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iydiamartinx · 2 months ago

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THE ART OF RESTRAINT III

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

divider by: @cafekitsune & @iydiamartinx word count: 1.9k synopsis: After finally giving Bruce Wayne a chance and putting aside your petty rivalry, he fails to show up for your date. But your night takes an unexpected twist when you meet the Dark Knight himself. a/n: I have no idea where I'm going with this series but here's part 3!

Saturday night came dressed in blues and silver.

Gotham's skyline glittered outside the rooftop windows of one of the city’s most exclusive restaurants. Inside, low jazz filtered through the space, candles flickered in crystal holders, and silverware gleamed beneath golden chandeliers. You sat at a private table on the terrace, draped in midnight blue silk, your heels glinting like daggers beneath you as you checked the time again.

8:02 PM.

You told yourself not to be annoyed. Bruce Wayne was nothing if not dramatic. And busy. It wasn’t the first time he’d been fashionably late—but it was the first time it felt pointed.

8:17 PM.

You sipped the cocktail the sommelier had poured to tide you over. It was warm now. You hadn’t touched it in ten minutes.

8:31 PM.

You stood, thanked the host with a tight smile, and grabbed your clutch. If Bruce Wayne wanted to stand you up, so be it. You were no one’s second option, not even Gotham’s favourite billionaire. The city didn’t stop turning because a man failed to show up.

You left restaurant.

The air outside bit cold against your skin as you walked down the quieter edge of Gotham’s theatre district, where lights still spilled from marquees and late diners drifted out of restaurants in laughter and heels.

You didn’t notice the shadows trailing you at first. The soft click of your heels along the pavement masked the quieter, footsteps behind you. But then came a sound—sharp, out of rhythm. A footfall that didn’t belong to you. Your pulse ticked higher.

As you turned the corner, a man stepped out from behind a parked car, blocking your path. He looked rough—clothes slightly disheveled, expression tight with focus. But it wasn’t the kind of frazzled desperate of thief who grabs a purse and bolts. No, this man looked like he had a plan or at least knew exactly who you were.

You slowed instinctively, but it was already too late. Two more figures emerged from either side of the street, boxing you in. Their movements were coordinated. This wasn’t random.

It was a planned grab.

And you were the target.

You didn’t panic. You were no stranger to enemies. Not with your name. Not with your reach. You were one of Gotham’s most powerful women, and with that came threats.

“Don’t scream,” the one on your left ordered, already reaching for you.

Screw that.

You pivoted sharply, your heel slicing down toward his instep. He grunted, stumbling, but before you could follow through, the second man caught your wrist mid-swing and twisted hard. Pain shot up your arm, but you gritted your teeth, already preparing to drop your weight, to slam your head back into his nose, to fight like hell.

“Not here,” the third man muttered. “Get her in the car. Quick.”

You were bracing for a counterstrike when the air shifted.

A blur of movement cut across your peripheral vision. Then the first man was ripped off his feet and slammed into the hood of a parked car with a sickening crunch of metal. The others barely had time to react. One turned, but a gloved fist met his jaw mid-pivot, sending him sprawling across the pavement. The third reached for something at his belt—maybe a knife, maybe something worse—but his legs were swept out from under him in a single, fluid motion. He hit the ground hard, wind knocked from his lungs.

The dark figure turned toward you—cowl, cape, all black armour and control—but it wasn’t over yet. Your attackers were already recovering, staggering back up like wolves circling for a second try.

Batman glanced behind him, assessing. His arm shot out and a cable wrapped tight around your waist.

You gasped as your feet left the pavement, your body yanked upward into the air with a jolt—lifted high, fast, weightless—

The street fell away beneath you.

Your breath caught in your throat as the city lights blurred around you, and then you were landing hard against someone’s chest—arms solid around you. You were yanked upward with a jolt—fast, disorienting, weightless—your coat whipping around your legs as the city lights stretched below.

He landed on the rooftop with effortless grace.

Batman.

He set you down carefully on the rooftop ledge, just enough to steady you before turning to look over the edge of the building, eyes narrowing.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, voice gravel-deep.

Then he was gone—leaping from the rooftop like a shadow.

You stood frozen, adrenaline still crashing through your veins, the wind tugging at your hair, your coat, your composure. Below, faint sounds echoed through the alley—fists striking bodies, a grunt of pain, the sharp crunch of something metallic giving way under pressure.

You didn’t want to look. You didn’t need to see the bloody aftermath of your would-be kidnappers.

Instead, your gaze drifted—and then landed.

Of course.

Across from the rooftop, illuminated in the glow of the city’s artificial starlight, was a billboard. That billboard. The infamous calendar shot, blown up and backlit like a masterpiece. Framed in warm gold tones, bodies tangled in expensive white sheets. Bruce’s hand at your waist. Your mouth parted, a breath away from his.

Your jaw tightened.

You scoffed under your breath and turned away.

Figures. You wouldn’t have even been in this mess if it weren’t for that stupid photoshoot. If it weren’t for him.

You should’ve known better to get tangled up with Gotham’s billionaire playboy, you’d stupidly thought there was something genuine between the two of you.

It took you a second to realize everything had fallen silent.

“You alright?” a deep voice rasped behind you.

You spun on your heel, breath catching.

You hadn’t even heard him land.

The Bat.

He stood there, half in shadow, watching you closely beneath that cowl.

You nodded once, still breathless. “Believe it or not, this isn’t my first attempted kidnapping. Gotham’s underworld has always been full of opportunists.”

“It wasn’t opportunism,” he said, voice clipped. “It was planned.”

You arched a perfectly shaped brow. “Are you saying you knew they were targeting me?”

He didn’t answer right away—but he didn’t need to. His silence said enough.

This was your first time meeting him in person. You’d heard of his reputation, of course—who in Gotham hadn’t? You’d admired his tactics from afar, even defended them in interviews. But now, face to face, there was something strange about him. You felt as if you knew him.

He gave a slow, stiff nod. “I got word of the attempt earlier tonight.”

You let out a hum, stepping a little closer. “Mm, I see. How convenient for that…”

Your gaze drifted over his shoulder once more, drawn—unwillingly—to the glowing billboard. That cursed calendar shot. You frowned.

Then your eyes returned to his.

His jaw was sharp. Clean. And so goddamn familiar.

Your gaze dropped.

Even his mouth looked—

You tilted your head slowly, narrowing your eyes.

Without thinking, you boldly took a step forward. Your finger trailed lightly across the ridges of his armoured chest, slow and teasing.

He tensed.

You smiled.

“Well,” you murmured, voice low and velvety. “I suppose I should thank you properly.”

Before he could move—before he could stop you—you rose to your toes and pressed your lips to his.

He was stiff at first and for and for a moment, you thought you’d been wrong.

But then—almost like he couldn’t help himself—his lips softened against yours. He kissed you back.

And just like that, you knew.

You pulled back a breath’s distance, your mouth still hovering near his. You could feel the warmth of his exhale ghosting over your skin.

“I suppose this might be as good a reason as any…” you whispered, eyes locked on his, “…to stand me up on our date.”

Batman didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

But his jaw clenched beneath the cowl.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said finally, voice even. Too even.

You stared at him.

Then laughed—cold and sharp. Not amused.

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Bruce.”

He flinched—just slightly, but it was there. Enough to confirm everything.

You took a step back, folding your arms across your chest. “I kissed you for half a second, and knew. I know your lips. I’ve stared into your annoying eyes enough to know you share the same colour as bruce Wayne and…” You gesture to the billboard. “You have the same jaw.” You shook your head, anger and adrenaline still crackling just beneath your skin. “I began putting it together the second you opened your mouth. The voice. The jaw. The way you stand. It’s all you. So spare me the act.”

He looked away then, gaze dropping to the ledge for a brief moment before returning to yours.

“I didn’t want it to be like this.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Yeah? What did you want, Bruce? Because I sat there in that damn restaurant for thirty minutes while you were out running around in a bat costume. Tell me—was I just another fling? A distraction?” Your voice cracked slightly. “Would you have even told me about this side of you if things got serious?”

Finally, he exhaled through his nose, the fight draining slightly from his shoulders. His voice came quieter this time, stripped of armor. “I didn’t stand you up. I was on my way. I got the alert when I was already en route to the restaurant.”

You blinked, startled by the honesty. The timeline lined up. He had meant to come.

And he’d chosen to protect you instead.

That should have made it easier. It didn’t.

Your eyes narrowed, voice low and sharp. “You didn’t answer my question. What is this between us?”

His jaw tensed, and he didn’t answer.

The silence said more than words ever could.

You let out a bitter laugh and shook your head, turning to leave. “That’s what I thought.”

You didn’t get far.

His hand caught your wrist.

You barely had time to gasp before he tugged you back into him, his body solid and warm and far too close. Then his mouth was on yours.

The kiss came fast and fierce, all heat and desperation. You melted into it—and fought it in the same breath. Your lips parted beneath his, matching every push with a pull, every clash with hunger. His other arm wrapped tightly around your waist, dragging you flush against him, like he couldn’t bear even an inch of space.

You made a sound—half gasp, half moan—as his mouth slid against yours with purpose. His grip tightened, grounding you, anchoring you to the moment. The kiss was rough. Messy. Filled with raw aching hunger and need.

You broke away first, breath coming in sharp gasps, your hands fisted against the hard plates of his chest armour.

His forehead rested against yours. Both of you still trembling with it.

“That—” you managed, voice raw, “—was not an apology.”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” he rasped, lips still hovering dangerously close to yours. “I want you, Y/N. Since the first time you stood up to me in that boardroom. You’re not some fling to me.”

Your chest rose, then fell. Your heart thundered behind your ribs.

You stared at him. At the armour, the cowl, his secret identity— This was the real Bruce Wayne and you weren’t running away, this time it was you who leaned in, your lips finding his again, kissing him just as hard as he kissed you.

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Tag List: @eepyfaerie, @whiteghostlyclouds

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #batman #batman x reader #batman x you #batman x y/n #Bruce is a model #dc comics #batman comics #dc batman

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comatosebunny09 · 4 months ago

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serve & protect [ prologue ] | sylus

— summary: you’ve stood dutifully by his side for years. seen him at his worst, not once letting that side of him deter you. can you blame him for craving more than your loyalty? — cw: royalty au, king sylus, femme reader, knight/bodyguard reader, mutual pining, brief mention of injury, marking, tension, jealousy, kind of a slow burn, will get steamier — notes: a reimagining of something i wrote a few years ago. heavily inspired by final fantasy xv & the beast within (2024) movie. tysm for reading! — now playing: waltz no.2 - cihat aşkın

You would feel bad for badgering him if he wasn’t prone to disappearing like this.

Prone to shirking off his duties like an entire kingdom didn’t rely on his guidance.

You sigh for the umpteenth time amid the night-blooming jasmines. Fingers tighten around the strapped leather grip of your sword, fastened to your hip. Your feet move on autopilot, carrying you through the garden on a path you’re all too familiar with, the grass shining with dew and crunching beneath your feet.

Your shift just began after a grueling week of training. Yet, you’ve already been tasked by his royal advisor with locating your charge before even shrugging into your coat. You’ve become something of a glorified babysitter these days, practically telling your liege when to eat.

If not for his advisor threatening to lop your head off—he could very well try—you would leave the king be. He hasn’t found much reprieve these days, what with neighboring countries pushing for peace treaties, reformation efforts to rebuild the outlying cities, and distant kingdoms shoving their daughters at him for marriage, amongst a slew of other issues.

It isn’t uncommon for your charge to slip away when the weight of the world is too much to shoulder. For him to retire to his private garden to catch his breath. He’ll never admit it aloud, but shouldering an entire kingdom on his own deepens the violet bags hanging beneath his eyes. The sleepless nights. The impending anxiety stewing in his gut.

Only you know of the secret passageways that lead to his most favored spots in the garden, where his servants get lost trying to navigate the network of rose bushes arranged like a labyrinth to keep them out.

It’s often your responsibility to fetch him since you work more intimately with him than anyone else. You know His Majesty’s habits like they were mapped on the back of your hand. You wouldn’t have it any other way; it’s nice to be the only person allowed into these private quadrants of his life.

A shock of white stains your peripheral, peacefully nestled between swaying hydrangeas.

You near him, noting that he’s propped up on an ironwood bench. His head is lowered and crooked to one side, arms folded over a broad chest, lips slightly parted. A book rests open and forgotten on his thigh, legs crossed. You tamp down a smile when you realize he’s fast asleep.

“Your Majesty,” you beckon with a hidden fondness as your steps slow to a stop before him.

He doesn’t stir. Of course, you don’t expect him to. When sleep claims him, it’s hard to free him from its ivy-like crawl.

You kneel dutifully, bowing your head, your sword scrawling a thick line in the dirt. You caution his name again, the sound of your voice competing with that of the breeze threading through the leaves.

Still nothing. Just the steady rhythm of his breaths and distant morning birds singing their symphony around you.

With a sigh, you incline your head to look up. And what a mistake that proves to be, traitorous butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

He’s a beautiful contradiction amid the soft stir of pastel flowers. A dark cutout of regality, slumbering like a dragon guarding its treasure.

His hair is reminiscent of a thick blanket of snow, piling itself amongst the treetops. He wears summer skin in the midst of spring. Stretched taut over a pretty Roman nose, angular features, full lips. He’s ethereal, limned in the sun’s amber glow, a sight that could bring the end of days or sink ships to the bottom of the sea. Thick, furled lashes dance with dreams beneath furrowed brows. A gruff sound escapes his mouth as he lightly stirs before falling still again.

Even in sleep, he maintains the intensity with which he’s known to rule.

A quaint smile touches your lips. You quell an impulse to soothe the divot between his brows with your thumb. To smooth out the hard press of his lips together. A well-timed gust of wind kicks in, rustling the velvet-soft hair framing his face.

Your fingers twitch with an impulse to touch. To tuck those unruly locks behind his ear. You instead curl them into a loose fist on the ground, quietly chiding yourself for allowing such thoughts to trickle in.

He is your charge—your king. Affectionate gestures like that are forbidden. A conflict of interest, no matter how harmless they may seem.

Besides, you’re unworthy of touching him. There’s dirt caked beneath your nails and an ever-present film of grime adorning your cheeks. He should have someone of equal stature smiling at his side. A pretty, glittering doll in flowery dresses, well-versed in the tongue of nobility. In the art of being poised and prim.

You’re a mere servant. A shield to be used at his disposal, your hands battle-worn and skin sun-kissed. You threw away all hope for love when you took an oath, binding your life to his and pledging your fealty to him.

He handpicked you to serve as his personal bodyguard, a decision you still grapple with several years later. Many seasoned knights served in the royal guard longer than you’ve held a sword. You would never do anything to jeopardize his trust, to betray his kindness.

The affection that unfurls like lotus petals in your chest for him is deep-rooted. However, it results from serving under him for so long and nothing more.

At least…

That’s what you tell yourself whenever his gaze lingers a little too long, pilfering the air from your lungs.

Or when his dexterous fingers brush over your wrist under the guise of reaching for something in front of you.

When he presses a warm and possessive hand at the small of your back whenever you tour the citadel’s grounds with him, or he requests your input on something at his desk.

When he flashes a rare quirk of lips that’s boyish and dimpled and disarming when he thinks no one else is the wiser.

You clear your throat, remembering yourself. Your voice is more assertive this time, dispelling the nebulous haze of your musings.

“Your Majesty, please. You have to get up.” The urge to stroke his cheek returns. You squeeze your thigh to curb it.

As if the Gods grant you mercy, that does the trick.

His lashes flutter, and his voice is thick and raspy, rolling like thunder over the horizon in his chest. You watch him blink away the bleariness, the scarlet wash of his irises causing your heart to pull.

Your king studies you as if making out the colors and texture of your face. You try not to shiver under his scrutiny, instead looking away as warmth inhabits your face. You’ve always found his eyes to be one of his most devastating features. They could easily glean through the mist of your mind, your guise, reading you like the yellowed pages of a book, even without tapping into the power residing in his right eye.

