#mostly because a lot of their relationship drives the plot

[inkher0]

How does Ticcimask work in your story? I don't know if you've talked about it before, or if you're tired of this question, I just wanted to ask due to how there are so many conflicting depictions of the ship.

Depends on what you mean? If you're referring to their ages, Origin is about Tim as a teenager. It'd be weird if it was Marble Hornets, Red Flannel Tim dating 15 year old Toby (STARES LOUDLY), but this is a prequel to MH, and they're roughly the same age. The love-hate dynamic that people associate with Ticcimask works better when they're the same age, imho, and that's always been how I've seen the ship. They're rivals to each other, rather than an adult bullying a child because he's Kind Of Annoying (and mentally disabled, which. Yikes).

In Origin, they're both obsessed with each other, but for completely different reasons, and those reasons change over the narrative as their ideologies shift.

In Tim's eyes, Toby is this captivating, all consuming flame. Toby doesn't languish over what's right and wrong, what makes him a "good boy" or a "bad boy"- he does as he pleases, and demands everyone witness it. He spits in The Operator's face and openly questions the nature of their rearing and their orders, even though that hurts his standing. Though that usually pisses him off, he can't help but find it a bit admirable. Toby is very compelling to Tim, in all aspects, and he can't help but want him around even though he finds him so antagonistic. Toby understands Tim's anger at the world, and- most importantly- he validates it through his actions and reactions. At the same time, though, he challenges Tim intellectually, which very few people do. Kate tells him "don't do bad things", but Toby asks him "why?"

When it comes to how Toby sees Tim... I fear saying too much. I kind of want it to be something you interpret yourself. But I'll say that for however intense Tim views Toby, Toby views Tim three times as intensely. Like, don't ever read Toby's mind when he's thinking about Tim, you will feel compelled to Call Someone (therapist, doctor, a priest, or all three). It's very hard to describe how Toby sees Tim without using some very heavy-handed biblical imagery, because from the start, Toby has seen Tim through the lens of believing The Operator is God. You can infer from there how he might see Tim- sometimes as a messiah, sometimes as Satan, and sometimes as both simultaneously. He wants to be close to that light, but he knows in his gut that there's something deeply Wrong about it.

Despite how they are obviously Aware of each other's dangerous faults and how badly things could go, they still choose to rely on each other. Simply because that, despite everything I said above, they get along horrifically well. When they agree on something, that thing is done with brutal efficiency. They are The Operator's Boys, and they're both his Best of The Best. They complete each other in the worst possible way- they're dangerous for each other, but deadly for everyone else. If things go according to The Operator's plan, they will be exactly as Toby fantasizes: Literal Kings, sitting atop a throne of bodies and ruling the humans on Earth like apex predators.

The thing is... is that really what they want? And are they willing to do what it takes to achieve that?

[minisugakoobies]

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted. 

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem. 

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you. 

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around. 

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around. 

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous? 

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye. 

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago. 

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him. 

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late. 

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs. 

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back. 

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that. 

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You:  It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me? 

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort. 

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little. 

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is. 

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one. 

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance. 

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response. 

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing. 

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man. 

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible. 

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.  

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not? 

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now. 

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide. 

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -  

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge. 

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?” 

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back. 

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands. 

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu. 

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon. 

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it? 

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses. 

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.” 

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close. 

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.  

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?” 

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment. 

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now. 

“I want what you promised me.” 

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.” 

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.” 

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.  

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him. 

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can. 

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.” 

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”  

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips. 

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face. 

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel. 

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.” 

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want. 

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation. 

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now. 

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?” 

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”  

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat. 

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes. 

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.” 

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you. 

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck. 

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly. 

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo. 

“‘Gyu, please.” 

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around. 

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?” 

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.” 

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you. 

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up. 

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements. 

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!” 

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.” 

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids. 

“It’ll be something like this.” 

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.” 

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over. 

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!” 

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you. 

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again. 

“Kiss me.” 

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.” 

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip. 

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.” 

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands. 

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.” 

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture? 

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.” 

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”  

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?” 

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.” 

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?” 

“I might have some ideas.” 

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!” 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[etherrreal]

"an inconvenient attachment"

Pairing: sae x fem!reader Genre: fluff with smut, fwb to lovers, minors dni! Summary: what you and sae have is completely casual— or at least it’s supposed to be. he’s fine with it at first, until he starts to realize how much he actually likes being around you. now he’s starting to wonder if casual is enough. WC: 20k+ (haha, i’m in danger) Warnings: nsfw, some pwp (mostly plot though), alcohol, casual/no strings sex (until it isn’t 😉), car sex, fingering, light choking, reader and sae are in their mid-20s, reader is also incredibly forward and kind of shameless lmao, pro!athlete sae, big time jealousy, misunderstandings, lots of pining but also lots of denial, sae being annoying and bad at feelings but also very much into you A/N: watched bluelock for the first time this past year and immediately fell victim to the itoshi brothers. consider this an ode to my suffering <3 -Dawn

Sae doesn’t really know what the two of you are to each other.

He knows you hate driving in the rain and love reading at the park, just like he knows how you take your coffee and what your voice sounds like when you first wake up in the morning, all sleepy and soft.

He also knows what you look like tangled in the sheets of his bed, just like he knows how to make you fall apart with his mouth and hands and tongue. He takes pleasure in leaving you bleary-eyed and breathless, in watching you grip at his sheets and drag your nails across his skin as you say his name again and again.

But when it comes to your current relationship, to what the two of you actually mean to each other? Sae has no idea. You’ve never bothered to put a label on it. He figures you’ve never felt the need to, even though normally you’re the kind of person who labels everything, from the colorful tabs in your planner to the glass containers in your pantry.

Not that Sae has any room to judge. He hasn’t made much of an effort to define things between you, either. He’s not one for titles or attachments, least of all romantic ones. He never has been, and that’s something he made clear to you from the beginning, long before the two of you ever shared a bed and started whatever the hell this thing is that exists between you now.

If he’s being honest, Sae didn’t really think much of you at first. He remembers meeting you, completely against his will, at a party he never wanted to attend in the first place, one that his teammates insisted on dragging him to.

In the beginning, you were just another face in the crowd, the best friend of Aina, Oliver’s notorious on-again, off-again girlfriend.

Sae never planned on seeing you again, much less actually getting to know you. In fact, he was fully content to forget you completely, but he couldn’t. And it wasn’t because he had a change of heart or because he was particularly interested in you, but because you made it practically impossible to ignore you.

You, with your ridiculous laugh and your know-it-all demeanor and your unreasonably animated way of talking. It’s no surprise that you were an instant hit amongst his teammates. They all took to you right away, captivated by your quick comebacks and witty humor, by your easy confidence and natural charm.

And though Sae will never say it out loud, he could admit, even back then, that he understood the appeal, at least in a general sense. You’re smart and funny, not to mention daring and lively, with the kind of effortless charisma that makes everyone want to be around you.

You laugh at his dry humor and unapologetic bluntness, but you also don’t hesitate to call him out when he’s being a dick. And it doesn’t hurt that you’re completely gorgeous, either, a vision in smooth satin and shimmery lip gloss whenever he sees you on nights when his teammates actually manage to bully him out of his apartment.

Soon you’re everywhere, laughing during game nights at Oliver’s place and rolling your eyes in the background of Shidou’s Instagram stories. Sae doesn’t accept their invitations to go out too often, but when he does, you’re always there, just as much a part of the group as everyone else is— even more than Sae is, most of the time.

You cheer him and the rest of the team on at games, send him new recipes to try and stupid videos he only sometimes replies to.

And inconveniently, inevitably, you start to grow on him.

Then one night, against his better judgment, he offers to drive you home from the bar, and to his surprise, you accept.

Sae’s not entirely sure why he does it. After all, it’s unlike him to inconvenience himself or go out of his way for the sake of others. But then he remembers the cheeky way you were acting with him earlier and decides it’s worth it, if only to see what you’ll do.

There’s always been a certain kind of tension between you and Sae, an unspoken chemistry neither of you has ever been able to replicate with anyone else. He’s never acted on it, of course. He’s never felt the need to, until now.

You’ve been flirting with him even more than usual tonight, brushing your hand against his arm and leaning in close to whisper in his ear. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

Sae has always appreciated how forward you are, how honest. You’re the kind of person who always speaks your mind, who never hesitates to go after what you want. It’s part of what makes him respect you so much.

It’s also why he doesn’t bother to stop you. Why he doesn’t push you away from him, no matter how close you get or how bold your hands become. It does something to him, he realizes, having you touch him so casually. Makes him possessive in a way he never expected he’d be over anyone, least of all you.

Still, he doesn’t take it as anything more than what it is. You’re always like this, all playful and coy, especially after you've had a shot or two. He knows better than to think it means anything. He takes it upon himself to drive you home anyway, the idea of you being so casual and touchy with any of his other teammates leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

You look unfairly beautiful sitting in the passenger seat of his car, all smooth skin and smokey eyes, jacket sliding halfway off your shoulders as you wave your hands around and tell a story he’s only half-listening to. You’re absolutely stunning and therefore annoyingly distracting, not that he’ll ever grant you the satisfaction of telling you that himself.

The lot behind your building is quiet when he pulls his car in, empty. You unbuckle your seatbelt and thank him for driving you home, but make no move to leave.

Sae notices but doesn’t call you out on it, dismissing your gratitude with his usual impassiveness. He also doesn’t stop you when you reach out to touch him. Your fingers brush against his collar, smoothing over the fabric on his shoulder.

He has makeup on his shirt, you tell him. It’s yours, of course, the shade of the smudge an identical match to the color staining your lips. It must’ve happened when you leaned in to talk to him earlier.

Sae isn’t surprised. You’re the only person he lets be that close to him, the only person he wants that close. And right now, you’re smiling like you already know, like you revel in it.

“Sorry about that,” you say, without an ounce of guilt in your voice, dragging your nail over the stain.

Sae watches the way you watch him, the way your eyes drift down to stare at his lips. There’s something wanting and possessive in your gaze, something he thinks has been there for a while now. “No, you’re not.”

“You’re right.” The laugh you give is shameless, your smile brazen as you move your hand from his shoulder to his chest, fingertips skimming against the buttons of his shirt. “I’m not.”

You kiss him, then, a heated and hungry thing as bold and unapologetic as you are. He surprises himself by letting you, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and dragging your bottom lip between his teeth, a calloused hand moving up to cradle your jaw.

Soon you’re kicking off your heels and shrugging off your jacket, tossing it blindly into the backseat and climbing over the center console. You settle into his lap like you belong there, straddling his thighs with your bare knees. He trails his lips along your throat and chest, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your heated skin and pulling down the front of your dress so he can reach more of you.

His hands push the skirt of your dress up and over your hips, palms smoothing over your skin, and you tug at his hair, pressing your body firmly against his. The movement is exactly what you both need, your hips grinding into his lap.

You both groan when the head of his cock catches against your clothed center. You roll your hips into his again, chasing the friction, his grip on your hips turning bruising.

Sae presses a hand between your legs and pulls your underwear to the side, just enough to run a finger along your slit and gather the wetness there. He lets out a strained curse and drags his teeth along your throat when he feels how warm and wanting you already are, all because of him.

That’s all the convincing he needs to fuck you open with his fingers, while you grind yourself down against his hand, making breathy little sounds in his ear that he decides he wants to hear more of. You undo the buttons of his shirt and tear the material open, hands roaming over his chest as much as the limited space will allow.

It’s not long after that you decide you want more, undoing the button of his pants and yanking down his zipper with little restraint. He mutters something about you being an impatient brat under his breath, but he doesn't stop you.

Instead, he lets you pull his leaking cock out and wrap your hand around his shaft. He bites back a groan as you squeeze him at the base and move your hand up and down in slow, even strokes, smearing precum along the length of him.

You surge forward to kiss him again, and it’s all Sae can do to meet you halfway, curling his fingers inside of you and making you gasp against his lips. You cling to his shoulders and whisper into his ear, telling him how good he feels, how badly you want him inside of you— all of him, this time, not just his fingers.

Your words go straight to his already painfully hard cock, making him buck up into your hand and reach out blindly for the condoms he keeps in his car. You end up beating him to it, fumbling for only a moment before pulling one out of your purse and tearing the packet open with your teeth.

You don’t waste any more time after that, rolling the condom down over his length while Sae slips his fingers out of you and plants his hands on either side of your waist. You line him up with your entrance and sink yourself onto him with a gasp, hips pressing flush against his as you moan and dig your nails into his skin. He tightens his grip on your waist and muffles his own moan against your lips, the kiss he presses to your mouth all tongue and teeth.

You ride him, head thrown back and lips parted, while he leans back to watch you with half-lidded eyes, taking in the sight of you fucking yourself on his cock and pushing his hips up to meet yours.

You look absolutely breathtaking, hips rolling and circling as you gasp out his name and tell him how deep he is and how good he’s making you feel. One of his hands presses against your throat while the other squeezes at your hip, helping you lift yourself up and sink back down to take more of him.

With his lips mouthing at your neck and his thumb drifting down to rub circles into your clit, it isn’t long before you find yourself tipping over the edge. He follows you almost immediately after, spurred on by the scrape of your nails against his scalp and the tightening of your walls around him.

You’re both panting when it’s over, foreheads pressed together and hearts racing as you slump against one another and try to catch your breath. You recover faster than he does and press a parting kiss to his lips that feels almost too sweet after what you’ve just done, climbing off his lap and over the console on shaky legs.

You almost slip when you do, his hand shooting out to steady you at the last second. You laugh while he rolls his eyes and tells you to be more careful, keeping his hand on your hip until finally you settle back safely into the passenger seat.

You’re both quiet as you set to work on fixing your clothing and cleaning yourselves up, redoing zippers and clasping buttons in an effort to make yourselves look presentable again.

Sae finds himself grateful for the silence. It gives him the chance to process exactly what’s just happened between you, and —more importantly— to decide what’s going to happen after.

The sex was good, obviously. Better than good. The best he’s had in a while, maybe even the best he’s had ever— though he thinks he’d rather die than be caught saying any of that out loud. He imagines it must’ve been the same for you, if the way you moaned his name and fell apart around him are anything to go by.

Still, Sae knows himself, which is why he knows better than to allow it to mean anything. He doesn’t need a relationship right now, nor does he particularly want one. He likes you well enough, in a way that makes him view you as slightly less irritating than he does everyone else— but wanting you and wanting to be with you are two very different things.

And at this point in his life, Sae doesn’t want to actually be with anyone, not even you. He doesn’t have the time for it, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have the patience.

Sure, he’s dated before, but it was never anything serious. Never anything real. All of his previous relationships —if one could even call them that— were just for show, nothing more than publicity stunts orchestrated by his PR team with models and socialites he’s never really cared about.

Most of them understood the arrangement quite well, knowing it wouldn’t last. Some of them didn’t and tried to make it into something more, but it’s never worked. Sae’s never allowed it. As a result, he’s become an expert at shutting people down, at crushing their hopes of receiving anything more than what he’s willing to give them.

He tells you as much after you’re both dressed again, fully prepared to disappoint you and the hopes you’ve no doubt allowed to build freely inside your head. He’s not cruel enough to say it in a way that hurts you —at least not on purpose— but he wants to be honest. The last thing he needs is for you to get the wrong idea and start thinking that this is going to change anything between you.

“You should know,” he starts, serious and stoic as ever, “I’m not looking for a relationship. The only thing I’m interested in right now is soccer.”

He pauses, bracing himself for your reaction, for the moment when his words finally sink in and you realize that he has no intention of taking this any further. He watches your face carefully, mentally preparing himself for what he knows is going to be the inevitable fallout.

He’s spent enough time with you by now to know you’re not really the crying type, so he’s comfortable with knowing that he at least won’t see any tears. He does, however, expect some swearing on your part, maybe even a little bit of yelling, just enough to let him know that you think he’s an asshole.

To Sae’s surprise, none of that happens. There’s no anger, no confrontation, no fallout. Instead of shouting at him and telling him to go fuck himself, the way he initially expected you to, you smile at him and slip the straps of your dress back up over your shoulders, nodding like this is exactly what you were expecting, like you couldn’t agree more.

“Yeah, I figured as much,” you say, laughing lightly, casually, as you finish readjusting the rest of your clothing. “Your emotional unavailability kind of gave it away. Well, that and your apathy, though I’m starting to think the latter is less of a relationship deterrent and more of just you being yourself.”

You aren’t wrong, of course, but the bluntness of your words still makes him scowl, which in turn just makes you laugh even more.

“Hey, I never said I didn’t like it.” You slip your heels on your feet and lean down to secure the straps, though not before sending him a teasing grin from over your shoulder. “I’ll have you know, emotionally unavailable and apathetic is exactly my type. Helps if they have pretty eyes and great hair, too.”

Predictably, Sae ignores your blatant flirting in favor of rolling his eyes. Still, he doesn’t hesitate to help when he sees you struggling to retrieve your jacket from the backseat, reaching behind him to grab it and offering it to you with ease.

“Seems like an easy way to get yourself hurt,” he deadpans, before you get the chance to thank him.

“You’re such a pessimist, Sae.” You roll your eyes at his response, but the smile you give as you take your jacket from him is grateful and genuine. “My point is, if you’re worried about me reading into things, don’t be. I’m not expecting anything from you. If we’re being honest, I’m not really looking for anything serious right now, either.”

He knows you mean it —you’re too honest not to— but he raises an eyebrow at you, anyway, examining you carefully for even the slightest hint of doubt.

“So you’re really okay with things staying the same between us?”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I wasn’t. But you have my number if you ever want to do this again.”

You gather the rest of your things before leaning over and pressing a quick kiss against his cheek. It’s light and offhanded, free of any pressure or expectations. Then you smile at him, lifting your hand to give a little wave.

“I’ll see you later, Sae.”

You leave his car with that smile still on your face and your purse in your hand. He watches you go, not taking his eyes off of you until you make it inside your building. You don’t turn back to look at him once.

And though he tries not to —though he likes to believe he’s above such baseless, lukewarm desires— he thinks about your offer on the way home.

It doesn’t take him long to make up his mind.

He texts you three days later. The messages are short and to the point —boring, he knows you’d call them— just a simple ’hey’ followed by a blunt ’wanna come over?’ that he regrets sending almost immediately after it goes through, mostly because he knows you’re never going to let him live it down.

You don’t disappoint, replying back a few minutes later with a ’damn already??’ and an ’it was that good huh 😏😌🤪’ that he pointedly ignores. He threatens to block you, you laugh at the message, and less than an hour later, you’re at his door.

This time, Sae’s the one who kisses you first, easing you onto his bed and pushing your thighs apart so he can slot himself between them. His lips trail down your neck, his teeth nipping at your throat. His hands are everywhere, roaming over your body and helping you slip out of your clothes until you’re completely bare beneath him.

He makes you cum twice with his mouth, another time with his fingers— and only then does he finally slide himself into you, hands gripping your thighs and chest pressing into yours.

Practice was cut short today in favor of a press conference Sae couldn’t have cared less about, so he has a lot of pent-up energy, which he immediately sets on using to throw your legs over his shoulders and thoroughly fuck you into his mattress.

You don’t complain about it, either, too lost in the pleasure of it all to scold him for the tight grip he has on your hips or the way he’s nearly folding you in half beneath him. You even make a joke about it afterwards, muttering something about how they should cancel his practices more often.

“But only on the weekends,” you add seriously, trying to catch your breath. “The last thing I need is my co-workers watching me wobble into my office because of it.”

Sae actually laughs, though he tries not to. You beam at the sound, only to end up flipping him off moments later, when you rise on trembling legs in search of your clothes and catch him smirking knowingly at you.

And it’s simple, he thinks, doing this with you. Simple and comfortable and not the least bit complicated, which is exactly how he likes it.

You must feel the same way, because the next time it happens, you’re the one who calls first, inviting him up to your apartment and latching your lips to his neck before he’s even fully through the door.

You never really talk about it, nor do you establish any real boundaries beyond that initial conversation you had that first night in his car, but Sae figures you don’t really need to. It goes without saying that this thing between you is completely casual, just a way to satisfy your physical needs and work off some stress whenever you both need it.

Neither of you wants an actual relationship, but that doesn’t mean you’re opposed to sleeping together every now and then, especially when the sex is as good as it’s been. So you keep at it, meeting up whenever you have some free time and fucking until you’ve both had your fill, all without ever expecting anything more.

Sae doesn’t tell anyone about your arrangement. Neither do you. You both agree it’s easier that way, in the name of keeping things smooth and uncomplicated.

He’s not ashamed of what the two of you are doing —he knows you aren’t, either— but neither one of you wants the headache of having to explain it to the well-intentioned but ultimately chronic meddlers you call your friends. So you keep it to yourselves, treating each other the same way you normally would without any extra consideration or kindness.

You both get really good at it, too, maintaining your composure no matter how many stupid and suggestive comments Shidou and Oliver make about the mystery girl he’s always texting, or how often Aina bugs you to show her a picture of the guy she swears has got you dickmatized.

Sae’s sure they have their suspicions, but he knows that he isn’t among them. As far as everyone else is concerned, you and him are just friends, even if you do have a habit of getting a little handsy whenever you think no one is looking.

It helps that you’ve been shamelessly flirting with him since the day you met, so no one ever bats an eye when they see you brushing your hand against his chest or leaning in close to whisper in his ear. Everyone just assumes that it’s you being your normal, bold and affectionate self, and that Sae —moody, stoic, emotionless Sae— will brush it off and ignore you the way he always does.

They have no idea that as soon as you’re alone, the exact opposite happens. That he’s trailing his lips along your neck and sliding his hands up your skirt, while you lock your legs around his waist and pull him in closer, the way you’ve been doing for weeks now.

Sae’s honestly a little surprised no one’s figured it out yet. More than that, though, he’s shocked that he’s still hooking up with you at all.

It’s not like him to stick with someone for so long, especially without his manager breathing down his neck to keep it up for the publicity. He thought your arrangement would last a week, maybe two weeks, tops— but here you both are, still going nearly two months later, with no signs of stopping anytime soon.

He was so sure he’d be bored of it by now, but he isn’t. He can’t be, not with you. You’re too good at distracting him. You’re even better at making him trust you.

And the more time he spends with you, the more he realizes just how easy it is to be around you.

The thing about Sae is that he’s never really been the kind of person who has a lot of friends. He has his teammates and his manager, his parents and sometimes his brother, but he’s never had someone who wasn’t obligated to be around him. Never someone who didn’t expect anything of him.

You, though— you spend time with him on purpose, not because of anything he can give you. Even if this thing between you ends tomorrow, Sae knows it wouldn’t change anything.

You’d still be there, still without expecting anything, because that’s just who you are. Because for some odd reason, you actually like being around him, despite his attitude and his indifference, despite all the things his teammates and the media are always giving him shit for.

He thinks you’ve always liked being around him, even before you started sleeping together. He knows he doesn’t make it easy, but you’re patient with him despite that, giving him space when he needs it and pushing him when he doesn’t.

And he’ll never say it out loud, but the truth is, he likes being around you, too. Almost enough to make him forget that this thing you have is only temporary.

Almost.

The first time you stay the night happens a week later.

You’re both in his bed, all bare skin and tangled sheets as you come down from your respective highs and try to catch your breath. Outside his penthouse, the rain drones on, quieting the city below you into a nearly imperceptible hum.

