of mikasa, he took you back to where you belonged; with him and the scouts.

by the time you returned to base, you were fast asleep, worn out from the mission. as there wasn’t enough room for all those who were injured, levi took matters into his own hands and tended to your wounds himself, even giving you his bed as he had a much bigger room and it wasn’t like he slept that much anyway. it seemed almost wrong and unprofessional to do so, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help but be a little selfish. it’s what a good captain would do anyway, right?

after what felt like ages, you finally woke up, your mind struggling to remember everything from yesterday. you grew confused as you found yourself in what wasn’t your room, and it became even more puzzling as you saw your captain sitting in a chair next to the bed waiting for you to wake up.

the look of impatience and worry was all you could read from his face and body language. his arms crossed, index finger tapping repeatedly like a drum on his bicep. he was looking away from you, watching the wind blow on the trees outside. levi had been using that view to pass the time and keep himself calm, but it didn’t really help much. only the sound of your voice was medicine to him.

“captain?”

levi lightly jumped in his seat and turned to see your face. you had been bandaged up, not a single wound left dirty. you were also quite bruised, and you immediately winced when you tried to adjust the way you sat. you couldn’t help but wonder what happened to you. if only you hadn’t hit your head so bad.

“you’re awake.” he said plainly. he didn’t want to show too much enthusiasm and freak you out, but on the inside, levi was so glad to see you were okay. the look of confusion on your face made him worry, and he felt the need to overshare and explain what was going on. “uh, this is my room. i took care of you since there wasn’t enough help.”

“oh?” you furrow your eyebrows. “what… what happened?”

“i think i could ask you the same thing, y/n.” levi replied. he had been waiting all this time to hear the truth of what happened. you saw what had happened to your fellow squad members, but with the way you lost consciousness, you had a hard time remembering it all. you could only draw blanks, and you felt as if you disappointed your captain.

“i’m… not sure. i don’t remember. i’m sorry.” you frown.

“i figured.” he sighed. he couldn’t get too mad, but part of him longed for an explanation so he could know where everything went wrong.

“where is everyone? surely petra must have helped you with this, right?” you ask, the question paining levi without you knowing a thing. “you couldn’t have done all of this by yourself.”

levi found himself unable to think about how to go with this. he wanted to let you down easy, lessen the blow, but with that look of innocence in your eyes, you just made it so damn hard for him. “y/n, they’re all gone.”

“gone?”

“gone.” he hated having it come out so harsh, but he had to get the point across without any sugarcoating. levi couldn’t lie, it would be an incredible disservice to you.

“no…” then you began to recall all that happened yesterday; the forest, that god damn female titan, it all replayed in your mind like a never ending horror movie. “no, this is all just one big nightmare. you can pinch me now, okay?”

your delusions only made it worse for levi. he couldn’t let you fool yourself thinking there was the slightest chance they weren’t gone, but he saw, he knew. all the life had been taken out of them, and whoever was behind the monster did it so cold-heartedly. it made him seem a little more humane in the eyes of his peers, as shocking as that was.

“i found all of you scattered on the ground. i thought you died just like they did.” levi said, those last few words coming out strained as he struggled to keep it together. he couldn’t let you see him like this, no way. he had to find an excuse to leave you be so he could go somewhere and let it all out without anyone seeing him.

“this can’t be, oh god.” you sob uncontrollably, making levi uncomfortable. he felt this way because it only made him want to cry with you, but at the same time, it felt wrong to feel like that.

“i can give you space to process this.” he began to stand up, but you tug on his sleeve to stop him, much to levi’s surprise.

“no, no, no. stay.” you giving him orders? he couldn’t believe it, but he would let you stop him, just for a moment.

“it is typically me who gives orders, you know.” levi spoke deliberately.

“well.” you pause, trying to find the right words. “i order you to stay.”

and just like you always did with him, he couldn’t help but obey your order. you let go of levi’s sleeve as he sat back down in his chair, too flustered to look you in the eye.

“i just… i wanna say i’m sorry i failed the squad, but most importantly, i’m sorry i failed you.” you say, your words full of utter shame, feeling like a complete failure. it was like you had just harshly tugged at levi’s heartstrings, despite it being crazy to think that levi ackerman did in fact have a heart.