Heat permeates through the thickness of your uniform when, after setting his book aside, he suddenly pitches himself forward, elbows digging into the pockets of his knees. He rests his chin atop his folded together fingers, and you don’t need to fully look at him to see the smirk crooking his lips. The scent of unfettered energy and stripped sandalwood rolls off his skin, curling around your senses, threatening to root your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

The air between you is rife with tension. So thick, you can cleave through it with your blade. Your king watches you amusedly, and you do everything within your power to resist the bewitching pull of his gaze. The comfort and strength he exudes.

When he speaks, you nearly jump fifty feet out of your skin. His voice is as devastating as his eyes, puddling in your stomach, turning your brain to smog.

“I knew you were there all along. That’s why I didn’t bother opening my eyes. I was merely resting them.”

You scoff despite the anxiety scorching your innards. Closing your eyes, you retort under your breath, though loud enough for him to hear, “Sure, Majesty. You were resting your eyes while snoring with drool running down your chin.”

Your charge releases an indignant sound from the back of his throat, reeling back to touch his face, mortified. Your shoulders shake with your quiet laughter, and you hide the round tug of your lips behind your fist.

“Funny,” he says, and he gives you a look. One he’s used to silence an entire court of hecklers, its sharpness boding danger.

You clear your throat, donning that straight-faced mask you’ve grown so accustomed to wearing. You’re friends—childhood companions—yet you know when to shift from candid to serious.

Recalling why you were initially sent to fetch him, you stand to full height, brushing the dust off your hands on your thighs before snapping to attention. Your king raises a brow as if sensing something on your mind.

“At ease,” he orders, his voice devoid of its usual sternness as he leans back against the bench, a long arm draped along the bench’s headrest.

You get a good look at the veins peering through the cuffed sleeve of his button-up, spilling down his forearm to puddle at the back of his hand. You swallow against the barbs forming in your throat, your mouth growing dry.

“Speak freely.”

You nod, your hands clasped together at the small of your back. “You have a brunch date with the Queen of Universum today, sir.”

He blinks as if this information is news to him before recollection forms between his brows. His Majesty scowls, drumming his fingers on the bench’s rim impatiently. “Of course. Another noble here to throw their daughter at my feet.”

Your shoulders slightly drop at the dejection in his tone. You wish people weren’t so insistent that he take a wife. His father ruled just fine without one following the death of his mother. Still, having been around His Majesty so long, you understand why it’s imperative he marry soon.

Your shoulder throbs dully, serving as your reminder.

You try to ignore how the thought of some pretty noble wrapped around his arm makes you bristle, green-eyed feelings stewing in your belly. It would never be you—never could be you. You’re content with being his handler, watching him mutter obscenities over paperwork from your position at his door.

“How does that make you feel?” His Majesty suddenly asks, a teasing edge to his voice.

You blink, caught off guard. “M-Me?”

His chuckle is rich and endearing, and you unconsciously step back when he stands, swaddling you in his warmth and imposing aura. Stuffing a hand into his pocket, he pokes your nose, and you go cross-eyed looking at his slender finger.

“Yes, you. How does it make you feel, knowing that so many women would kill to take my name?”

He’s trying to get a rise out of you. Trying to weasel something out of you you’ve tucked in the deepest regions of your mind. You don’t humor him; instead, you give him a haughty look, your chin defiantly jutting forward.

“I think anyone willing to marry you is clinically insane.”

He laughs at your brazenness, your teasing, full-bodied and soothing. Dimples crater his cheeks, and the softness washing over his eyes causes a smile to twitch your lips. Without warning, idle fingers scorch your skin through the fabric of your jacket, easing down your arm, past the crook of your elbow, further still…

You’re breathless as His Majesty coaxes a hand from behind your back, and you watch with slightly parted lips and through the wispy sweep of your lashes as he draws it to his mouth. His eyes drill into the hulls of your soul whilst his molten lips brush your knuckles. He kisses them with such tenderness, such reverence, as if you’re an idol forged from glass, meant to be preserved in a museum.

The sound of your pulse pounding like a war drum blots out every bit of noise around. Your throat thickens, tongue bolted to the roof of your mouth.

“Good morning, by the way,” he drawls as if ensnaring you in a secret, his warm breath ghosting your skin, limber fingers scorching your hand to the bone.

You snatch away quicker than you mean to. Smooth your palm down your thigh before pinching yourself, studying the blades of grass licking at your boots. You wish you hadn’t caught sight of the fleeting pain in his expression. Wish you hadn’t been the cause of it.

“W-We should get going, sir,” you divert, trying to hide the shakiness of your voice.

He pushes out a weighted breath, stuffing the hand once curled around yours into his opposing pocket. “Lead on, then, dear friend.”

“Right.” With a curt nod, you turn on your heel towards the patchwork of greenery you emerged from.

He follows wordlessly, closely, a towering presence at your back, footfalls weighted in the grass, swallowing up the sound of your smaller ones. Static charges between you, imbued with something potent. You practically feel his eyes boring holes into the space between your shoulder blades.

You try to no avail to quell your thundering heart. To ignore how your knuckles throb where his lips imprinted themselves on the rough stretch of skin.

You wince, inwardly warring with yourself, praying that His Majesty keeps his hands to himself long enough to get through his meal with the queen.

You could only dream he would behave.

His Majesty is as infuriating as he is handsome.

masterlist | next >>

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #sylus qin #lads sylus #sylus #l&ds sylus #king!sylus #royalty au #serve & protect series

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beloveds-embrace · 6 months ago

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(In which you are a witch living in the woods, and yet the crown’s knights, rather than bringing you to be executed, have taken to protecting you in exchange for your services. Inspired by @nightunite, so all credits to them! (I forgor to add this at first im so sorry </3))

The forest had always been a place of mystery, its ancient trees and thick undergrowth concealing stories older than anyone alive. Deep within its heart, where sunlight filtered in golden beams through the canopy, stood your cottage. Ivy curled up its stone walls, and a garden thrived in the clearing. Wind chimes, crafted from bones and stones, tinkled softly in the breeze, their melodies laced with protective enchantments.

You were a witch, but not the kind whispered about with fear and suspicion. The knights of the realm knew you well- not as a threat but as a keeper of secrets, a healer, and a source of quiet, unassuming power- a companion to turn to when things got rough. You gave them charms and potions, warded them against misfortune, and offered refuge when the weight of their duties grew too heavy. In return, they brought you herbs, rare ingredients, and protection from the crown.

And now, that very same forest seemed to hold its breath as Captain Price approached your cottage, his figure blending seamlessly with the shadows of the trees. You felt the subtle hum of your wards shifting, recognizing the familiar presence and allowing him to pass. By the time his knuckles rapped softly on the door, you were already reaching for the latch with an eager smile.

“Evening, Captain,” you greeted, as warm as the crackling hearth, and stepped aside to let him in. “Come in before the chill settles.”

He nodded in thanks, ducking under the low frame of your door. “Evening, love,” he murmured, setting a small bundle wrapped in cloth on your table. “Brought you some chamomile and wild mint. Picked it near the south clearing on patrol and thought you’d probably have better uses for them than me.”

“Always so thoughtful,” you unwrapped the herbs and inhales their fresh, earthy scent, while John simply watching, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “These are perfect! Thank you, John, truly.”

Your fingers moved with practiced ease as you began sorting the herbs, placing them into jars and tying some into small bundles to dry. The rhythm of your movements seemed to ease the tension in Price’s shoulders as he sank heavily into one of the wooden chairs by the hearth, his eyes on you and only you.

“Tea?” you offered, even though you were already reaching for your collection of loose leaves. You bustled about, waving a hand with a glittery, starry shimer left in the wake of your movements; teapot and teacups toddled around in formation, going to their stations.

“Aye, tea sounds nice. Thank you, love.” He said, removing his helmet and setting it on the table.

You chose a blend of lavender, chamomile, and a hint of rosehip, brewing the mixture in the pot that had seen countless evenings like this. As you poured the steaming liquid into a cup, you murmured a soft incantation under your breath- just a touch of magic to soothe his weary spirit and exhausted body. A soft ting! came as the spell took hold, and for a split second, wispy hands curled around the cup before disappearing.

“Here,” you hummed, handing him the cup. “For peace of mind.”

Price sipped the tea, his gaze fixed on the fire crackling in your hearth that waved at him. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that had developed over years of quiet visits and late nights spent together.

“Long day, John?” you asked gently, breaking the stillness. Your brows were furrowed, leaving creases in the skin of your forehead.

He nodded, hand curling around the cup, and sighed. “Long patrols, longer nights. The crown’s getting twitchy, and it’s falling on us to keep the peace.”

Your face softened. “And yet you still find time to bring me herbs. You’re too good to me, John.”

He glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve done more for us than you realize. The men sleep easier knowing you’re out here, keeping watch in your own way.”

You looked away, focusing on the charm you’d been crafting earlier in the day. Made of braided black thread and adorned with tiny iron beads, it hummed faintly with the protective magic you’d woven into it.

“I made this for you,” you said, holding it out. “It’s for endurance- to keep you strong during the long days ahead.”

Price extended his arm, letting you tie the charm around his wrist. “Thank you, love.” He said, his voice low and sincere. His eyes lingered on yours, a quiet warmth in their depths.

When he stood to leave, you followed him to the door, pausing as he adjusted his armor. As easy as breathing, he tilted his head down as you stepped closer, pressing a kiss to his temple. The bristles of his beard brushed your cheek, and he stilled, letting the moment stretch.

“Take care, John.” You whispered, your hand lingering on his arm.

He nodded, his expression unreadable as he placed his hat back on his head. “I’ll make sure no one stumbles too close,” he said, tone firm- a promise he’s repeated many times, and never once broken. “This place stays yours, and no one will ever know.”

As he disappeared into the trees, the wards around your home seemed to settle, reassured by the promise of the man who had always been your quiet protector. You returned inside, the faint scent of chamomile lingering in the air, a reminder of the steady presence that kept your world safe.

It was not just him, of course, and you eagerly awaited the visit from the other knights who have kept your secret.

Masterlist.

#noona.writes #cod x reader #cod x you #cod #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 x you #tf 141 #cod imagines #john price x reader #john price x you #john price drabble #john price imagines

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thedivinetarot · 7 months ago

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Closer to you than your breathe

Channeled message from them

☆ How to chose your pile?

Take a deep breath, clear your mind. Focus your intentions on receiving the message from this reading. And close your eyes, ask the question in your head " what is the message I'm meant to receive from them?" And open your eyes. The pic youa re drown to the most isnyour pile.

☆ Who is this reading from?

You can apply this reading on any person but I did it for your future spouse or future partner. Also, there will be non-explicit part and explicit part so if you are under 18 do not continue to the explicit part.

☆ Note:

I started doing paid readings so if you are interested here's my Masterlist which is currently open. Feel free to DM if you want a paid reading.

Lots of love

Arya❤

Pile 1 - Letter one

My Dearest Love

I’ve waited so long to find you, and now that you’re here, my world feels balanced and whole. You are the Queen of my heart—grounded, nurturing, and endlessly generous. With you, love is not a fleeting feeling but a steady exchange of care and understanding. I cherish the way you give so freely, yet remain true to yourself. I know we’ve both had moments of doubt, times when the weight of the world felt too heavy, or when we questioned if we’d ever find this connection. But I want you to know that you are my clarity, my choice—just as I hope I am yours. There’s no confusion in my heart when it comes to you. I’ve left behind illusions and embraced the simple truth: we are meant to be. Our love feels like destiny—two cups pouring into each other, endlessly full. With you, I see a home, a foundation built on joy and celebration, not just with each other but with the life we’ll create together. I dream of the family gatherings, the warmth of shared memories, and the way your presence feels like home no matter where we are. But love isn’t always light and easy, and I know there will be burdens to share and moments when we’ll need to lean on each other. I promise to carry those loads with you, to walk beside you, step by steady step, as we build a life we can be proud of. I’ll be your Knight, slow but steady, working tirelessly to give us the stability we both deserve. Sometimes, I feel the echoes of the past—familiar memories that remind me of what love can be. You feel like a wish come true, like someone I’ve known before, a soul I’ve loved in another time. I see so much potential in us, as if fate herself worked her magic to bring us together. You inspire me to believe in the impossible, to dream of all we can achieve together. With you, I am not just the person I am, but the person I aspire to become. You are my muse, my strength, my love. I can’t wait to grow with you, to nurture our love like the strong and enduring tree it’s meant to be. You are my moon, my light in the darkness, my guiding star. Together, we’ll create a love that’s as deep as the roots of the earth and as limitless as the sky.

Forever yours,

Your person

MDNI +18

My Beloved

From the moment we met, there was no question in my mind that you were the one. I feel the pull of your energy, your warmth, and the way you touch me—not just physically, but deep within my soul. You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of, and more than I ever expected. With you, love is not just an exchange of words or glances; it’s a delicate dance, an endless giving and receiving. You, my Queen, have a way of grounding me, of making me feel like I am both powerful and tender, all at once. In your arms, I find comfort and the freedom to be myself—completely and unapologetically. I crave the way your body fits against mine, how it feels to be lost in the rhythm of us, in that space where we both melt into one. There were times I wondered if I would ever find this kind of love, the kind that fills every part of me and leaves me wanting more. But the moment I laid eyes on you, every doubt faded away. You are no longer just a possibility, you are my reality. My heart has chosen you, and now, I only have eyes for you. The moments we share together are more than just memories; they are the foundation of a passion that burns bright, that fuels our connection. When I look at you, I see everything I’ve ever wanted. I want to explore every inch of you, learn the taste of your skin, the sound of your breath when you’re lost in pleasure, the way you moan my name in the quiet moments between us. We have something rare and deep, something that feels like it’s been written in the stars. When you touch me, when our lips meet, it’s as if time itself stands still. I feel you in every part of me—inside, outside, heart, and soul. I know the road ahead won’t always be smooth, but I am ready to carry you through it, to take on every burden, every challenge with you by my side. I’ll never let go of this love, of this connection we have. I’ll cherish you, adore you, and make you feel like the most desired person in the world. You are my magic, my everything. I want to give you a life of passion, of intimacy, of everything you’ve ever craved. And with you, I’ll always find my way back home, to your arms, where I am truly alive.

Forever yours,

Your Future Lover

Pile 2 - Letter 2

( With the cards I picked, it seems like this pile’s spouse has experienced some tough moments and inner struggles. There's a sense of uncertainty, heartbreak, and perhaps confusion, but also a desire for healing and balance. Their future spouse may want to reassure them of a love that helps them find peace, security, and emotional fulfillment despite these challenges).

My Dearest

I know you’ve been through much, and my heart aches when I think of the burdens you’ve carried alone. The weight of your past and the struggles you’ve faced are not unnoticed, and I see the wounds that have shaped you. You have endured, and that strength, though hidden beneath your pain, shines through in ways that I admire deeply. There’s a deep sadness in me, knowing that there have been times when you felt abandoned or lost. But I want you to know—none of that will remain when we are together. I will be the one who holds you, who sees through the fog and the fear that clouds your heart. In me, you will find a refuge, a sanctuary where you can lay down your burdens and let go of the sorrow that lingers. The path we walk may not always be easy, but I will guide you, patiently, through the darkest of times. I’ll be the steady presence, the one who lifts you when the weight of the world feels unbearable. Together, we will heal from what has hurt us. Together, we will find balance in a world that often feels chaotic. You may have moments of doubt, of confusion, or of wondering if things will ever truly change, but I promise you this: I am here. I see you for who you truly are, not the past, not the fears, but the person capable of immense love and joy. Your wounds do not define you; they are simply part of the journey that will bring us closer, that will help us understand each other on a deeper level. Though I know there may be times when you feel disconnected from the world around you, when loneliness creeps in, remember that I am always with you, even in the silence. We will create a space where trust is restored and where the pain of the past becomes a distant memory, fading with every passing day we share. I’ll be there to calm your restless heart and bring you peace. You are my treasure, the person who completes my life in ways I never knew possible. I will work every day to show you how much I cherish you, how much I desire to build something beautiful with you, despite all that has come before. No matter how long it takes, we will create a life of love, healing, and serenity. I see you. I understand you. And most of all, I am here for you—every part of you, no matter how scarred, no matter how uncertain. Together, we will shine again.