It’s well past midnight, so late that it’s early, and sure, Sae might be an asshole— but he’s not cruel enough to make you drive home in the rain, especially when he knows how much you hate it.

“You can sleep here if you want,” he says, without thinking much of it, right as you sit up to start looking for your clothes.

Understandably, the offer catches you off guard. Even in the dark, Sae can see the way you turn back and blink owlishly at him, eyebrows raised, like it’s the last thing you expected him to say.

It’s kind of annoying, honestly, the way you’re looking at him right now. He knows he’s far from being the most considerate person in your life, but the way you’re gawking at him like he’s grown a second head feels a little dramatic.

Not that he can really blame you for being surprised. You’ve been hooking up almost daily for two months now, but not once during that time have either of you ever spent the night at the other’s place.

Something about it feels different. More intimate, somehow, like it’s crossing a line that’s supposed to be there, if only the two of you had bothered to draw it in the first place.

Sae realizes it at the same time you do and finds himself regretting making the offer at all. He’s accepted the fact that the two of you are friends —albeit begrudgingly— but the last thing he wants is for you to think he meant anything by it.

“Or don’t,” he adds quickly, careful to keep his tone as blank and detached as possible. “It’s up to you. I don’t really care either way.”

From the corner of his eye, he watches you spare a glance at the window. The rain is still going, pouring unforgivingly against the glass, and it only seems to be getting worse.

The rumble of thunder that follows shortly after is enough to convince you to accept his offer. You shrug, murmuring a quiet thanks before laying back down and making yourself comfortable next to him.

Predictably, he says nothing in response to your gratitude. He moves over to give you some space and lets you tuck yourself back under the blanket, shutting his eyes as he settles onto his back.

When he feels your gaze on him moments later, he frowns, cracking an eye open to look at you. Sure enough, you’re staring right at him, a knowing, borderline smug smile on your face that lets him know you’re going to be completely insufferable about this.

“Don’t,” he warns, before you can even get a word out.

You have the audacity to look offended. “Wha— I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“Didn’t have to. Your face is saying plenty.”

He throws an arm over his eyes and does his best to ignore you, hoping you’ll get bored enough with his inattention to let the whole thing go.

(You don’t, of course, but he supposes you wouldn’t be you if you did.)

In the end, it’s Sae who gives in first, uncovering his eyes against his better judgment and turning to face you with a scowl.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you’re quick to reply, even as that smug little smile of yours curls into a grin. “I’m just— I’m surprised you offered to let me stay, is all. It’s not what I was expecting.”

“Yeah, well, it was either that or wake up tomorrow to a ten-minute voice note complaining about how shitty your drive home was and how close you were to death.” He turns on his side, shifting so he can face you fully. “I figured if I was going to be annoyed anyway, I might as well get it out of the way now.”

That earns him a smack to the shoulder, along with a scowl meant to convey how unamused you are with his words. He can only hope you’re too busy rolling your eyes to catch the way the corners of his lips twitch upwards, barely suppressing a smile.

“You’re a dick. And for the record, if I did decide to grace you with one of my exciting and wonderfully detailed voice notes, it would’ve been five, maybe six minutes, max.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not believing you, and you sigh in defeat, relenting.

“Okay, fine, six and a half, but can you blame me? I hate driving in the rain. It’s scary and disorienting, and I always get paranoid that I’m gonna—”

“Spin out and end up on the side of the road,” Sae says, at the exact same time you do, making your eyes widen. “I know. I remember.”

And the crazy part is, he does. He remembers because he knows you, probably better than he knows anybody else, and it’s only now when he’s lying here with you, practically nose-to-nose in the dark, that he realizes just how much.

He’s not sure how or when it happened, but it did. And now, he knows you. He really, really knows you, enough to accept your good-natured teasing and playful smugness, enough to consider your comfort and offer you a place in his bed.

And honestly? He has no idea how the hell he’s supposed to feel about that, so he ignores it entirely, the same way he ignored how his stomach fluttered and his chest warmed when you showed up with a bag of groceries and made him dinner earlier, for no discernable reason other than the fact that you wanted to spend time with him.

His only consolation is that you seem to be as surprised by it as he is. He watches as you blink at him in the dark, wide-eyed and a little stunned, like you’re seeing him for the first time.

Then you smile at him, soft and sweet, and Sae feels something in his stomach shift all over again, something warm and unfamiliar he can’t name and honestly doesn’t think he wants to.

“And here I thought sleepovers were against our unofficial rules,” you tease, nudging his leg with your own. “You getting soft on me, Itoshi?”

“You wish,” he denies, scoffing for good measure. “This is a one-time thing. I’ll be back to my usual asshole self in the morning.”

“Bummer.” You nuzzle your face into the pillow beneath your head, stifling a yawn that betrays how tired you really are. “I kind of like you like this.”

“You like me naked and annoyed?”

“No, dummy. I meant sweet and concerned. It’s a surprisingly good look on you. A rare one, but a good one.” You close your eyes, lips curling into a playful smile. “Naked’s a pretty close second, though.”

In response, he flicks your forehead with his thumb and forefinger. You make a noise of protest but keep your eyes shut, swatting blindly at his hand, and for that, he finds himself grateful. He doesn’t think he’ll ever live it down if you catch the way his lips twitch into a smile.

“Just shut up and go to sleep, you little pervert.”

For once, you actually listen to him, bidding him a drowsy “goodnight” and knocking out almost immediately after. He falls asleep not long after you do, drifting off to the sound of your steady breathing and the patter of midnight rain.

Sae wakes before you the next morning, and the first thing he notices is how much closer you are to him now than when you fell asleep.

He’s not sure how it happened, but it seems that somehow over the course of the night, you’ve managed to curl yourself into his side. Now, your head is resting comfortably on his chest, your hand splayed against the muscles of his abdomen.

Sae wishes he could blame the new and compromising position solely on you, but sadly he can’t. At least not when he looks down and finds that his own traitorous arm has wrapped itself around your waist to keep you pressed against him, one of his legs tangled with yours.

It’s cuddly and intimate and most definitely against the unofficial rules of your arrangement, but still, he can’t find it in himself to wake you. He doesn’t shove you off, either, even though he knows he should, half because he thinks he’d rather die than talk to you about this and half because he doesn’t hate it nearly as much as he thought it would.

You’re pretty like this, Sae thinks distantly, completely unprovoked. You always are, but you’re softer when you’re asleep, more relaxed. It’s different from the version of you he’s used to, the one that’s loud and a little bit unruly, who talks a mile a minute and knocks back caffeine like it’s water because she always has a million different things to do.

He never imagined he’d get the chance to see you like this, all delicate and vulnerable. He never imagined he would want to, or that looking at you would make him feel this way, warm and fond and ridiculous. Human, too, in the way he so often likes to forget he is.

He spends longer than he should taking in the curve of your lips, the slope of your cheek. He untangles himself from you as carefully as he can manage and forces himself out of bed before he does something really stupid, like brush your hair out of your face or swipe his thumb against your cheek.

Sae takes a cold shower and runs through what’s left of his morning routine, willing all the strange thoughts he’s having about you to disappear.

It works for the most part, until you come padding into the kitchen and join him at the counter like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You’re bare-faced and sleepy, dressed in one of his t-shirts and the sweatpants he let you borrow last night, glasses perched on the bridge of your nose and your hair pulled up and away from your face. He thinks fleetingly that it’s the cutest you’ve ever looked, which is not only ridiculous but also so unlike him that he has to resist the urge to vomit right then and there.

Somehow he manages, handing you a cup of steaming coffee as soon as you approach. You take it from him without hesitation, accepting the drink with a grateful smile and murmuring a quiet good morning.

If you’re surprised by the gesture, you don’t show it, too busy sipping gingerly at your coffee and letting it wake you up. Then you’re launching into your usual upbeat chatter, this time about your job and the co-worker who you swear you’re one “as per my last email” away from fist-fighting in the conference room.

It’s normal enough to distract him, allowing him to push away the memory of how you woke up this morning and all the sappy shit he’s been thinking about you as a result.

He almost forgets about it entirely, until later that night when he slips into bed and catches the scent of your shampoo on his pillow.

That’s when his mind begins to drift, completely against his will. He starts remembering all sorts of unwelcome things, like the weight of you in his arms, the curve of your lashes against your cheek, how tempted he was to brush your hair out of your face and pull you closer—

Sae huffs and flips the pillow over, somewhere between confused and annoyed, though whether it’s with you or himself, he isn’t sure.

He turns around and closes his eyes, forcing himself to sleep, but the thought of you lingers.

It’s Aina —and, by default, Oliver— who finds out first.

It happens on a Saturday morning, nearly four months into your arrangement with Sae. Aina shows up at your apartment completely unannounced, with a tray of coffee and a surprisingly dutiful Oliver in tow, carrying the rest of the bags. (Apparently, it’s an on-week for them.)

They mean to surprise you with breakfast, hoping to convince you over french toast and scrambled eggs to put a pause on your ‘no relationships allowed’ policy and agree to a double date with one of his teammates.

One could only imagine their surprise when they find you standing in your entryway with an entirely different teammate, one who apparently already has access to sleepover privileges. And with Sae in his clothes from the night before and you in your robe and absolutely nothing else, it isn’t hard for them to put two and two together and realize what you’ve been up to.

The silence that follows their discovery is the loudest Sae thinks he’s ever heard in his life. There’s an uncomfortably long moment where the four of you just stand there and stare at each other, not saying a single word.

Aina is the first to react, letting out an Oscar-worthy gasp loud enough to alert your neighbors. Her eyes go wide, jaw dropping as her gaze jumps back and forth between you and Sae, like her brain can’t fully make sense of what she’s seeing.

“Holy shit.”

Oliver, on the other hand, appears to be having the time of his life, leering at the two of you with the largest and most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen on his face, like this is the best news he’s heard all week.

“No fucking way,” he says, two-toned eyes darting between you and Sae wickedly, before settling on you once more. “You bagged Itoshi?”

It’s a pretty spot-on assumption, Sae thinks, even if the way Oliver says it is stupid and irritating as hell. You are the one who approached him first, as well as the one who initiated things that first night you slept together. Not that it’s anyone else’s business, anyway, least of all nosy-ass Oliver’s.

You and Sae exchange glances, a silent conversation passing between you. It’s a testament to how familiar you’ve grown with one another over the past few months, where just one look is enough for the two of you to get an idea of what the other is thinking.

Having two of the loudest people you know find out you’ve been sleeping together isn’t ideal —neither Aina nor Oliver is exactly known for their subtlety— but it’s not the end of the world.

The two of you agreed to keep things quiet because you wanted your privacy, not because you’re ashamed of what you’ve been doing, so telling them won’t change much, as long as they don’t make it a big deal.

And besides, it’s not like you’re in any position to deny it, not when they’ve caught you red-handed.

Still, Aina and Oliver are more your friends than they are Sae’s, so he has no problem with you taking the lead on this one, which he attempts to communicate with a subtle nod of his head.

Thankfully, you seem to understand exactly what he means, clearing your throat and drawing all eyes back to you.

You pointedly ignore Oliver and his devilish smirk in favor of focusing on your best friend, who seems to be short-circuiting in light of the new information that’s been presented to her today. You take it all in stride, wielding that same easy confidence that Sae’s always admired in you, and nod at the tray she’s carrying.

“Is that iced coffee for me?”

Aina, for her part, still appears to be at a loss for words, but she makes an effort to answer you all the same, a confused but otherwise affirmative sound leaving her lips in response. You smile, reaching out to pluck the drink from its tray.

“Cool. Thanks.” You take a sip of your coffee before returning your attention to the midfielder beside you, offering him a warm smile and a parting wave. “Bye, Sae.”

It’s an easy out, of course, one that Sae is quick to accept, nodding at you and the stunned couple across from you before taking his leave.

The last thing he hears before your door shuts is the sound of Aina’s voice, baffled and utterly disbelieving as it rings out into your apartment.

“You’ve been fucking Itoshi Sae?!”

Her astonishment is a sentiment that carries over into the texts she sends you that same night, complete with various emojis and an assortment of reaction images she hopes will reflect her lingering shock. Oliver isn’t far behind her, though the texts he sends you are more teasing than anything else.

Still, they’re both strangely supportive about the whole thing. They even promise to keep what they’ve learned to themselves, though they still can’t quite believe it.

You show the texts to Sae the next time you’re at his place, letting him read them over your shoulder as the two of you lounge together in his bed, your back against his chest and his arm wound loosely around your waist.

The reaction images are sadly lost on him —Sae, as it turns out, really only cares about soccer, which means he has the social media literacy of a 70-year-old man— but he’s able to catch the gist.

You laugh about it together anyway, though for him it’s more of a little hum, followed by that tiny amused smirk you’re seeing more and more of every day.

“Did they seriously congratulate you for sleeping with me?”

“Yup. It’s a big deal, according to them. They’re both very proud of me.” You lock your phone and set it gently on his nightstand, twisting in his arms to face him with a teasing grin. “Apparently, I’m hooking up with the hottest midfielder in the league.”

He brushes off the comment at first, the way he seems to do with all of your obvious flirting, but he doesn’t stop you when you lift your leg and hike it over his hip.

And maybe it’s because he’s tired from practice, or maybe it’s because being around you relaxes him in a way he isn’t used to— but he ends up pulling you closer, palm smoothing over your skin and tracing a path up your leg.

“Well,” he mutters, hand squeezing appreciatively at your thigh, “it’s not like they’re wrong.”

“I dunno…” You let your voice trail off, fingertips skimming down his chest as you pretend to think about it. “I mean, ‘hottest midfielder’ is a really big title, and from what I’ve seen, your brother’s pretty hot, too.”

“My brother’s a striker, dumbass.”

“Even better. Think you can put in a good word for me?”

He shoots you a flat look, unimpressed by your joke, while you grin at him and crack up like you're the funniest person in the world. You’re still laughing when he reaches behind his head for a pillow and smacks you right in the face with it, squeaking out a “hey, wait, I’m kidding— I’m kidding!” between bursts of laughter.

And it’s ridiculous, Sae thinks, how easily the sound of your laugh softens him, how quickly it makes him forget about ever being annoyed. It shouldn’t, but it does, and right now he’s trying very hard not to think about what that might mean.

So he pushes it down and ignores it, the same way he’s forced himself to ignore how comfortable he’s gotten with you these past few months, hooking his hand behind your knee and rolling you both over so you’re laying on your back with him hovering above you.

He kisses you, then, deep and wanting in the way he knows you like, the one that leaves you breathless, half to distract himself and half because he wants to. You welcome him eagerly the way you always do, hooking your arms around his neck and tangling your fingers in his hair in an effort to bring him closer to you.

He breaks the kiss before it can go any further, drawing back just enough so that his lips are hovering above your own. You open your eyes, pupils blown out with desire, blinking at him expectantly as you wait for him to kiss you again.

When he doesn’t, you move for him, leaning up to press your lips back against his. He moves just out of reach at the last second, leaving you with a crease in your forehead and a pout on your lips that’s almost cute enough for him to give you what you want. Almost.

But Sae, as you’ve both learned, has a bit of a possessive streak. And while he’s already forgiven you for your earlier teasing, he hasn’t forgotten. And he intends, in true egoist fashion, to have the last word, even if it means having to stave off his own desires for a bit.

“You still interested in my brother?” he asks, and it’s pointed, goading. Probably the closest he’ll get to admitting how utterly disinterested he is in sharing you with anyone else.

“Wait, you have a brother?” You widen your eyes and pretend to be shocked, batting your lashes innocently before shaking your head. “Never heard of him.”

“Idiot,” he tells you, quiet, fond. Affectionate, too, if you’d listen closely enough. If he’d let you.

You merely laugh in response, bright and airy, before wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him down to you. This time, he doesn’t pull away, leaning down to kiss you and feeling your smile against his lips.

It’s not long after that your kisses turn heated and wanting, his tongue and lips tracing a path down your neck and over your breasts. He takes one nipple into his mouth and rolls the other between his thumb and index finger, your nails digging into his back as you moan, pretty and breathless into his ear.

One of the perks of your arrangement lasting so long is that it’s made Sae somewhat of an expert at taking you apart. He knows exactly how to make you feel good, knows your body and all of its little tells, all the ways you like to be touched.

It doesn’t take much for him to have you desperate and keening, just his tongue at your clit and his fingers deep in your cunt, curling against the spot that makes your eyes roll back.

Soon you’re pulling at his hair, your arousal dripping down his wrist and chin as you whine at him to fuck you, all trembling thighs and breathy whimpers. He obliges, half because you’re practically begging for it and half because he wants you so much, it’s starting to make him dizzy.

It’s not always like this. Most nights Sae prefers taking his time with you. He gets off on seeing how needy you get, how much he can make you want him. You never beg for anything, never want for anything from anyone else until you’re here, desperate and panting beneath him.

He likes seeing you that way. He likes being the one you seek out to give it to you even more.

Tonight, though, it’s different. He’s not sure what triggered it, but suddenly he can’t stop touching you, can’t stop thinking about you and how much he wants you. He’s always attentive, but right now he feels greedy, impatient. Wild in a way he isn’t used to. He kisses you, and it’s hungry, deliberate, like he has something to prove.

He helps you to your knees and fucks you with his hands at your hips and his chest at your back, hard and deep the way he knows you like. He makes you cum with your cheek pressed into the mattress and your hands digging into the sheets, and then he flips you over and pushes your knees to your chest, sliding back into you.

He makes you cum like that, too, with his name on your lips and your hands laced with his own, pinned above your head— once, twice more until he’s had his fill and begins chasing his own release, his face pressed against your neck as he finally lets go and falls apart inside of you.

You shower together afterwards, all slow kisses and languid touches as you stand beneath the warmth of his stupidly expensive shower head. It’s softer than it should be, too soft to be considered casual.

Sae knows it, too, just like he knows he should quit while he’s ahead and pull away from you before it’s too late, but he can’t, not when the scrape of your nails against his scalp as you lave shampoo through his hair feels as good as it does.

You exit the shower looking clean and refreshed, hair damp and skin glowing as you towel yourself off. You smell just like him, the scent of his body wash clinging to your skin.

It does something stupid to his brain, knowing that. Makes his ears red and his heart race in a way he immediately tries to bury. For some reason, this time it’s harder to do.

You get dressed in his bedroom and pack your bag. You tell him you have a big meeting at work tomorrow, so you can’t spend the night. You stay for dinner anyway, letting him treat you to takeout from your favorite restaurant.

The two of you sit on his couch and enjoy your meal together. As usual, you’re the one who provides most of the conversation, Sae preferring to nod along and listen, interjecting every now and then with a surprisingly thoughtful question or a sly comment that has you elbowing him in the side.

With takeout boxes littering his coffee table and a movie you’ve both already seen playing idly in the background, his apartment feels more lived in now than it ever has before, the way it always does whenever you come over. Sae does his very best to ignore how normal it all seems, how easily your knee presses against his as you sit beside him on the couch.

When it’s time for you to leave, he walks you to the door. You thank him again for dinner and smile when he brushes you off, reminding you to text him when you get home.

Then you kiss him goodbye and he lets you, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like it isn’t a big deal, even though you both know it is.

And though he knows he shouldn’t, though he knows he’s better off pushing it down and ignoring it, the way he’s gotten so good at lately— he thinks about it for the rest of the night.

Things get a little blurrier after that.

It starts slowly, at first. An extra toothbrush by his sink, your hair ties on his nightstand. Little pieces of you scattered across his apartment that reveal just how intertwined your lives have become, even if neither of you wants to admit it.

He gets into the habit of picking you up from work. Starts showing up at your door with a bottle of wine and your favorite comfort snacks whenever he knows you’ve had a shitty week. There’s a shelf in his bathroom set aside just for you, stocked with moisturizer, cleanser, and face masks he lets you slather on his skin every now and then, on nights when he’s feeling particularly indulgent.

Your place is just as bad, if not worse. There’s protein powder in your pantry now, his hoodies hung up comfortably in your closet.

You drive him to practice when you have some free time and send him voice notes when you don’t, ones he makes a fuss about but always listens to. And whenever he has a game, you’re the first person who Facetimes him in the morning, wishing him luck and letting him know how excited you are to watch him win.

These days, you’re together more often than you’re apart. Sometimes he invites you over, and you don’t even have sex at all— you just hang out in his apartment and tell him about your day, resting your feet in his lap while his hands roam up and down your calves, and it feels like enough. Having you there feels like enough.

It gets to the point that whenever Shidou or Oliver want to reach him, they call you instead, knowing that Sae will be with you, the way he always seems to be now. It’s so humbling that for a single, horrifying moment, he considers cutting you off completely.

But Sae knows, even before the thought forms in his mind, that he won’t be able to go through with it. You’re too important to him now, too familiar. You’re his best friend, and as confusing and annoying as his thoughts about you have become, he can’t stay away from you.

He doesn’t even realize how bad he’s got it until another two months later, on the night of your birthday, when a conversation with Oliver forces him to confront the feelings he’s usually a lot better at ignoring.

The evening itself starts off normally enough. Sae spends most of it on the field with his team, in preparation for a rivalry game that’s less than a week away. The other players leave as soon as their coach dismisses them, eager to hit the showers and get some rest, but Sae stays behind for some extra practice.

He’s still at it by the time Oliver returns from the locker room. The centerback looks surprised to see that Sae’s still there, but he doesn’t hesitate to approach, joining his teammate out on the pitch.

“Figures you’d be the last one on the field,” Oliver says, greeting him with his signature sleazy smile. “You trying to make the rest of us look bad, Itoshi?”

Sae barely spares him a glance, choosing instead to focus on the row of soccer balls lined up at his feet. “I’ve never had to try to do that.”

Anyone else would be insulted, but Oliver just laughs, too used to Sae’s attitude to take it personally. “Why’re you still out here, anyway? It’s your girl’s birthday tonight. Shouldn’t you be back at your place getting ready?”

You’re not his girl, obviously, but correcting Oliver would be more trouble than it’s worth, so Sae doesn’t bother. “Why would I do that?”

“Oh, come on, man. No one’s that much of an asshole, not even you. Aren’t you coming to her party?”

Sae knows all about your party, of course. You invited him a while ago, though you made it clear it was a no pressure invitation. You knew he had that game coming up and that parties —especially the over the top and extravagant kind planned by Aina— aren’t really his thing, so you’d understand if he didn’t attend.

You’ve always been like that. Always more considerate than he or anyone else deserves. He picked up a present for you anyway, a simple necklace with a diamond sun pendant that made him think of you.

He planned to give it to you next week. Figured it would more than make up for his absence tonight, especially when he knows you’ll be busy with your friends. He’ll be shocked if you even notice he isn’t there, which is why he doesn’t feel the least bit guilty about sitting this one out.

“I’m not going,” Sae states plainly, kicking the ball at his feet and watching it land in the goal. “She said I didn’t have to.”

“Well yeah, that sounds like her, but don’t you want to? It’d be a fun way to surprise her,” Oliver points out, as if Sae really needs the reminder. “Hell, even I’m going, and she only tolerates me.”

“She knows I’m busy.” Another kick, another goal. Sae lifts the bottom of his shirt and wipes at the sweat on his face, unmoved. “She’ll be fine.”

“Damn.” Oliver whistles and crosses his arms over his chest, somewhere between incredulous and impressed. “And here I thought the two of you were finally getting serious. Shidou’ll be thrilled you’re back on the market. Adrian, too— though for different reasons.”

That catches Sae’s attention. He pauses before his next kick and shifts his gaze to where Oliver stands, narrowing his eyes.