“there was nothing you could do. the female titan outsmarted all of us.” he replied in that typical monotone voice. it almost started to irritate you. you were trying to have some sort of heartfelt conversation and it seemed like he couldn’t take you seriously. levi wanted to take all of it seriously, but he continuously battled with his mind and heart, and his mind kept winning.

“but it shouldn’t have happened.” you try to protest.

“we can’t turn back time, y/n.” levi argued back.

you can’t help but roll your eyes at him, a huge shock on levi’s end. “god, your words are terrible.”

“excuse me?”

“don’t you know it’s okay to feel things, captain?” you ask him. “i know they call you “humanity’s strongest soldier,” but is being emotionless a requirement?”

he’s unable to form words. where had this fire in you come from? had it been hiding this whole time? where had this disobedient soul been during the entirety of levi’s reign? he couldn’t help but be shocked yet amazed at the same time.

“that squad was like family to me.” you say with tears streaming down your face. “i thought you would’ve felt the same way, but i guess that suspicion i desperately tried to push away was right.”

“…and that is?”

“that you never liked any of us, not one bit, especially…” your lips tremble, but you force yourself to finish your sentence. “especially me.”

when you said those last two words, levi almost gasped. it made him feel so… terrible. so goddamn terrible he knew he couldn’t let his mind win anymore. it was time he chose his heart for once. “that’s nowhere near how i feel, y/n.”

“and how is it that you feel, captain?” you question, refusing to let your tears stop you from standing your ground.

this was it. this was the moment levi would pour his heart out to you. you were a rare jewel who was capable of giving him those pangs in his chest. not everyone could do that, but you sure could without trying or realizing it whatsoever.

“all my life, i thought that there was no point in caring because you’ll lose it eventually, but…” he began to speak, almost tempted to hold back, but he refused to do so any longer. “all i’ve ever been given here is a reason to care, and i didn’t want to show it. i didn’t want anyone to see it, and i wish they could know that i did. i did care, more than what’s possible to express.”

your hardened expression turned soft. to think he didn’t have such feelings made you feel so stupid. it’s easy to judge a book by its cover, isn’t it? but you read levi all wrong. oh so wrong. “you did?”

“i do, even now. that applies to you too, you know.” levi replied without shame.

“i didn’t think it did.” you avert his gaze.

“it’s almost disgraceful to admit how often you cross my mind, y/n.” your eyes widen when those words escape his mouth. was this real life? it seemed too good to be true. levi immediately thought he crossed a line, so he tried to shut the situation down as quickly as he could without ruining this moment. “i’m sorry if that came out weird, i—”

“no, no! it’s not weird!” you swiftly interrupt him. “i… i could say the same thing.”

“you could?” he said in amazement. it was like he was completely oblivious. why else were you always so eager to obey his orders and make sure you never let him down? you wanted him to notice you, and now he has given you his attention in the best way possible.

“yes, which i guess is kind of odd considering this is the first real conversation we’ve ever had.” you say with a faint giggle towards the end. “it’s a shame it had to be under these circumstances, really.”

“i know, and i’d like more, if you do too. it’s not an order, i swear.” levi replied eagerly, which was a pleasant surprise.

“i’d like that, captain.” you grin.

“can i… give you an order though?” he asked with a bit of hesitance.

“seems like poor timing to me, don’t you think?” you question, almost tempted to laugh at him, but you were going to see where this went.

“it’s not. i just… would prefer it if you called me levi from now on, please.” as if this couldn’t get any better. levi was saying “please” to you. god, you loved it.

“okay, levi. now i have an order for you.” you say with a smirk. “have a cup of tea with me, and you’re making it.”

levi smiled at the thought of what he would say next. “right away, y/n.”

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[sondheim-girly]

I know it's not american thanksgiving yet but it is this weekend where I am so what are your thoughts on Mathews family thanksgiving? (cause their mom absolutely tries to do smt for it even if it's not much)

sorry this took me so long, I got a little sidetracked... go see my headcanons on mama mathews for context cuz otherwise a lot of this wont make sense!