Forever yours,

Your person

MDNI +18

My Dearest

I know you’ve carried so much pain, and my heart aches at the thought of the loneliness you’ve felt. I feel it, the weight of your struggles, the scars that mark you, but let me tell you this: I will be the one to remove those burdens, to kiss away every trace of sorrow from your skin. In my arms, you will find a release like no other—where you can surrender, where the heaviness of the world can fade into nothing. You’ve felt abandoned, lost at times, unsure of whether someone could truly see the real you. But I see you. Every inch of you. I see the raw beauty in your vulnerability, the fire beneath your uncertainty. When you let me in, I’ll show you what it means to be wanted, to be needed, in ways that go beyond the physical. I’ll make you feel desired—not just for your body, but for the depth of your soul. I crave you—your softness, your strength, the way you carry both pain and passion. When we come together, it’s not just about the pleasure. It’s about releasing everything, every thought, every fear. In our connection, I’ll show you what it feels like to be lost in the heat of the moment, where the world outside ceases to exist, and all that matters is the way we fit together. There may be moments when you feel distant, when your heart is clouded with doubt or sadness, but I will always pull you back to me. I’ll take your hand, guide you through those dark moments, and show you how to let go completely. In those moments, I’ll taste your lips, feel the heat of your body against mine, and remind you just how much you are wanted, how much you are adored. Every part of you calls to me, from the way you look at me with those eyes filled with longing, to the way your skin reacts to my touch. You will learn what it means to be worshiped, to be loved in a way that burns, that leaves you breathless, that makes you forget everything except the heat between us. The journey we’ll take together won’t always be easy, but when I’m with you, I’ll make every touch, every kiss, every whisper, something you will never forget. You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of—more than I ever imagined—and I want to take you, every inch of you, body and soul. We will create a world where our connection is all-consuming, where every moment together feels like the first time. I will be here, ready to explore every part of you—your desires, your fantasies, your deepest cravings. Together, we will create a love that goes beyond words, a passion that will never fade.

Forever yours

Your Lover

Pile 3 - Letter 3

This pile seems to have a mix of longing, introspection, and fiery new beginnings. Your future spouse or person likely sees you as someone who has faced emotional challenges but still carries hope and passion for love. The Lenormand cards (ring, birds, and dog) suggest commitment, deep conversations, and loyalty.

My Beloved

I see you—your strength, your resilience, and the fire that burns within you despite the times you’ve been hurt. I know you’ve faced moments where the world seemed to take more than it gave, leaving you wondering if true, lasting love is even possible. But I want you to know, I am here, and with me, you’ll never feel that imbalance again. I will cherish you as you deserve, giving you my all with every moment we share. Your heart, so beautiful and tender, has been bruised before, but it hasn’t broken. That courage, that determination to keep hoping, to keep believing, is what draws me to you. I admire the strength you carry even when you feel uncertain or vulnerable. You don’t need to carry the weight alone anymore—I will be the one who stands beside you, steady and unwavering. When we meet, you’ll feel it—a spark, a passion, an undeniable pull that we can’t resist. You awaken something in me that no one else can. Every touch, every shared glance, will feel like it was meant to be, like we were created to fit perfectly together. I’ll make sure that every moment with me reminds you of how deeply loved and desired you are. Our connection will be unlike anything you’ve known—loyal, passionate, and endlessly fulfilling. We’ll share conversations that stretch into the night, where words flow as naturally as our hearts beat for one another. I’ll be your closest companion, your unwavering support, and the one who always chooses you, no matter what life brings. I promise to build a life with you that is rich in love and overflowing with joy. Together, we’ll create a bond so unshakable that no doubt or fear can touch it. With every kiss, every whispered word, I’ll remind you that you are my everything—the one I’ve waited for, the one I’ll never let go. So, my love, hold on just a little longer. The path may not always be easy, but it’s leading us to each other. When we finally unite, all the longing and waiting will be worth it. You are my wish come true, and I am yours.

Forever yours,

Your person

MDNI +18

My Beloved

There's a fire in you that I can't resist, a strength and passion that calls to me in ways I never known. I see the way life has tested you, how it left its mark on your tender heart, but it hasn’t dimmed your light. Instead, it made you more irresistible. You’ve carried so much alone, but when we are together, I will take that weight from you. I’ll show you what it means to truly let go and surrender to pleasure, to love, to me. When I look at you, I won't be able to hold myself back. I’ll crave the heat of your body, the way your skin responds to my touch, the way you sigh my name when I make you mine. There's an ache in me that only you can satisfy, a desire to explore every inch of you, to uncover all the hidden parts of your soul and your body. Our connection will be unbreakable, raw, and consuming. I’ll take my time with you, savoring every moment, every kiss, every shiver that runs down your spine when I touch you in ways no one else ever will. When I'm with you, the world will disappear, and there will be nothing but us, the rhythm of our bodies moving together, the sound of your moans filling the air, and the way you'll beg for more. You awaken something primal in me, a hunger that only you can sate. I will show you just how much I want you, how deeply I desire not just your heart but your body, your soul, everything that makes you who you are. I'll make you feel cherished and wanted, not just in words but in every action, every passionate moment we share. I’ll kiss away every tear, every doubt, and replace them with sensations that make you forget the past. When I touch you, it will be with purpose to remind you that you are mine, that no one else will ever know you the way I do. And when I take you in my arms, I'll make sure you never feel alone again. You are my deepest desire, my most sinful craving, and my sweetest dream. I'll be your lover, your partner, your everything. Together, we'll create a passion so consuming that it will leave us both breathless, a connection so deep that it will feel like nothing else has ever mattered before us. I am waiting for you, longing for the day I can finally claim you in every way. Until then, know that you are the one I burn for, the one I'll never stop wanting.

Forever yours

Your lover

Pile 4 - Letter 4

My Dearest

I’ve thought so many times about the day we will finally meet, and what I will say when I look into your eyes for the first time. I don’t know how it will feel, but I know it will be electric, like a spark igniting something powerful between us. I want you to know that when I look at you, I will see everything—the beauty of your soul, the depth of your heart, the strength you've hidden away. I see how much you’ve carried on your own, how many burdens you’ve shouldered in silence, and it will make me want to hold you even more. There have been many times when life has felt uncertain, when it seemed like we couldn’t go on. But there’s something about us, something I can’t quite explain, that makes me believe we were always meant to find one another. You and I, we will balance each other out, filling in the gaps that have existed in our lives. The weight of the world won’t feel so heavy when I’m beside you, and I will make sure you never feel alone again. I will cherish every moment with you. I want to take my time with you, to savor every conversation, every touch, every glance. I want to be the one who makes you feel safe and secure, the one who stands by you when life gets tough. I see how much you’ve given to others, how much you’ve sacrificed, and I want to give you everything you deserve in return. I want to show you that love can be steady, that trust can be built, and that when you give yourself to someone, it’s not in vain. There may be moments when we question if we’re ready for what we’re about to experience, but I know deep down that this connection between us is something extraordinary. It won’t always be easy, but we will navigate the storms together, side by side, knowing that what we have is real. When I’m with you, I will make you feel seen, heard, and adored. I crave the day when we can finally be together, when I can hold you in my arms and tell you that you are the one I’ve been waiting for. Until then, know that you are in my heart, that you are the person I am working toward, the one I will never let go of.

Forever yours

Your lover

MDNI +18

My Dearest

From the very first time I lay eyes on you, I will know that you are mine. There will be no hesitation, no doubts. You will awaken a desire in me that I can’t control, a fire that I’ve never known before. When we come together, it will be explosive—the kind of passion that burns everything in its path. I want to take you in my arms and make you feel wanted, desired, cherished in ways no one else ever has. I will trace the lines of your body with my fingertips, savoring every curve, every inch of you. When I kiss you, I won’t just kiss your lips—I’ll kiss your soul. And I’ll make sure that you feel every kiss deep within your bones, as if it’s your very lifeblood. There will be times when you’ll need me to show you how much I want you. I’ll make it clear with every touch, every breath, every word. You’ll feel my hunger for you, and you’ll know that it’s not just physical—it’s spiritual, it’s emotional. You will be the center of my world, the one I can’t stop thinking about. When we’re together, I’ll let go of all the restraints I’ve built around myself. I’ll let go of everything holding me back, and I’ll give myself completely to you. I’ll make you forget everything but the heat between us, the way our bodies move together in perfect harmony. I’ll make you feel things you’ve never felt before, and you’ll beg for more. But it won’t just be about pleasure. I want to take care of you, hold you, protect you in ways you never knew you needed. I’ll show you what it means to truly be loved, to be craved, to be desired—not just for your body but for everything that makes you who you are. I’ll explore your body and your mind, learning everything there is to know about you. And when I touch you, you’ll know it’s not just about the moment—it’s about creating something lasting, something deep and unbreakable. With every touch, every kiss, I’ll make you feel mine in ways no one else can. I am waiting for you. I long for the day we can finally be together, when I can hold you close and claim you completely. Until then, know that you are in my thoughts, in my dreams, and you always will be.

Forever yours

Your future person

Post date: 21st of Dec- 2024 / Sat

* Feedback is appreciated

#free divination #free tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot community #divination #divination readings #metaphysical #tarot pac #tarotblr #pac future spouse #future spouse tarot #paid readings

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a-hound-will-die-for-you · 2 months ago

Text

The Dance

Masterlist

Summary: The dances are a moment of freedom and delight for you, and pure torment for Sandor Clegane. Watching from afar, he must endure as the knights compete for having you. His patience wears thin, and soon enough, you’ll have to calm him. Just a little longer, and you’ll be together. He just need to be discreet. Word count: 2200 Notes: highborn lady f!reader x Sandor Clegane; preestablished relationship; secret relationship; discrection; jealousy; possessiveness; selft restraint; Sandor taming. English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes I might make. Constructive feedback is welcomed, I am here to share and learn <3

Some strands of your hair have escaped the braids that crown your head, yet you pay them no mind. You keep turning and turning, the strict steps taught by your dancing master long forgotten.

Denied the thrill of pursuits like hunting or riding, rare are the moments when a lady of high birth is granted such freedom. So when the dance begins after the feast, you seize it.

You move with grace, accepting the hands of the lords who guide you to the rhythm of harp and drum. Your heavy gown sways with every movement, and its long sleeves lift like wings when you reach from one partner to the next.

Many seek your favor that night.

Lords clad in silk and velvet, landowners and heirs. All of them smile as they take your hand in theirs, longing for more than a dance before the night is done. But only one man in that hall will have you when the music fades and the last candle dies.

A man who stands apart, half-shadowed in the background behind King Joffrey and his lioness of a mother.

Though you have not looked at him all evening, you feel his eyes upon you. On your face. Your shoulders. Your hips. A gaze like a threat that clings to your skin. Someone has brought him a wineskin, and he drinks from it now and then, but never breaks his stare.

You feel as flattered as you are concerned. The more tightly wound he is, the more passion he’ll unleash when he comes to you. But there are many eyes at court, and surely this lack of discretion will bring trouble.

Patience, you try to send him without looking, all the while you smile and twirl in the arms of another lord. This one is drunk, and bold enough to place a hand at your waist. So the man who watches from the shadows clenches the hilt of his sword. A cage of fingers meant to imprison his wrath.

As the music comes to a pause, you are breathless, sweating, and with your cheeks flushed from the exertion. You excuse yourself politely from your dancing partner, then leave the Great Hall with quiet steps.

There is a balcony not far, so you walk down the corridor and turn once, then again, through the winding halls until you reach the first step of the serpentine stair. You’ve walked that path many times before, yet you can’t help the slight shiver in the darkness of the unlit torches. Without thinking much of it, you begin to climb the first steps, but you don’t get far. A hand of iron grips your forearm, shoving you mercilessly into a nearby alcove.

“Caught you,” he rasps, and before your back hits the stone wall, his free hand slips behind you, breaking the impact. Then his massive shape looms over yours, blocking what little light filters through the arched window.

In the dark, you cannot see him, but you recognize that scent.

Leather, metal, fire… and a trace of wine.

"Sandor..."

Your voice is barely more than a sigh, though you're smiling. So sweetly that you feel his grip on your forearm loosen. You use the moment to slip free with playful ease, but you scarcely manage a step back. His gloved fist lands against the stone beside your head, blocking your path.

"Not going anywhere," he slurs, then his hand finds the small of your back and pulls you in.

He buries that terrible, burned face in the crook of your neck. You shudder when his lips ghost over your collarbone, yet your hands travel to his shoulders and tangle playfully in his hair.

“They'll see us,” you exhale softly, though it's a hollow concern. His back is nearly three times larger than yours, and completely shields your trapped body.

"Bugger that, come here," his nose traces the line of your neck, lips threatening to press a kiss to your tingling skin, "I miss you..."

The hand on your back curls like a predator's claw into the fabric of your dress, and his thick thigh wedges between your legs. Then he presses upwards. You clutch desperately at his shoulders, losing your balance for a heartbeat as you feel your body rise along the stone wall. The tips of your toes barely touch the floor, but his grip is firm, and the scarred plane of his cheek against yours grounds you.

The warmth of his body pours through the openings in his armour and you embrace him, letting yourself be carried away by the overwhelming need that burns in him too. He responds with a low, pleased sound that strikes you straight to the core. But soon you snap back to reality.

Planting your hands on his chestplate, you push him away so that you can look him in the face. He lets out a soft grunt at that, displeased at leaving the comfort of your neck.

"Shouldn’t you be guarding the king?" you ask, meeting his eyes as he stares at your lips.

"Told them I had to piss," he leans in for your neck again, but you don’t let him.

"How charming of you…"

"Bugger those pompous fools," he mutters, then lowers his head once more, the weight of his chestplate pressing into your hands until you can’t hold him back any longer.

"Sandor…" you laugh softly, "are you drunk?"

"Mayhaps a little..."

His thigh presses up again and he lifts you higher to grant himself easier access to your neck. His mouth finds your skin, and the fist braced against the wall moves to the nape of your neck, keeping you in place just the way he likes. Then you feel his lips part, and his teeth brush against your skin. Softly, but with possessive intent.

"And jealous," you interrupt before he can bite and leave a mark.

He pauses, lazily, and pulls back just enough to look at you.

"I’m not…" he starts, but your eyes lock onto his. It never takes him long to give up when you look at him like that. His shoulders slump forward in defeat and his chest lets out all the air as he looks away.

"They’re undressing you with their eyes," he opens and waves his gloved hand as if the gesture could emphasise his words.

"Well," your hands cup his rough cheeks, and you guide his brooding face back to yours. "If you mind your manners and are patient, you'll be doing it with your hands."

The hopeful glint in his dark eyes makes your pulse race.

"When?"

"Soon." You manage to keep your voice steady. “Tonight”.

His posture softens. His thigh lowers slowly, setting you back down onto the floor, but his hand on your back remains firm, and the other still cradles your nape.

“I can't suffer another cursed minute in that room, watching those buggering blaggards feast their eyes on you.” He sighs deeply, seeking refuge again in the crook of your neck. As he bends, the hilt of the longsword strapped to his back catches the moonlight. “I swear if one more of them lays a hand on your waist, he’ll be dead before he pisses his breeches.”

You exhale and caress his tangled locks with tenderness. The gods have gifted you the most impatient and stubborn man in the seven kingdoms. But by the seven hells you love him with all your being.

“I said be patient,” you whisper against the scarred skin of his misshapen ear. “Don't be reckless”.

The blackened, battered armor hides his body, yet you can swear you see him tremble. As he stares down at you, you see a fondness that makes your heart ache.

“Then give me a taste of what's waiting,” he bargains, and holds your chin up between his gloved thumb and forefinger.