He isn’t sure what his teammate is suggesting here, but he already doesn’t like it.

“Am I supposed to care about who that is?”

“You tell me. See, from what I hear, he’s your girl’s— my bad, I mean your not-girl’s ex. Apparently they ended on pretty good terms. Aina told me he’ll be there tonight, along with the rest of their friends.”

Oliver waits for a moment, letting his words sink in, before he grins knowingly, mismatched eyes smug and goading.

“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t care, huh?”

Sae feels himself frown, eyes narrowing into a glare as something heavy and bitter settles over his chest. There’s a sinking feeling in his gut, too, one that makes his stomach twist with discomfort.

You’ve never mentioned Adrian before. You’ve never mentioned any of your exes before, at least not to Sae, and why would you?

Contrary to popular belief, Sae’s not your boyfriend. He’s not even someone you’re officially dating. He’s just a friend you fuck regularly and hang out with after, even if it has been going on for way too long to be considered casual.

The point is, who you choose to spend your time with, romantically or otherwise, is none of his business, because you never agreed to be exclusive. And it’s not like he cares if you’re seeing other people, anyway, because he doesn’t. He doesn’t care.

He’s just a little annoyed by it, is all. Just a little irritated by the fact that Oliver would waste his time by bringing it up now, even though he knows Sae has more important things on his mind, like the upcoming game everyone else seems to be forgetting about.

That’s what Sae tells himself, anyway. What he reminds himself of even after Oliver says goodbye and heads off to get ready, leaving him alone on the pitch with nothing but his thoughts.

He repeats it inside of his head, over and over again, telling himself that it doesn’t matter, that he doesn’t care— even as the next ball he kicks misses, ricocheting off the goalpost.

So what if you’re seeing the ex you never mentioned tonight? And so what if the two of you ended on good enough terms for you to feel comfortable inviting him to your party? It’s your birthday, and you’re allowed to spend it with whoever you want.

Sae knows that, just like he knows you don’t owe him anything, least of all an explanation. And he doesn’t care— he doesn’t. He shouldn’t, because if he did, well— then that would mean he cares about you, maybe even has actual feelings for you, and that just wouldn’t make any sense, would it?

Because Sae doesn’t do this kind of thing. He doesn’t do feelings, or relationships, or anything else that puts him at risk of being vulnerable. He isn’t made for it. He never has been.

But then he thinks of you. Of your smile and your enthusiasm, of your quick comebacks and your laugh that turns into a snort whenever you think something is especially funny.

He thinks about the first time you spent the night at his place. He remembers waking up with you after and how easy it felt to hold you, how right.

You are thoughtful in a way that Sae is not, light-hearted and optimistic in a way he knows he’ll never be. You’re smart, too, smarter than anyone else he knows and more sensitive than you like to admit.

You’re stubborn to a fault, you hate admitting when you’re wrong, and you wouldn’t know how to relax even if someone paid you— but Sae can’t think of anything he’d like to do more than spend his time trying to keep up with you.

It hits him, then. The truth he’s spent the past few months trying to deny. All those sappy thoughts he’s had about you, the comfort and ease that settle over him whenever he’s around you— it’s not just because he likes spending time with you, or because he considers you a close friend.

It’s because he has feelings for you. Real, genuine feelings that he can’t ignore, at least not anymore.

It’s why hearing about your ex distracts him enough to make him miss the goal. Why the thought of you with someone else makes him feel sick to his stomach. And as much as Sae hates being vulnerable and honest about his feelings, he thinks he hates the idea of you cozying up to your ex even more.

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do about it yet, or what he’s going to say to you— but what he does know is that he can’t do it here, so he picks up his bag and leaves the field.

An hour later, he’s in his car and driving up to the lounge where Aina’s hosting your party, freshly showered and handing his keys over to the valet. The necklace he picked out for you rests inside the pocket of his jacket, tucked securely against his side.

It’ll pair nicely with his confession, he thinks, if he can find the words. If his logic will allow it.

Inside the lounge, it doesn’t take him long to find you. You’re exactly where he thought you’d be, smack dab in the middle of the dance floor, swaying your hips and singing your heart out with Aina and the rest of your friends at your side.

You look incredible, all smooth skin and glittery eyes, dressed in something soft and lacey he can’t wait to help you out of. You’ve always been beautiful, but here beneath the warm lights with your hair framing your face and your lips curled into that alluring smile, you’re easily the most stunning thing he’s ever seen.

Sae spends longer than he probably should just looking at you, watching you laugh and dance out on the floor, spurred on by the music and the enthusiastic cheers of your friends. He finds himself smiling before he can really help it, tender and fond in the way only you ever seem to make him.

You do a bit of a double take when you spot him, craning your neck past Aina’s head to get a better view. He sends you a short nod as a form of greeting, and you return it with an excited wave of your own, excusing yourself from your friends to join him where he stands at the edge of the crowd.

You smile as you approach, a little breathless from all the dancing, but still so beautiful. You look happy that he’s here, but you’re surprised, too, eyes wide, like he’s the last person you expected to see.

“Sae? What are you doing here?”

It’s a fair question, considering the fact that the last time you spoke, he told you he couldn’t make it, but he raises an eyebrow anyway, like he can’t believe you’d ask. “You invited me, remember?”

“Well, yeah, I did, but I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” you say honestly, laughing a little. “I thought you were busy.”

“I was. Now I’m not.” When your eyes widen even more, your surprise giving way to disbelief, Sae’s eyebrows furrow. “Is it really that big of a deal?”

“That you’re choosing to spend your free time surrounded by everyone I know getting drunk off their asses? Kind of, yeah.” You reach out and smooth your hands over his chest, tugging at the lapels of his jacket to tease him. “I didn’t realize you cared so much.”

And Sae, too sure of his feelings to deny it, but too stubborn to agree, merely sighs, though he does nothing to move your hands away. “Look, if you want me to leave—”

“And rob me and the rest of my friends of the opportunity to ogle you in a button-down? On my birthday?” You put a hand over your heart and shake your head, looking scandalized. “That’s so disrespectful, not to mention selfish. I’m honestly offended that you even suggested it.”

He rolls his eyes, muttering something about you being the most dramatic person in the world, and you start to laugh, lips curling into that lovely little smile that lately he can’t stop thinking about.

Then you take his hand, sliding your fingers through his in a way that feels a lot more significant now that he knows he has feelings for you, and Sae feels something in his chest shift all over again, his pulse quickening beneath his skin.

“Come on,” you tell him, tugging on his hand to guide him forward, completely unaware of the effect you have on him. “I’ll get you a drink.”

You lead him to the bar and prop yourself up on one of the stools. Sae takes a seat beside you and watches as you order two cocktails— something simple for him and something sweet for yourself. The bartender makes quick work of your drinks, setting them down in front of you in record time and leaving you and Sae to chat.

“How was practice?”

“Same as always. How’s your party?”

“It’s been a lot of fun, actually. Aina really outdid herself. I’m thankful, even if it is forcing me to accept the sad reality that I’m basically a grandma now.” You let out a wistful sigh, stirring your drink with your straw. “When I was in college, I used to knock back tequila like it was water. Now it just kind of burns.”

That has him letting out an actual laugh, quiet but genuine, though he attempts to cover it up by reaching for his drink. You notice anyway and beam at the sound, unreasonably pleased with yourself, the way you always are whenever you manage to make him laugh.

He thinks of telling you that you’re the only one who can, the only person he’s ever felt comfortable enough around to do so. But the bar is rowdy and the music’s too loud, so he keeps it to himself, taking a sip of his drink and watching you do the same.

You chat for a while longer, catching each other up on all that you’ve missed in the week since you last saw one another. He tells you about the trip he took to the beach and the clothing sponsorship his manager won’t shut up about, and you tell him about the new pastry shop you tried and the comically large fruit bouquet your parents had delivered to your doorstep this morning.

And it’s easy, Sae thinks, talking to you like this. He’s never been a fan of parties, but sitting here with you, listening to your voice and hearing you laugh, it isn’t so bad.

He spent most of the drive here thinking of you and coming to terms with his feelings for you. These past few months have been filled with nothing but denial on his part, with Sae doing everything in his power to convince himself that he only saw you as the friend he was casually hooking up with, despite every one of his thoughts and actions proving otherwise.

But on the drive here, when he finally sat down to think about it, he found that what he feels for you was strangely easy for him to accept, despite the initial shock of it all.

Sae’s never been one for romance or relationships. He’s never imagined that’d be something he’d want, but looking at you now and wanting you the way he does, he knows it’s true. If he has to have feelings for anyone, he figures it might as well be you.

You, with all your sarcasm and your compassion and that soft little smile he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of.

He’s glad that it’s you.

If Sae were softer, more sensitive like Rin, he’d tell you. If he were better with words, if he knew what to say or where to start, he’d grab your hand and take you somewhere quiet and romantic, and then he’d tell you the truth. He’d tell you everything, all about the way you make him feel and all the parts of himself you make him want to give you.

But Sae isn’t like that. And while normally he wouldn’t hesitate to go after what he wants, he’s not going to risk ruining your birthday or the friendship you’ve built by telling you about the feelings he’s only now realizing he has, especially when he has no idea how to put them into words.

So he doesn’t.

He just listens to the sound of your voice and keeps his feelings to himself, pretending that absolutely nothing has changed even when it’s obvious that everything has.

Eventually, Aina and the rest of your girlfriends show up at the bar to steal you away. They’re shouting something about birthday pictures and ass-shaking that Sae only half-understands, but he doesn’t fight them on it. He knows how excited you are to spend tonight celebrating and letting loose with your friends, so he lets them whisk you away, nodding when you promise to catch up with him later.

Shidou and Oliver show up to harass him the second you and your friends are gone. They try to bully him into taking shots with them, but when that doesn’t work, they settle for setting him up with another drink instead. Then they each sling an arm around his shoulders and herd him over to the couches, where a handful of their other teammates are waiting.

The next time Sae sees you, you're back on the dance floor with your friends. He recognizes most of them, like Aina and Eri, Kenta and Misaki. The only stranger is the man standing behind you, the one Sae immediately decides he doesn’t like.

That’s when Sae notices how close this guy is to you and how low his hands are on your waist. All of a sudden, ignoring his feelings for you becomes a lot harder to do, especially now, when he’s almost positive that you’re dancing with your ex.

Sae doesn’t actually know that the man you’re dancing with is Adrian, of course. He’s too far away to hear what’s being said or to catch any names, but with how comfortable this guy seems to be with touching you, it isn’t hard to guess. He’s lean and broad-shouldered, too, with bright green eyes and silky dark hair, and well— you did say you have a type.

And when you glance over your shoulder to look at him, instead of being disgusted and telling him to get the fuck away from you, the way Sae is hoping you will, you smile. You actually fucking smile, accepting the bastard’s outstretched hand and letting him spin you around, like it’s normal, like you’re used to it. Like it’s something the two of you have done a million times before.

Quite frankly, it makes Sae want to fucking vomit.

It bothers him more than he cares to admit, watching you dance with Adrian and seeing how happy you look, how easily you welcome your ex-boyfriend’s touch. You aren’t even doing anything particularly scandalous, just laughing and letting him twirl you around, but seeing it happen still makes Sae’s stomach churn and his chest ache in a way he knows can’t be normal.

When the song changes, Aina ushers you and the rest of your group back towards the bar, ending your little stint on the dance floor. Sae finds himself grateful for the interruption, until he realizes that all it’s done is provide Adrian with the opportunity to get even closer to you, nestling himself between you and Eri.

Aina stands on your other side and waves down the bartender, but all Sae can focus on is the arm Adrian has wrapped around your shoulders, the way he leans in close and whispers in your ear.

Immediately, Sae decides he can’t watch anymore, not unless he actually wants to throw up. So instead of sticking around to see what happens next, he stands up and walks away, before the tension in his chest makes him do something stupid.

Shidou and Oliver call after him in confusion, but Sae ignores them, disappearing into the crowd without looking back.

There’s an outdoor section attached to the lounge, guarded by a set of clunky metal doors he didn’t notice until now. He pushes past them and is pleased to find the space almost entirely empty, save for the trio of smokers who are already on their way back inside, their cigarettes quickly blackening in the ashtray left on one of the tables outside.

Sae walks past them as they exit, ignoring the open chairs and couches in favor of standing closer to the balcony. He braces himself against the railing, nursing a drink he doesn’t even really want in his hand and a heaviness he isn’t used to in his heart.

It’s colder out here than it is inside. Quieter, too, though Sae hardly minds it. He welcomes the chill and the silence it brings, even if it does little to sort out his thoughts. All he knows for sure is that right now, he wants to be alone, and being out here can give him that, so he stays.

He enjoys about ten minutes of blissful silence before he hears the doors push open again. He braces himself with a deep sigh and looks over his shoulder, ready to tell Oliver to go back inside and leave him alone, but he stops himself when he sees that it’s you.

And it’s awful, Sae thinks, how easily the sight of you softens him, how happy he is to see you, even now. A few seconds ago, he was convinced he didn’t want to see anyone at all, but looking at you now, he can’t imagine ever asking you to leave.

The thought’s a little easier for him to stomach now that he’s accepted his feelings for you, but that doesn’t make it any less disorienting.

“There you are,” you say, greeting him with a warm smile and looking just as happy to see him now as you were when he first arrived. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to. I tried asking Oliver, but he wasn’t sure, either.”

Sae’s eyebrows raise at your words, his previous agitation forgotten. “You went looking for me?”

“Of course.” You join him at the railing, heels clacking against the pavement as you walk. You’re standing close enough now that your arm touches his, but he doesn’t pull away, and neither do you. “I can’t exactly fulfill my promise of ogling you if you’re all the way out here, now, can I?”

“I’m sure you would’ve figured something out,” he says, bumping his shoulder with yours, even as the corners of his lips twitch in amusement. “You’re persistent that way.”

“Can you blame me? You know what the sight of you with your shirt buttons undone does to the general public, myself included.”

“Weirdly enough, you’re not the first person to tell me that tonight.”

“Let me guess— Shidou?”

“He’s the only other person as dedicated to flirting with me as you are.”

You laugh, flipping your hair over your shoulder with a shrug. “What can I say? We have excellent taste.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” He raises an eyebrow at you and hums, amused. “And here I thought it was just the two of you being shameless as always.”

“Only for you,” you say, voice low and playful, punctuating your words with a ridiculous wink that he shouldn’t find nearly half as endearing as he does. “Well, you and Pedro Pascal, but he didn’t show up for my birthday the way you did, so— mostly you.”

“I’m flattered,” he drawls sarcastically, making you laugh.

A brief silence follows, though it’s far from uncomfortable. It never is, not when it’s just you and Sae. You know he isn’t exactly the most talkative person, but you’ve never seemed to have a problem with that, never tried to make him into something he’s not. It’s one of the many things he likes about you.

You blink when you catch him staring at you, but you don’t hesitate to smile at him anyway. “What?”

“Nothing.” He’s quick to change the subject, clearing his throat and tearing his gaze away from your own. That’s when he notices the way you’re shivering, your arms going up to wrap around yourself as a breeze passes and goosebumps rise on your skin. “You’re cold.”

“Only a little,” you admit, expression bashful as you rub your arm, “but it’s fine. I’ll adjust. Honestly, with how hot it was inside, I probably need the—”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders and offering it for you to take. “Here.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. Really, you don’t have to—”

Your protests quickly go nowhere, Sae choosing to ignore you and all but shoving his jacket into your hands. You accept it from him somewhat unsurely, though that hesitance quickly disappears the moment you feel how warm his jacket feels around you.

You slide your arms through the sleeves and let the jacket rest comfortably around your shoulders, looking up to face him with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

He nods in acknowledgement of your gratitude but says nothing else, too busy taking in the sight of you in his jacket and thinking about how much better it’d be if you were actually his.

Not for the first time, he thinks of confessing his feelings. He settles for bringing up the gift he got you instead, hoping it’ll be enough to make you understand.

“There’s something in it for you,” he says quickly, before he can talk himself out of it. “Inside the pocket.”

You blink, taken aback. “Really?”

When he nods, you reach inside his jacket. It takes you a moment or two of rummaging around, but eventually you find what you’re looking for, pulling out the dark velvet box that holds the necklace he got you for your birthday and cradling it gently inside your palm.

You meet his gaze briefly, eyes soft and searching, before opening the box with your other hand. You let out a tiny gasp when you see what’s inside, your eyes widening at the sun pendant that rests before you. It quite literally takes your breath away, and Sae knows, even before you meet his eyes again, that he’s done something right.

“Oh, my god. Sae, this is so— I mean, I don’t even know what to—” He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this way before, so at a loss for words. Usually you always have something to say, but right now you can hardly form a sentence, eyes wide as you all but gape at him. “Are you sure?”

“Happy birthday,” Sae says, as softly and sincerely as he can manage. “I hope you like it.”

“Are you kidding? How could I not?”

You laugh a little, voice disbelieving as you trace your fingertips over the necklace, gentle and admiring. Sae can’t help but smile to himself as he watches you, pleased by how touched you seem to be by the gift.

“It’s beautiful. Seriously, Sae, it’s gorgeous and wonderful— and way too fucking expensive.” You snap the box closed, shaking your head firmly. “I can’t accept this.”

Your words make him frown, brows furrowing slightly as you hold the box out to him. He had a feeling you’d be difficult about this, knowing how notoriously stubborn you are, but he thought you’d at least put the necklace on before trying to give it back to him.

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, why not?” You stare at him, bewildered, an almost comically serious look on your face as you lift the box in your hands and shake it around. “Sae, there are actual diamonds on this necklace.”

He resists the urge to laugh at your expression, shrugging his shoulders and raising an eyebrow. “So?”

“So?” you repeat, giving him an incredulous look. “That means it’s probably worth more than my freakin’ apartment! I can’t take this from you.”

“You’re not taking anything. I’m giving it to you,” Sae corrects, completely unbothered, even as your eye starts to twitch in a way that makes it clear you think he’s lost his mind. “You know, like that gift thing people do on birthdays?”

He tries to make a joke, but you hardly acknowledge it, evidently too occupied with having an internal crisis about the amount of money he spent to appreciate his rare attempt at humor. There’s a frown on your lips and a crease in your brow that reassure him it’s going to take a lot more than that to convince you to accept the gift, but thankfully, Sae has already prepared for that.

“I’m not bringing it back to the store,” he says, meeting your eyes so you can see exactly how serious he is. “I already got rid of the receipt, and I’m not giving it to anyone else, so either you take it, or it goes in the trash.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the look on his face must make you reconsider, because you’re closing it before you can say anything else. Realizing that regardless of your protests, he won’t be changing his mind, you sigh, relenting.

“Fine. I’ll take it.” You’re trying your best to pout, making a show of your begrudging acceptance, but the sparkle in your eye as you gaze down at the box in your hand betrays just how thrilled you really are to be keeping the gift. “But I would like the record to show that I think you’re a psychopath. A filthy rich, full-blown psychopath.”

“You know, most people would just say thank you.”

Sae expects you to make a quip back, maybe even return his snark with an eye roll of your own, but you surprise him by taking his hand in yours, using the other to cradle the box to your chest.

“Thank you, Sae.” You squeeze his hand and smile, gratitude and sincerity hanging off every word. “I love it.”

You give his hand another gentle squeeze before releasing it and turning your attention back to the box you’re holding, a distraction Sae finds himself grateful for. He’s not sure what kind of expression he’s making right now, but if the way his pulse is racing is any indication, he doubts it’s anything normal.

He watches as you open the box and remove the necklace from inside. Once it’s been freed, you put the empty box back in his pocket and let the necklace dangle from your fingertips, turning to offer it to him again.

“Will you help me put it on?”

For a moment, all Sae can do is nod. His pulse is still racing, drumming beneath his skin with the kind of adrenaline he thought he’d only ever get while playing soccer. He ignores it as best as he can, clearing his throat and taking the necklace from you.

“Turn around.”

You do as he asks, turning so your back is facing him and holding up your hair so it’s out of the way. He brings the necklace to your throat, fingers brushing against your neck in a way that makes you shudder slightly, goosebumps rising on your skin as you lean instinctively into his touch.

The sight is tempting enough to make him want to forget the necklace entirely and bring his lips to your throat, grazing the spot below your ear he knows drives you crazy, but somehow he resists the urge, clasping the necklace shut without any further incident.

“Well?” You let go of your hair and turn back around to face him, a smile on your face as you put your hands on your hips and strike a pose. “How’s it look?”

What Sae wants to say is that you look stunning. That you always do, and that it has nothing to do with the necklace at your throat or the clothes you wear and everything to do with the way you carry yourself, dramatic nonsense and all.

What comes out of his mouth instead isn’t nearly as poetic. “It looks better on you than it would have in the garbage can.”

It’s probably one of the least romantic things you’ve ever heard, but luckily for him, you’re too used to his personality to be offended by it. All you do is laugh, brushing it off without a second thought.

“You know,” you say, in the shittiest imitation of his voice you can manage, throwing his words back at him the way he’s sure you planned to from the beginning, “most people would just say it looks good on me.”

Sae huffs out a laugh, though he still makes a point to roll his eyes at your words. He watches you grin and laugh along with him, taking in the curve of your lips and the flutter of your lashes, and finds himself speaking again, before he can change his mind.

“It does.” It’s hard to say who the confession surprises more— you or himself. He keeps going anyway, even as your laughter fades and your eyes widen. “You look—” It takes him a second to gather himself, the words awkward and stiff coming from his mouth, but just as sincere. “—beautiful. You are beautiful.”

Understandably, the compliment catches you off guard. Sae’s called you many things before —stubborn, ridiculous, dramatic, even shameless— but he’s never called you beautiful. He’s never called anything beautiful, at least not on purpose. You probably didn’t even think it was something he could do.

Maybe that’s why you’re looking at him so strangely now, his words stunning you into silence. He can only hope you know he meant them. Then he notices the shy little smile on your face and the way you wrap his jacket a little tighter around yourself and realizes you already do.

“Thank you.”

Another silence falls between you, different from before. This one is a little more intense, the air between you thick with words left unsaid, but it’s still not uncomfortable, at least not yet. Sae knows it’s true, because when he leans back against the railing, you follow, settling into the space beside him and letting your arm press against his without a hint of regret or awkwardness.

“I’m glad you’re here, Sae.” You don’t look at him when you say it, eyes on the city skyline below you, all the twinkling, faraway lights blanketed by the cover of darkness. Your voice is quieter than he’s used to, but still undoubtedly sincere. “And not because of the gift, or because of the compliment, even though those were nice, too— but because of you.”

That catches him off guard. “Because of me?”

“Yeah, because of you.” You turn to look at him then, all easy smiles and undeniable fondness. “Just you. I mean, obviously you didn’t have to be here, and I know you probably haven’t been enjoying yourself too much, but still, it’s nice.”

“What makes you think I’m not enjoying myself?”

“You’re kidding, right? This whole thing is loud music and a big crowd, neither of which you’re fond of. Besides, you told me you hated parties.”

“I don’t hate you.” The words fall from his lips before he can stop them, soft and tender and way too fucking honest. Your eyes widen, even more now than they did when he called you beautiful, and immediately he clears his throat, backtracking. “...I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh, so you do hate me, then?”

“What? No, that’s not what I—” He cuts himself off when he catches the smile you try and fail to hide behind your hand, any concern he had about hurting your feelings vanishing as he shoots you a scowl. “Oh, shut up.”