-the thanksgiving after two bit is born, mollys parents reach out to her and invite her to come back to their farm for the holiday

-Molly, with some convincing from Betsy, decides to accept

-it’s a little awkward at first, but her parents are masters at pretending everything is fine when it’s not

-keith turns on the charm and makes her whole family really like him, other than Betsy

-this starts a tradition for their family to have a big reunion every thanksgiving

-the thanksgiving after Beth was born and Keith left was awful

-her family kept on making snide comments about how “of course she couldn’t even keep a man” and how shameful it is to be a single mother

-she puts up with this for a few years, until one year when she finally gets sick of it, and there’s a huge screaming match between her and her brother and her parents

-during the argument someone makes a comment about how Beth never should have been born and it’s her fault that Keith is gone, and Molly just snaps

-cuz nooo one is going after her babies, she’d give up the world for them 100 times over

-she immediately gets up and leaves, and they never go back

-the next year they try and make a nice dinner but molly cant cook for shit so they end up just going to the curtis house

-that births the new tradition of the big Curtis gang thanksgiving!

-then one year post canon Betsy reaches out saying that her husband and kids are traveling to see some extended family for thanksgiving and she decided to stay back home

-she asks if she could come to Tulsa so they can do thanksgiving together!!

-Molly is like “of course!!!!” And is absolutely thrilled to get to spend some time with her sister

-this is after Marcia and two bit start dating, and when two bit finds out that this year Marcia’s parents are working through the holiday and she won’t be having a thanksgiving dinner he insists she comes

-Betsy is good at cooking, however Molly and Beth are both atrocious

-two bit, surprisingly, is actually fucking incredible

-no one knows why, but u put him in the kitchen and he can do magicccc

-he and Betsy are put in charge of the majority of the food

-Beth tries to make the mashed potatoes because how does someone fuck up mashed potatoes?

-however she finds a way, because of course she does

-Betsy doesn’t let Molly anywhere near the kitchen cuz she’s still traumatized from mollys cooking endeavors when they were kids

-the kitchen was nearly burned down on multiple occasions back then

-Marcia volunteers to make a pumpkin pie, because she’d baked a few times when Cherry was over at her house and they got bored

-two bit comes over to ‘help’ and like… I don’t even need to talk about it I think you know how unbearably cute they were (and there may have been a minor food fight- think of that scene between Quinn and puck from glee)

-they all sit down for dinner, and stuff themselves full and laugh and talk the whole time!

-Molly decided her contribution would be decorations, so the table is beautiful with all sorts of fall colors!

-afterwards they all agree it’s the best thanksgiving they ever had

Thanks so much for asking me about this! It feels wrong for me to be talking about thanksgiving this early, but I had so much fun making these that it’s ok :)

[poetryandfluffycats]

Hii i saw your requests were open!!!

Ik that you mostly do nsfw but can you possibly do reader x chiaki (hurt/comfort) where reader is very cheery but is actually very depressed...

A/N: 1.7k worth of angst WOOHOO enjoy

Pairing: Chiaki Morisawa x fem!reader

Content: You've never felt happy, really. Your whole life has felt like an endless winter night you couldn't escape from. But, no one else needed to know that, and a little pretending never hurt anyone. Right?

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of death, mentions of suicidal thoughts(nothing graphic), descriptions of severe depression, bedrotting implied, self doubt, depressed reader, flash back scene in italics

Words: 1.7k

Oneshot under cut!

The bedroom was cold. Cold like a thick sheet of snow that blocked cars out on the road, unbearable and undeniable like the first chills of Autumn after summer ends. It wasn't that breeze that was the issue, however, in all reality that should be expected in the dead of winter when the birds huddled away in their nests and the clouds covered the sky with their dreadful greyness. What you felt was beyond the weather. It was something more, something you felt like you couldn't explain with the words you knew.

It almost felt like there was something cold within you, maybe a hole in your heart being filled with frost each time you tired to think, speak, or do anything that wasn't rotting away in this room, in this bed that couldn't warm you up no matter how many blankets were placed on top. Because the cold of the room would pass in months time, but this, the ice in your heart making you numb would never melt. And you just had to deal with that until you eventually froze over.

That wasn't fair, was it? Most people got to live a happy life without all this pain and grief, they lived for years with a bright yellow aura of happiness around them, so why not you? Who said you weren't allowed to be happy like them?

So much as you were sad, you were stubborn too. If everyone else got to be happy then so would you, damn the aching pain consuming your body on a 24/7 biases. That's where pretending came in.