You know well what he’s asking for, but you meet his gaze with innocent, doe-like eyes, as though the meaning escapes you.

“A kiss...” he sighs out, lowering himself just enough to make it easier for your mouths to come closer.

His fingers graze along your jawline, prompting you to seal your lips with his, yet he doesn't move any further. At that angle, he could easily dip down and steal the kiss for himself, but you know that’s not what he wants. What he wants is for you to give it. He wants you to rise on your toes, grab hold of his gorget, and claim his lips in a fierce, heated kiss.

So he remains completely still, and you enjoy watching his eyes drift agonizingly from yours to your lips, and back to your eyes again, his breath growing ever so slightly uneven. Just a moment more and he will break, you think.

"Please..." his voice then rasps, a hoarse prayer barely breathed against your lips.

There it is.

Already begging, and you don’t even have him between your sheets yet.

Moved by both his need and your own aching want, you give in. But instead of seizing him by the gorget as he’d expected, your fingers tug at his cheeks and guide his face down to yours. Your lips are sweet and warm on his, and the suffering man can't stifle the moan that rises from deep in his throat. But the kiss ends as swiftly as it began, leaving him growling in protest, head tilting back toward yours and seeking you again like a starving hound.

“Not enough. I want all of you,” he mutters, reaching for you with his arms, but you’ve left him so stunned that his movements are sluggish, and fails to capture your body as you twist and slip away like an eel.

“Later…” you smile, already a few steps apart from him.

His face is twisted in a grimace that makes his features uneven. On the unscarred side, it might almost be a smile. On the burned side, a deep scowl pulls at the ruined flesh. Either way, he makes no move to chase you, yet the rigid set of his legs tells you he is holding himself back.

"And Sandor," you add before turning back toward the Great Hall, "for the love of the Seven, mind your staring and keep your wits. The queen sees more than she lets on. If she learns of this, she'll have your head on a spike."

“A gentler torment than the one you're inflicting on me now,” he says amused, and now you have no doubt he's smiling. In his own way, but smiling all the same. You swallow your retort and cast him a reproachful look, and he makes a visible effort to please you. "Aye, I'll be discreet."

Back in the Great Hall, the dances have ended.

You take your place at the long table, surrounded by lords and heirs.

The evening unfolds just as you expected - drenched in endless courses of delicacies, while two knights vie to outdo each other in flattery.

At the far end, the king’s Hound obeys your command in silence.

You do not feel his eyes upon you, heavy with rage and lust. You do not feel that wild tension or the constant fear that he might do something foolish. But now and then, you still feel his gaze, though much softer. Like a gentle breeze that lifts the flutter of a bird’s wings against your back. A sensation you welcome and linger in, for it soothes the yearning within you to have him soon.

From the royal table, Cersei Lannister watches the scene with feline eyes.

She knows men well, and understands what drives them and makes them burn. She has known for some time that her former sworn shield harbors a fierce lust for you.

She’s seen it many times, standing stoically behind her son, while desire seems to consume him beneath that mask of restraint. But she also knows that half the court regards you in the same way, so the matter hasn't truly concerned her... until now.

What she sees now is something different.

The Hound’s eyes struggle to stay off you, but sometimes weakness wins and forces him to look. And what she sees in them when he does is something far more dangerous than mere desire.

She sees vulnerability. She sees softness, care, and a longing as desperate as it is deep.

But there is something more.

Something worse.

Something that could tip the balance and endanger the unshakable loyalty he has shown her son until now.

Those dark, mournful eyes, lined by a life carved in cruelty and misery, brim with a tenderness no fortress could hope to contain.

What the Queen Mother sees in Sandor Clegane’s eyes is pure devotion.

It is love.

...............

Thanks for reading! <3

What do you think? Did anyone sigh with the ending? A comment would give me life, and encourage me to write more :)

#jintaka stuff #sandor clegane x you #sandor clegane fanfic #sandor clegane #sandor the hound clegane #sandor clegane x reader #sandor x reader #the hound fanfic #the hound x reader #x reader #sandor the hound x reader #the hound got

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lushleona · 7 months ago

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hiya! congrats on 1k! i’ve been in and around your blog for a while and thought it was time to send my first ask. May I get a book browsing? Mattheo Riddle with a cinderella moment and "Fuck you" "Love you too"

this is so cute! thank you for requesting 🤍🫂

1k celebration navigation

UNFORGETTABLE… book browsing

ミ★ MATTHEO RIDDLE

The Great Hall gleamed, a sea of enchantment under the soft glow of floating candles and glittering stars. You hated to admit it, but the Yule Ball looked almost perfect tonight. Almost.

Your dress was stunning—flowing fabric that caught the light like moonbeams, the soft clink of subtle jewelry as you moved—but it felt wasted. Your date, some Ravenclaw whose name you didn’t care to think about, had failed to show, leaving you stranded by the punch table, clutching a glass like it was your last hope for dignity.

Mattheo Riddle, of course, had noticed.

He always noticed, though whether it was to irritate or intrigue you depended entirely on his mood. Tonight, his dark gaze trailed you across the room, unreadable behind the mask of indifference he wore so well. But behind the mask, he was stunned at your beauty tonight. Well, you’d always been beautiful—he couldn’t deny that—but it was different tonight.

“Trouble in paradise?” his voice cut through the hum of music and chatter, low and smooth, as he sidled up to you. That mask of indifference—it was impenetrable, even if his heart was racing at the way your side profile looked in this light, with your hair all done up and pulled back over your bare shoulders.

You didn’t look at him. “Go away, Riddle.”

“That’s no way to speak to your knight in shining armor.”

You scoffed, finally turning to face him. It was weird—you could’ve sworn his eyes held a sparkle of warmth. “You’re the farthest thing from that.”

“And yet,” he smirked, leaning casually against the table, “here I am. Let me guess—your date’s a no-show, and now you’re thinking of leaving before anyone notices.”

Your jaw tightened, heat rising to your cheeks. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but you’d rather hex yourself than admit it. “What do you want?”

“To dance,” he said simply, like it wasn’t the most absurd thing in the world.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He straightened, offering a hand with the kind of confidence that bordered on infuriating. “Come on, princess. You can’t let that dress go to waste.”

You stared at his outstretched hand, skepticism warring with the ache in your chest. The last thing you wanted was to spend the night alone, but accepting help from Mattheo Riddle? That felt like surrender.

“I don’t need your pity, Mattheo,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

“Who said anything about pity?” His lips curled into a smirk. “Maybe I just want the best-dressed girl here to make me look good for a change.”

Your scoff was automatic, but a flicker of curiosity sparked in your chest. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet,” he quipped, stepping closer, “you haven’t walked away.”

You hated that he was right. Maybe it was the warmth in his eyes, just faint enough to convince yourself it wasn’t real. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d noticed you at all, standing there alone in the middle of a crowd. Whatever it was, it made your fingers twitch toward his hand before you could stop yourself.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” you said, letting him take your hand.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied smoothly, leading you toward the dance floor.

The music swelled as you reached the center of the room. Other couples turned and swayed in perfect rhythm, their laughter and whispered words mixing with the melody. You felt the weight of their eyes as Mattheo placed a hand on your waist, his touch firm but not unwelcome.

“You’re tense,” he murmured, guiding you into the first steps of the waltz.

“Maybe that’s because I’m dancing with someone I can’t stand,” you shot back, though your voice lacked the venom you intended.

“Harsh,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You wound me.”

“You’ll live.”

But as the music carried you both, something shifted. His movements were surprisingly graceful, his confidence steady without being overbearing. For a boy who usually thrived on chaos, Mattheo Riddle was unexpectedly good at this. And worse, you found yourself relaxing—letting him lead, letting the music fill the silence between you.

“You clean up well, you know,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now.

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

You couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” he echoed, his hand tightening slightly on your waist, “you’re still here.”

The night blurred into a strange kind of magic you hadn’t expected. Mattheo danced with a confidence that kept you steady, his hand firm against your back as he led you through each step. By the time the music ended, you weren’t sure whether to feel grateful or annoyed by how natural it had all seemed.

As he walked you back to your dorm, the castle was quiet, the distant echoes of the Yule Ball fading with every step. The tension between you was different now—softer, almost curious—but Mattheo, of course, couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“You know,” he drawled, breaking the silence, “you could’ve just asked me to the Ball in the first place. Would’ve saved you the trouble.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to glare at him. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged, his smirk infuriatingly intact. “I’m just saying, if I’d known you’d clean up like this, I might’ve asked you myself.”

The warmth in your chest vanished, replaced by the familiar sting of irritation. “You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, resuming your pace.

“Unbelievably charming,” he corrected, keeping stride with you. “Come on, admit it—I made your night.”

“You’re delusional,” you shot back, though your cheeks betrayed you with their lingering heat.

By the time you reached the entrance to your dorm, you were ready to leave him and his insufferable grin behind. Turning to face him, you folded your arms, fixing him with your best glare.

“Well, thanks for the dance,” you said flatly. “Now you can go back to being your usual, annoying self.”

He tilted his head, studying you with that maddeningly unreadable expression. “That’s the plan,” he said easily, but something flickered in his eyes—something that made your stomach flip.

“Good,” you replied, turning toward the door.

But as you reached for the handle, he spoke again, his tone laced with the perfect amount of cocky amusement.

“By the way, you should’ve let me kiss you on the dance floor. It would’ve made your night unforgettable.”

You froze, your hand gripping the doorknob as your head snapped back toward him. His smirk deepened at the look on your face, and you could practically feel your blood boiling.

“Fuck you,” you hissed, slamming the door shut before he could respond.

From the other side, his voice came, warm and unbothered, echoing softly through the stone.

“Love you too.”

You stared at the closed door, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried—and failed—not to think about the way he’d said it, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he meant it.

And, worst of all, you couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto your lips.

#slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x fem!reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle fluff #harry potter #slytherin #benjamin wadsworth #book browsing #leona-hawthorne’s 1k celebration #— ; 𝐥𝐞𝐨’𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 🎨 ྀི

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written-and-readen · 7 months ago

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The Odds Are Slim But Never Zero Part 2

Jing Yuan, Sunday, Gallagher x fem!reader (separate)

Part 1 (Dan Heng, Luka, Blade), Part 3 (Moze, Phainon, Sampo)

Summary: Someone walks in on you

Warnings: nsfw (18+), penetrative sex (Jing Yuan, Sunday), fingering (Jing Yuan, Gallagher), public sex (Gallagher, the bar is empty but still), getting caught

a/n: Sunday has been acquired. He’s so pretty. I have some other writing ideas for him but his character is hard for me so who knows.

Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan is irresistible. It’s so, so hard to say no to him, which is probably how you ended up here. His hands have slowly slipped off each of your garments one by one as rays of early morning sun flood into the bedroom.

“Beautiful as always.” His voice is still laced with the remnants of sleep as he roams your body.

“And you’re eager.” You gasp when his hand comes up around your breast, giving it a light squeeze. It’s not enough to distract you from his erection poking your thigh though. “Really eager.”

“I’d like to think of it as appreciating my dear wife as often as possible.” Your back arches when two fingers push into your pussy. Your whines become the only sound in the room as starts up a steady rhythm of pumping in and out of you. You don’t think to warn him when you’re close. He can always tell without you having to say a word. Few things evade the Divine Foresight’s notice after all.

“Jing Yuan!” You cry out. He responds by pressing kisses to your shoulder while you fall apart on his fingers.

“Will you allow me to take care of my little problem?” He says after you shift around to face him.

“I think ‘little’ is poor word choice.” You pull him into a kiss, mumbling against his lips as he moves on top of you. Jing Yuan chuckles, leaning into your kiss. He throws the sheets aside, fully exposing every inch of you to his golden eyes. He pulls his cock out, poking the tip at your entrance before looking you in the eye.

“Ready?” The careful consideration of his words somehow makes you fall in love with him all over again.

“As I’ll ever be,” You reply, breath stolen the moment you get out the last word by his length pushing into you. Your hands grip white hair as you lose yourself in the pleasure, feeling your husband litter kisses around your collarbone.

“General!” You’re snapped from your trance by the door being burst open by a Cloud Knight. Jing Yuan is swift to grab the sheets to block you from anyone’s view but his own.

“What is it?” You recognize his voice take on the decisive tone fit for a general.

“U-Uh, Lieutenant Yanqing wanted to let you know that he’s resolved the recent incident involving the missing cycranes. The culprit has been sent to the Realm Keeping Commission.” You commend him for keeping a mostly calm front aside from a few stutters here and there to give away his embarrassment.

“Thank you for the news.” Your husband doesn’t even have to verbally dismiss the knight before you hear his retreating footsteps and the door close.

“You need to tell the boy he can just write up a report in the future.” Your voice keens when Jing Yuan moves again, reminding you of his cock still buried inside you.

“He means well.” His tone softens to the one reserved only for you as his hands find a place on your hips once more. “Now where were we?” Jing Yuan is insatiable, but so hard to say no to.

Sunday

“Give me a minute,” Sunday says through gritted teeth. He’s currently bottomed out in your pussy trying not to cum right then and there. The way your walls perfectly hug his cock has him lost in you.

“Take your time.” You brush his bangs out of his eyes while giving him the sweetest look, and Sunday thinks he’s going to die. Then, there’s the way you suddenly tighten around him. It has his forehead falling into the crook of your neck.

You never imagined someone as composed as Sunday could be like this. Your hands run through his hair, and you try not to get poked by his halo as you wait for him to gather himself. The way he fills you up certainly has you wanting him to start moving, but his comfort comes first. You have to at least let him think he’s in control.

Your eyes are drawn by the door to your room sliding open. It’s Himeko and Welt, probably checking in on how the newest passenger is doing. Himeko’s eyes widen upon meeting yours, but she sends you a soft smile that makes your cheeks burn. You silently wave a hand to send them away, but Welt is already closing the door.

“What was that?” Sunday lifts his head at the sound of the door.

“Nothing!” You reach both hands up to cradle his face. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

Yeah, Sunday’s sure you’ll be the death of him.

Gallagher

It’s so hot as your lips move against Gallagher’s. Your body feels like it’s on fire, the heat frying your brain so you can barely process anything other than him. Rough hands sneak under your shirt and skirt, holding you right where he wants you.

The two of you were supposed to be closing up Dreamjolt Hostelry for the night after Siobhan left, but one kiss led to another which led to Gallagher hoisting you onto the counter, positioning himself between your legs as you made out. You gasped when one of his hands travelled to rub you through your panties.

“Here?” You murmured nervously, pulling away from him for a second.

“I can finish up here and then we’ll head back to Dreamflux Reef if you want.” That distance in comparison to the proximity of his fingers to your sex right now had you crashing your lips back against his.

“Feeling risky today?” He chuckled at your sudden boldness.

“Just make it quick.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Gallagher tugs your panties down your legs before pocketing them. He warms you up with one finger, then adds another for a minute before three fingers are fucking you mercilessly. You lay your forehead on his shoulder, your ability to sit up straight melting away as the heat from your core spreads through your whole body.

“You couldn’t keep it in your pants until you got out of here?” A new heat rises to your cheeks as both you and Gallagher turn to see Siobhan, catching you both red handed with a look of disbelief. “I’m never forgetting my phone here ever again. You guys owe me lunch after this. Make that lunch for the rest of the week.” She sighs, leaving before either of you can get a word out, but the shock certainly hasn’t left.

“We should leave,” you both agree in unison. Gallagher lifts you off the counter, licking up some of your juices from his fingers after slipping them out.

“Sweeter than a dream.” He smiles at your flushed face before grabbing a dish rag to get rid of any incriminating evidence. The two of you make quick work of closing the place down with Gallagher eventually locking the door. You wrap your arms around his own as you leave.

“Are you going to give me back my panties yet?”

“Why would I? That saves us one step when we get back home.”

#written by ray #fics by ray #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #hsr gallagher #gallagher smut #gallagher x reader #sunday x reader #hsr sunday #sunday smut #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan smut

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eternalguk · 6 months ago

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Our Quiet Christmas | jjk. (M)

You are my home, my home for all seasons.