You give up on masking your amusement and begin laughing outright. Normally, the sound would annoy him, especially when done at his expense, but because it’s you, all it does is make him grow more fond, the corners of his lips curling into a smile of his own before he can stop them.

“If it makes you feel any better,” you say, your side pressing against his as you lean in close, whispering like you’re sharing a secret, “I don’t hate you, too.”

It’s nothing like an actual confession, nor can it be considered a real sign that you’ll return his feelings, but Sae hears you say it, watches the way you watch him, and suddenly he knows that if there were ever a time for him to tell you the truth, then this would be it.

But words have never come easily to Sae, so instead of saying it, instead of telling you, he decides to show you.

He brings his hand to your face, cupping your cheek in his palm with a kind of gentleness he didn’t even think himself capable of until now. He swipes his thumb along your bottom lip, his gaze never leaving yours, while you look on, startled by his sudden softness.

He knows as soon as he does it that the way he’s holding you now is something different, something real. He knows you’ll feel it, too, knows it’ll catch you off guard, even if it’s far from the first time he’s touched you. It’s why he isn’t the least bit surprised when your eyes widen, your voice a quiet, stunned murmur as you open your mouth to speak.

“Sae, what are you…”

He doesn’t let you finish that thought, closing what little distance is left between you to press his lips against yours. It’s a softer kiss than he usually goes for, every bit as tender and delicate as the way his hand cradles your cheek and filled with all the sincerity he can manage, all the longing he didn’t even realize he’d been feeling until now.

You’re breathless when he pulls away, lips parted and eyes fluttering back open to meet his, dazed, like you’re seeing him for the first time.

“What was that for?”

For a moment, Sae has no idea how to respond. You’ve always been the most observant person in the room —it’s how you found out about the ankle he sprained last month, having picked up on the strain in his voice the moment he answered your call— so the fact that you still haven’t realized he’s trying to confess his feelings for you is unexpected, to say the least.

Still, he doesn’t let it deter him, letting the hand he uses to cradle your face speak for him, thumb brushing across your cheek in a way he hopes makes things a little clearer.

“What do you think?”

You don’t answer right away, your eyes locked with his own, stunned and searching. You reach up a hand and place it over the one he has on your face, but your touch is hesitant, unsure— much like your voice is when you speak again.

“Honestly, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be thinking right now.”

Sae is trying very hard to be sensitive for you, but he can’t stop himself from frowning at your words. He knew telling you about his feelings —or, in this case, showing you— wasn’t going to be easy, but he didn’t think it’d be this hard, either. And though he knows it’s probably unfair of him to think kissing you like this will be enough, your reaction isn’t exactly making him feel any better about it.

“It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve kissed you.”

“Well, yeah, I know that, but you’ve never—” You cut yourself off, brows furrowing as you fix him with a serious look. “You’ve never kissed me like that.”

“Maybe I just didn’t think you could handle it.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, Sae knows, not to mention completely at odds with what he’s actually feeling, but it’s what comes out of his mouth, anyway. You frown as soon as he says it, eyes narrowing as you shake your head.

“You’re such a dick, Sae.”

“I know.” He moves his hand and brushes a piece of hair away from your face. You let him, your gaze flickering down to his lips then back up again to meet his eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”

And though he knows as well as you do that you should say yes, though you have every right to push him away and demand he explain himself properly, all you do is lean in closer, your lips hovering against his as you answer, voice low and deliberate and just a little breathless, “...No.”

He closes the distance at the same time you do, your lips meeting in another kiss that’s as longing and passionate as the first. It’s just as soft, too, soft in the way you still can’t quite make sense of, but that hardly seems to matter to you now as you tilt your head and let yourself become lost in it, one of your hands going up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck.

Then you’re pressing your body against his, your lips moving to nip at his jaw, and it’s all Sae can do to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer, his mouth finding yours once more.

There’s so much more the two of you need to talk about, so much he still has tell you so that you can finally understand the extent of his feelings, but right now, all he can focus on is the feel of your lips against his own and the weight of you in his arms, steady and solid, like it’s where you were meant to be all along.

He lifts a hand to cradle your jaw, and your lips part, tongue sliding against his as he walks the two of you backwards. Your back hits the railing, and you make a needy little sound in the back of your throat that just makes him kiss you harder, one of your legs going up to wrap around his waist.

His lips are halfway down your neck when your phone starts to ring. The two of you ignore it at first, too lost in each other to pay it any real mind, and eventually it stops, just in time for Sae to make his way back up to your lips, his free hand shifting lower to grip at your thigh.

Not even a minute later, the ringing starts back up again, a loud, chiming tone that’s a lot harder to ignore the second time around. Reluctantly, Sae pulls away, though he doesn’t go very far— just enough to meet your eyes, one of his hands still cradling the side of your face.

“You should probably answer that,” he mutters, even as his other hand smooths over the skin of your thigh, his lips hovering just a breath away from your own.

“What?” you ask, dazed and distracted, your eyes still focused on his lips.

“Your phone, dumbass,” he replies, soft and amused, the corners of his mouth curling up at your reaction. “Answer it before your friends start a tequila-fueled search party.”

“Oh, shit— yeah.” The reality of his words spurs you back into action, your eyes widening a fraction as you snap yourself out of your daze. “Good call.”

You work together to untangle yourselves from each other, unwinding your arms from around his neck while Sae guides your leg back to the ground to help you find your footing. When he’s sure you won’t fall, he lets his hands drop and takes a step back, giving you space to answer the call.

You, however, seem to have other plans, your hand shooting out to grab onto the front of his shirt before he can get too far. Your phone is still ringing, even louder now that you’ve pulled it out of your purse, but you don’t seem too concerned about it, your attention focused solely on Sae.

“This’ll be quick,” you reassure him. “So don’t— don’t go anywhere, okay?”

It’s cute, Sae thinks, how earnest you sound when you say it, how serious you look as you ask him to stay. He’s never been good at denying you anything, even before he realized he had feelings for you, and now? Now, it’s the last thing on his mind. “Okay.”

Your expression brightens, lips curling up as you smile, pleased by his response. Then you let go of his shirt and swipe at your phone screen, bringing the device up to your ear.

“Hello?”

There’s a brief pause as you lean against the railing, awaiting a response. Sae doesn’t think much of it, until he hears you speak again.

“Oh, hey, Adrian.”

That’s when the tension in his chest from earlier returns full force, every muscle in Sae’s body locking up the moment your ex-boyfriend’s name leaves your lips. You don’t pick up on it, either, too focused on your conversation to notice the frown on his face or the furrow of his brow.

(He can’t tell if that makes things better or worse.)

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just stepped out for a minute,” you continue, oblivious to the tension in his frame, the scoff he just barely manages to hide. “No, I’m not, I promise— I’m with a friend.”

A friend, you say, as if that’s all you expect from him, all you want him to be. Just a friend, as if everything that’s happened between you tonight doesn’t matter.

Needless to say, it doesn’t sit well with him at all.

Is that why you told him you were okay with him missing your party? Why you looked so surprised when he showed up anyway? Because you wanted to spend the night with your ex-boyfriend instead?

Earlier, Sae thought that the longing and urgency that poured from your lips as you kissed him back meant something, that you could actually want him the way he wants you. Not just as a friend or a hookup or whatever the hell it is you’ve been doing this whole time, but as something more, something real.

He understands now that it was all just wishful thinking on his part, a fantasy he should’ve known better than to indulge. He feels whatever softness you managed to bring out of him fade away, and with it his desire to open his heart and confess his feelings for you.

The logical part of his brain, the part he usually has no trouble listening to, knows he’s overreacting. It isn’t fair of him to assume there’s something going on with you and Adrian just because you answered his phone call, just like it isn’t fair of him to assume you’ll understand his feelings without him actually talking to you about them.

Still, it’s hard to be logical when all Sae can focus on is the churn of his stomach and the ache in his chest as he watches you chat with your ex. It’s a little easier than watching you interact with him in person, Sae supposes, but not by much. He still feels ready to throw up by the end of it, frustrated and annoyed for reasons he still isn’t sure how to explain to you.

Thankfully, you don’t stay on the phone for long. Your conversation with Adrian only lasts a minute or two, and then you’re hanging up the call, tucking your phone back into your purse without any further distractions.

You reach for Sae the moment your hands are free, throwing your arms around his neck and pressing your body against his. It’s muscle memory for him to open his arms and welcome you, his hands moving to rest at your waist before he can stop himself.

“Now,” you say with a smile, earnest and eager as you lean in close, “where were we?”

You kiss him, then, determined to pick up exactly where you left off, your lips warm and soft as they move against his own. And if it were any other day, then Sae would be kissing you back without a second thought, tightening his grip on your waist and pulling you even closer.

But that was before your phone call with Adrian, before you laughed and said Sae was just your friend, right after he kissed you and held you in a way he thought would make it clear that he wanted more than that. Now it’s all he can think about, all that frustration and bitterness he felt earlier —and jealousy, he realizes now, begrudgingly, unfortunately— settling into his chest in the worst way.

It doesn’t take you long to notice his hesitance. You feel his lack of response and pull back, a look of concern on your face as you meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

If Sae were better, more honest, he’d tell you the truth. He’d tell you how much he hates the idea of you and your ex reconnecting, how he can’t stand seeing you with Adrian or anyone else for that matter, not because he actually knows him or because he doesn’t trust your judgment, but because he wants you to be with him instead.

But Sae can’t do that. In fact, just the mere thought of putting himself out there, of allowing himself to be that vulnerable without knowing exactly what’s going on inside your head makes him feel like he’s going to be sick, so he doesn’t.

He just shuts down entirely, closing himself off the way he always does whenever he starts feeling more than he knows how to handle. It’s probably the worst thing he can do at this moment, especially when it comes to you, but that’s of little consequence to him when he feels as raw and hopelessly human as he does right now.

“You should get back inside,” is what he tells you instead, distancing himself in the only way he knows how, though it’s the exact opposite of what his heart wants. “Your friends are waiting for you.”

At first, the bitterness in his tone is lost on you. Your lips curve into a smirk, your voice playful and coy as you lower your hands to his neck and tug at the collar of his shirt. “They can wait a little longer.”

You lean in to kiss him again, pulling on his collar so he can meet you halfway, your tongue sliding along his bottom lip. He ends up kissing you back despite himself, parting his lips so your tongue can meet his before he has the chance to think better of it.

It takes him longer than he’d like to admit to remember he’s supposed to be distancing himself from you, too lost in the feeling of your lips moving against his to recall why he was so upset in the first place.

Eventually, though, he finds it in himself to pull away, turning his head before you have the chance to kiss him again. “Something tells me Adrian wouldn’t agree with you.”

This time, you do notice the bitterness in his voice. You loosen your grip on his collar, drawing back to give him a funny look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just forget it.” Sae lets his hands drop, releasing his hold on your waist. You’re so caught off guard, you don’t even complain, your own hands falling back down to your sides as he takes a step away from you. “You can leave my jacket with Oliver. I’ll get it from him later.”

“Wait, what?” You don’t bother to hide your confusion at his sudden shift in mood, eyes wide as you stare at him in disbelief. “You’re leaving?”

“You said it yourself.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, the smile he sends you wry and humorless. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“Yeah, well, neither is being passive aggressive, but you seem to be doing a great job of that right now.” You cross your arms over your chest and frown, your normally relaxed features twisting into a scowl. You’re definitely annoyed by his behavior, but he can see in your eyes that you’re hurt by it, too. He thought seeing that would make him feel better, but it doesn’t. “Why are you being like this, Sae? A minute ago, we were totally fine, and now you’re acting like you’re mad at me or something.”

“I’m not acting like anything.”

“Yes, you are, and I want to know why. I mean, all I did was answer one phone call, so why are you acting so— oh. Oh, my god. Is that why you’re mad at me? Because of the phone call?”

Sae turns to scoff at you, acting as if he couldn’t care less, even though the problem is that he very much does. “You really think I give a shit that you spoke to your ex?”

“Why does it matter that he’s my ex?” You tilt your head, then, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, until slowly —despite his best efforts— the realization begins to dawn on you. All at once, your confusion disappears, replaced by a wide-eyed, knowing look that makes whatever hope he had of avoiding this conversation vanish. “Itoshi Sae, are you jealous?”

You’re right, of course —frustratingly enough, you kind of always are— but Sae thinks he’d rather chew concrete than admit it, especially when he’s already resigned himself to burying his feelings.

It’s why he kisses his teeth at your words, his lip curling up in disdain. “Tch, you wish.”

“Liar. You’re jealous as hell. In fact, I bet the whole reason you were even out here in the first place is because you saw me dance with him and got all sulky about it. That’s how jealous you are.” You’re confident enough about it to dare to take a step forward, raising an eyebrow as you meet his eyes with an expectant look. “Am I wrong?”

All Sae can do is scowl at you, irritated by both your smugness and the fact that it does nothing to change the way he feels about you. “You’re a pain in the ass, is what you are.”

And because you’re you, of course his words don’t offend you in the slightest. If anything, your satisfaction only grows, your lips curving into a smirk that’s as pleased as it is insufferable. “I still haven’t heard a ‘no.’”

Sae grimaces but remains silent, half because he’s stubborn and half because you aren’t wrong. You’ve always been smart, too smart, really —it’s one of the things he likes most about you— so of course you were able to pick up on his jealousy, despite his attempts at denying it.

He expects you to give him a hard time over it, maybe even chew him out for how immature and ridiculous he’s been acting as a result, but you surprise him by wrapping your arms around his shoulders. When he doesn’t push you away, you take that as a sign to continue, tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You know you don’t have to be jealous, right?” Your voice is tender and comforting when you speak. There’s a certain seriousness in it, too, a firmness that lets him know how much you mean it. He wishes it didn’t affect him as much as it does. “Adrian and I used to be a thing, sure, but it’s not like that between us anymore. He and I are just friends now.”

“You mean the same way you and I are just friends?”

“Oh, wow, you really are jealous. Is that why you showed up tonight? You wanted to make sure there was nothing going on between me and my ex?”

“It couldn’t matter to me even if there was.” He tries not to sound bitter when he says it, but his efforts are hardly effective, the half-smile he forces tight-lipped and strained, even as he moves his hands to settle on your hips. “It’s not like I’m your boyfriend.”

“I didn’t think you’d ever want to be,” you admit, low and honest. And maybe he’s just imagining it, but he swears there’s a hint of disappointment in your voice, too, a sadness he isn’t quite sure how to make sense of. “I mean, back when we started all this, neither of us wanted a relationship. Has that changed?”

It takes all Sae has to keep himself from ripping his own hair out, because haven’t you been paying attention at all? Of course it’s changed. Do you really think he’d be here fighting with himself and agonizing over how to confess to you if it hadn’t?

He wants to tell you as much, can feel the words right there on the tip of his tongue, but his pride keeps him from saying them out loud, at least not until he knows exactly how you feel, too.

“Has it changed for you?”

“Not so fast, hotshot. I asked you first.”

He sighs. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.” The look you give him is as unapologetic as it is pointed, the sternness in your voice leaving little room for argument. “You almost walked away from me on my birthday, asshole. The least you can do now is answer my question.”

It’s a fair point, he knows, especially after everything he’s put you through tonight, but Sae is nothing if not completely awful when it comes to verbalizing his feelings. He knows it most likely won’t be enough to satisfy you, but he gives your hips a gentle squeeze anyway, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you closer. “Isn’t this answer enough?”

“Not even close,” you tell him flatly, every bit as unimpressed as he thought you’d be. “I want you to tell me how you really feel about me. And I want you to say it with your words, not just hold me or kiss me and expect me to read between the lines.”

“Words aren’t really my strong suit,” he mutters, more honest now than he’s been all night, averting his gaze to the floor.

“Try anyway.” You lift a hand and run your fingers through his hair the way you know he likes. It’s disarming enough to have him meeting your gaze once more. Your eyes are soft, searching. Patient, too, despite him, the way you always seem to be. “Come on, Sae. Is it really that hard for you to be honest with me?”

He laughs, though there isn’t any humor to it. “You have no idea.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Of course not.”

“Are you okay with me dating other people?”

“Definitely not.”

“Why?”

Sae narrows his eyes, shooting you a flat look, because you know. You have to know. After everything he’s said, everything he’s done, there’s no way you haven’t pieced it together by now. “You already know why.”

“Oh, I do,” you confirm, smug and irritating as ever, smile bright and eyes knowing, “but I want to hear you say it, anyway.” You brush his hair out of his eyes, and he watches as your expression morphs into something softer, something fond and affectionate that makes his heart stutter the way it’s only ever done around you. “For me?”

And though it isn’t easy for him, though it goes against all of his better instincts and is quite possibly the last thing he’s ever wanted to do— for you, he decides to be sincere. “Fine.”

He takes a deep breath and forces himself to find the words, urged on by the weight of you in his arms and the tender, encouraging way you’re looking at him. It’s daunting for him to be this honest, not to mention completely unnerving, especially when you both know how bad he is with words in general— but for you, he’s willing to try.

“...I like you. I really, really like you, as in I have feelings for you, and this thing we’ve been doing, this casual, no strings, whatever the hell it is— it’s not enough for me anymore. And I want— I want to be with you. For real, this time, if— if you’ll have me.”

Sae snaps his mouth closed the moment he’s able to get the words out, bracing himself for your reaction. He isn’t sure what he’s expecting from you, exactly —rejection, reciprocation, maybe some backwards, nonsensical combination of them both— but he’s determined to be prepared for it regardless, determined to appear unaffected, even if it means he has to grit his teeth to do so.

But then you’re cupping his face in your hands, gaze soft and open and filled with the kind of affection he never once imagined he’d be on the receiving end of, and any notion he had of remaining unaffected is promptly cast aside, replaced by the warmth of your touch and the tender, fond way you look at him.

You lean in, and it’s all Sae can do to close his eyes as you press your lips against his in a slow, gentle kiss. The gesture is soft and surprisingly chaste, soft like the way he kissed you earlier, back when he was trying to communicate the extent of his feelings. It doesn’t last very long, but it doesn’t need to, not when he can feel it linger even after you pull away, delicate and deliberate, important in all the ways that matter.

When he opens his eyes, he finds that you’re already looking at him, your lips pulled into that soft little smile he doesn’t think he’ll ever get sick of. Then you wrap your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his.

“I want to be with you, too,” you say, steady and sure, without a hint of regret or uncertainty, and Sae swears something in his chest cracks wide open, every bit of affection he’s ever felt for you pouring out until it’s all he knows, all he can feel. “As way more than just casual. I have for a while now.”

“You have?” The confession catches him off guard, makes his eyes widen a fraction as he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze properly. “Since when?”

“Since your away game in France.” You say it naturally, doubtlessly, without any of the hesitation he would’ve had to grapple with to do the same thing. Not for the first time, he finds himself envying how easy you make it look, how effortless it is for you to be so honest and upfront about your feelings. “You were only gone for two weeks, but it felt like ages. Then you showed up to my apartment with pastries from that bakery your manager suggested, and they were amazing, but all I could think about was how happy I was that you were back. That’s when I knew I was in trouble.”

For a moment, Sae has no idea what to say. His away game in France was almost two months ago. You’ve had feelings for him since back then? If that was the case, then why didn’t you tell him? Had he really made you feel like you couldn’t talk to him about it?

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I wanted to, but every time I thought about bringing it up, I’d remember what we said about keeping it casual. I figured if I said something, it’d scare you off. And I didn’t— I didn’t want to lose you. I still don’t.”

You look down, then, averting your gaze, uncharacteristically nervous as you fidget with the buttons on his shirt. And as Sae watches you standing there in front of him, quiet and apprehensive in a way he’s never seen you before, he wonders if maybe he’s not the only one who’s been reluctant to be vulnerable, after all.

Things would be different if either one of you had said something sooner, he knows. If you’d been brave enough to let the other in. He imagines it would’ve saved you both a lot of time, knowing that it wasn’t just one-sided, that your feelings were returned.

But you’re still here. You both are, and that’s more than enough, he thinks. It’s everything.

(After all, Sae’s never wanted anything the way he wants you.)

It’s why he takes your chin in his hand, urging you to look up at him. For once, you don’t put up much of a fight, your eyes flickering up to meet his own.

That’s when he kisses you, soft and sweet, passionate and patient the way you’ve always been with him, the way he knows you deserve to have returned. He kisses you like he means it, like you have all the time in the world, because right now, you do. He kisses you, and he hopes you feel the promise in it, the one that this time, he won’t hesitate to say out loud.

“You don’t have to worry about losing me, dummy,” he tells you as soon as you break apart for air, breathless and sincere as he presses his forehead against yours. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

You smile at him, then, knowing how much he means it, bright and beaming as you take his hand in yours and lace your fingers together.

“I’m not going anywhere, either,” you promise, and the best part is, you don’t.

When the two of you go back inside to rejoin the party, you do it together, your hand tucked securely into his, your fingers intertwined. You’re still wearing his jacket, still smiling at him in that warm, easy way of yours. He knows now for sure it’s something he’ll never get tired of, knows he’s going to spend the rest of the foreseeable future making sure he deserves it.

When your friends see you walk in holding hands with Sae, chaos ensues. Thankfully, the two of you are more than prepared for it, braving their onslaught of wolf-whistles and too-personal questions without missing a beat.

Somehow, Oliver and Aina are the loudest of the bunch, hooting and hollering in matching degrees of shock and excitement, despite already knowing what the two of you have been up to these past few months. Shidou isn’t far behind them, though he does lament Sae’s new taken status. He wraps an arm around each of your shoulders and very seriously offers himself up to the two of you as a willing volunteer for a threesome, should you ever find yourselves in the market for one.

You and Sae take it all in stride, enduring their teasing and answering their least invasive questions until finally you decide to use your birthday authority to put an end to their pestering, declaring in no uncertain terms that they all go back to celebrating. They complain about it, of course, well-meaning and meddlesome as they are, but still they do as you ask, cooing and waggling their eyebrows at you as they take their leave.

“I’m sorry our friends are all unhinged weirdos,” you apologize as soon as everyone else is gone, blunt and serious enough to make Sae laugh. You’re sitting in his lap on the couch, the two of you tucked away in a dark corner of the lounge in an attempt at finding some reprieve from all the chatter and excitement of the night. “And that they have no concept of what it means to mind their own business.”

He hums in acknowledgement, reassuring you with a kiss to your shoulder that there’s nothing you need to apologize for. You smile at the gesture and drape your arm around his shoulders in turn, using your other hand to press your palm against his cheek and make him look up at you.

It’s only then he notices the slight crease in your brow, the worry you’re trying your best to play off with a carefree smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “They didn’t scare you away, did they?”

“Not even close.” He shakes his head and squeezes at your hip, taking your hand in his to press a kiss against your palm. “You’re gonna have to do a lot more than that to get rid of me.”

“Good.” You wind your fingers through his, that smile he likes —maybe even loves— curving its way onto your lips. Happiness has always been a fickle thing for Sae, floating just outside of his reach, but he sees the way you look at him, feels the warmth of your skin against his, and he knows— it’s here. It’s you. It’s always been you. “I’m glad.”

Yeah, Sae thinks, shifting to meet you halfway as you lean down for his lips, only this time he doesn’t have to worry about hiding or burying his feelings. This time, he doesn’t have to do anything at all except kiss you, the girl he’s wanted for too long, the one he finally gets to call his. So am I.