/-------

"Chiaki! Baby, look at those puppies! Aren't they just the cutest, look at those tiny ears! Ah, and their tiny noses!" You squealed, bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you tugged the taller man towards the storefront window, tapping at the glass as if he couldn't see the balls of fluff running around.

Okay, you would admit, maybe the act was a bit much. The smile you put on was so forced it hurt your cheeks and your voice was so high pitched you sounded like a broken dog toy-one like the ones the puppies in the store were digging into. But Chiaki was none the wiser, the smile he wore mirroring your fake one and the sparkle in his eyes nothing but genuine. He loved you like this, a cheerful, excitable ball of sunshine who believed in the world and was full of love for him.

You didn't want to imagine how he'd react if he realised you'd been lying this whole time, putting on a front to keep him happy. He'd leave for sure, who wanted a sad sack of a woman dragging them down?

Chiaki let out a soft chuckle, slinging a arm around your waist and pulling you in closer. "They are pretty cute, aren't they?" He leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your temple, the action causing a hot red flush to your face. "But not as cute as you, wahaha!~"

Your large fake smile quickly twisted into that of a real one, something that you quickly hid by bringing your hand up to cover the bottom half of your face. The man never failed to make your ice-cold heart skip a beat, even if it were only for a few milliseconds. It was nice to feel that way.

"Aw, stop it!" You whined, playfully slapping him on the chest and snuggling into his side. "Don't act so cringe, people will start to think we're one of those weird couples always on each other!"

"I think I'm being romantic, have you know!" He huffed, feigning a hurt expression on his face. "I have such a mean girlfriend, you wound me my love"

"Don't be sad! Hmm, maybe we should go play with those puppies to make you feel better?"

Don't be sad. The words felt funny coming out of your mouth, like you weren't really the one saying it. You weren't, were you? This front you were putting up wasn't you at all. The real one who needed to hear 'don't be sad' was you.

No, no! That wasn't supposed to be the point of all this. The point was to be normal, to live a normal life despite your inner darkness. You didn't expect pity or comfort, that's what a selfish person would want. Or maybe it wasn't, and maybe you were selfish for thinking that. Wallowing in your own self-doubt never did you much good, not when you were meant to be the happiest woman in the world right now.

Chiakis beaming voice is what broke you out of your small trance. "We don't have much else to do today, so why not? You really are the best for suggesting these things"

You weren't.

/------

What a sad scrum of the earth you were. That date had only been a day ago, and yet you had already fallen back into the deepest pit of your depression that you tried so hard to conceal. The reason? Who knew, not you, that's for sure.

Faking to be happy took so much out of you, almost as if the mere idea of having any emotion other than the dread you had been living with made you weak. How pathetic was that?

The same four walls of your plain one-bedroom apartment stared down at you, taunting you like a sleep paralysis demon. The TV flickered with bright colours and images in the corner, all a blob of nonsense in your tear filled eyes, and an array of dirtied issues, empty take-out boxes and plates with food long taken out by mice and files littered the floor. Your bed might as well have been your coffin, because if you were to stay here much longer you would surely die.

That had been on your mind a lot, death. If it was here it might be peaceful, as peaceful as rotting away in your own filth could be. Your heart felt like it had been beating slower lately, perhaps a sign of premature death?

"(name)?...."

The voice was distant, but definitely there. A mans voice, soft and sweet, calling your name and beckoning you to follow. Oh, was this finally the end? Had the grim reaper come to collect your soul?

"(name)? Can you hear me?"

The mattress dipped beside you, a strong pair of arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you in. The body felt warm against your own, almost comforting as its hand reached out to stroke your cheek, wiping away the tears that had dried there. Whoever this was, they smelt nice. Like home, like a place far away from here.

"Please talk to me" The voice was louder now, whispering directly in your ear. It sounded so worried, pained, like how you felt inside.

"(name), its me baby, its me. Please say something"

Baby? Who called you baby? The grim reaper wouldn't call you baby... who would call you baby when you were in the state that you were in. Who-

Chiaki.

Chiaki was there, in your room, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world, like you'd break if he squeezed too tight or spoke too loud. It didn't make sense. How'd he even get in? Had you been so intoxicated by your own delusions of death you hadn't noticed him?