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : After a whirlwind year of schedules, chaos, and never-ending to-do lists, Jungkook whisks you and your daughter away to a secluded cabin for a much-needed Christmas getaway. With snowflakes falling outside and the crackling fire keeping the cold at bay, it’s the perfect chance to slow down and soak in the love that makes your little family so special… But Jungkook has more than just cosy movie nights and snowman-building in mind—he’s set on expanding your family, and he’s not exactly subtle about it. Between his playful charm, heartfelt confessions, and stolen kisses by the fire, it’s hard to resist the idea of giving Areum the sibling Jungkook can’t stop dreaming about.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, dad!jungkook x mom!reader, marriage au, comfort au, pwp

↠ Word count : 9.3K

↠ Warnings : making out, explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), riding, missionary, impregnation!kink, dirty talking, begging, dom!jungkook, sub!reader (think that’s all)

↠ A/n : hi there ; merry Christmas Eve 🎄! I hope you’re all having a restful break and enjoying the holiday period 🫶🏻 I present you soft dad!Jungkook being absolutely smitten with his family. Snowy vibes, fireplace cuddles, Jungkook being charmingly relentless about baby number two, and you trying (and failing) to resist his puppy eyes. Feedback is always appreciated & happy reading 🦢!

↠ Song : Snowman by Sia

Winter had arrived. An icy serenade surrounds you yet the warmth of love is all you feel. An old Christmas movie plays in the background and the smell of home-baking permeates the air.

Comfort, peace and solace is all you feel right now.

“This years going to be different, I can feel it in my bones.”

“Guk, baby you say that every year.”

“No no, I’m sure about this one, you see I can feel it-

“In my bones.” You both say in sync, causing Jungkook to chuckle as he brings his hand to your jaw, moving your face towards him so he can kiss you.

His lips join yours in a soft, gentle manner.

Years have passed, but every time you and Jungkook kiss, you swear you feel the same butterflies that you felt when he kissed you for the first time after your third date outside the art gallery.

Magical. That’s how you’d describe kissing Jungkook.

His lips were warm, soft, and when they touched yours, there was no rush. Jungkook deepens the kiss ever so slightly, letting the pressure build with gentle insistence, the rhythm of the kiss calm but full of intention.

The two of you are lying on the couch, legs entangled under your daughter's blanket as you watch the fireplace emit sparks of warmth, bathing the wooden interior with golden hues.

“Eomma, appa!” A voice calls out, full of pride.

Areum.

4 years old and a bundle of joy. Your bundle of joy.

“Look, I fixed it!” Areum’s tiny and soft voice breaks the quiet. She jolts into the room, clutching the wooden reindeer ornament Jungkook had given her to paint earlier this morning. It had been her project all afternoon.

The reindeer was, to put it kindly, a riot of colour - blobs of red, green, and yellow mixing like a child’s dream of Christmas. One of its legs appeared a bit wobbly, but it stood proud, just like Areum did right now, her rosy cheeks flushed with pride.

Jungkook lets out a low whistle, sitting up slightly as the blanket slips down his chest. “Wow, princess, you really did that all by yourself, mhm?”

“Mm-hm!” Areum nodded vigorously, imitating her father. Her dark hair bounces as she hurries to place it on the small mantle above the fireplace.

You smile softly at your princess, watching Jungkook’s eyes glisten with adoration like a knight in shining armour. His role as a father suits him more than you could have ever imagined. The playful glint in his gaze softens into something so reverent every time Areum enters the room.

You know confidently that she is his whole world, as much as she is yours.

“Appa, is it good?” Areum’s wide eyes sought his approval.

“Good? Baby, it’s perfect, just like you,” Jungkook says warmly, reaching for her hand and pulling her into his lap. She lets out a giggle as he peppers her face with kisses, her tiny hands swatting at his cheeks playfully.

“Go easy on her, Guk,” you tease, leaning your head against the armrest of the couch as you tuck your legs under the blanket again.

Jungkook grins at you, Areum still squirming in his arms. “I’ll stop when she says ‘my appa is the best.’”

“My appa is the best!” she squeals, breaking into a fit of laughter and reaching to kiss her fathers cheek.

A Mini Jungkook indeed.

Satisfied, Jungkook sets her down gently, watching as she scurries off to grab another decoration. He leans back on the couch with a contented sigh, the blanket once again draped over the two of you.

“You know,” he begins, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, “this is exactly what I needed. Just us. No schedules, no phone calls, no distractions.” His thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone as his chocolate brown eyes hold yours, the firelight dancing in its depth.

“I know,” you softly murmur, running your fingers over the back of his hand. “This year has been so… relentless? It’s nice to just breathe and soak in the silence.”

You both sigh, snuggling into one another despite being as close as humanly possible.

“Except when Areum remembers she has parents,” you chuckle, shaking your head in laughter as you see her ornament.

Jungkook’s lips twitch into a small smile. “Speaking of Areum interrupting our silence…” He shifts even closer, his voice dropping to that low tone he uses when he wants to get under your skin. “I’ve been thinking about adding another little someone to, you know, interrupt our quiet moments. What do you think?”

Your eyes flicker to him, your breath hitching at his boldness. You contemplate playing aloof, but your husband’s abruptness stops you. “Are you serious?”

Jungkook nods, the grin on his face unmistakably cheeky now. “I mean, we’ve been talking about it for a while. And look at Areum - she’s so ready to be a big sister. Aren’t you, princess?” he called out to her.

Areum looked up from where she was arranging ornaments on the small tree by the window, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Hmm, Appa?”

“Are you ready to be a big sister, my angel?” Jungkook questions her tenderly.

“What’s that?” Areum queries, curiosity etched into every feature of her face. “How do we get one?”

You stifle a laugh, your cheeks warming. “Don’t confuse her, Guk.”

But Jungkook was undeterred, his hand sliding under your sweater to rest on your hip beneath the blanket. “Just think about it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple. “Another little one resting here with us next year. Maybe a boy this time… although I wouldn’t mind another girl if she’s as perfect as Areum.”

Your heart clenches at the thought. You could picture it so clearly—a tiny baby, smaller than a bag of sugar from the grocers, cradled in Jungkook’s strong arms, Areum’s careful hands reaching out to stroke a soft cheek and your hand clutching your heart at the scene. The cabin, filled with even more love than it already is.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” you say, turning to press a peck to his jaw.

“I’m just optimistic,” Jungkook counters, his dimples showing as he smiles down at you. “And we’d be so good at it, don’t you think?”

Before you could answer, Areum runs back over, throwing herself between the two of you with an exuberant laugh. “I found the star!”

The star.

Jungkook had promised Areum that when she finds his hidden star, he will help her put it on top of the already full tree. The things this man did to get a quiet moment with you…

“Eomma, can we put it on top of the tree now?”

“Of-”

“Of course, princess,” Jungkook interrupts, sweeping her up effortlessly and carrying her to the tree.

You laugh at the father daughter interaction. Maybe you did need another baby to keep you company.

You watch the two from the couch, your chest swelling with gratitude. The year had been chaotic to say the least, but this - this simple, intimate moment right here - was everything you’d ever yearned for.

Jungkook catches your eye as he lifts Areum high enough to place the star on the tree. He gives you a knowing wink, his silent promise clear: there was more love to come.

And maybe, just maybe, you were ready to embrace it.

After the tree was decorated to Areum’s satisfaction - every inch of its branches covered in her creative flair - Jungkook carried her upstairs to put her to bed.

You decided to stay downstairs, tidying up the remnants of her crafting supplies and rearranging a few of the more precariously placed ornaments. The cabin is even quieter now, save for the occasional creak of the wooden beams and the faint sound of Jungkook’s voice drifting from the upper floor.

He’s singing to her.

It’s something Jungkook has done since Areum was a baby, and the sound of his melodic voice humming a lullaby never fails to warm your heart.

You lean against the doorway, pausing to listen. His voice, smooth and honeyed, wraps around the melody like a cosy blanket.

You carry on clearing Areum’s toys away, wanting the place to be nice and tidy before Christmas Eve tomorrow.

When Jungkook finally comes downstairs, steps light and careful, his eyes meet yours. “Out like a light,” he whispers softly as though he’s scared to wake her, running a hand through his messy hair. “I barely made it through the second verse.”

“She always loves when you sing to her,” you pout, crossing the room to take his hand. “Just like me.”

Jungkook pulls you into his arms, your cheek pressing against his welcoming chest. “I think I’ve got some magic left tonight,” he whispers in a low voice, his lips brushing your hairline.

“Oh, do you now?” you taunt, tilting your head to look up at him. “What tricks you gonna show me?”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to capture your lips. But, before he could do so, something catches both of your attention. A faint tapping sound comes from the large bay window at the front of the cabin.

Curious, you turn towards it, only to see that snow has begun falling in earnest. The flakes were large and fluffy, blanketing the world outside in pristine white.

Jungkook steps out of your embrace, walking to the window to get a better view.

“Jagi, it’s a Christmas miracle.”

“I can’t believe it,” you run to the window, happiness like that of a child.

Jungkook stands there for a moment, his broad shoulders outlined by the golden glow of the fireplace, before turning to you with a mischievous grin. “It’s perfect. Let’s go.”

“What? Now?” you exclaim, your brows lifting in surprise. “You’re fucking crazy!”

“Why not?” he said, holding out his hand. “It’s just us, remember? No one’s here to tell us we can’t.” Jungkook pulls a funny face which you can’t help but laugh at.

You hesitate for a second, but the gleam in his eye is irresistible. Laughing, you grab your woolly coat and leather knee-high boots, following him outside into the magical winter night.

The air is crisp and sharp, biting at your cheeks and nose, but the snow truly made everything feel softer, quieter, as if the world had been wrapped in cotton wool and there was no way out. The two of you stand on the small porch, the snow crunching underfoot, watching as the forest rapidly around you transforms into a winter wonderland.

Jungkook turns to you, his eyes sparkling. “Dance with me, jagi.”

You laugh again, shivering as he grabs your hands. “There’s no music, you idiot!”

“Sure there is,” he replies swiftly, stepping closer. “Listen. The wind, the snow, the quiet. That’s all the music we need.”

Jungkook begins to sway with you, his hands warm as they enveloped yours. The two of you move slowly, his body sheltering you from the cold. Snowflakes are caught in his dark hair, his nose reddening from the chill, but he looks as handsome as ever, his smile lighting up the night.

“This is what I meant,” he hushly says, voice low and intimate. “Just us. No rush, no noise. Just you, me, our princess, and moments like this.”

You move forward to rest your head on his chest, letting the quiet envelop you both in a warm hug. Jungkook’s arms tighten around you, his chin coming to rest on your head.

“I think you might be right,” you whisper, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

“Right? About what, love?”

“This year being different. It already feels like it is.”

Jungkook pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes softening. “It’s different because we make it that way,” he reassures you, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “And we will keep making it better. Every year, every moment. Together.”

The snow continues to fall, and for a while, you simply stand there, swaying in the quietude, wrapped in each other’s arms. The world around you disappears, leaving only the two of you and the love that made every moment worth remembering.

Once the cold began to creep through your coats and boots, Jungkook insisted on pulling you back inside, laughing at the way your teeth chattered as you kicked off your snow-covered boots.

You now stand in the living area, shivering like a child in a cold cradle.

“I told you it was too cold,” you huff, trying to warm your hands with your breath.

“And I told you it was worth it,” he nonchalantly replies, tugging off his gloves and taking your icy hands in his. His larger palms envelop yours, the heat of his touch sending a shiver up your spine. “Better, baby?”

You nod, letting him guide you back to the couch.

Jungkook grabs the blanket you were sharing earlier, draping it over the two of you as you snuggle close, your body seeking the warmth radiating from him.

The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room. Jungkook reaches for the mug of hot chocolate he’d abandoned earlier, holding it to your lips for you to sip. The sweetness and warmth spread through your chest, and you sighed in contentment, leaning back into his embrace, inhaling his woody scent.

For a while, neither of you speak, simply basking in the serene silence and your comforting presence. Jungkook rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms circling your waist as you both gazed at the fire.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks quietly, breaking the silence.

“Of course, babe.”

Jungkook hesitates for a moment, his thumb absently tracing circles on your hip. “I meant what I said earlier, you know? About wanting another baby.”

You turn slightly to look at him, your brow lifting in curiosity. “Really?”

“Yes,” he says confidently, his eyes soft but steady. “Areum’s growing up so fast, and every time I see her smile or hear her laugh, I think… we made that. You and me. She’s this perfect little person, and I can’t help but think how amazing it would be to do it all over again.”

Your heart swells at his words, the sincerity in his voice making it impossible to brush off the idea. You’d talked about it in passing before, but the way he spoke now felt different.

Earnest. Hopeful. Loving.

“You make it sound so easy,” you chuckle, though your voice was softer than you intended.

Jungkook snickers, his breath warm against your neck. “I know it’s not. The sleepless nights, the mess, the chaos… but it’s worth it, isn’t it? Every bit of it. I mean, just look at what we’ve already got.”

Your gaze flicks to the staircase, where you could just imagine Areum fast asleep in her bed, her little chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm.

“You’re right,” you admit, turning back to him. “She’s the best thing we’ve ever done.”

Jungkook leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “And we can do it again,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin. “If you’re ready, of course.”

Your eyes meet his, searching them for any trace of doubt, but there is none. Only love and unwavering belief in the life you’d built together.

A soft smile tugs at your lips. “Maybe,” you say, your tone playful but your heart already leaning towards yes. “We’ll see.”

Jungkook’s grin widens, the dimple in his cheek making an appearance. “That’s not a no.”

Jungkook’s persistence was truly admirable.

“It’s not a yes either,” you counter, however, you can’t stop yourself from laughing as Jungkook leans in to kiss you, his hands sliding up your back.

“You’ll come around,” he mutters against your lips, voice low and teasing. “You always do.”

“Don’t get ahead yourself, mister,” you chuckle as you move to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

The fire crackles before you, its warmth matching the heat building between you.

Jungkook’s kisses deepen, his hands tighten their hold on you, and for a moment, the world fades again, leaving only the two of you in your little cocoon of love.

But then a soft cry breaks the moment, drifting down from upstairs.

“Eomma? Appa?”

You both freeze before pulling back with identical smiles, your foreheads pressed together.

“Think she had a dream,” Jungkook utters, his voice laced with affection.

“Your turn,” you whisper, nudging him gently.

Your husband groans in mock protest but stands fairly quickly, tossing the blanket aside. “Fine. But you owe me.”

“I think we’re even,” you tease, watching as he heads towards the stairs.

Jungkook pauses halfway up, turning to look back at you with a smile so warm it rivals the firelight. “We’ll pick up this conversation later.”

You laugh softly, pulling the blanket tighter around you as he disappears upstairs. The fire continues its steady crackle, and you lean back into the couch, your heart full as you listen to Jungkook’s soft voice comforting Areum.

It was in moments like this - simple, unassuming, and utterly filled with love - that you realised you’d already found everything you’d ever wanted. And maybe, just maybe, you were ready to grow it a little more.

The cabin is quiet again.

You hear Jungkook’s footsteps, soft, as he makes his way back down the stairs. Areum must have settled quite quickly.

You are still curled up on the couch, the firelight painting your skin with a warm glow as you scroll through TikTok.

Jungkook pauses at the end of the staircase, leaning on the banister for a moment, his eyes fixated on you.

“You’re staring,” you sing, your lips curving into a lazy smile.

“Can’t help it,” he replies, pushing off the banister and crossing the room to sit beside you. “I have the most beautiful wife in the world.”

“You always know what to say,” you taunt, resting your head against his shoulder as he pulls the blanket back over both of you.

His arm comes around you, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your arm. “What can I say? I’m a man in love.”

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, scrolling through your FYP as the fire crackles softly, a contrast to the snow that continues to fall outside.