Written by: Dawn Taglist link

[maybe-boys-do-love]

Mix Sahaphap gets to perform (and has the performance chops to perform) in a style that I’ve never seen any other male actor get to embody. Mix gets to unironically play the #strongfemalecharacter. The Beatrice, the Elizabeth Bennett, the Jo March. Strong-willed, emotional, kind-hearted.

Not only do the plot points line up, but Mix, more than any BL actor I’ve seen, fully leans into the embodiment of this archetype. In his roles, he rolls his eyes, pouts, banters flirtatiously, softens his posture and expression at small details. He doesn’t over-exaggerate and imposition other characters but his face also doesn’t hold back his character’s thoughts and judgments. And when the moments arrive, he lets all the hurt and anguish pour out in shatters of tears and visible heartbreak—the star-counting scene, anyone????—in a way that harkens to the operatic emotionality of well-done melodramas, soap-operas, and their contemporary Thai equivalent of Lakorn. It’s only that these have never been men’s roles in those.

It’s no surprise that one of Mix’s roles—Cupid’s Last Wish—is explicitly a gender body-swap, and Tian in A Tale of Thousand Stars is (albeit explicitly denied within the show) heavily connected to gender body-swapping. What Mix specializes in as an actor, and does exceptionally well, has been defined as feminine. To depict a kind of queer expression in this style is novel because it’s not camp, it’s not okama, it’s not a soft or femboy, it’s not a BL twink (Mix has been mostly excluded from the schoolyards and quads of the BL universe except for a role as a senior crush in Fish Upon the Sky). It’s too sincere and too adult for any of that.

In Moonlight Chicken we get to see, without the pretense of gendered mysticism, this performance style’s seduction, warmth, wit, and explosiveness within the framework of a general gay form of expression. It says that this kind of femininity might just be a gay thing. Not all gay men exhibit it, obviously—queer men aren’t a monolith. Still, it gives us something to consider about how we observe performance of queerness on screen, especially in front of an audience that puts so much more emphasis on ships, heat, and pairing chemistry to assess how well they perform a BL role. Could we look for other features to judge performance of queerness instead of how well they kiss?

Seme and uke roles would be the major performance style categories loyal BL fans assess actors with, yet even within the archetype his character’s fill within BL narratives, Mix’s performances differ from the typical uke depiction in BL because he really doesn’t perform them as passive. Rather, Mix’s characters and his portrayal of them are dynamic and demanding. It certainly fits certain stereotypes of ukes (Gilbert!) and their gay stereotype equivalent of bottoms as pillow princesses and brats. Mix’s characters, though, have more drive, agency, and compassion than that, and he plays them with all of those currents running underneath.

We certainly have openly gay writer/director Aof Noppharnach to thank for writing this kind of queer character for Mix to play in Tian and Wen. But for Mix’s specific commitment to the performance starting off with his (debut!?) role in ATOTS, we first have Earth to thank for believing in Mix’s ability and recommending him to portray the role of Tian, and then Aof’s acceptance despite his differing initial expectations for the character. Mix, Earth, and Aof have all been open about how Mix in his personal life and nature holds a lot of similarities to both his role as Tian in ATOTS and Wen in Moonlight Chicken. Some people might knock points off his performances because he’s like them. But his relationship to the characters, rather than dampening my enthusiasm for Mix’s performances, helps me appreciate his willingness to give an authentic performance in a style that hasn’t been encouraged on screens previously. It’s made more impactful that he chose to risk vulnerability to bring something personal that had previously been excluded from screens because of its gender deviance (and in broader society explicitly condemned). This doesn’t make a claim on Mix’s actual identity, but simply shows his willingness to understand and perform the expressions of his queer characters with an effort at empathy that many other actors would feel challenged to bring.

Some actors are chameleons, but some actors have a gift of a type within which they can explore depths and range that no one else can best. For me, that’s what Mix does in his work when directors and casting understands his talent. There’s a BTS video of Mix actually fainting during a scene while in Earth/Phupa’s embrace on the mountain that immediately brought to mind the wildly famous final scene in the film Camille where Greta Garbo as Marguerite dies in her lover’s arms.

For Mix, it was a serious incident due to regrettably extreme conditions and requiring the on-set paramedics, but these levels of theatrics, for me, are emblematic of what Mix is capable of as a performer, as well. After all, he had to faint in Phupa’s arms multiple times on purpose. It’s the kinds of Old Hollywood and heightened sentimental romance realms Mix takes his performances to! Then he can turn around and make it look easy to take that same character into grounded quips or dedicated everyday tasks. It only takes writers, directors, and audiences willing to see that men can feel this way and act this way. Mix has paved the way.

[sturnsstar]

Adore You ✶ Matt Sturniolo (NSFW)

⋆.˚pairing: Extrovert!Yapper!FemReader x Introvert!Matt

⋆.˚warnings: porn with plot / minor discussion / reader can’t take anything seriously and overthinks a lot / miscommunication / Matt just wants reader to shut up / Matt is a communication king / pet names! / SMUT / fingering / brief jerking off / some dirty talk / p in v / no protection (USE IT) / they banter a lot

⋆.˚requested: no

⋆.˚summary: You and Matt have been together for almost 5 months now. Your lifestyle is pretty different from his, but you manage to find compromises throughout the relationship. One night, you convince him to accompany you to a party, where you start to overthink your relationship. Luckily, Matt is here to prove you wrong. 

P.S. english is not my first language.

It was 11 pm as I finished reapplying my gloss for the third time that night. I finally convinced Matt to come to a party with me. It had been a while since I last went to a big social event, since Matt doesn’t really enjoy them. He never stopped me from going, of course, but he generally declined my invitations to join me.

Tonight though he changed his mind: while I was in the middle of preparations he sent me a text, asking me where and when the party was. I was so excited to go with him: I liked showing him off, he was my best friend and the best thing that ever happened to me. I honestly didn’t understand how he could like me, given the fact our personalities were so different: I’m what could be described as a social butterfly, a yapper, always ready for a new adventure or a new party, the more people the better. Matt was somewhat shy but not really: he enjoyed being with his friends but he never liked loud places, which I, on the contrary, loved.

We somehow worked anyway: he’s the lighthouse I need to calm myself, the part of me that knows how to handle me and my moods. And I like to think I help him too, making him understand that sometimes going out and trying new things is not that bad.

He picks me up twenty minutes later and we drive to the house where the party is taking place. The host is one of my old schoolmates: she’s graduated University and wants to celebrate with her old friends. I begged Matt to come with me, mostly because I want him to know my friends better. The fact he’s here with me tonight means the world to me.

“Thank you for joining me” I say, taking his right hand in mine and squeezing it gently. “It means a lot”.

“Sure, sun” he says not looking at me but squeezing my hand back, his attention on the road. I notice his hand is a bit sweaty. He’s nervous.

“It will be alright. They will like you” I reassure him, confident in my words. There’s nothing not to like about Matt: he’s a kind soul, he just needs to be more open to let the rest of the world see it as well. He hums the tune of the song that’s playing on the radio, and I understand he doesn’t want to continue the conversation. I lay back against the seat and enjoy the rest of the ride with him, knowing he needs silence to relax completely. He doesn’t let go of my hand, though.

We arrive at the right address and he parks the car a bit far away from the house. He kills the engine and doesn’t move to open the car door.

“You don’t have to, if you’re not comfortable” I say calmly, smiling softly at him. He turns his gaze to meet mine, and I can see the anxiety in his eyes. “I won’t force you to do something you don’t want, Matt. We can go home, watch some movie” I suggest, not able to hide the bit of disappointment in my voice. He notices it.

“No, it’s alright. We’re here anyway” and he gets out of the car. I can’t shake off the feeling he’s forcing himself to do this. That’s not what I want. Reluctantly I exit the car and reach his side as we walk towards the house. I take his hand in mine for reassurance, both his and mine, and we enter the already full house together.

Immediately the smell of smoke reaches us. I wrinkle my nose as we make our way through the living room, looking for the host. We find her in the kitchen, two beers in hand.

“You came!” She yells as soon as she sees me, making her way through the multitude of bodies that stand between us. I laugh happily at her outburst and her wobbly walk and immediately greet her with a hug, letting go of Matt’s hand.

“Of course! How could I miss it?” I ask grinning widely. I move back a step to be next to Matt again. “This is my boyfriend, Matt!” I introduce him to my friend, and she screeches about the fact that she’s been dying to meet him. I sense Matt flinching but my friend doesn’t notice. I do, though. He’s uncomfortable.

“We’ll just take something to drink, is that alright? Then we can catch up later” I tell my friend as I grab two cokes from the ice bucket. She voices her agreement before she shrieks again as soon as she sees another girl that played volleyball with us in school. With that she leaves us. I turn to look at Matt. 

“Did you like her?” I ask hopefully. He shrugs. “She yells a lot,” he deadpans. My shoulders sag, knowing this would be his answer but hoping he would say something else.

He senses my disappointment and takes my hand once again. “Sorry, sun. I’m trying” he says, his brows furrowed and his blue eyes sincere. I soften, knowing this is hard for him. He’s doing it for me. I smile and get on my tiptoes to peck his lips softly. “I know,” I whisper. 

Sometime later we make our way to the garden, where a bunch of different seats are spread all around on the grass. We sit down on a sofa where one of my old schoolmates invited us to. He was on the baseball team, if I remember well. We never really connected during school, but we were always at the same social gatherings, somehow. Tonight, he’s as drunk as one can be and suddenly considers me one of his oldest and dearest friends.

“And then, oh, then remember when they dared you to jump into the neighbors pool, and you actually did that?” He asks loudly and I giggle nervously, remembering I was a bit wild in my early teens. “Yeah, well, they called the cops after” I remember bashfully. 

“You never told me this story,” Matt says. I blush. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t one of my best moments” I admit embarrassed. Why do I feel so awkard? He’s my boyfriend, he knows me and he knows this happened years ago. I feel like I’m trying to make a good impression on him.

“This is just one of many, Matt!” Liam laughs. “She was a beast! You couldn’t stop her” I eye him carefully, not liking where this is going.

“You’re exaggerating” I try to joke, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. Liam scoffs. “Exaggerating? Nah. I was there! And if I remember it right, you never gave a fuck about what others thought. What’s changed?” He asks playfully. I feel Matt stiffen. 

“Nothing. I just don’t do this staff anymore” I deadpan, my face set in a stoic expression. I don’t like this conversation, I don’t like this party anymore. 

“Whatever, you’re no fun” Liam scoffs, his attention on me finally over. He turns around to find his next victim and I worriedly turn to look at Matt, but I find his expression extremely calm. 

“Everything ok?” I ask tentatively, and he turns to look at me quizzically.

“Yeah? I’m not a child who’s never interacted with the world” he spits, rather brutally. He’s upset, he doesn’t like my friends. 

“Well, sorry I asked then” I bite back, turning away from him as another one of my old acquaintances calls my name. I chat with her for a long time, forcing myself to laugh at her jokes and smile at the right moments, trying to ignore the gloomy boy next to me.

This is ridiculous. I told him he wasn’t obligated to come with me. Now he’s here and he’s trying to make me feel like shit? I’m not having it. I can’t be ashamed of who I am and was: this is part of me, and if he doesn’t like it, I haven’t chained him so that he can’t leave whenever he likes.

Matt bounces his leg, making the whole sofa tremble, and I grow rapidly irritated. I feel overwhelmed by everything that’s happening: the people that were part of my daily life once felt like strangers now, the stories they’re telling are making me feel self conscious, and the glares I sense from Matt are making me mad. I get up abruptly, Matt follows.

“Something wrong?” He asks, suddenly worried. Oh, so now that he got what he wanted he’s suddenly worried about me?

“I want to leave” I say flatly, making my way to the door. He quickly comes after me, trying to keep up with my pace. Once we’re inside his car and he starts the engine, I feel his gaze on me.

“Were you not having fun?” He asks, and I almost believe he’s oblivious to how he made me feel tonight. 

“No, drive” I mutter, my cheek against the window. He doesn’t say anything as he wordlessly drives towards his house.

“I want to sleep at my house tonight” I say, hearing him take a breath.

“Why?” 

“I just want to”

“Your things are at my place, though”

“I’ll get them tomorrow”

“Sun, can you tell me what I did wrong?” He asks, his voice pleading.

Why do I feel like crying? I should be angry, instead I’m just ashamed. I haven’t felt like tonight in a while.

“Are you serious?” I whisper, turning to look at him. He senses my discomfort and quickly pulls over, killing the engine and turning his head to look at me.

“What’s wrong?” He asks again, his brow raised.

“All night, you acted like I forced you to come with me! You kept puffing and huffing all the time. I was afraid to say the wrong thing and piss you off!” I outburst, my cheeks red and my eyes watery. 

Matt stays silent for a while, waiting to see if I have something else to say. I don't. Once he realizes this, he lets out a breath.

“Can I speak now?” he asks. I nod, my eyes on the road in front of us.

“I’m sorry you felt this way, sun. I tried to enjoy it. It was just too much. I felt overwhelmed by all the people there. And honestly I also felt stupid” he confesses. 

“What? Why?” I ask, furrowing my brows.

“Because I feel like you don’t tell me things? I don’t know, it feels like you're always walking on eggshells around me.” he explains. I widen my eyes at his words. What is he talking about?

“I don’t know what you mean” I say defensively. He scoffs.

“Right. I feel like you don’t tell me things about your past. Why is that?” 

“Because of how you’re acting now” I raise my voice.

“And how am I acting?”

“Like you’re accusing me of something!” I snap, tears in my eyes. This is escalating way too far. And I know it’s my fault: he’s trying to explain himself while I’m being all defensive. I can’t help it. I don’t want him to change his view of me, but I feel like I’m slipping away.

“Hey, kid, calm down” he mumbles.

“Don’t call me kid.” I hate when he does that. He rests his head against the seat and closes his eyes. I watch him, scared he’s had enough of me. 

“Matt…” I whisper to get his attention. I have to explain myself as well. “Sometimes… I’m ashamed. I don’t like some things I did when I was younger, I know they were careless. I didn’t want you to think less of me if you knew” I admit. He tilts his head in that sweet way of his, a small smile on his lips. “What?” I ask, baffled. He shakes his head. 

“C’mere” he murmurs, gesturing to come closer. Slowly, I climb over the console with his help and finally rest my legs on each side of his. He holds me by my waist and pulls me closer. I let him. 

“Sun, you need to stop doing this” he says distractedly, fingers tracing my hip bone. 

“Do what?” I ask, my eyes transfixed on his long fingers. 

“Assuming things about me. Thinking I’ll get tired of you just because you never shut up” I lift my head rapidly, ready to snap at him again that if he doesn’t like my yapping, he can always leave me, but I see him grinning widely as his fingers start to tickle me. 

I snort very unlady-like and try to free myself from his grasp, failing miserably when he stops my futile attempts by kissing me. I mumble something intelligible as his lips press against mine over and over again, effectively shutting me up. I sigh into the kiss as my arms wrap around his neck, my fingers toying with his soft hair. 

His hands never stop touching me: my shoulders, my neck, my back, until they rest again on my hips, his fingertips grazing my butt.

“Sleep with me tonight” He murmurs as he trails kisses down the column of my neck, his voice husky and his warm breath making me shiver.

“You don’t really wanna sleep at yours, right, pretty girl?” he asks, biting down my shoulder gently. I let out a whine at the pet name, shaking my head slowly. 

“I thought you had enough of me for the day” I admit pathetically. He tuts and shakes his head, a smirk on his lips. “You think a lot, don’t you?” he mocks me as one of his hands trails my chest, feather-like touch making me squirm. 

“Shut up” I breathe when he finally cups one of my breasts through my top, his fingers gently tracing my erect nipple. He laughs quietly, seeing the reaction he has on me. Then, after one last kiss to my lips, he lets go of me, leaving me hot and bothered while he seems completely fine and ready to drive back to his place. I try to even my breathing as I watch him, his expression betrays his controlled demeanor. He still has that damn smirk on him, he knows I can’t wait to get home. His hand rests on my thigh, squeezing it gently every once in a while. 

“I don’t think less of you, just so you know” He breaks the silence of the car ride. I don’t say anything, my hand placed over his. “I’m serious, sun. I just wanted to hear about your past from you, not someone else.” he explains. I nod, a big weight lifting from my shoulders. 

“I’m sorry I overreacted” I answer, feeling awful that my fears overpowered me tonight, clouding my sense of judgment.

“‘s fine” he smiles, patting my thigh. He parks the car and waits for me before walking towards his front door. His brothers are probably asleep by now, but we try to be quiet anyway. He opens the door for me and as I pass by him, I feel his hand slapping my ass quickly. I turn around to tell him to stop or else his brothers will wake up but in a second he’s on me: hands on my jaw to turn my face up as his lips slot over mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth. 

He effectively shuts up every protest I had, as I blindly walk back into his house, his sure steps guiding me. If he makes me trip I’ll seriously be pissed. But he doesn’t. I don’t even realize it but we’re in his room, the door locked behind us. 

He walks me towards his bed, trying at the same time to kiss me and to take off my top. He struggles a bit and I laugh, squeaking right after when he spanks me again. “Matthew, I swear if you don’t quit it-” 

“What? I’m curious, what will you do?” he asks as he finally manages to get my top out of the way. As always, his eyes trail down to my exposed chest. It doesn’t matter how many times he sees me, he always acts like it’s the first time. I blush at his serious gaze, my hands trailing on his waist to get rid of his sweater as well. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He laughs teasingly and I scoff, my hand pushing his chest away from me. He doesn’t let me get far though as his arms lift me off the ground making me yelp. A second later, my back meets the softness of his dark sheets, him soon following after me.

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” he mumbles under his breath, making me squirm under him.

“Come here” I urge him, my arms pulling him down towards me. He lets me, his hot lips peppering my face with kisses making me giggle and turn away from him. “Stop!” my laugh turns into a whine when he presses his hips against mine, making me feel how hard he actually is and effectively changing the mood. I try to breathe normally as I spread my legs to give him room, my skirt rising up on its own accord. Matt pushes it out of the way so that my panties are on full display for his hungry gaze. 

“Let’s see...” He mumbles as his fingers trace the cotton material. He looks up at me in mock surprise. “Who made you this wet?” he asks, voice husky. 

“Bloody Santa Claus” I joke, rolling my eyes. He doesn’t smile, though, just shakes his head.

“Do I have to gag you?” He asks rhetorically. I shake my head, giggling. “Sorry, my love” he smiles softly at the pet name and moves his hand under my panties, making me gasp at the sudden gesture. My breath speeds up as his agile fingers find my clit easily, making small quick circles just the way I like it. 

I moan wantonly as I try to keep my eyes open to watch him, on his knees between my legs with his hair now messy from my fingers. His other hand slowly caresses my face, his thumb on my bottom lip, making me slightly open my mouth. I kiss his digits one by one and take his thumb in my mouth, sucking it gently and hollowing my cheeks a bit, my eyes staring directly at his.

“Fuck” He groans at the sight, one of his fingers probing at my entrance.

“‘Gotta stretch you out a bit, pretty girl” He informs me like I’m not aware of the fact I need some preparation to be able to take him. I nod furiously as his long finger enters me slowly, making me get used to the sensation before starting to move in and out of me. Soon it’s two fingers, all the while his thumb never stopped working on my clit. I grab his biceps as I try to muffle my moans of pleasure.

“Matt, please…” I whimper, eyes screwed shut as I feel the coil on my stomach grow more and more, my legs moving uncontrollably.

“What do you need?” He asks me, his lips next to my ear as he keeps his ministrations going. He’s trying to sound calm but his cock pressing up against my thigh lets me know how excited he actually is.

“You know what I need” I breathe as he pumps his fingers faster.

He furrows his brows and I can sense what he’s thinking. Before I can say anything, he stops his movements, his fingers still inside me. I whine disappointed. “Why did you stop?” I ask, trying to move my hips up to gain some friction. 

“You didn’t answer me, so I just figured I had to stop” he teases me, making me roll my eyes. He wants to hear me beg.

“Come on, my love, please” I say sweetly, lifting my head up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I need you” I pant to his ear. “I was so close” and I end it all biting his lobe, knowing this would send him to another planet. He gasps, his fingers give an involuntary thrust that makes me squeal. 

“Yeah?” He asks gruffly. I hear the sound of a zip as he shimmies his pants down his legs until he kicks them away. My hands immediately go to his hips, still covered by his boxers. One trails to the front, where his dick is hard and aching. He must be uncomfortable, restrained like that: I decide to be kind and help him, taking his cock out of its confines. Matt lets out a breath of relief as I start to steadily stroke his length. 

He slowly lowers his hips to mine and slots his cock between my folds, making me gasp when his tip hits my clit repeatedly as his hips rock back and forth. I raise my legs and interlock them behind his back, pulling him flush against me. 

“Matt, I want it” I moan breathlessly, my hands on his hair.

“Yeah? Want my cock in your pretty pussy?” he asks me, panting slightly from the stimulation. I nod furiously, not wanting to wait anymore.

“See? It was easy to admit” Before I can think of some snarky remark, he aligns his cock with my center and slowly pushes in, effectively making me forget anything I was about to say. 

I feel him stretching me out so good, and I try to relax my muscles to ease his access. Matt’s brows are furrowed in concentration. Even with our banter, he’s always very attentive not to hurt me. I smile fondly at his expression and kiss his forehead, making him halt for a moment, his eyes bright. 

“I’m so in love with you” I whimper sincerely, taken by sudden emotion. He smiles back and kisses my lips slowly, his hips starting to move. I whine into the kiss, my hips lifting up trying to be at his same pace. His arms cage me and I feel so safe, so happy to be with him, in his bed.

“You have no idea how much I adore you” He moans against my shoulder, his hips going faster and faster, making my head spin. His hand slips down to play with my clit once again, making me see stars. My legs tremble once again around him, a tell tale of the fact I’m about to cum.

“Will you come around my cock, pretty girl?” he pants as he doubles his efforts to get me there. I moan in response and he laughs, kissing my temple.

“Come on, baby, I know you’re there. Wanna feel you” he mutters, and I know he’s close as well. With one last hard thrust I feel my orgasm crash through me, my whines muffled by Matt’s mouth on mine. 

“Shit. Squeezing me so tight” he groans, and I feel his dick twitch inside me as he lets out a long moan. He stills his movements when he comes, his eyes screwed shut as I hug him tightly against my chest, praising him in his ear. He tries to even his breathing as I trace patterns on his back, and we both lay silently on his bed in complete bliss. 

Some time later he slowly pulls out of me, making me shiver slightly. He grabs a glass of water from his bedside table and offers it to me, and I gladly accept it, gulping it down. We set under the covers, his head on my chest and his arms around me. 

He laughs suddenly. “What?” I ask, confused. He smirks, looking up at me. 

“Who would have guessed the only way to shut you up was to fuck you?” He asks proudly.

“Matthew I swear to God-”

a/n: feedback is greatly appreciated! :)

[pedgito]

Hi Ali!! I love your writing and I was wondering if I can request dom Joel punishing you by riding his boot??