You lifted your head ever so slightly, only to have it droop back down as soon as you got it up. Weak as you were, you still felt a pang of embarrassment course through your veins. "What are you... why are you.. huh?"

"Oh thank goodness" The man beside you sighed, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest and placing gentle kisses on your cheeks. "I was so worried, you weren't answering any of my calls and-and I thought I had done something wrong" Chiaki sniffled before continuing. "And then I get here and you're completely unresponsive! I thought you had... had.."

Had died.

"I wanted to"

There was silence for a second, and it was only then that you realised he was crying. Sobbing, even. Because of you, the great and cheerful Chiaki Morisawa was shedding actual tears. His tears weren't something you deserved, you didn't think you deserved much really, but he still gave them to you.

"No, don't ever say that, don't ever think like that! Is it something I did? I want to fix this, please let me help you" He pleaded with you, the broken sound of his voice making your heart shatter into million pieces. "I love you, I love you, I love you so so much (name)"

His hand travelled down to interlock with your own, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your palm. He wasn't only trying to calm you, but himself as well, you could tell by the way his body shook and his voice trembled. "I love you, can you not see that?"

Several tears rolled down your cheeks, dripping down your face and staining into the bed sheets. "I know"

"Then why?"

"Because I... I don't deserve you! I'm a mess, look at me! I'm a loser, I can't even pretend to be happy. You don't want that, you want someone who's not fucked up in the head"

You weren't looking at Chiaki, but you didn't need to to see the frown on his face. Not an angry one, but one that said he was hurt, disappointed in himself. His voice all but confirmed it. "I'm not a child, I know what I want, and I want you. Forever and ever"

"You don't mean that-"

"Yes I do!" His voice suddenly raised an occtive, the hand that was previously holding yours moving to cup your chin, forcing your head upwards to look him in the eye. God, those eyes. Those damn eyes.

"I'm going to be with you through this, through the worst of it, through the best of it. I know what its like to feel like the whole world is out for you, and I'm not leaving you alone. Not unless you throw me out the damn window" He leaned in, pressing a small but meaningful kiss to your lips. "I'm supposed to be a hero, so let me be one for you. Please"

And for the first time in a long while, you felt something warm fill that hole in your heart.

[liveforjeongin]

Hii I'm new to your blog an Di love your fics!! Can I ease request lee seungmin with ler Chan and Minho with 3 & 27 from prompt list 2? Hope you have a great day!!💖💖💖

Your Laughs Are Worth It

I literally love lee!Seungmin, he's too cute

Thanks for the request anon<3

-tickle fic, if you don't like that you can keep scrolling

requested by: anon

warnings: Seungmin all weak at the end, intense tickling(? not so described though so Idk, Minnie being cute<3

taglist: @itzsana-kiddingmenow @channieissocute125

Prompt 3, list #2: “Keep your arms up!”

Prompt 27, list #2: “There’s no escape!”

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Chan woke up in the morning, as any other day. The day before he had wrecked Hyunjin with Minho, and that, surprisingly, made him wake up in a ler mood almost unbearable.

He texted Minho, telling him about this, and it turned out he was in the same situation.

"Seungminnie just woke up, he looks extremely cute... I wanna tickle him so bad, he's always got the cutest giggles" the younger of the two texted

"What if we do?" was the answer he got.

Some hours later, Chan arrived the maknaes+Lino dorm, ready to fulfill the craving of tickling one of their maknaes.

Seungmin, on the other hand, was totally unaware of his hyungs' plan. So, when they invited him to watch a movie, he accepted gladly.

Surprisingly for all three of them, a tickle scene showed up in the movie, sending chills all over their bodies, Seungmin even blushed a little, now realizing what's with the behavior of his hyungs. Oh no... He was their today victim.

The puppy-like boy tried to get out of there, thinking on how to do it without them noticing he noticed. Not able to think about any good idea, decided to just stand up and leave, but the nervousness was so noticeable in him, and the two oldests were not planning on give up on their plan, that's why Lino quickly tackled the younger, making them both fall in the ground.

"NO! No! No no no! Hyungs plehehease!" Was all that Seungmin could say when the cat lover sat on his hips and Channie sat on the floor too, after pausing the movie.