Jungkook’s hand never stops moving, his touch soothing and intimate, as if he needed to keep that connection to you at all times.

“You know,” he interrupts the silence eventually, voice deep, “when I first thought about taking you and Areum out here, I wasn’t sure if I’d done the right thing. It’s so… quiet.”

“Mhm?” You urge him to continue.

“Another part of me felt bad for leaving our family, but…” Jungkook pauses, trying to find the right words.

“It was exactly what we needed,” you finish his sentence for him, softly, nuzzling into his side.

“Yeah,” he agrees, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t realise how much I needed it too. Being here with you, with her… it’s like everything else has immediately faded. All that stress, the busyness, it just doesn’t matter anymore.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his expression. “Guk, you have worked so so hard for us. For everything. You deserve this time just as much as we do.”

Jungkook knew in that moment that you were his comforting love. The fort that comes in advance of danger. His protection before the need for that even arises. For you, he was the softest thing in the universe. There was a solace in feeling the goodness of your soul. You always carried a gentle certainty that Jungkook was born to absorb and accept love.

People had always told you, you were lucky to have Jungkook. But Jungkook knew, he was luckier to have you.

He meets your gaze, his dark eyes filled with gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken but understood. “You make it all worth it,” he says in simple words.

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. His lips linger on yours, slow and tender, as if he were trying to pour everything he couldn’t say into that single moment.

When you pull back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your cheek. “I know I keep bringing it up, but… I really can’t stop thinking about another baby,” he whispers, his voice tinged with both hope and hesitation.

You laughed tenderly, your fingers brushing through his hair. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

“Only because I know how good we’d be at it,” he argues, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “And if I’m being honest, I’m kind of selfish. I want more moments like this. More little hands to hold, more giggles filling the house. And more time with you, building this life together.”

Your heart clench’s at his words, the integrity in his tone making it impossible to tease him this time.

“What if I said yes?” you ask quietly, your voice barely audible over the fire’s crackle. A newfound shyness came over you.

Jungkook’s breath hitches, his eyes widening slightly as he pulls back to look at you fully. “You mean it?”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “I’ve been thinking about it too. And you’re right… Areum deserves to have a little partner in crime. And I…” You trail off, your cheeks warming under his intense gaze. “I think I’d love to see you holding another baby of ours. To see our family grow.”

The smile that spread across Jungkook’s face was brighter than anything you’d seen all night. He let out a breathless laugh, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he whispers against your hair.

You cackle, your arms wrapping around his neck. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

Jungkook pulls back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “You’re incredible, you know that? I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you reply, swatting lightly at his chest. “If anything, I don’t deserve you.”

“We’ll just have to agree that we’re both pretty lucky,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you again.

This time, the kiss is deeper, filled with promises and excitement for the future you’d just agreed to build together. The fire burns low in the hearth, and outside, the snow continues to fall, blanketing the cabin in a hush that seemed to echo the love you shared.

When you finally pull apart, you settle back into his arms, the blanket cocooning you both.

“So… when should we start?” Jungkook asks, his voice light but laced with mischief.

You laugh, swatting at his chest again. “How about we enjoy the rest of this quiet night first?”

“Fair enough,” he says with a grin, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

As the fire’s glow dims and the snow piled high outside, you close your eyes, the steady rhythm of Jungkook’s heartbeat lulling you into a peaceful slumber. And though the night was quiet, your dreams were filled with the sound of tiny feet and laughter, and the warmth of a love that felt boundless.

It was now 1AM.

The two of you were awake again.

The cabin was silent save for the soft crackle of the flames. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in the same blanket that had been your haven all evening, Jungkook’s arm draped lazily across your shoulders.

His fingers trailed absent patterns along your arm, the touch light but deliberate, sending tiny shivers over your skin. You lean further into him, sighing in contentment as your head rests against his chest.

“I love this,” you say softly, the words barely audible over the quiet.

“This?” he questions, his voice low and warm.

“Us,” you clarify, tilting your head to look up at him. “This moment. It feels… perfect.”

Jungkook’s lips quirk into a small, almost boyish smile as he leans down to kiss your forehead. “It’s because we are perfect,” he teases, his voice teasing but laced with sincerity.

You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. “Confident?”

“Always,” he replies, his hand moving to brush a strand of hair from your face. His fingers linger against your cheek, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

The mood shifts subtly but unmistakably.

Jungkook’s hand slides down, his fingers grazing your jaw before settling at the nape of your neck. He leans in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that starts soft but quickly deepens, his other hand slipping around your waist to pull you inevitably closer.

The blanket falls slightly as you shift to become more comfortable in your husband’s embrace. Your hands find their way to Jungkook’s chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palms. He groans softly against your plush lips, his fingers tightening their hold as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss further.

Kissing Jungkook always felt so poetic. In the emotions of his kisses, you could understand a language so passionate, it transcended the works of the greatest poets combined.

When your husband finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breathing slightly uneven. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he admits, his voice husky and low.

“Thinking about what?” you ask, though the heat in his gaze is leaving very little room for doubt.

Jungkook grins, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “About how much I want you.” He kisses your forehead.

“About how much I love you.” He kisses the tip of your nose.

“And…” He pauses, his lips curving into a playful smirk. “About how nice it would be to give Areum a little sibling.” Jungkook leans forward to capture your lips again, but you swiftly pull him back by his luscious brown tresses.

Your eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by his boldness. “Jungkook!” you laugh, swatting lightly at his chest, your cheeks warming at the suggestion.

“What?” he asks innocently, though his grin only widens. “I’m just reminding you that you said yes.”

“I-“

He cut you off with another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate. More urgent.

And when he pulls back, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “Maybe I can convince you tonight.”

Your heart races at the low, teasing tone of his voice. His hand slips beneath the hem of your sweater, his touch warm against your skin as he traces light patterns along your back.

“You’re crazy,” you whine, though your voice lacked any real protest.

Jungkook chuckles, his breath hot against your neck. “Only because I know how amazing we are together. And because I love the idea of us growing our little family.”

The sincerity in his words melts any resistance you might have had, and you find yourself leaning into him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“You wanna start trying already?” you ask softly, your lips brushing against his.

Jungkook pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes filled with excitement and love. “Well, we shouldn’t waste any time.”

You laugh, your heart full as you let him guide you closer, his lips capturing yours once again. The fire burns low, its warmth nothing compared to the heat between the two of you.

“Let’s head upstairs,” Jungkook says as he pulls away. “I want to do this properly.”

You eyes soften as you nod. Preparing yourself for the night to stretch on, knowing it will be filled with whispered promises of love and … filth.

The bedroom is dimly lit, the only light coming from the crackling fire in the hearth and the glow of the Christmas lights strung around the bed. The air is warm, thanks to the fireplace, and is scented with the faint aroma of pine and cinnamon.

Jungkook sets you down on the ground gently, his hands lingering on your hips as he steps back to admire you. Your red sweater and matching skirt make you look like a holiday gift, and he couldn’t wait to unwrap you.

“Take it off,” he commands, voice calm yet husky. “Slowly.”

Your cheeks warm, but you obey, your hands moving to the hem of your sweater. You peel it off inch by inch, revealing the lacy black bra underneath.

The universe was on your side.

Jungkook’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening as he watches you. When you finally toss the sweater aside, his hands are on you again, thumbs brushing over the lace before slipping beneath it to cup your breasts.

“You look beautiful,” he declares, voice low yet you are still able to sense that it is thick with emotion.

A smile tugs at your lips as you glance up at him. Jungkook moves closer, lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, his voice a velvety caress that makes your skin prickle with heat.

You laugh softly, leaning into him. “It feels like our first time all over again,” you say, heart racing.

“Does it?” he asks, although you know he isn’t looking for an answer.

The air between you and your husband is thick.

Thick with anticipation.

The low flicker of the fire casts a light shadow across his features as he looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world. One hand rests on your hip, his grip firm yet gentle, as he thumbs at the band of your lacy underwear. The other is wrapped around your waist, holding you close as though he’s scared you’re about to get away.

You gaze at one another with eyes full of love.

Jungkook is a drug. Your drug. One touch from him and the intoxication is instant. It always has been.

This man could tell you to do anything, absolutely anything, and that is exactly what you would do. His gaze, his scent, his everything sends you into a heady trance.

You guide his digits to your centre, your sticky core waiting for him. Jungkook rubs your soaked lacy underwear, groaning deeply as he takes in your wetness.

“And I thought it was just me who was excited,” he whispers in an indulging tone, voice rich with lust as he draws you closer with his free hand, lips finding yours. “Look at you, angel, you’re fucking drenched.”

You respond by pulling him closer by dark tendrils, capturing his lips against yours. The kiss starts slow, tender, but it doesn’t take long for the heat to intensify.

Jungkook’s hand slides up to cradle your jaw, angling your face as his lips move against yours, each kiss growing deeper, hungrier. Your fingers tangle in his soft strands as you tug gently, earning another low groan from your husband, vibrating against your mouth.

“Jungkook…” you whine between kisses, your body starting to need more.

Before you can say anything else, his hands are on your waist, lifting you effortlessly like you weigh absolutely nothing. Jungkook carries you to the bed, his lips never leaving yours, and when your back hits the mattress, the world tilts slightly.

You lock eyes for just a moment, just enough for you to feel safe with one another. And then? Then Jungkook is all business.

Pulling your underwear off, he begins by kissing from your toes upward, slowly, his hands on your legs, always inching just a little higher than the kisses he plants.

Your back arches in anticipation, knowing where his fingers will soon reach. And as he does, your head rocks against the fluffy pillow, the first moan escaping your lips.

Jungkook hovers above you, one knee pressing into the bed. His dark hair falls forward, brushing against your skin as he leans in, his lips trailing from your mouth to your jawline and then lower, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your neck before pulling back slightly.

The mattress dips beneath his weight as he shifts, his free hand bracing beside your head. You feel the tension in his body - the strength in his arms as he hovers above you, the control in every deliberate movement - and it’s intoxicating.

Your hands roam down his back, tracing the lean muscles. The firelight casts golden shadows across his bare chest, highlighting every dip and curve, and for a moment, all you can do is stare.

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you again, his lips brushing yours as he teases, “See something you like?”

You roll your eyes, but your laughter catches in your throat as his mouth claims yours again. The kiss is hotter, slower, more deliberate, pulling you further under his spell. His hands explore every inch of you, mapping your body as though he’s determined to remember every detail, his touch setting your nerves alight.

“You’re irresistible,” Jungkook groans, the sound itself sending you into a deep spiral.

He bends down, his mouth capturing one nipple through the fabric, sucking gently until you arch into him, another moan escaping your lips, louder this time. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavishes attention on your other breast, his tongue darting out to tease the sensitive peak.

Arching into him, you massage his scalp and moan pleasurably as he prods at your nipple with his scandalous tongue. He fondles your other breast, kneading it which has you sighing out in bliss.

“Oh fuck, I love your tongue,” you whine gratifyingly whilst he continues his soft assault on your breast, sucking and tugging at your nipples lewdly. Your fingers inch further into his hair when you feel him jut his tongue out, licking around the soft area.

Jungkook moves to place kisses between the valley of your breasts, making his way further down your sexy body, still fondling your breasts delightly. You arch further into him, half-lidded gaze peering down at him, massaging his scalp whilst he perfectly nips at your smooth skin, ascending you to cloud nine.

Sighing out in sheer ecstasy, you tug Jungkook closer to you. His hand canvases down your body, cupping your soaked sex in his palm.

You let out a scandalised gasp, gut filling with heat.

“Always so fucking wet, princess,” Jungkook groans as he glides his two fingers through your tight cunt. You brace yourself on his broad shoulders, breathing heavily and Jungkook revels in each sultry sound that leaves your pretty mouth.

“J-just for you,” you manage to whimper out as his fingers skim around your battered mound. Jungkook begins to push your legs apart and releases a satisfied hum when he sees how soaked your cunt is for him.

Jungkook pulls back, winking at you before moving forward to kiss down your body. To where you need him most. His lips adorn every inch of your body and your core ignites when you feel him reach closer to your already naked sex.

Jungkook’s eyes locking onto yours as he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. The garment falls, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze. His hands roam over your body, tracing every curve, every dip, while his lips replaced his fingers, kissing and nibbling along your collarbone, your shoulders, your throat.

“You’re mine,” he growls against your skin, his voice vibrating through you. “All mine.”

You shudder from the cold, now completely naked, your breath coming in shallow gasps as he hovers above you. His fingers trail down your stomach, stopping just above where you need him most. He glances up at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief before his fingers dipped lower, sliding through your folds.

“So wet for me,” he groans, voice dripping with possessiveness. He circles your clit once, twice, before delving inside you, his fingers thrusting deep as he continues to stroke your most sensitive spot.

Jungkook’s thumb was gentle yet insistent as he traced lazy circles around your clit, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You lay back against the plush pillows, your breath hitching as he leans over you, his dark eyes smoldering with desire. His lips brushes against your ear, his voice low and husky as he whispers, “Everyone will see you swollen and know I’ve fucked you.”

You moan, unable to form words as his fingers dip inside you, teasingly slow at first.

Jungkook watches your face intently, his thumb pressing against your clit in a rhythm that has you arching off the bed. “You’re so hot,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with approval. “So ready to be bred.”

His fingers move faster now, scissoring inside you while his mouth trailed kisses along your jawline. “Tell me,” he demands, his tone commanding yet laced with tenderness. “Tell me how much you want this.”

“Yes,” you gasp, your hips instinctively meeting his hand. “I want… I want you so bad.”

Jungkook chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Not just me,” he corrected, his voice growing deeper. “You want our baby. Tell me.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as the weight of his words settles over you. “I do,” you admit, voice trembling. “I want - oh, God ; I want everything with you.”

Jungkook’s eyes are coloured with a shade of satisfaction, as he adds in another one of his delicious fingers, satiating your ache for more.

You cry out, your hands gripping his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure seeps through you. Jungkook’s free hand moves to your plump ass, squeezing roughly as his fingers pick up speed, plunging in and out of you with increasing urgency.

“Tell me,” he demands, his voice gruff. "Tell me who’s got you soaked."

“You,” you croon, your voice breaking. “I’m wet for you.”

At your words, he stands, lifting you once again and placing you on the edge of the mattress. His fingers leave your aching core, and you only hope it is replaced by his mouth, the image of his tongue lapping at you with fervor making you shudder.

You cry out his name, your back arching as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

Jungkook moves his head in front of your cunt, breathing against it deeply, knowing the sensation of his hot breath would spur you on further.

And it certainly does.

You jerk rapidly as Jungkook places a kiss to your clit and your insides constrict, anticipating his next ministration.

“Can I eat you out?,” Jungkook huskily asks. He knows how tired you must be, so he ensures he’s safe to go ahead. Your chest swells with butterflies, in awe of how caring your husband is.

You move forward and cup his cheek, urging him to look towards you. You smile at him brightly, nodding your head and place a quick peck against his swollen lips.

Jungkook is quick to get back in position, paying attention to your leaking cunt again. He lifts your legs over his shoulders, letting them rest there daintily. You lean back, palms planted on the mattress beneath you as you savour the view before you.

Your sexy husband stands before you with his exposed, tanned and Apollo-sculpted body ready to devour you whole. Jungkook breathes against your folds and you quiver with arousal. His hands massage the inside of your thighs, calming your anticipation.

“My wife’s so pretty,” he whispers before moving to press a gentle kiss on your clit. You shudder at the sensitivity, bucking your hips into his face, yearning for more.

You run your fingers through his dark tresses, tightening your grip on his scalp. “Jungkook, pleasee,” you whine, arching into him more in the hopes that he’ll provide you with some form of relief.

“Patience baby,” Jungkook murmurs before jutting out the tip of his tongue and lightly tracing your nether lips. You squirm, moaning his name shamelessly and uttering soft pleas as you mentally pine for more contact from his skillful tongue. Jungkook feels more turned on as he hears you become more needy despite him not having done very much.