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒���� 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

summary | joel doesn't like gifts, you gift him new boots. [3k]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, soft dom/sub dynamic, boot-riding, degradation kink, unprotected piv, one (1) face slap, porn with absolutely no plot.

author’s note | original working title for this was new boot goofin' because i can't take myself seriously, idk what this is but enjoy. kel (@beskarandblasters) suggested the actual title for this so thank you babe ♡

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic recs

Three things about Joel you were intensely sure of—he was a strong lover. He loved hard and he cared even harder, always willing to put your needs before his own, even to an unhealthy degree in some cases. Two, he liked to be in charge. With his willingness to put you before him, it also lended him to enjoy the role of being dominant in the right situations. He kept a lot of himself locked up around everyone but you. Through the few years you two have become close and started this relationship—if you could call it that—there’s a solid understanding of each other’s needs. He provides the domineering nature you crave and you subdued yourself to him willingly when he puts the facade on.

At first, it never left the bedroom. You both enjoyed the disguise of the dynamics to make things flow easier, not allow things to stall out so quickly and you had all the proper safety precautions in place to allow you both the happiness you seeked out. But, as most things in your life, they seeped through the cracks and bled out, intermingling with the rest of your daily life.

Sometimes it was just a look when you’d say something in public that was indecent or a comment that made Joel’s face go hot, knowing that despite his openness in public, he was still a very private man. He reserved that side for you and only you. And he did so much for you—not just around Jackson, but in your own home. With him being the lead guy for patrols and having such a…special relationship with him, it lended for more leniency when you weren’t feeling great or needed a break from the hectic energy that patrolling liked to suffocate people with, always on the brink of danger. And Joel was always too handy for his own good—always finding a reason to fix up a broken something in your own small house on the outskirts of Jackson. 

Broken pipe? Fixed. Chair broken? Joel could shape you out a new one in a couple weeks.

Last week he had repainted then entirety of your kitchen cabinets because he thought they were looking a little dull—as if they weren’t run down from years of abandonment and like this wasn’t the fucking apocalypse. Despite that, you felt the urge to thank Joel. And not just thank him.

Properly. With a gift.

But—oh. Third thing, Joel hated gifts.

Despised them.

But, you weren’t always the best listener or rule follower.

A patrol with Tommy had you both scheming up an idea when you bring up the option of gifting something to Joel as a proper offering of appreciation, his hand resting loosely on the rifle slung around his chest, fingers tapping against the butt. 

“Well—you know, there’s a clothing store a few miles east,” Tommy tells you, “Ellie and I found it when we cleared out that hoard a few months back—lotsa clothes and shoes, mostly untouched. We could check that out? I need to grab a few things myself anyways.”

You nod easily, “Yeah—that pair he has is falling apart. It drives me insane.”

“Joel doesn’t like to let go of things easily,” Tommy comments broadly, “He’ll make do with what he’s got until it falls apart.”

“Well, he doesn’t take no for an answer when I tell him to stop helpin’ me so he’s gonna have to suck it up just this once.” You smile slightly, earning a soft chuckle from Tommy.

You hoped it would go over well—because Joel did need new boots and there was little harm in an innocent gift…right?

–

Joel is brimming with an energy that only accompanied him after long patrols, the ones that lasted a few days and kept him away. Away from his home, away from you. He doesn’t even attempt the trek toward his own house, rather taking the first right and beelining for your small house at the end of the neighborhood, squeezing his leather covered hands into fists.

He’s anxious, pent up—not with anger or rage, but just a need to release some built up stress. Fortunately, he knew the perfect way to do that. His boots squeak against the hardwood of your front deck, the tattered rubber around the toe of his boot hanging on by a thread as he kicks it gently into the base of the door softly, idle as he busies his mind and prays that you’re still awake.

You’ve been waiting for him all day, his gift hidden away safely as you yank the door open excitedly, nearly tripping over your own pair of haphazardly thrown shoes on the floor.

Joel lets out a soft oof as he catches you, chuckling at your bright and beaming smile.

“Someone’s excited,” Joel chides playfully, though his voice is gruff. He sounds tired, looks it too, “been missin’ me, baby?”

You nod immediately, “So much,” You press a gentle kiss to his lips as he kicks the front door closed with his foot, slowly removing his layers—thick coat falling first, then his thinner jacket he wore underneath to leave him in a thick thermal, his skin still prickling with the winter chill but quickly warming underneath your touch, “everything go okay?”

“Yeah—just a bad storm comin’ in,” Joel explains, ignoring how distracted you were, allowing the soft pecks to his skin as you pulled away, slowly inserting yourself into his line of sight, mischievous grin plastered across your face, “—what are you up to, darlin’?

“Got a surprise for you,” You tease playfully, feeling his thick, calloused fingers slip under the thin material of your shirt, subconsciously seeking some contact with you, “can you go sit on the couch and close your eyes?”

Joel didn’t take too well to surprises, but he trusts you. So, he nods quietly, though there’s a slight hesitance to him as he takes a seat on the couch, slowly unlacing his boots in your absence to relieve some pressure but not taking them off completely, the tongue of the boot hanging lifelessly over his even more pathetic looking laces.

He can hear your soft footsteps as they approach, bare feet against the wood flooring as the couch dips slightly and he feels something hard and solid pressed into his hands.

“Okay, open ‘em,” You tell him gently, watching as he blinks his eyes open, expression mostly unchanging—it wasn’t unlike him to have little reaction, but it did worry you slightly, “—surprise?”

Okay, terrible idea. Got it.

“Darlin’,” God, you’ve heard that tone before, body tensing slightly, “I thought I told you I don’t need nothin’ in return from you.”

“Joel—you’re constantly helping me,” You argue softly, “it’s the least I could do. Plus, you need a new pair.”

“That’s not the point,” Joel tells you, “I do that stuff ‘cause I like knowin’ you’re comfortable, that you don’t have anything to worry about while I’m away.”

“And I worry about you too,” You interject quickly, “Joel—it’s just a gift, it’s okay.”

Joel places them on the table in front of him silently, contemplating thoughtfully.

He’s made it clear on several occasions that he doesn’t like things in return. That he does these things without the expectation of anything in return, but he appreciates the gesture. Joel isn’t used to people caring for him and it feels odd to allow it. And he sees the nervous energy inside of you brimming, like you’ve made a bad choice and you deserve the punishment.

 Almost begged for it. 

Your fists curl nervously in your lap, waiting for any sign that Joel had to offer.

And when he doesn’t respond, you find yourself curling into him out of instinct. Thighs spreading out over his lap as his hands follow the trail from your knees, up your thighs, until his thumbs are settling in the crease of your pelvis. You attempt a gentle kiss, but he’s reluctant to return it.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask quietly, a genuine curiosity in your voice.

Joel shakes his head slightly, but the hand guiding its way around your neck tells a different story, his fingertips rubbing against the softness of your jawline, forcing you to look at him properly.

“Nothin’ wrong, but I do think I need to remind you of somethin’,” Joel explains in a soft, but demeaning tone, “that when I tell you I can provide for you and don’t need anything in return—that I mean that.”

You wait with baited breath, blinking rapidly at how hot his breath feels against your skin, feeling your cunt throb with need, with an insatiable want for him.

“And since you wanna buy me a new pair of boots—well,” Joel chuckles darkly, feeling your fingers tighten into the thick fabric of his thermal, “you’re gonna have to help me break ‘em in.”

You look at him, perplexed. But, his pupils dilate under your gaze, the subtle shifting as he kicks off his old, tattered boots as nods subtly to the new pair behind you.

You sigh breathily, “Huh—Oh, you want me to—”

“Ride my boot, baby,” He tells you clearly, “Seein’ as it is my gift and all.”

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as you slipped from his lap, table skidding back deftly in the process—you grab for the new pair of work boots but Joel is quickly grabbing your face again, squeezing your cheeks sharply.

“Undress first.” Joel says, waiting for your nod of acknowledgement before he lets you go.

So, you do—layer by layer until you reach your bra, unhooking it with nimble fingers as he slips on his new boots. If this were anyone else, you would feel ridiculous. But, with Joel, there was something there, brewing on the surface. He respected you, but he also needed you to understand.

It was a little humiliating, but it wasn’t the worst thing.

Your fingers edge along the hem of your underwear when Joel stops your hands, “Keep those on.” He utters, his fingers dragging softly against the front of the cotton material until he’s cupping your pussy in his palm, soft wet spot growing in the fabric where his fingertips drag across—you’re enjoying this, clearly.

You lower yourself slowly, straddling his left leg with your knees tucked against the bottom of the couch he sat on, pressing your cunt against the cold leather of his steel-toed boot.

Joel relaxes then, arms spread wide over the back of the couch, fingers gripping loosely into the cushion. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart.” Joel comforts, sensing your brimming nervousness as your fingers trailed along his calf, the hard press of his boot right against your core and if you tried hard enough, it wouldn’t take long at all—knowing that even just a little bit of encouragement from Joel and friction could have you coming undone. But, he wants you to work for it.

You start slow, a subtle grind of your hips that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You sigh softly at the relief, noticing the slowly growing smirk on Joel’s face that you’re trying to avoid, eyes falling shut slowly as you tip your head back, allowing a slow rhythm to start.

“Feels good?” Joel wonders, “Like the idea of me carryin’ somethin’ of you around with me?”

In more ways than one—by a simple gift from the kindness of your heart, but also the desperation of the slick that damped your underwear and painted a perfect mess over his boot.

You nod quietly, moaning softly as you angle your hips to allow the drag of your clit over the solidness of the boot, friction sending your eyes rolling back in your head, hands fisting into the thick denim and selfishly using it for leverage as you quickened your pace. 

“That’s right, baby—want you to think about coming all over my boot for me,” Joel encourages, “can you do that?”

Truthfully, you were holding back. Seeing just how much you could get out of him.

But, Joel catches onto your game.

“You need a little encouragement?” Joel asks curiously, chin cupped in his strong grip, nodding obediently. “Think you deserve that, baby?”

“Please—please, Joel.” You beg, “Fuck—please, I’ll do—”

“Don’t say anything, darlin’.” He warns, “Not when you don’t know what that means for you.”

He keeps your eyes locked on his, squeezing your cheeks gently when you start to fade, the slowly building tingle in your core that wasn’t as easily ignorable now, coiled in your belly and ready to explode. You lose yourself for a brief second, hand fisting into the slack bunch of denim atop his thigh, earning a dull but stern slap to your cheek to bring your attention back to him.

“Eyes on me, baby,” Joel coos, fisting the hard line of his cock under the strained denim with his free hand, looking slightly pained at how much he was holding back himself, “look at you—always eager to please, huh?”

You roll your eyes slightly—and Joel really doesn’t like that. His hand cradling the base of your neck as he holds you still, body pulled just centimeters away from his boot, leaving your pussy throbbing with a lack of contact that your body craved.

“Now you just look a little pathetic, don’t you?” Joel asks, “All needy for my fuckin’ boot—got her beggin’ for it, don’t I?” And you know he’s not addressing you directly, rather the pool of your own slick, shiny wetness on the toe of his boot that gives you away.

 He nudges it against your clit gently, earning a soft whine as you hips instinctively seek for friction—Joel takes a slightly more firmer stance, head cradling both of his hands as he holds you prisoner in his gaze, two thick fingers slipping into your open mouth and grinning at how pathetically and greedily you suck on the digits without having to be told, removing them with a loud pop and a thin string of spit that connects you to him.

And if he was a stronger man, he could hold off. But, he’s so weak around you he can’t even hide it. He lets go in an instant, reaching for the front of his own jeans as he shoves them down his hips until he can manage to slip his cock out over his underwear, fisting himself in an instant.

Staving himself on patrols was torture when all he could think about was you—so he knows it won’t take much. Hell, he’s surprised with how long he’s been able to hold off now.

You admire with a haughty gaze, slowly resting back against the base of his boot, watching his free hand slip under his heavy sack, massaging as he jerks his fist without much rhythm, blinded by his own selfish need for release.

“Keep goin’,” He encourages through a tight breath, “but don’t fuckin’ come, darlin’.”

Your hole clenches and flutters around nothing, wishing that it was his cock stuffed inside of you rather than the plane of his boot pressed against your pussy, the thickness of his fingers alongside the girthiness of his cock a blatant reminder of how deeply you felt him in the mornings and even days after, always fucked so throughly it had you reeling and constantly crawling back for more.

He jerks himself selfishly, eyes falling shut as he feels himself dragging too close to the edge, your moans gaining in intensity, knowing how pathetic you would both look to anyone else. But, there was no one to judge you here—and Joel was beyond feeling the need to be assertive, rather just needing you, to be inside you and have you snug around him and crying on his cock.

Joel pulls you out of your daze hastily, manhandling you until you’re back is flat against the couch, quickly shoving his jeans down far enough that they don’t become a hindrance as he pulls your underwear aside and slips inside of you with a solid push of his hips, the slickness of your cunt allowing no resistance as you both groan at how good it feels, eyes connecting for a brief moment before everything goes black…or white. 

Joel isn’t sure what he sees, but it only takes a few minutes of some hurried and desperate pumps of his hips as his cock nudges that particular spot deep inside of you that has you clawing at the bare skin you could reach, leaving red marks on his neck as he snaps his hips with a finality, coming with a low groan that has your legs shaking, bent nearly in half as he still manages to see through his own haze and drag his fingers over your clit—it doesn’t take more than a couple seconds before you're there, spasming around his cock with a sob, gasping at his overstimulating touch as he continues to press and circle your clit until you’re begging him to stop, his hips slowly pumping his cum inside of you.

Joel finds himself laying slack against you, pants down at his ankles as he allows your fingers to thread through his grown out curls from where his head rests against your chest, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“I appreciate the boots,” He says after a while, “if that wasn’t already obvious.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” You giggle softly.

“Seriously, no more gifts, though.” Joel says sternly, “I mean it.”

You pout slightly and Joel catches it, his eyes flicking up to look at you.

“I’m makin’ no promises to that.” You tell him truthfully.

Joel chuckles softly, “Can’t say I expected you to, either.”

[lornaka]

My five cents on Tech’s fate in TBB

It’s been over three weeks since the show ended and I’ve been writing this in my head ever since, mostly to have it summed up in one post for posterity lol. I considered letting it go at this point but I know it’ll drive me crazy if I don’t get it out of my system so might as well.

So here we go, some of my rambly post-finale thoughts on Tech’s death (and a few other issues) under the cut!

Disclaimer: while this post is in critical spirit (because that’s how my brain works), I want to make clear that I have nothing but respect and gratitude towards everyone who’s worked on the show. My criticisms are of the final story as a whole as I interpret it (art is art, everything is subjective, you know the drill), but one never knows what goes into the process of making it behind the scenes, so I’m not holding anything against the creative team. I love this show dearly and am in awe of how good it is at its best, despite certain things I wish they did differently.

To begin, if I had to sum up the biggest problem that TBB writing suffers from, it would be lack of closure, and too many red herrings. Not just for Tech, but many things. Major plot threads as well as little character moments are cultivated or thrown in just to never culminate in anything or to be immediately discarded after serving the plot, some of them incredibly misleading. Some of the top examples:

- Crosshair’s chip. We never get an exploration of how the trauma of his chip activating and being left behind not only affected his motivation and choice to stay with the Empire, but his relationship with his brothers. While it was made fairly obvious, if subtly, that Crosshair became free of the chip’s influence after getting hit by the ion engine on Bracca, the narrative treated this change as if it didn’t matter at that point, while it obviously mattered a lot within the context of Crosshair’s character. Add to that all these little details with him clutching his head in s1 finale, Omega expressing her disappointment in him, and Tech’s comment on how “it is just his nature” (as if it matters!!! See what I mean about the narrative treating Cross’s chip as if it didn’t play the key part in his trajectory? They throw in this line, like we are supposed to take away that it’s simply Crosshair being Crosshair and not like, the results of brainwashing and abandonment), Wrecker blaming Crosshair for not going back to them, all while we as the audience have been shown and told repeatedly how these chips work (and so were the Batch), we ended up with an incredibly confusing situation with lots of mixed signals from the writers. And once Crosshair makes his choice to stay with the Empire in s1 finale, his chip and the confusion it brought to his relationship with his brothers is never brought up again, because the plot simply moves on.

- Cid’s betrayal. After her being a major character for two seasons with a continuous relationship build-up with Omega in particular, she is discarded as soon as her betrayal serves the plot, with all that character development getting thrown out of the window. You can be mad at Cid all you want, but to me it’s incredibly weird and wasteful to end two seasons worth of build up on that note without it having any closure for the characters, especially Omega whose whole theme is trusting people and bringing out the best in them. It’s fine if they decided to make Cid exactly what she appeared on the surface (untrustworthy and self-serving) after playing around with her potentially growing through her fondness of Omega, but then at the very least the betrayal should’ve had an impact on the characters, Omega most of all. Even just one casual line from Omega in s3 about how Cid’s betrayal impacted her emotionally, however minimally, would have solved that problem. And no, CX-2 mentioning how he extracted info on Phee from her off screen absolutely doesn’t count as closure, because I’m talking about emotional closure for the main pov characters as well as the audience. Cid had a presence for two seasons, then as soon as she executed her role as a traitor to further the plot, she was discarded like she was a random extra.

- Emerie’s relationship with Hemlock. We are led to believe that he basically raised her, instilling in her the idea that she had no chance without him and owed her purpose and “safety” to him. You can’t tell me that this didn’t deeply affect her struggle and eventual decision to break away from all that and choose to help the kids, basically betraying Hemlock. I get that the show only had so much screen time and Emerie is a supporting character in season 3 at best, but common, she has more tension with Dr. Scalder than Hemlock while the potential for this rich deep conflict between them is right there.

I can probably list more smaller examples but this is getting long and I don’t want to go on any more tangents, so, finally, the biggest example of lack of closure and tendency of TBB writing to display foreshadowing that leads nowhere:

Tech’s death.

First of all, I’ll die on the hill that it wasn’t denial or delusion that led to such a big portion of the audience to believe that Tech didn’t really die in s2. If we look at the facts:

- there was no body

- it’s the finale of season 2 out of 3, pretty early for one of the main titular characters to get killed off

- the only/last character to allegedly see Tech after his fall is a villainous scientist who is known to experiment on clones specifically

- not a fact but: the whole scene with Hemlock presenting Tech’s goggles to Hunter was incredibly suspicious. In hindsight, I think the whole purpose of it was so that the Batch got Tech’s goggles back in their possession as a memento (and to show how evil Hemlock is to rub it into Hunter’s face like that) but it was executed in a way that read as something much more. It read as if Hemlock was going out of his way to convince us/Hunter of Tech’s death, but with us knowing who Hemlock is, his background in experimenting on clones, everything screams at us to not trust a word he says. Is it really so surprising that so many of the viewers immediately jumped at the conclusion that something more was going on there?

- Hunter’s (lack of) reaction/immediate narrative fall-out. More on that later as I address lack of emotional impact of Tech’s death in s3.

- it’s Star Wars. And there was no body.

So yeah, to me, it is completely justified that so many people read that whole thing as open to speculation at the very least, foreshadowing Tech’s survival at most.

Personally, I was 70% sure Tech was truly dead prior to s3, but not because the text told me so, but because at that point I was used to the show’s writing regularly sending out mixed signals, and a part of me was resigned to Tech’s death becoming another example of the writer’s intent clashing with their accidental empty foreshadowing.

As season 3 aired and the whole CX-2 plot was unfolding alongside continued lack of closure for Tech’s fate, my hope for Tech Lives reveal grew and grew, but in the end my initial doubt was proven right, unfortunately.

Oh, CX-2.. what a mess. You can’t tell me the creators went over all of these scenes, all of these lines, looked at the whole picture and *didn’t* see how it was incredibly easy to interpret CX-2 as potentially being Tech with all these little potential parallels. “Domicile” alone.

If they didn’t want us to entertain the idea that it could be Tech, they could’ve done it differently, but for some reason, they chose to leave that space for speculation. My question is, why?

If they truly wanted us to believe Plan 99 was it, Tech’s Noble End that we were supposed to take as this dramatic super emotional ultimate sacrifice and all that, then why would they not make it clear that CX-2 couldn’t be Tech? Why breed confusion? And breed confusion they did. It’s hard for me to believe they didn’t foresee the “ohh is it Tech?” speculation.

When so many members of the audience immediately and individually jump at a theory or have the same take away from the story they are being told, yet the authors say it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, something went seriously wrong with the writing.

I don’t like to speculate on such things because we will probably never know for certain, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they had at some point considered CX-2 being Tech or at least something more for the whole CX plot thread, but changed and reshuffled things at the last minute for whatever reasons.

Which is fine and understandable. But it brings me to the heart of my biggest issue with how Tech’s fate was handled:

lack of impact and closure.

Let’s disregard all the Tech Lives theories for a moment and focus on what we did get: Tech, one of the main characters, getting killed off at the end of s2 out of 3, for stakes and consequences and NOTHING else. When I say nothing, I mean nothing.

Imagine, for a moment, he survived and stayed with the Batch. Nothing would have changed, in the grand scheme of things. Nothing. We wouldn’t have had a few obligatory “Tech mention, everyone feel sad now” throwaway lines/goggle shots and whatnot, sure, but that’s it.

Tech dying didn’t change the trajectory of the plot in any way, nor did it affect any of the other characters in a way that changed their trajectory. And anything less is simply not enough to justify killing one of your main characters. Stakes and consequences ain’t it.

Consider Mayday, for example: a supporting character, but his death in s2 affected Crosshair in such a way it completely redirected his journey, AND in s3 we got an episode that cemented the impact Mayday had on Crosshair and provided emotional closure for them. That’s a narratively meaningful death.

Tech’s death was not meaningful to the narrative beyond removing him from it. That’s why so many Tech fans insist he deserved better treatment: not only was he not present in one third of the show physically, but he lacked any sort of presence even in death. His absence was never processed or grieved by any of the main characters and so by extension by the audience.

And before anyone starts with the whole ‘they are soldiers/they had no time to grieve/etc’ arguments, it is the responsibility of the writers to provide the space for all of that emotional impact. It they don’t, there is no impact.

A few reactions here and there, moments of missing Tech as a person and a brother, not an asset, anything would have made this whole thing easier to accept.

The lines that we did get, from Omega mentioning the stuff Tech taught her to Echo commenting on how decryption would be easier if Tech was with them to “Clone Force 99 died with Tech” from Crosshair - each and every single one of those lines linked to Tech’s functions as part of the squad, his usefulness, but we didn’t get a single line in remembrance of him as a person of his own, no one missed or remembered him for himself or his personal impact on them.

Just one line from Omega about how he taught her about change being a constant part of life or whatever, or Wrecker making a comment on how Tech used to info dump about stuff, anything would have instantly provided that much needed sense of “he was here, he was a person and is still a part of us”. Instead, Tech was killed off to show that messing with the Empire is dangerous and risks are real, I guess, and immediately lost any and all presence within the story.

We never even got to see Crosshair’s or Phee’s reactions to losing him.

Speaking of Crosshair, that’s a whole other example of complete lack of closure: they never closed the loop on the family being reunited again after initially leaving Crosshair behind, and with Tech dead, it’ll forever stay broken.

They could’ve given this a bittersweet yet meaningful spin if they developed the angle of Tech dying on a mission to bring Crosshair home, making a sacrifice so Crosshair had a chance.

Instead, the moment Tech dies, we get Hunter (and through him, the narrative) immediately abandon the idea/plot thread of going to rescue Cross all while saying “let’s not waste Tech’s sacrifice”. Sacrifice for what? Clearly Hunter doesn’t see it as a sacrifice for Crosshair’s sake, so, what, to make sure the rest of them makes it from the mission? The mission to save Crosshair. That mission. Right.

I see people talking about Tech’s noble sacrifice that ensured his family got to live and eventually have their happy ending, but all I can think about is how the creators chose to have him die on a mission that was immediately abandoned and the only take away from that whole sub plot was Tech’s own demise.