"There's no scape, Seungminnie~!" the oldest teased, starting to scribble on Minnie's ribs, causing him to immediately put his arms at his sides, protecting his ribs from the attack.

"Nohoho! Hyungs plehehease! We can talk about thihihis!"

"Hmmm... I don't think we can, Seungminnie. Now come on, raise your arms" Lino said, emphasizing with a poke on the youngest's belly.

Seungmin's eyes widened, what did he just say?! There was no way he would raise his arms for them to tickle him.

"The more you try to resist, the more we'll tickle you, so keep your arms up! It's all up to you~"

Thinking about it better... Yeah, it was safer to do it.

Minnie slowly raised his arms, putting them down every few seconds while giggling, the anticipation was getting to him "Plehehehehease hyungs! You don't have to do thihihis! Don't plehehease"

Of course Minho didn't listen to Seungmin's pleading and started squeezing his sides, kinda gently at first to get the younger used to the sensation, which the Minnie certainly appreciated.

"Hyuhuhuhuhung! Nohohohoho! Stop that plehehehehehehease!

"I don't think that's happening, Seungminnie~" Chan said and joined in in the tickling, going for the younger's armpits, rougher than how Minho was doing on his sides, making Seungmin go crazy at the too similar but different sensations on his body.

We can say Minho fixed that when he started squeezing, digging and scribbling way rougher on Seungmin's sides.

Seungmin was having a hard time trying to keep his arms up. lt was being almost imposible considering Chan's tickles on his armpits and his urge of protecting his sides from Minho's tickles as well.

He tried hard...

But failed.

Min put his arms down and squirmed away the best he could considering Minho was sat on his hips.

The odests both let out a dramatic gasp at the younger's actions, making Seungmin giggle a little at their exagerated reaction.

"You did not." Minho dramatized, taking his own hand to his chest, wanting to get some more giggles out of Minnie.

"Hyuhuhuhung! You're being too dramatic..."

"Oh, is he?~" The oldest of the three spoke up, lifting the youngest's arms over his head and sitting on his hands.

"N-No Hyung! Channie hyung! Please! Please nohoho!" Seungmin begged in anticipation, knowing the real torture was about to start.

He was fucked up.

Almost immediately, Minho went wild on Seungmin's belly, probably his worst spot.

"NOHOHOHO! MINHO HYUNG, HYUNG PLEHEHEHEASE! NO, NO! I'M SOHOHOHORRY! I'M SORRY, PLEHEHEHEHEEASE!"

"You practically asked for it… You were being just so cute... Your laugh is worth all this you know?~" Chan teased and started tickling the younger's ribs mercilessly.

Seungmin's laughter went hysterical. How are they so good at tickling?

Needless to say Chan and Minho were absolutely merciless with their dongsaeng, and Seungmin was going crazy.

"HYUHUHUHUHUNGS! PLEASE DON'T! PLEASE, PLEASE STOP NOHOHOHOHOW! PLEHEHEHEHEEASE! I CAN'T TAHAHAKE IT!" Seungmin begged through his laughter.

Minchan didn't listen to him and just kept going for a little while more.

After some minutes, Seungmin looked visibly weak, tired and overwhelmed, so his hyungs thought that was enough, they didn't want to kill him, so they stopped. Minho got off of the puppy-like boy and Chan set his arms free.

Seungmin immediately curled up in a ball in the floor.

A giggly, blushy and weak ball.

His hyungs couldn't help but look down tenderly at him, he was so cute.

"How was it?" Channie asked, starting to stroke the younger's hair.

"Intense. Never do it again" Seungmin replied out of breathe, getting a chuckle out from both of his hyungs.

"We can't promise anything if you're so cute you know" Minho teased

The younger sighed "I'll have to change that then..."

Minho and Chan both chuckled and picked Seungmin up to place him back on the couch and this time actually see the movie.

But of course Seungmin fell asleep almost immediately, you didn't learn anything last time?

Later in the night, almost at midnight, Seungmin couldn't stop thinking about this situation over and over again, even blushing slightly remembering it.

Then he searched up on Google.