“I’ve got you, princess,” he growls before licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He latches onto your quivering cunt, making out with it and sucking on your labia. Jungkook buries himself further as he gathers your slickness on his tongue. You mewl at the euphoric sensation his tongue supplies and he provides you with no mercy as he eats you up with his masterful tongue.

Bucking your hips closer to his face, you wordlessly beg for more and Jungkook abides almost immediately, lapping at your folds like a starved man. He flattens his tongue against your cunt, generously sucking on the pulsing bud. Jungkook groans at the sweet flavour of your juices that has you reeling for more.

He repeatedly licks up your slit shamelessly, tongue delving into you deeper and deeper as he cranes his own neck with no care in the world. He basks in the mess between your legs, chest swelling with pride as he realises it’s all for him. Only him.

“Fuck,” he moans into your cunt, “your pussy always tastes so good. Fucking missed this,” he says as if he hadn’t woken you up by eating you out this morning.

His large, tattooed hands fail to stay still. They move from holding your thighs apart to having a tight grip on your ass, pulling you further into him.

“L-love seeing your face between my thighs,” you manage to voice weakly.

“I know you do,” Jungkook replies whilst bringing his thumb to rub against your aching clit. You rut your hips in his face, head falling back as the pleasure washes over you.

“Jungkoook, fuckk.”

He buries himself closer into your pulsing folds, nose burrowed deep within. Your hips develop a mind of their own and you begin to grind against his face, practically riding it. Jungkook hums satisfyingly as he moves his hands to rest on your ass again. He probes you forward and rocks your hips back and forth against his face making you grab a fistful of his hair, earning a slight hiss from him.

His hooded eyes meet your own and you send a lazy smirk his way as you rut your hips against his face. Your wetness from riding his nose, chin and tongue glistens on his skin which somehow turns you on more.

“Ahh shit,” you cry out, internally thanking the Heavens above that your cabin is located in a secluded area. You only hope Areum doesn’t wake up.

Whilst you continue to ride his face, Jungkook licks up and around your folds ravenously and his fingers bore into the meat of your ass.

He angles himself better and secures his lips down around your mound, dragging his tongue around until he latches onto your sensitive clit again. You moan lewdly and lurch when you feel Jungkook press his devious tongue against your throbbing bud.

“I’m gonna come!” You cry out, riding his face at a faster pace and your grip on his hair becoming tighter. Jungkook suckles your clit, tongue running through your folds, providing you with eons of paradisiacal pleasure. He shoves his face deeper into your cunt, violently capturing it with his plush, swollen lips and his grasp on you becomes harder.

You feel him smirk against you before he brings those bunny teeth of his and bites down on your clit. Your body jolts at the impact, but still manages to send hot, orgasmic spikes of arousal through your veins.

“Oh fuck,” you sharply moan, the need to come undone too prominent now.

“Come for me, angel,” he coos at you, hands moving to soothe your lower back. His dulcet voice does it for you and you feel your orgasm wash over you vigorously. Your hips grind against your husband's stupidly handsome face and he laps at your palpitating pussy.

Your mind spins and stomach bubbles as you come down from your high. Jungkook continues his assault, lapping at thecum that stains your cunt before he pulls away. You meet his desperate eyes, shimmering lips and a scandalous grin as he pants harshly.

You beckon him to you eagerly, hands growing taxed as you reach for his sweaty neck and pull him in for an all too chaste kiss. Smothering your mouth with his, you groan as you taste your essence on his enticing lips.

You devour his mouth, nibbling at his plump lower lip.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.”

You chuckle at him simping over you once again, tugging him closer. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist and continue to mouth at him languidly, tongues tangling together.

Jungkook smiles against you, gushing at your sudden boldness. He runs his hand up and down the expanse of your back, gleefully continuing to make out with you.

But he isn’t done yet. When you were teetering on the brink, Jungkook pulls away, standing and stripping off his own clothes in seconds. His cock is hard and throbbing, and you can’t help but reach for him, your fingers curling around his length.

“Not yet,” he growls, stepping back. Jungkook positions himself between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance.

“Look at me,” he commands, his eyes boring into yours. “I’m fucking you full of my cum tonight.”

With that, he thrust inside you, filling you completely. You cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he claims you, his hips snapping forward with brutal precision. Every thrust is deliberate, every movement calculated to bring you both to the edge.

Jungkook’s hands grips your thighs, holding you steady as he pounds into you. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he moans, voice ragged. “Always so tight and ready for her husband.”

You cling to him, legs wrapping around his slim waist as you meet every thrust, your bodies moving as one. The tension between you is electric, crackling in the air as you both race toward release.

Then, without warning, Jungkook pulls out, flipping you onto your back and positioning himself between your legs once more. He grabs hold of your hips, lifting you slightly before slamming back into you.

“Ride me,” he demands with his sultry voice.

“Jungkook!” you cry, your hips rising to meet his, your body instinctively obeying his command. You shift your position, your core contracting around him as you take control, riding him with everything you had.

“Jungkook, you fuck me so good.”

“I know baby, I know,” he says, almost condescendingly.

Jungkook’s hands grips your hips firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he guides you with precision. You feel the intensity of his desire in every movement, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Ride your husband’s dick like you mean it.” His voice is low, almost a growl, sending shivers down your spine.

You obey without hesitation, rising slowly at first, the sensation of him inside you igniting a fire that spreads through your core. Your breasts bounce gently with each upward motion, the weight of them reminding you of how close you both are to this shared dream.

Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours, his dark irises locked onto your gaze as if he can see straight into your soul. There is no doubt that he probably could.

“Faster,” he urges, his hand moving from your hip to your thigh, encouraging you to pick up the pace. You comply, drawing in a sharp breath as your body adjusted to the rhythm.

The room is quiet except for the sound of your bodies colliding, the slap of flesh against flesh echoing softly. Jungkook’s other hand finds your breast, kneading it roughly as his thumb brushed across your nipple, sending electric shocks through your system.

“Do you feel how ready you are for me?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with possessive heat. “Your body is perfect, so wet, so tight for me.” His words sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, and you can’t help but moan loudly, your head falling back as you surrender to the sensations.

Jungkook takes advantage of your distracted state, shifting his hold on you and flipping you onto your back once more. His chest pressed against yours, his weight grounding you as he begins to thrust deeply, each movement deliberate and unrelenting.

“Tell me you want this,” he demands, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. “Tell me you want my baby.”

The intensity of his question catches you off guard, but the truth is already bubbling up from deep within you. “Yes,” you whine, clutching at his shoulders as his thrusts grow more urgent. “I want you, I want this… want us.”

His response is rough, hips snapping forward as he drives into you with renewed vigor. “Good girl,” he praises, his voice thick with arousal.

“So good for me.” He reaches between you, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in circles that synced perfectly with his movements.

You cry out, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure builds higher and higher. Jungkook’s hand moves again, this time slipping lower, two fingers pressing into you alongside his cock. “God, you’re so wet for me,” he notes, voice strained. “So ready to become a mother again.”

The combination of his fingers and his cock was overwhelming, every nerve ending in your body lighting up like a firework. You can feel the orgasm building, closer and closer until there is no holding it back.

“Jungkook!” you scream his name, your body convulsing around him as you come, stars bursting behind your closed eyelids.

He doesn’t stop, not even for a second. If anything, his movements become more intense, his breathing ragged as he chases his own release. “Stay with me, baby,” he commanded, his voice gravelly. “Don’t let go yet.”

You cling to him, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist as he continues to pound into you, his fingers still working their magic. “Almost there,” he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his climax. “Almost…”

And then he freezes, his body tensing as he comes inside you with a deep groan, his seed spilling into you with an urgency that betrays his desperation to make this moment real. “Mine,” he says roughly, voice breaking as he collapses onto you, his breathing heavy.

For a long moment, neither of you speak, the only sound heard is the rapid beating of your combined hearts.

Jungkook’s lips find yours, kissing you deeply as if sealing the promise they had just made.

“This is just the beginning,” he whispers against your lips, his voice filled with conviction.

“Our family starts here,” Jungkook affirms, caressing your hips softly.

The morning sun crept over the horizon, its golden rays slipping through the cabin’s frosted windows and telling you a story that today will be a perfect day.

You stir first, the soft glow coaxing you from the cocoon of blankets. Jungkook is still fast asleep beside you, his face relaxed in a way that makes your heart swell. His hair was tousled, his lips slightly parted, one arm flung protectively over your waist as if even in sleep, he couldn’t bear to let you go.

Careful not to wake him, you shift slightly, your gaze falling on the fireplace across the room. The embers had long since died, leaving a bed of ash that glowed faintly in the morning light. Outside, the snow glittered like diamonds, untouched and pristine.

Last night replays in your mind, every whispered word and shared touch lingering like a secret promise. A soft blush warms your cheeks as you rest a hand on your stomach, wondering, hoping.

Before your thoughts spiral further, Jungkook groans beside you, his arm tightening around you as his eyes flutter open. He blinks a few times, his face slowly breaking into a sleepy smile as he finds you watching him.

“Morning,” he sighs, his voice rough with sleep.

“Morning, baby,” you respond, brushing a strand of hair from his face and leaning in to kiss his forehead.

Jungkook leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed again for a brief moment. “You’re glowing,” he says softly, cracking one eye open to peek at you.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true,” Jungkook pronounces confidently, pulling you closer until your foreheads touch. “Last night…” His voice trails off, a grin spreading across his face. “Let’s just say I think we’ve got good odds.”

Your stomach turns at the memory of Jungkook fucking you so intensely. You’d been at it most of the night, Jungkook wanting to try as many positions as possible. Your husband's stamina was as high as the chances of you being pregnant already.

“Confident, are we?” you tease, though your heart is still skipping at the thought.

“With you? Always.”

The two of you lay there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other and the promise of what was to come. Eventually, the sound of tiny feet padding down the stairs broke the peaceful quiet.

“Eomma!” Areum’s voice calls out, bright and cheerful.

Jungkook groans dramatically, burying his face in your neck. “She’s too good at waking up early,” he mumbles, making you laugh. “I thought I might be lucky enough to have you ride me into being fully awake.”

“Come on,” you chuckle, nudging him playfully. “I’ll ride you later.”

With a sigh and a mumble of ‘you better’, Jungkook rolls out of bed, grabbing a pair of fresh boxers from the open suitcase and tossing his hoodie to you.

“Get it on, we don’t need to show her our anatomy just yet.”

You chuckle, quickly slip the hoodie over your head, before padding out to meet Areum, who stands at the bottom of the stairs clutching her favourite stuffed bunny.

“There’s snow everywhere!” she exclaims, her eyes wide with excitement.

“I know, princess,” Jungkook brightly says, scooping her up into his arms. “Maybe after breakfast, we can go outside and build the biggest snowman you’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” Areum’s face lit up, her joy infectious. “Bigger than the one at yoonie samchon’s house?”

“Of course,” he replies, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Ours will be much better.”

That competitive streak will never die.

You watch them with a soft smile, the sight of Jungkook cradling her so naturally makes your heart ache in the best way.

“Eomma, you’ll help too, right?” Areum asks, turning her bright eyes on you as she finally notices your presence.

“Of course,” you warmly respond, reaching out to take her into your arms. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

As the three of you settle into the kitchen, the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes filling the air. A quiet sense of peace lingers and you feel whole.

Jungkook catches your eye over the rim of his coffee mug, his lips quirking into a small, knowing smile. He didn't say anything, but he didn’t need to. You knew. You always did.

Whatever the future held, whatever new adventures or challenges lay ahead, you knew you’d face them together.

And maybe, just maybe, there was already a tiny spark of new life waiting to join your little family.

A Quiet Christmas was exactly what you needed.

You reach for your phone, capturing a photo of your husband and Areum scrunching their noses as they laugh at one another.

The photo is quick to make it to your instagram, with a sweet caption that summarises it all.

Our Quiet Christmas.

And there we have it! I hope dad!jk made you feel as cosy as I felt writing this 🦢! Merry Christmas, my loves ; I hope you have a wonderful Christmas 🎄.

Here is my masterlist if you would like to check out my other works <3

↠ Taglist : @iamstilljk @lovingkoalaface @kooeuphoria @jeonsgf-97 @taeskrve @freshmoondragon (names in italics - I was unable to tag)

#bts fics #jungkook fics #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook one shot #jungkook drabbles #bts oneshots #bts pwp #jungkook pwp

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ladyviserra · 2 months ago

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jacaerys velaryon playing a kissing game with his velaryon cousin

You sat opposite him, recounting one of the old tales your mother used to read to you.

"—and when the Lady and the knight finally kissed, " she said, rolling her eyes with amusement, " my brothers would groan and throw their faces into the pillows. Every time. Without fail. "

Jacaerys laughed, warm and easy. " It's probably because they haven't had their first kiss. "

You shook your head faintly, a small smile tugging at your lips. " I didn’t mind that part. " she said absently, almost too quietly.

Jacaerys tilted his head, curious. " No? Why not? "

Your eyes flicked up to him, bright and unreadable. " I don’t know. I suppose… I liked the way it made everything else stop. Like the story held its breath. "

He leaned forward slightly, his smile softening. " What about your first kiss? "

You shrugged once, a little awkward. " I haven't had one. "

Jacaerys chuckled low in his throat, then, with a boyish grin, he asked, " Would you like to try the part of the story that made everything stop? "

Your breath caught, just slightly, but you didn’t look away.

Jacaerys' smile faltered, not with doubt, but with sincerity. He waited. Watched you closely, respectfully. Her gaze didn’t drop. If anything, you tilted your head, only a little, the way one might lean into a breeze rather than shy from it.

“ I suppose,” you said quietly, “ I would. ”

That was all the permission he needed. Jacaerys closed the space between you slowly, deliberately, like walking into a dream he wasn’t sure he deserved. His hand came to rest against the side of your face. Your skin was warm, at a soothing temperature. Your lips met, a gentle press, uncertain only in that it was new. When they parted, just barely, foreheads leaning together. “ That wasn’t like in the story. ”

“ No? ” Jacaerys murmured, still close.

You smiled, eyes fluttering open. “ It was better. ”

He chuckled, boyishly. “ I hope your brothers never find out. ”

“ They won’t. ” you said, brushing your thumb over his knuckles where his hand still held your cheek. “ Unless you’re planning on kissing me in front of them. ”

Jacaerys grinned. “ No… but I am planning on kissing you again. ”

“ Now? ” you asked, barely more than a whisper.

This time, he went slower. His fingers slid back into your hair, and you leaned into him, hands curled against his chest where she could feel the rhythm of his heart matching her own. The second kiss was deeper, more certain, not the tentative sweetness of before, but something that said yes, we are here, we are doing it and feeling it.

Their foreheads still touching, your breath warm against his cheek, whispering, “ It wasn’t like that in the story either. ”

Jacaerys pulled back slightly, eyebrows raising. “ No? ”

You gave a small, secretive smile. “ No. ”

“ Well then, ” he murmured, amused and intrigued, “ show me how it went. ”

Without hesitation, you leaned in, with a careful purpose. You pressed a small, quick peck to his lips, then pulled back just an inch. “ It went like this, ” you said softly. Another featherlight kiss. “ And then… ” your eyes flicking to his before closing again.

You kissed him a third time, no longer a peck, but a lingering touch. Your lips moved with his, gently at first, but growing deeper, bolder. You tilted your head, fingers brushing along his jaw as your mouths found a rhythm. It wasn’t rushed. It was curious and warm, slow and sweet.

When you finally broke apart, breath mingling in the space between, Jacaerys laughed, a low, breathless sound.

“It surely wasn’t like that in the story.”

You grinned honestly, slightly flushed. “I… extended it.”

He looked at you, eyes sparkling with something between mischief and awe. “Then a stop right now would not be proper.”