And after Crosshair is back with the Batch, his reaction to Tech’s death is never explored at all.

So yes, to me Tech deserved so much better. If you are going to kill off a major character, it must be necessary to be compelling. The way I see it, Tech’s death was not necessary at all because it didn’t change anything. And if it was meant to, the creators failed to communicate that by choosing not to explore the emotional impact of it and not structuring certain story beats in a more precise manner.

To wrap this up, if the way Tech’s death was handled was satisfying for you, that’s valid and I’m glad for you. For me, unfortunately, it’s completely the opposite and will forever remain the biggest and most unfortunate low point in the story.

And while I welcome anyone to share their own perspective if they wish, please don’t take this post as an invitation for debate, since there is no one right or wrong way to interpret or be affected by art.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

Interlude of Jealous Desires

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader x Tormund Giantsbane

Length: 16.8k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, allusions to past rape, smut, outdoor sex, exhibitionism, jealousy and possessive tendencies, oral (f and m receiving), p in v, anal, f/m/m threesome (no m/m interactions), soft dom/sub dynamics

Notes: Tormund will not become a love interest or a consistent participant in Jon and the Readers relationship, his interest is much more casually physical. Takes place during as of yet unpublished chapters, but there are no actual spoilers for any future plot. Can mostly be read as a one shot, but the story does canonically take place in Heart of the Great Wolf.

It was turning into an obsession. What started as a fleeting jealousy, turned into a strange new desire that grew inside him until it burned bright into a need. But he didn't know why at first. Jon had been jealous before. Jealous about many things but he knew a lot were about you. 

He was jealous of how much time in your previous years in Winterfell you would spend working alongside Theon, when Jons duties were further away. He was jealous how he had to spend time with you entirely alone, just to be able to even hold your hand. Jealous that Robb would always be the one to escort you to feasts or events, because it wasn't appropriate that a bastard walked you arm in arm to your seat. 

But this was new. This kind of jealousy was one he never really had before. Part of him felt it a bit, knowing you were thousands of miles away from him married to Robb, but he didn't have to stand there and watch you two so consistently. Didn't have to see the look in his brothers eyes watching you. But he did have to stand there and see that wanting look shine in a different pair of blue eyes. 

Jon knew if he could, Tormund would've taken you for himself. It was obvious early on and it never really went away. He just respected Jon enough not to do anything about it. He would watch, and wink, and flirt and pull you close with an arm around your shoulder, though it never pushed a line that was too far. 

But it made Jon seethe all the same. 

Maybe once upon a time the insecurity would've hit, but the jealousy wasn't about that anymore. Jon was confident in what you two had now. There was an intensity between he and you that was impossible to tame, and he could rest easy knowing you both wanted each other deeply. But he was jealous that being so open with you came easy. That Tormund wouldn't hesitate to joke and smirk and flirt with you, when Jon thought he was bordering on too bold just kissing you in front of other people.

What started as a jealousy of the ease you had with one of his closest friends, turned to a strange taboo of wanting to fuck you out in the open, so whoever just so happened to walk by, could see what he did to you and now it all led here. Fighting against a possessiveness in his head, he wanted this, but he also hated it. 

Part of him felt guilty, he knew how you would react but Jon also was fairly certain he could gently coax you into it. You put a lot of trust in Jons hands during sex and that wasn't about to change now, but he also knew it sometimes was easier to come at you with a plan already in place instead of simple asking. 

He knew what you had been through, and he knew he Would never overstep what he knew were your limits, especially since you yourself didn't necessarily know those limits if asked. 

You technically were more experienced then Jon now. Once at the same level together, you surpassed him in marriage, as he was well aware Robb had experience. Spent enough time around groups of girls Robb used to be involved with and Jon learned quickly his brother clearly had a healthy drive for women. Then Robb married you and Jon only got hints in visions that you knew more of sex then Jon did. 

By the time you returned to him, the only experience Jon had was..well it was forced on him, and that was the end of him wanting to think about that. 

But you didn't go from just marriage to here, no. Things happened in between and now while you still were more experienced then Jon was, it fell into his responsibility to ensure you were safe the whole time. 

It all led here, Jon approaching a certain figure as he was leaned against the landing overlooking the training yard of Winterfell. Knowing what exact details he had been going over again and again in his head to ensure no room for mistakes would be left. But, perhaps it helped, that he trusted Tormund, and maybe that's why he was the only person in existence Jon would ever go to about this.

He could at the least, trust Tormund wouldn't hurt your mind or body. So, after a week of obsessing over it in the dark of night, Jon came to Tormund's side that afternoon. 

Both men looking out to the yard as Jons eyes naturally found yours, trying to navigate what you were doing around a young one vying for your attention. But you so easily let yourself be distracted by the little one. You did so for many of the younger children of the free folk, you had always been good at that. You spent years on and off, helping raise all of Jons younger siblings, and you once had Shireen too. You were easier going and smiled more with children then adults, and Jon loved that. 

So talking about you in such a filthy way as he watched you pick the little one up into your arms with a playful shout, it made Jon feel like a bit shameful. But as he spoke, arms crossed over his front with a low roughness, the second it was out there he couldn't not follow through to the end. 

“You want her.” 

Raising an eyebrow, Tormund slowly formed almost an amused expression as he and Jon kept their eyes both on the same person. “There a question in there, Snow?” 

But Jon didn't look his way, just at you and how bright your rare smile shined, even from up where he stood. “No. The way you look at her, talk about her, I know you want her.” His jaw clenched somewhat, a bit of, not quite jealousy, but something frustrated pooled out. “Lots of men want her. Hard not to, she's beautiful, smart, knows how to take care of herself.” 

“She's also quiet and sweet which is why you're so fucking sappy about her.” Both men smirked with a bit of a chuckle. No denying such a fact there. “And you're so damn territorial, I don't know why you haven't tried throwing me out of this place. Considering if you never came back, maybe I'd be the one fucking her good at night.” 

They had reached the point Tormund could make such a joke and Jon wouldn't take offence, but he didn't laugh, nor smirk. Instead a darker tint fell into his grey eyes as his face sat more like stone as hesitated before almost hissing it out. “What if I let you?” Tormund finally turning to look more at him but Jon didn't face his way yet. “What if I let you fuck her?” 

“Why would you do that?” 

Inhaling deeply, Jon barley could take his eyes from you. As if he had to be watching you to make sure what he was saying always had your best interest in mind. “You wouldn't be alone with her, I'd be there the whole time.” 

He figured the man could live with that, but he knew he was about to have to find the words to back himself up as Tormund smirked, looking back at you. “Little crow wants to watch another man take his woman, is that it?” 

But Jon said no. Short and almost angry as he inhaled and exhaled deeply to will his heart beat down once more. “At first I was only going to make you watch me fuck her. Knew you wanted her, I'd make you sit in the room and watch me take her apart all night, but you wouldn't be happy just watching.” Jons voice lowering even more as if a true secret, “And neither would I.”

Leaning against the wood railing, Tormund appeared far more casual and aloof then what the subject between the men was about. “Would be cruel making a man just watch.”

The agitations sat deep in his chest, but Jon knew it was something he would have to live with in order to follow through with this. He wanted this only slightly more then he hated the idea of sharing you with him, or anyone. “I'd have rules.” Tormund nodded, and Jon leaned forward to rest his forearms against the railing as the other man currently did. “You break any of them, do anything she doesn't like or want, or hurt her in any way-”

Tormund smirked, “Kill me, stab me, toss me in a dungeon. Got it. Your girl, your rules. What about hers?” Nodding to you, currently blissfully unaware as you stood in the yard chatting with Maege Mormont, one hand constantly moving to entertain the child you held, who almost tried turning getting your attention into a game. 

But Jon knew the way you'd look at him, the way you would cling to him when it was all over and even the moments Jon would take you hard and fast in the middle of the day you always held onto him a little tighter just before returning to the world. His heart sunk more into his chest, you put so much trust in him and Jon took every bit of it more seriously then any other. The worst thing in his mind would be to hurt you in any capacity similar to what you suffered through at Ramsay Boltons hands.

“Whatever she wants. But she won't have any.” Tormund glanced to him with a curiosity but it was much clearer that time around that it wasn't just lust bringing Jon to this idea, he was trusting Tormund with something important. “She'll do whatever she thinks you want. Means I need you to listen to what I say, beacuse she won't be confident enough to say no.” 

The two men stood for a little while going back and forth, finally coming to an agreement, and Jon knew there were a few more details to iron out before they parted ways. “You can't cum inside her.” Tormund did nothing but listen, thankfully as Jon lowly muttered out some of his own hard limits. “You can anywhere on her, or down her throat. But nowhere else. I don't care how close you are, you pull out of her, or I'll kick you out then and there.” 

To his credit, Tormund only smirked. In his own mind, he had no problems with Jons rules but it was amusing to him how stern and aggressive he spat them out with while his eyes were somehow soft while watching you from afar. “Anything else?” 

Exhaling deeply, Jon lowered his tone a bit more. “There's something I need you to do. Tonight.” 

You remembered the early days of your time in Winterfell. Late afternoons turned into evenings where you wanted to be away from people in relative quiet and many times you would end up in the small sept with your back against the wall. Legs sat in front of you as you made your way through whatever book found its way into you hands that time. It was always quiet, and you knew the few who visited would come at specific days and times. Meaning you would always be left in a peaceful quiet. 

It felt a tad ironic at the time. Many of your days on Dragonstone were spent finding new and inventive ways to avoid your septa. Septa Moelle in a way fit right in with the company on the island. A wrinkled face that was sharp as an axe, face always twisted in perpetual disapproval with eyes narrowed in stern suspicion and you suspected she hated you as much as you hated her. 

It was easier at first, you spent half of your lessons with her and half with Maester Cressen, and so it didn't leave her much time to sniff out what she disapproved of. Cressen was always far more kind to you, and understood your more difficult moments. 

He hadn't been a fan of Dragonstone as a place to live but he also had lived many years in Storms End previously. He was the Maester there and helped raise the Baratheon brothers, especially after your grandfather and grandmothers passing. Stannis wasn't as charming or wild as Robert and Renly and it left your father as his favourite, making the older mans fondness for you just as natural. 

When you had returned from Winterfell the first time, he was eager to build on what you had learned there and enjoyed that you were able to open up more now. Septa Moelle, was not. She got along with you far less after that. And every time you came back from Winterfell it got worse. 

She would call you difficult, scold you every time she thought you spoke out of turn, say that the Stark boys were teaching you to act like an animal. She was not unlike your mother in such a way during your more difficult years growing up. 

You had been pressed up against a wall listening to your mother speak to your father over their late supper, about Septa Moelle's complaints that you had not shown up for your embroidery lessons again. “She's a stubborn little beast.” 

Your father was quick as he was dismissive, barley looking to his wife and saying, “She's a child.” 

Shaking her head, your mother had her own exasperated tone. “You barley know her. You think because she smiles and listens the days you have her, that makes her sweet. She's sullen, and stubborn, and sinful. We need to stop sending her North.” 

You had felt the urge in your heart to burst into the room and protest, but you also knew you would only get lectured for spying on their conversation. Your father had yet still to change his dismissive tone. “Lord Stark has been a good influence on her education. And it's the only place our daughter has been able to befriend children her age.” 

Selyse shook her head with a dismissive huff of a doubtful tone. “They are a bad influence, nothing more. She shouldn't be spending so much time around boys at this age. It should worry you as well.” Your father asking what specifically should worry him, and you recalled at the time not having a clue what they were talking about. “How old will those boys be soon? Thirteen? Fourteen? Do you really wish for our daughter to spend so much of her young years around these Northern boys verging on men? Septa Moelle already has expressed that it might be prudent to start ensuring her maidenhood is in tact when she returns-”

Your father clearly grew impatient, voice raising. Not to anything close to a yell, but on a man quiet like him, the slight raise was with enough of a tone that it may as well echoed throughout the entire island. “Do you think Eddard Stark is a man raising his sons to violate a young girl, a ward, that we have repeatedly trusted in his care?” Your mother didn't say anything, but you could imagine she was tilting her head with a flatly expressed plead for him to listen to her, which he didn't. “I will not have her septa checking to ensure she is innocent just because you two disapprove of their company. Her attitude is one thing, Selyse. But it is another to say that they've done anything to her. She's more likely to be influenced negatively just being around Allard then she is the Stark boys.” 

That almost made you laugh. Allard was once Stannis's squire, and now was part of your household guard, normally assigned to watch you. He was rash and vocal about deeds you would listen to in as much shock as entertainment. He, each time you sailed North, had been there to accompany you. Telling you of the girlfriends he had in Oldtown, Kings Landing and Bravvos. He would laugh at your shocked expression and jest that were he and his father to have remained smugglers, his father said he'd likely have one day ended up sentenced to the Wall. “Now that's a worse punishment then I could ever imagine, tiny doe.” 

You had asked why and he didn't elaborate. Later when you had brought it up to Maester Cressen, he had laughed himself as he promoted you to continue the lesson he had you writing out. “If you don't know what that means, then I think we can assure Lady Selyse that the Stark boys are nowhere near as a threat as she worries.” He had then told you men of the Nights Watch would take no wives and father no children which is what Allard was referring too, and he almost laughed more at how you almost were more confused. 

“Why would he be thinking about girls like that when at the Wall? He would have more important things to think about.” 

Cressen rose an eyebrow at you, knowing it would pass you by. “If memories of what Robert was like growing up tell me anything, girls would be the only thing that boy would be thinking about.” 

But then you were older, hiding away for quiet in a little sept. Lighting a candle before The Maiden with the thought that if you were going to be here anyways, you may as well be honest about which of the gods would have issue with your actions most. 

It was different now, though. You felt no call to the sept, nor Seven. Especially not in the snows of winter. Now you would some days find yourself in the godswood by the Weirwood. You did not have obligations to the old gods in your words, prayers, or even actions as if always to be guilty. You could stand amongst them, and know they understood you were doing your best. Wondering who could see you here, what they were trying to say as the cold winds blew through your hair. 

Only, the ones which could see you were not quite that of the gods you thought you were speaking too,  and not knowing more then one pair of eyes was watching. 

“Hiding from me are you?” Your head turning quickly to the side only to relax at the sight of Jon approaching. You couldn't help but wonder how he wasn't cold. Not dressed anywhere near as layered or warm as he should, but somehow still managing to look cozier then yourself. Stepping back, your eyes glanced up to the red of the leaves before looking back to the snow and night. 

A small half smirk creeping it's way on to your features. “Actually, I was thinking about what a bad influence you have been on me.” Jons head tilting back in amused question as he repeats you, a smirk forcing itself off your face to remain impassive as you turn to face him. “If I recall I was an innocent girl before you came along and ruined all that.” 

His eyes narrowed a little, arms crossing over his chest. “And how did I do that, exactly? Remind me.” 

Just as he came a little too close, you sensed his ploy, and twisted and ducking under where he moved quick to grab you. Flipping around to face him with your eyebrows raised. “Such a brute, grabbing at innocent girls in the woods at night.” 

Jon only rolled his eyes trying to smother a great smirk, before this time catching your arm as you moved from his grasp. Just as he did once before, Jon took little strength to move you. Tossing your back right into the Weirwood tree behind you. Both of his own gloved hands pressing against the bark beside your head as he leaned himself in enough to look down at you. The glint in his eye almost ready to laugh more then it was lustful. “Maybe you have a point.” 

Your laugh almost caught him off guard, letting a hand slip down to run gently along your waist while the other toyed with your hair at the side of your head. Your own hands innocently finding his own waist as you leaned back a little bit more relaxed. “My father sends his kind, innocent daughter to Winterfell, and what does this strong, Northern boy do? Shove her against a tree because he has no reasonable way of expressing his feelings with words. I was never the same after that.” 

His voice low, more of a muttering husk as he glanced to your lips and up. “No, but you are more fun this way.” Your expression falling flat, and it became Jons turn to laugh. 

Trying not to grin nor melt at how little you felt you got to hear it, and how much his laugh and smile made him impossibly handsome. “No, I get it. The charmless, rigid, bore of a Baratheon girl had to be shown how to open up by brute force.” 

Leaning more into you, Jons breath could be felt dancing across you cheek as he moved towards your neck. “That boring Baratheon girl sure responded eagerly for someone who now says she didn't want to be kissed.” A breathy laughed shared between you as it melted away in you, feeling in place a shiver taking home up your spine as he so gently trailed his lips along your neck to up just below your ear. Pressing a tender kiss there before holding your waist tighter, free hand moving your hair from in his way. 

The exhale leaving you was shaking, Jon once more teasing you with light presses of his lips along your neck again. Both hands smoothing up and down your waist as he did so. For only a moment did your hands find their way up his chest before you tried pulling back. Glancing around with more of a flustered whisper. “Jon, you remember where we are right?” All he did was hum though, never letting his kiss do anything but tease against you right over where he knew your neck was sensitive. “You want to do this in the godswood?”

You felt the smirk, not even needing to see his face. Your hands against your better judgment drifting up and already tangling themselves in his curls. “These aren't your gods with all those rules, darling. The old gods don't care what a man and his girl do with each other out here.” 

Head tilting with a sigh, giving him more room. As his lips were gentle and soft, his facial hair scratched at your neck that he knew was the reason your breathing picked up. Another whisper as you tried to hold onto something sensible, “Anyone could come out here and see us,” 

If you thought that would do the trick, you were entirely wrong. Moving his hands to your hips, Jon all but growled into your neck, “Good.” Before shoving you roughly, your back flat against the tree as he pressed himself tight against you, teeth biting down. Keeping you flat and still as his teeth bared. Biting up and down without even giving you a light brush of his lips or tongue to sooth the pain, just marking your skin until it turned colour for him. 

His hips pushing into yours as much as he could, and you hadn't the mind to realize he was wearing far less and far easier layers to feel his cock pressing hard against you through. Doing so on purpose, knowing how easily you worked him up, could fluster you when he was bold about showing it. 

Your voice caught in your throat, trying to hold back whatever deep sound of need was brewing inside of you but your neck burned with how rough he was treating it. Everyone was going to see it come tomorrow morning you knew, but moving to your jaw, Jon gave the same rough scrape of his teeth before meeting your lips. 

Capturing the sound in his own mouth, Jon kissed you deeply. Every breathe from you now poured into his mouth as you clung tightly with your hands in his hair. The feeling of him running up and down your dress before Jon just started to pull the material. The cold hitting your legs drastically, but the whimper only made Jon grow greedy. Hand it all over to him, his demanding kiss spoke. 

Pulling only far enough from your lips did Jon raise one hand up, biting the end of his glove before roughly pulling it off. You didn't even see where it ended up, Jon using that now free hand to grasp your jaw and tilt your head up to once more capture your lips. His were always so soft but he guided you with such a command that you surrendered to him. 

Letting your lips part open the second his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, and a needy moan gracing him as he slid his tongue in your mouth to brush against yours. His other hand, still gloved rose up to grasp the side of your face, holding you to him as he ground his hardening covered cock into you at how much you gave yourself over with ease. 

Your nails scratched at his scalp, something almost like a grunt vibrated deep in his chest, moving his uncovered hand back down to where he had yanked the skirt of your dress up, trying to will himself to part from your lips but always pushing you back for more the second he pulled away. Hand moving to the back of your neck, Jon barley tore from your lips, rasping deep against them as the slight trails of saliva still connected. Tempting him right back with each mutter. “You remember the first time I touched you?” 

Your head felt light, floating a bit as you nodded. One of your hands returning the gesture and scratching slightly along the back of his neck, voice hardly a whisper. “In the wolfswood..” 

Nodding, Jon bit your bottom lip, a hiss leaving him as he switched from a kiss to his teeth leaving your lip tingling as he slunk his hand over the thin fabric hiding you. “You have no idea what was running through my head, hearing you've never came before, knowing I touched you even before you did.” Another bite as he brushed his tongue against yours, fighting between a kiss and rambling deep against them. “Almost felt guilty, thought about you every night, trying to imagine what you'd feel like around my cock, knowing it wasn't even close. Only to have you tell me you've never touched yourself as if I wasn't going to lose my mind over it.” 

His fingers ran across the material, already feeling it was damp but increased the pressure anyways against you. Another sound deep in his chest as he held your forehead against his as his own breathing picked up. Voice still rambling, and you knew from how deep and almost mumbling it was, he could barley control what he was saying. “Gasping for me the second I did this,” his fingers slid under the fabric and brushed with purpose over your clit. Rubbing tightly against it, but this time unlike years ago as he recalled, Jon new exactly how to dangle you off that sweet edge right into painful and desperate  for him. “You wanna know what it was I really wanted to do? What I was thinking about while touching my beautiful, innocent girl for the first time?” 

You nodded, and Jon said nothing, skipping right to showing you.

Breath catching in your lungs, your back arched pushing your front right into Jon as he crowded you more. Two thick fingers sinking deep inside you, sliding right to the knuckle as you clenched around them already. His jaw clenched, breathing harsh through his nose as he watched your mouth drop open. As if nothing ever prepared you for when any part of him was inside you, you were tight but soaking around them. Sliding rough along a sensitive wall as he pulled them almost all the way out and sliding right back as deep as you could let him. 

The hand on the back of your neck turned you up again so Jon could watch your face, a slow but steady pace as his fingers moved inside of you. Your hands almost dropping instinctively to his shoulders but you knew he wouldn't let you hide there. It was almost humiliating how much Jon loved making you look deep into his eyes when some part of him was inside you. He didn't do it for that, but his insistent intensity over it always was too much for you. 

The coil inside your core spun and twisted as he sparked such burning pleasure inside you, your lips grasping at anything to say only to have something equally as humiliating come out instead, your hands grasping at whatever you could of him as you did so. “I never-” Your face almost twisting as the sting of a third finger joining interrupted you. But Jon ran his hand over the hair at the back of your head now gently, trying to prompt you. 

His voice was too low and sweet for how steadily his fingers fucked up into you. “You never what, darling? Be honest with me, it's alright.” 

You might have regretted saying it later, but you gasped it out in needy moans trying to follow along with it. “I never touched myself when I was with you.” His brows narrowed slightly as your hips almost grinded into his fingers with a strained gasp. “I wanted, gods, I wanted to do everything with you..wanted..wanted to give you everything..if, if I touched myself I'd be keeping all that from you and I didn't want that.” 

Fingers thick and as deep as they could to the knuckle, Jon leaned back to make you look at him with a slight almost shocked expression. “You never had an orgasm that I didn't give you?” When you nodded, Jon swore deep under his breath before roughly capturing your lips with his. 

Both of you knew that wasn't counting your time with Robb. But Jon never gave that any thought, the fact that during his most insecure years you trusted every single aspect of your pleasure only with him made his head spin. Thinking that maybe he really did ruin you, but that only made him desperate to do it even more. His thumb rubbing at your clit in right circles before giving up and letting the heel of his palm just grind roughly against you as his fingers ran along your walls. 

Jon knew he should've slowed down, but then he finally sensed it. Felt that feeling of being watched, and he knew exactly why. That growing urge to show you off, to prove how perfect you were for him with pride. Pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm, he felt you clench around him only to pull out of you the second he realized you were seconds from falling over that edge. 

Lips parting from yours, you watched his eyes so dark they were of black ink as they looked over you blown wide open. Your voice was small as the sting from losing it so close had you feel strained. “Jon, please..”