'How to never stop being cute'

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Okay I wrote the last half of this on CLASS

Literally I had a sudden inspiration on fucking Physics and decided that writing was more important than... Well, really nothing considering I had already finished the workshop-

So I could pay all my attention to my writing😻

Ofc I had to digitalize the whole thing cuz I can't use my phone on school so I wrote in a NOTEBOOK

No one's ever touching that notebook from now on-

I also fixed a couple details (I'm kinda perfectionist writing-) but mostly is the same so y'all can expect more fics written in school since this one came out actually good-

Anyway-

I hope y'all liked it ;3 I'll try to be more active since this year is no-homework and everything will be in class. So yeah, expect more fics from now on😻

[anthonysalazar]

rating the (canon) buffyverse ships based on how much i like them

angel + buffy (7/10) i think it's okay for what it is, but buffy clearly outgrows him in the end but omg that i will always remember you episode on ats is so tragic and made me appreciate them sm more

spike + buffy (9/10) OMG THE SCENE OF THEM IN SEASON 7 WHERE SPIKE SAYS HE LOVES HER NOT BECAUSE OF WHAT SHE DOES OR BECAUSE HE'S GETTING ANYTHING IN RETURN BUT BECAUSE OF WHO SHE IS AND WHAT SHE IS IS SO. i love them together omg.

riley + buffy (6/10) i don't like hate them? riley had sm potential as a character and as a boyfriend but good lord did they handle him badly. they could've made him a cute golden retriever boyfriend for buffy but instead they made him toxic masculinity TM. season 4 riley is enjoyable though, just once you get to season 5 he becomes annoying and pretty unbearable

willow + oz (8/10) SO CUTE!! i will always be mad that they wrote willow as a complete lesbian, as i know sexuality is fluid but her romance with both oz and tara read more as a bisexual woman rather than a lesbian. i wish oz had stayed on the show longer though as he was amazing, not just as willow's love interest. i love you forever oz

willow + tara (9/10)

i love them so so so so much my fav sapphic lovers. tara is my favorite buffyverse character besides buffy herself and seeing her character growth that came from willow's open support and friendship that blossomed into a romance was one of the greatest romance arcs on television i love them sm. willow's magic addiction is weird though in season 6 and weighs on their relationship a bit but in the end i love them

willow + kennedy (1/10) ew. i don't have to explain myself just ew.

willow + xander (1/10) no. no no no no no.

xander + cordelia (3/10) ew no, i will forever hate xander harris and pairing my girl cordy with him will forever make me mad AND THEN HE CHEATS ON HER???? vile.

xander + anya (6/10) i actually don't hate them sometimes, but it infuriated how often he undermined her when she was one of the most knowledgeable characters in the buffyverse on history with magic and etc. their little arc during once more with feeling made me like them a lot more though

spike + anya (5/10) i don't take it seriously as a ship but it was so funny when it did happen and i love it for that

cordelia + angel (8/10) SUCH A BETTER PAIRING FOR THESE CHARACTERS THEY SHOULD'VE BEEN THE ENDGAME!

giles + jenny (9/10) SO CUTE. THE TRAGEDY OMG I SOBBED SO HARD WHEN JENNY DIED I MISS YOU SM. the pining, the difference in technology vs physical information, etc. their dynamic was adorable and i'll always miss her sm

buffy + robin (4/10) very short lived and fizzled out so fast that it barely counts, i like robin alot though and wish he was given more to do as i found him interesting

drusilla + spike (7/10) i kinda love their devotion to each other even if it was extremely unhealthy, aesthetically also a very sexy ship and i love them for that

angel + darla (8/10) darla is one of the most underrated buffyverse characters and her arc in ats made her so so so fascinating that i am partially giving it such a high score because of my fascination with darla

fred + gunn (9/10) so cute!! i love them so much and it was so wholesome

fred + wesley (6/10) good amount of pining i guess? i don't have much to say about it but it was enjoyable enough

doyle + cordelia (7/10) so cute also!! i wish doyle had stayed around longer as i loved him lots

wesley + cordelia (3/10) ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew. SHE WAS IN HIGH SCHOOL DUDE IDC SO GROSS

wesley + lilah (7/10) in terms of functionality, not the best, BUT in terms of my fascination, very very high up omg

harmony + spike (4/10) also kinda a crack ship but it was funny while it lasted, harm deserved better though

(i think i covered them all but if there's more i'll update this)