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #prince jacaerys #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #hotd fic #hotd #game of thrones imagine #house of the dragon #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #asoiaf fic #jacaerys velaryon x reader

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marscardigan · 3 months ago

Text

war of hearts — chapter i. meet the realm’s delight

series masterlist

summary: royal au. ellie williams had a reputation as one of jackson’s most skilled spies. no matter the cost, she always accomplished her missions, and never dared to fail. everything changes when she is ordered to assassinate the only daughter of the wolves’ king. the lines blur. and the mission that should have been easy and fast, becomes anything but.

word count: 3.3k

Spring came early that year.

Outside the castle walls, the city hummed with life. The market square was bustling with merchants selling all types of meals and fine silks, their voices rising with laughter. The scent of fresh bread drifted through the streets. Children wavered between the stalls, their shrieks of joy getting muffled with the voices of their parents.

Inside the palace, however, the sounds of the city were only a distant melody. Sunlight poured through stained-glass windows, scattering patches of red, blue, and green onto the polished floors. Servants bustled about with hurried footsteps, balancing trays of wine and fresh fruit, their whispers echoing faintly against the high ceilings.

But in the eastern wing, where no urgent matters of the court reached, you lounged in a sunlit chamber, draped lazily across a cushioned chaise. No duties weighed upon your shoulders yet—no council meetings, no diplomatic pleasantries, no tiresome lessons in proper decorum. It was one of the privileges of being a princess, free from the immediate burdens of ruling, yet surrounded by luxury and expectation.

The walls were adorned with shelves overflowing with books, their spines worn from use. A great hearth crackled with a low-burning fire, a lingering remembrance of the fading winter.

A tray rested nearby, holding a goblet of expensive wine and a plate of honeyed figs, untouched for now. The scent of lavender drifted through the room, carried by the gentle breeze slipping in from the open balcony doors.

The tranquility of the morning was disrupted by the steady rhythm of boots against the pavement. You didn't bother to rise from your comfortable sprawl to know who it was, but you still shifted your gaze toward the doorway as the heavy wooden doors creaked open.

And there she was. Abigail, your father's most trusted knight, and your personal guard. She was clad in her usual armor, the gleaming silver polished to perfection, and her sword belted securely at her waist. Her blonde hair was tied back in a practical braid, revealing her sharp features, her expression composed.

"Your Highness," she greeted, inclining her head slightly. She had always been formal with you, no matter how many times you told her to drop the titles. However, you both knew there was a friendship underneath all those pleasantries.

You hummed in response, reaching for a fig from your tray, twirling it idly between your fingers. "Abby. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Her lips twitched slightly, almost amused, but she remained composed. "Your father has requested your presence in the council chamber."

"Oh. What for?"

When she heard the smallest concern in your voice, she hesitated. That alone made your stomach twist. Abby was not one to falter. "The Scars are growing impatient," she said at last. "The streets are already whispering rumors about an upcoming war."

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, oblivious to the sudden chill in the room.

You studied Abby carefully. There was something different in her posture—not quite fear, but something close. A heaviness in her stance, a tension in the way her hand rested near the hilt of her sword, as if she expected violence to erupt at any moment.

"Take me to him," you finally said, standing.

Abby hesitated, just for a moment, before giving a single nod. "As you wish." She turned on her heel, leading the way.

You didn't know how you, of all people, were asked to be there. But soon that question would be answered by the king itself.

The council chamber was as cold when you entered. All the men turned to look at you, their gazes shifting uncomfortably beneath their cloaks. Some of them, men who had known you since you were a child, looked away entirely. As if they were ashamed. As if they already knew the burden about to be placed upon your shoulders.

Silence appeared to be welcomed then. Only one man remained unaffected. Your father sat at the head of the council table, his posture unwavering, his chin tilted slightly upward with command. King Isaac Dixon was not a man easily shaken.

He called out your name, his voice low and steady. You stepped forward, keeping your expression carefully neutral, and hiding your nervous hands behind your gown. "Did you want to see me, Father?"

"Sit with us," he instructed, motioning to the chair nearest to him.

You obeyed, as Abby remained by the door, but her eyes never leaving your figure. Isaac exhaled through his nose, folding his hands together atop the heavy oak table. "I trust you've heard the rumors."

You met his gaze evenly. "If you are referring to the whispers of war, then yes."

A low murmur rippled through the councilmen. You ignored it. The king inclined his head. "Then you must understand the gravity of our situation."

You did. You wished you didn't, but you did.

"The people grow restless," he continued. "Fear festers in their hearts. Fear leads to doubt. And doubt—" he glanced at the men seated around the table, his voice hardening, "—leads to disloyalty."

You remained silent, your nails biting the soft flesh of your palms.

"This war is inevitable," he said, matter-of-factly. "We cannot prevent it. But what we can do is control the narrative. We can give our people something else to focus on. Something grand. Something that will shift their attention away from the looming threat outside our walls."

"The realm needs hope." His gaze was steady, unwavering. "And nothing inspires hope quite like a royal wedding."

Your stomach twisted. There it was. You willed yourself not to react, not to let the horror creeping up your spine show on your face.

Isaac leaned forward slightly, his hands still folded together. "We need alliances. Strong ones. Wealthy ones. Noble families with power, with armies. Families that will not hesitate to stand at our side when the time comes."

A marriage for protection. For power. Not for love. You swallowed, the taste of iron sharp on your tongue.

"And what if I refuse?" The words were quiet, barely above a whisper.

The room stilled, Abby as well. For the first time, your father's expression shifted—something colder settling into the sharp angles of his face. "You will not."

It wasn't a threat. It wasn't even a command— It was simply fact. Your throat felt tight, but you nodded.

Isaac eased back into his chair, his features smoothing once more. "To make this more… palatable, we will host a masquerade ball. A grand affair, one that will bring all the noble families from the neighboring realms under our roof."

A masked ball. A spectacle to parade you before potential suitors. Your fingers dug into the velvet of your gown, hidden beneath the table.

"You will dance," Isaac continued, as if this was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "You will charm. And you will make your choice by the night's end."

The weight of the words pressed against your ribs, suffocating. A choice. That was what he was offering you. But not truly. The choice had already been made.

You inhaled slowly, forcing yourself to remain composed. "And if I do this," you said, voice carefully measured, "you believe it will be enough to distract our people?"

Isaac studied you for a long moment. "They will have something to celebrate," he said. "That is all that matters."

Another silence. You didn't look convinced, but again, it wasn't your choice to make.

"They love you. Once the war comes, and you are newly married, they will want to protect you. They will fight for you. Die for you."

Then, reluctantly, you lowered your head in something close to acceptance. Isaac nodded once. "Then it is decided," he said, turning his attention back to the council. "The invitations will be sent at once."

The murmurs started up again, the men already discussing logistics, preparations. As if you weren't even there.

You felt something inside you crack. But you did not let it show. Instead, you sat there, spine straight, hands resting neatly in your lap, and heart quietly breaking inside your chest.

The council meeting had been ended for hours now. The nobles had dispersed, their voices trailing down the grand halls as they busied themselves with preparations.

You had remained seated long after the men had gone, your posture rigid, hands still neatly folded in your lap. The weight of it all pressed upon you, the mere thought suffocating.

And then, finally, when the last murmurs faded beyond the heavy doors, your father spoke. "You are upset."

It was not a question. You exhaled through your nose, tilting your head slightly toward him. The golden candlelight flickered against his face, casting sharp shadows along his jaw.

"I am not upset, Father."

A lie. He smiled, as if he could hear the falsehood in your voice. "You never could deceive me, little one."

You almost scoffed at the endearment. Isaac leaned forward, resting his elbows against the table. "You think I am cruel."

You stiffened. "I think nothing of the sort."

Another lie.

"You are my daughter. My only daughter; not by blood, but by something much stronger. Do you believe I would send you into this blindly? Do you truly think I would place you in any harm willingly?"

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your gown. "It is not harm that frightens me."

His brow lifted slightly, intrigued. "Then what is it that frightens you?"

You hesitated, but only for a moment. "A future that is not my own."

A pause. Then, Isaac sighed, shaking his head. "You are still so young." His voice softened, as if speaking to a petulant child. "You do not yet understand the ways of the world."

You clenched your jaw, but you said nothing.

"I have protected you," he continued, voice lower now, measured. "Since the day I married your mother."

At the mention of her, your throat tightened. And he noticed. He always noticed.

"I have done everything for you," he pressed. "Sheltered you. Kept you safe from the horrors beyond these walls. From the men who would see you as nothing more than a pawn."

You swallowed, hard. "And yet, you now hand me to one of them."

Isaac exhaled sharply through his nose, as if exhausted by your defiance. "How come you still think this is about you?"

That startled you. "What?"

"This is not about you, child. This is about our people."

A cold, heavy silence settled between you.

"They need something to hold on to," he said. "Something to celebrate. Do you understand? War is at our doorstep, and a kingdom cannot be ruled through fear alone. They must have hope. And you will give it to them."

Your lips parted, but no words came. His hand found your shoulder, firm and steady.

"You will be safe," he promised. "You will be loved. You will have everything you could ever need."

You stared at the empty goblet before you, not daring to face his gaze. "And what of what I want?"

His fingers tightened, just slightly. "This is what you want."

Your breath caught in your throat. Because the way he said it made you doubt yourself for a moment. Hadn't he always taken care of you? Hadn't he always given you what you needed? Hadn't he always known best?

Your silence must have pleased him, because his grip loosened, a softer expression crossing his face.

"I know this is difficult," he said, his voice lowering to something almost tender. "But you will see, in time. You will see that I everything I have ever done is to protect you."

You exhaled, long and slow. There was no point in fighting it. There never had been. Isaac gave your shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before stepping back.

"The ball will proceed as planned," he said. "It will be a grand affair. A night to remember."

Your lips pressed into a thin line, the words feeling like a cruel joke.

"I promised your mother I would take care of you" he added, already moving toward the door. "And that is exactly what I am going to do."

And then he was gone. You sat there, staring at the candle's wavering flame. And despite everything, despite the dread sitting heavy in your chest, you felt the faintest echo of his voice in your mind.

This is what you want.

And you wondered how many more times he would have to say it before you finally believed it.

Before Abby could knock at your door, a muffled moan escaped from inside. Her brows lifted slightly. A quick glance down the hallway confirmed there were no wandering servants, no prying ears to hear it. A slow smirk curled at the corner of her lips as she settled back against the wooden door, arms crossed over her chest.

Minutes passed, and the door finally creaked open, and from the dimly lit chamber emerged one of your companions—a lady of noble blood, her cheeks all flushed. She barely met Abby's gaze as she hurried past, fingers fumbling with the buttons of her nightgown.

Amusement flickered in Abby's expression, but she remained silent, stepping into the room and pulling the door shut behind her.

The scent of lavender and sex lingered in the air. You sat before your dresser, running a silver brush through your messy hair.

Abby took a step closer, her smirk widening. You met her gaze through the reflection of the mirror, eyes still laced with the hazy satisfaction of your earlier indulgence.

She could still see pearls of sweat running down your forehead, how tired you looked. And still, you managed to look as alluring as always.

"I trust it was worth your time?" Abby mused, leaning against the post of your bed.

A slow, languid smile spread across your lips. "Believe me, it was."

She huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "I hate to intrude on whatever fantasy you've made up for yourself, but Lady Charlotte is married."

"And yet," you hummed, setting down your brush and turning to look at her, "she still comes to my bed when she is needy."

Abby exhaled through her nose, her gaze dropping to the floor for a fleeting moment. She knew of your lovers—all women, most of them married, some of them not. She also knew the weight of this knowledge. It was a secret that, in the wrong hands, could destroy you. And yet, you had entrusted it to her.

"Lucky you," Abby murmured, tilting her head. "Your father's knights spend their days fighting for power, and you—" she gestured vaguely toward the bed "—collect it underneath your silk sheets."

You let out a soft chuckle, rising from your seat with slow, deliberate grace. "Power comes in many forms, Abigail."

Abby fought the way her stomach twisted at the sound of her full name on your tongue. Your gaze flickered over her, sharp and knowing. "And tell me, did you come to scold me for my indulgences, or is there another reason you stand in my chambers?"

The teasing tone in your voice did not stop her from straightening. The humor faded from her features swiftly. "I came to talk to you about council met with your father this morning," she said, voice low.

That caught your attention. Your expression remained poised, but Abby knew you well enough to see the shift in your stance, the way your shoulders squared as though bracing for impact.

“And?” you prompted.

"Invitations will be sent before dawn."

You swallowed, hard. Suddenly, you felt dizzy, and you had to sit on your bed. Eveything was happening so fast, and you wouldn't be able to stop it, not this time.

Abby looked at you, her blue eyes drowned in concern. But your facade turned warm again, before she could even express her distress. Both of you sat there, in silence, knowing how everything would change after that ball.

"Let's just hope the people are happy about the announcement."

The dim glow of lanterns cast long shadows across the wooden beams of the tavern. The Tipsy Bison hummed with the murmurs of men exchanging gold and frauds in equal measure.

Ellie Williams sat at a table near the back, half-hidden by the flickering light. A deck of cards rested in her hand, her fingers idly shuffling them as she leaned back in her chair, one boot propped against the table's edge. A game had just ended in her favor; her winnings—a small pile of silver coins—rested beside her. She had played without much interest, more for the satisfaction of watching the older men bristle when they lost to her than for any real need of coin.

The chair across from her creaked as someone lowered themselves into it. A heavy presence. Familiar. "Ellie," came the gruff voice.

She exhaled slowly, not bothering to look up from her stash of cards. "Joel."

He studied her for a moment, dark eyes unreadable beneath the brim of his worn hat. Then, without a word, he slid a folded letter across the table. Ellie regarded it with disinterest at first. Only when she noticed the wax seal—a deep crimson imprint of the royal crest—she paused.

Her brows furrowed. "What's this?"

Joel sat back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. "An opportunity."

Ellie picked up the letter, feeling the weight of it, the expensive parchment thick beneath her dirty fingertips. She turned it over, breaking the seal with a flick of her thumb.

Then she snorted. "A masquerade ball?" She cast him an amused glance. "Didn't take you for the dancing type."

Joel remained unimpressed. "It's not for me. Read further."

Ellie's smirk faded as she scanned the invitation more carefully. The name of the kingdom was one she recognized. Their armies were strong, ruthless. But they were at war.

Her fingers drummed once against the table before she looked up again. She seemed insulted by it. "You want me to attend this?"

Joel inclined his head. "Not as a guest, obviously."

She arched a brow. "Then as what?"

He was silent for a moment. "As a hunter."

Ellie set the letter down, interest finally piqued. But she tried not to let it show.

Joel exhaled through his nose, his gaze sharp. "War is on the horizon. The Wolves and the Scars are ready to rip each other apart, and when that happens, their gold will spill just as quickly as their blood." He leaned forward slightly. "Isaac's desperate to keep his people from turning against him after everything that happened. He needs alliances. Soldiers. And he's using his daughter to secure them."

"A royal wedding. A union to distract the people and gain favor among the noble houses."

Ellie's frown deepened. "And where do I come in?"

Joel's voice was even. "You take her."

Silence settled between them. Ellie stared at him, waiting for a hint of jest. There was none.

"You want me to abduct the princess," she stated, more to hear it aloud than to seek confirmation.

Joel only nodded. Ellie let out a low whistle, leaning back in her chair. "Gotta say, old man, that's ambitious—even for you."

"She's the king's precious treasure," Joel said. "If we take her, Isaac will pay. And if he won't, someone else will."

Ellie considered this. A princess was no small prize. Wars had been waged over less. If she was delivered into the wrong hands, she could be used as a weapon, a bargaining chip, a pawn in a game far greater than herself.

"And if she resists?" Ellie asked.

Joel's gaze didn't waver. "Then you kill her."

Ellie studied him for a long moment, the weight of the words settling between them. There was no hesitation in his tone, no room for debate. She pondere her options, and realized she had done worse things for less payment.

She glanced down at the invitation once more, tracing the elegant script with her thumb. A masquerade. A grand event filled with nobles, music, and wine. A perfect place for a thief to slip in unnoticed.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Well," she mused, tucking the invitation into the inner pocket of her coat, "guess I'd better find something nice to wear."

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