Shaking his head, Jon moved both hands under the skirt of your dress. Grasping the edges of your underwear he pulled them down. Kneeling slightly to pull them off one foot at a time. Looking up at your heaving chest, his fist tight around the material before he shoved them away on his person without a single intention of giving them back as he stood up.

Your hands moved, trying to undo things to pull him out but Jons hands were faster, and rougher then yours. Looking up to your eyes, he didn't even blink as he did so. Your hands laid useless on his waist, digging into the leather as your heart raced and screamed at you. Running them up to cup both of his cheeks, Jon finally moved, all but kicking your legs apart as he ran the tip of his cock along your soaked core. 

Still one hand on himself, Jon used the other to yank up your leg to rest at his hip. His palm sliding down  to force the material of your dress to pool against you, exposing your actions to that side of the world. Pushing his tip into your clit you whined just as he sealed his eyes shut with a hiss. Holding a groan he swallowed it down to his chest before ensuring you were looking at him. 

Letting it slid back down he just barley sat at your entrance, one tiny slip and he could inch inside of you but his eyes were too soft for that yet. “Tell me you still belong to me,” Your brows narrowed in confusion, but Jons head tilted slightly almost pleading you to be honest. “I belong to you, but tell me you'll always belong to me, no matter what,”

You felt confused but nodded, “I belong to you Jon, I always will belong to you, I love you.” 

Jons face twisted, almost as if conflicted with something before deciding on a path. Sliding his cock slowly but deeply inside of you. The burn from the stretch of his cock was more then his fingers and you shook in his very touch. Sliding just as deep you gasped as you leaned this time into him and he let you for a moment. 

Only a few times did Jon steadily slide almost out of you before coming right back. Your core right back to twisting only this time it was harsh and breath stealing. Hands grasping his shoulders and part of his neck you looked up at him, his mouth parted in need before he grabbed your other leg, not letting himself leave your warmth, Jon picked you up properly. 

Shoving you back into the bark of the Weirwood did Jon barley let himself leave before thrusting hard back inside of you. His cock dragging along that same sensitive wall but now with a roughness that were there nothing in his way, would have loudly slapped and echoed in the empty, cold night. You clenched around him tightly, your heart pounding in your chest as you begged his name. 

Almost having to gasp for air, Jon captured your lips again. His cock not pounding very fast, but hard and rough. Rough enough you felt yourself cry out at particularly painful ones that Jon didn't even realize bordered on too much, but you knew you were utterly soaking his cock each time wanting exactly that pain. Since connecting your lips, Jon didn't let you leave. Leaning into you the second it felt as if you were to pull away for air. 

Fucking up into you again and again, Jon growled in his chest, almost snarling into your mouth the harder he pounded. Chasing something deep inside of you, as you clung and arched into him with nothing to support you behind the clawing inside your core to snap. A burning despite the snow and cold air around, nothing leaving you that wasn't whines in his kiss. 

You both knew it wasn't going to last. But, what you didn't know, was that Jon had other ideas for you that would more then make up for it. Pushing tightly against you, Jon sunk his cock deep as he thrusted only to slide his tongue back into your mouth just as he did so. One hand on your thigh now free to hold the back of your neck, keeping your lips fused to his. 

So close, you soaked around his cock only for Jon to groan your name against your lips. His cock so deep and so rough this time around that as your hands tangled themselves up in his hair, you were begging his name something you weren't even sure you understood. A cry that had to trust whatever he gave you, and all Jon gave you was nothing that was yours.

Pushing you more into the tree, Jon tried to push your free leg more so it widened you to him. His hips pounding rough into yours and only increased in how much it both felt good and was a painful feeling that only Jon could make you desire again and again. 

Muttering against your lips, “Don't come, don't you dare come, darling. I'll make you feel better, I promise. But right now, you need to trust me and not come.” Your head hid in his shoulder, nodding obediently as it almost made you tear up how much effort it took to hold back.

Your name groaned from his lips freely, just as you felt his cock deep inside you throbbing before as deep as he could go, finally came. His cum always was quite warm, but compared to the cold around your skin it felt almost hot in comparison. A deliciously thick never ending sea of his seed pouring deep inside of you as Jon moved you to look you in the eyes. 

A thought coming to his head almost came out of his mouth, but it wasn't the time. Not when he was being watched, not even for what this was this time. Holding it back as Jon once more bit and greedily guided your lips as he came and came deep inside. Nothing would leak out with how much was going deep in you, your whine against his lips as he shook. 

It felt like minutes passed before Jons seed had finished spilling inside of you. Panting heavily against your lips did Jon pull back to look you over, your voice needy as you leaned your forehead against his own. His hands a little less tight but you felt the bruises no doubt already there. A whisper only he could hear. “I love you so much,” 

Lust mixing with the raw feeling of your genuine innocence, Jon hadn't left your warmth yet but wrapped his arms around you. Coming up to pull your head into his neck as he did your hair, smoothing over and over again along it. His voice rasping in your ear, “And I love you, so much, so so much.” 

It took him a good few minutes to convince himself to pull out of you. Forcing himself to remember that he didn't let you cum for a reason, when he could stand there and want to let his cock pound fast until you soaked him so much there was no hiding it. But as you gently helped put his clothes back into place, Jon held both of your cheeks and let another kiss go to your lips and then forehead. 

Your hands around his waist keeping him close to you. “Why am I not allowed to cum?” 

But his answer, almost would've made you laugh were you not so overwhelmed with how much of Jons cum spilled inside, how much of it was there. How you could feel how warm and thick it was, and how he was so deep, it barley left any trace on your upper thighs as he left your core bare under your clothes. Jons answer though, was rasping and low no room for questioning despite his gentle touch. “Beacuse your King said so.” 

You let a breathy laugh escape, and as Jon started to chuckle as well, he nudged your nose with his before a gentle kiss was back on your lips. Eventually, Jon would convince himself to guide you back into the castle. But for now, as you nuzzled into his neck, Jon looked back to the watching eyes he could not see. 

Jon would take you once more in his room, spreading you bare across the fur to taste you before the fire, still refusing every orgasm for you, and yet he still wasn't satisfied. And he wouldn't be until this happened, and despite all the rules, all of the back and forth and the possessive nature inside him? Jon couldn't stop thinking about what he had planned for you the very next night. 

He knew Tormund had watched, and now Jon would ensure the only other person he'd trust with you, got their fill of you. In a very literal sense of such a word at that. 

You had been trying to figure out what had him on edge all day. Nothing seemed to stand out, and no one else acted as if anything was wrong or out of place, yet Jon spent most of the day a bit on the short side with people. Taking more time then normal to hover over you to the point you had spoken without looking, when your eyes had been on the papers in front of you for too long. “Can I help you with something, your grace?” 

Only then did you glance up, something sat on the edge of Jon's tongue but he just shook his head. A hand pulling you somewhat close to press a kiss to your forehead as he passed you by and left. Almost huffing out a laugh, you had returned to the task in front of you and thought little more of it for the time being. Theon had given him a glance as he left, turning to you somewhat amused, “What's wrong with him?”

You had returned to looking over your task at hand, but that time you did smirk with a chuckle. “Rest assured, there is always something wrong going on inside Jon Snow's head. Best not worry too much about it, or you'll drive yourself up the wall.” Tossing him the stack in front of you suddenly you nodded to them. “Now help me sort through all of this before it drives me up the wall, myself.” 

When you had come upon him yourself, it was growing late into the day as the sun had long since set far enough the sky was mostly dim save for the horizon. Almost amused how the tides had turned, him sat in his study with his elbow propped on the table so he could rest his forehead in his hand. You could see a deep, twisting in his expression even from where you stood behind him. Maybe you'd have surprised him were Ghost not to perk up with bright eyes the moment you gently slunk into the room. 

Turning to see what caught the direwolf's attention, Jon had a much softer smile fall over his face then he had any right directing towards you. Reaching one hand out, you returned the gesture. Letting Jon guide you to rest on his lap, you sitting to the side now with your hands gently along his chest and collarbones, his keeping you steady by your waist. “You've been in a strange mood all day.” 

Jon hummed low in his throat, grey eyes soft as he let them trail what appeared to be in an innocent manner along what he could see of you. “Have I?” 

A small nod of your head, you leaned forward with a hand cupping his cheek. Meeting him half way to gently press your lips to his only for a moment, before muttering against them. “I know you have a lot on your shoulders, I just want to know what I can do to help.” You knew Jon had been keeping some of the more difficult parts of ruling from you, trying to give you easier things to focus on, or tasks that he knew you would enjoy rather then feel frustrated with. But now it meant you were watching his shoulders tense, and his mood struggle. 

Running his hand up to rake through your hair, he barley shook his head. “You are helping. You take care of the little things so I have the time to deal with the difficult ones.” 

A smile forming on his face as you sighed flatly. “We can share both of those burdens equally, you know.  Otherwise, I'm just going to assume that you like being somewhat miserable all the time.” Your face twisted, trying to keep a playful smile from it as Jon let his other hand at your waist pinch you. Giving hardly anything of a small shove to his chest before he left your hair to trap your hand against him. 

His eyes too easy to melt into as was his voice rasping and alluring. “And you worry too much about everything. I prefer you like this, relaxed at the end of the night instead of worked up.” Your shoulders dropped a bit as you let your other hand toy with the curls loose and long. Finding his eyes, yours were narrowed only slightly as they shined with a small ask to listen, but he didn't. “You've done enough, I want you to let other people do things for you sometimes.” 

Sighing out, you shook your head with a tired disapproval that you both knew wasn't serious. “And what about you?” His head tilted somewhat to the side, and yet the tenderness in his eyes grew as the frown growing on yours was much more genuine as you looked at him. “Doesn't feel right, letting you do all the heavy lifting. If those people out there are going to insist on still calling me Queen, then I need to be doing more then just stand beside you. I need to help you. I want to help you, Jon.” 

Jon watched you carefully, his face soft but fallen a bit into something harsher as he looked over the seriousness in which you spoke. “You fought and died for these people. That's enough. Spent your whole life doing things for other people, but I don't want that. I'm happy doing all this, long as I know your relaxed.” 

It was barley a smirk or even a lightness but you were close enough Jon caught both. “Not doing a very good job then, are you?” Rolling his eyes, Jon sighed and grabbed your hips to lift you up off of him, onto your own two feet. 

Pulling you into his side with an arm around your waist, Jon guided you out into the halls of the evening castle. “You're difficult, I'll give you that.” Your face twisting as you commented that you weren't sure if he was insulting you or not, the look on Jons face only added to the playful offence. “I'd never insult you. Only tease you.” 

Muttering under your breath with a shake of your head, “Relentless teasing, you mean.” 

Just as Jon had reached the outside of his chambers, he suddenly turned to you. Moving you by the hips against his closed door with a small thud, crowding you with a playful raise on an eyebrow to accompany the bemused smirk. “We both know this is nothing compared to what I could be doing to you. And maybe,” One hand moved to tilt your chin up gently to meet his eyes as he leaned in. “I have far better ways of making you nice and relaxed for me then I've led on.” 

Your hands trailed along his chest resting down more across the leathers on his stomach. “And what does that include precisely, Snow? Going to take a miracle to accomplish that with me of all people.” 

Reaching behind you, Jon opened the door before wrapping an arm behind your back to keep you steady. Yourself not realizing, he also did it, so you would not be able to turn around and see what his plan was before he could properly guide you into it. Slowly stepping inside, Jon only leaned his arm back to slam the door shut with a loud bang. Not wasting time after to run his hands along your shoulders before slipping your cloak off, tossing it off to the side of nowhere. 

Your hands now keeping steady on his waist as he looked down at you with a darkness creeping up and fast that matched the deep rasp of his voice as he held you tight to him by your hips. “Won't take a miracle, just doubling the amount of work it already takes to make you beg for me.” 

Lungs hitching the air flowing through you as Jon eyed you up and down, his grip feeling more like need then it did entirely intentional. But Jon wanted you just the right amount of worked up before he let this night happen. The other pair of eyes was willing at the very least for Jon to do so first. 

Not given much of a chance to respond, Jon trailed his hands up to the middle of your dress, hands hovering right at the small string of clasps that kept it together. Normally he would wait for you to nod before undoing them, but this time Jon only stood silent with his eyes never leaving yours as he unclasped them. Leaving your front open as only the thin, dark shift underneath would remain were he to shove the rest of it all on the ground. 

For now though, he seemed to have left it. Looking down at you, one hand now running along your neck gently, down the middle of your throat as he exhaled deeply through his nose at how you almost nervously swallowed at the sensation. “There's something you should know,” Your eyes flashing in an innocent concern, making Jon feel all the more like a lecher. “Last night, you were worried someone might see us out in the godswood?” 

You nodded, but the tensing in his arms was soothed as Jon traced a hand along your still covered breast while the other tilted your chin to look at him. His fingers tracing around the small bud before he could feel your nipple through the fabric. Not slipping his hand in to touch you, but never quite letting his thumb leave it as he watched your breathing pick up again, your eyes fluttering as you tried to focus. 

“Did someone..” Jon only nodded, stepping a big closer turning your head up better to look at him as he did so, running his other thumb in tandem over what he could reach of your throat. “Who?” You felt the nerves in your blood rising as it conflicted with the sparks of pleasure lighting a fire between your veins. 

For a split second, Jon glanced behind you with a sharper narrowed look and just as you thought you saw him nod he grasped your breast more roughly and pulling a light gasp from you. But one that was far surpassed by the feeling which followed. The loose fabric of the remainder of your dress was pulled from your body and tossed behind you as a low voice rumbled close to your ear. “Fucking cruel not letting a woman cum twice in a row.” 

Jon clearly expected the reaction, as soon as your heart raced in your chest you gasped loudly, turning around only to have Jon pull your back tight against his chest, one hand on your hip the other draped across your stomach to keep you against him as your hands grasped his forearm almost in defence. 

Many blue eyes haunted you now. Deep bright ones which were nothing but memories of sorrow, pale ones that some days you still felt as if right in front of you, and shining unnatural glowing ones like crystal that were coming for you all. But these ones, never were in the realm of intimidating until right now. 

Tormund was said to have the name of Giantsbane and whatever came about to give him that, could've easily come from his stature alone. He was as tall as he was broad and the aura which followed him was that of a man larger then life, but never before did you feel so small in comparison. His eyes ran down you as freely as they ever had, and he spared no care in hiding it in front of Jon. 

His chuckle was deep in tone as he nodded up to Jon behind you, “That why you're always so on edge, pretty crow? Whats the longest he's not let you cum?” 

The fact that Jon hadn't said a word made you feel even more nervous, but as your mouth stammered for any answer and finding none, Jon squeezed your hip. His voice was low, quite low and felt much more rough and controlled then before. “You can tell him.” 

Breathing it out as if one word, it only made Tormund smirk a he stepped closer. “A week..” 

Glancing behind you, he raised an eyebrow with a deep, knowing accusation. “You keep her like this for a week, Snow? Don't know how she hasn't come running to me already, woman like her should be getting more then she can handle.” 

The arm across your stomach pulled you a tad closer, the feeling of Jons hardening, covered cock suddenly pressing into your ass with no shame as Jon grasped the edge of you dark shift, raising it up just slightly too indecent in other company, so Tormunds greedy eyes could look all he wanted. His voice though, wasn't directed at you. “You saw her last night, the way she clung to me when I filled her, imagine how good that feels when she cums around you after a week of denying her.” 

It was the way they spoke to the other about you, Jons hands so greedily all over you and Tormunds eyes seeking the rest, but then they stood there speaking about you as if you weren't even there that made you feel dizzy, but in that moment of quiet did Jon lean his mouth to your ear. “Do you want him too?” 

Something inside you was a mixture of difficult to ascertain feelings. Part of you felt utterly humiliated, nothing was even showing but in just a shift you felt completely exposed in front of Tormund, but you also felt nervous and intimidated the ease in which he was standing in the room getting whatever eyeful he was enjoying. But then again, that rushing of blood between your legs hadn't left even though you thought it should have. 

You didn't answer though, eyes wide and mouth agape as your chest clearly heaved along your heavy breaths, and Jon pulled you back to press your ass into his cock more. “It's alright, we're not trying to force you into anything. Just want you to be honest.” Your voice breathlessly asked about what, and Jon kept you in place as Tormund now stood close enough you could feel his own degree of warmth as he stood tall over you. “Do you remember what I told you about him? That thing you thought I was lying about?” 

Mouth moving to answer, Tormunds large hand tilted you to look up at him. His light blue eyes deep and so blatantly wanting as he rumbled low, “Speak up now.” 

Swallowing nervously, you felt still confused, not quite sure what was going on even though both men were so obviously on the same page. “He, he said if you had the chance..you'd-” Jon squeezed your hip and Tormund leaned down just the slightest as his touch had let to leave. “That you'd take the opportunity to be inside me if you could.” That certainly was a bit more formally stated then what came rambling out of Jons mouth that night, but it was the broad strokes at the least. “But he wasn't..it was only a..”

Knowing you were trying to grasp at your words to claim it to be a joke or an exaggeration, Jon stood firm behind you, letting Tormund run his hand along your jaw and neck with an almost smug shine in his eyes. “Your crow's telling the truth, been wondering how good you'd feel around my cock a long time. Would've taken you for myself all the way back in Castle Black, if he didn't come back first.” 

Just as Tormund moved to reach for the thin straps of your shift, did Jon from behind you glare something mighty, making the man stop mid movement. Almost challenging the other to keep going before Jon rasped out, “She hasn't said yes.” 

Tilting his head down to look over you, Tormund had a knowing in his eyes that you felt as if could see right through the little covering you had left and could see how conflicted the wetness forming between your legs left you, and he knew it wasn't Jons touch alone doing it. “I know want when I see it, Snow.”

But Jon this time, didn't do it to tease. Instead his hands moved to your waist and tugged you back almost half a foot as Jon did. His voice bordering on something dark. “I don't care what you think you see, she says yes or it all stops here.” 

As you quietly muttered, “Jon?” His head turned to look at you more over your shoulder as he realized with a bit of guilt, that you weren't grasping what was going on as well as he thought you would. He could tell you felt embarrassed and turned on to a degree but his heart fell heavy as Jon looked at your innocent confusion meeting the others eyes. “I don't..I don't understand..you want him to...” 

Sighing deeply to himself, on glanced up at Tormund a silent ask to give him a moment. Turning you in his arms to face him, he held you one hand on your upper arm, as it reached up to rest against his stomach, his other cupping your cheek as he spoke much more tender then before. “I just want you to feel good, darling. And I really think letting me and Tormund be with you tonight will feel good, he wants you, and tonight I want you to want him.” 

There were the nerves Jon suspected, flickering eyes to nothing before landing on his chest as you tried to not fumble through your words. “But I love-” 

Running his thumb along the skin of your cheek, Jon leaned down so your eyes met at the same level. “I love you, and you love me, I know you do. But it's okay to want things you don't expect. You're not doing anything wrong by wanting this. I'll be here this whole time, I'm not leaving you alone. I'm here to make you feel good just as much as he is.” 

Your head dropped in thought, Jon gently turning you again to face Tormund who at least looked a little less intimidating as he stepped close to you. He was warned you would be incredibly nervous before you said yes to it, but instead of being off putting as he thought, Tormund found himself rather enjoying seeing you so out of your element, between the two men. “Snow's trusting me with you, and that don't come easy, pretty crow. He's fucking possessive, but he trusts that I'll treat you right. You just have to let me.” 

Looking up at Tormund, you felt his large hand trailing up your thigh and hip and back. Toying with the edge of your shift as you glanced back to Jon. “Are you sure-” Letting a hand grasp at your jaw, Jon leaned over your shoulder as he tilted your head enough to capture your lips with his. 

Cupping the side of your cheek firmly, Jon coaxed you to follow his lips until you relaxed in his touch, him pressing one more kiss before nudging your nose with his. “I was the one who asked him for this. I wanted him to be here, Tormunds the only one I trust to touch you, even just for tonight. But you have to say yes, or it ends here. Either he stays, or he leaves, and I'll take care of you myself.” 

Turning you then to look up at the much more wild man, Tormund was allowed the space finally to grasp at your hip. Leaving only Jons other hand at your waist on the other side, being what kept him to you. “Believe me, pretty crow. I have plenty of ways to take care of you.” 

It was maybe out of nerves, but you knew him leaving this room now felt like the wrong option, so you nodded. Jon mumbling in your ear that he needs you to say it out loud, so you looked more confidently up to Tormund. “Okay, I want this..I..” Turning to partially see Jon in the side of your vision, “What am I allowed or not allowed to do?” 

Jons chuckle was dark, and so was Tormunds as both men now moved to keep you in the middle of them. Jon tilted your head by your jaw back to face the taller one with a whisper in your ear. “Do whatever feels right, he knows what he's not allowed to do.” A hesitant expression still looking up at the taller man, Jon finally gave you an easy prompt. “How about you start with a kiss. Show Tormund how sweet tasting your lips are. I'll be right here.” 

But right here, meant in the room. As Jon gave you a tiny push, you realize he had you leave his touch entirely, only to be grabbed by the hips by Tormund and pulled into his front. Initially your hands found their way on the wrists grabbing you, but slowly you looked up to his face. Willing yourself to calm down enough, and that maybe if you just followed Jons first instruction it would get easier. 

Which was exactly what Jon wanted. He knew part of him would hate this, and already he did, but another part of him desperately wanted you to enjoy Tormund tonight, needed you to feel good when both of them were touching you. Sharing you made him feel angry and possessive, but there was little that didn't make Jon feel that way towards you anymore. This was a step. He needed to work through this angry possessiveness before it frightened you away. 

Slowly, you let your hands drift up to Tormunds chest. The moment you even slightly leaned up, Tormund happily took the reins from you. One hand moving up to your jaw as he pulled you up as he met your lips halfway. 

Your nerves running ragged, his kiss was rough and aggressive. Keeping you dangling off an edge of out of control but never letting you fall. Kissing Tormund was entirely different from the only other three people who ever had to you. Something wild and overpowering as he kept you by your jaw and neck right up against him, distracting long enough to run his hands along your shoulders and shove the thin straps of your shift partially down your arms. 

Pulling away, Tormunds own breathing picked up as did the darker glint in his eye as he nodded to your hands on him. Pulling them away for a moment, Tormund let them free the fabric as he yanked the rest of the material off of you. Left in no clothes did he very freely stand back to look much easier all over you with something that you couldn't decide made you excited or nervous. 

It was a strange feeling actually, realizing that none of what was under mattered to him. Tormund knew about the scar, and the rest of the marks along you, most from Ramsay didn't even phase him as he pulled you right back to him. One hand rough as it grasped at one of your ass cheeks, digging his finger tips into it as he kissed you, only to move with the same ferocity down your neck to match the bruises and teeth marks Jon left the night before on the other side. 

Grasping at his shoulders, you unknowingly arched into the touch, a stuttering gasp leaving you as he pulled you closer, your hips to his with the hand still grasping your ass. The foreign feeling of who was doing it, the scratching of his beard and overbearing size you felt as if you'd be powerless against him. 

From where you were kept, you couldn't see where Jon was or even hear and it made your heart race nervously. You weren't sure what fear made you more uncomfortable. If he really had just left you with Tormund all alone, or if just didn't want to touch you while someone else was. You didn't want that to be the night.

It was like he could sense you though, realizing in an instant Jon had yanked you from Tormunds greedy hold. A soothing feeling as you felt his chest bare as you were. Turning you in his arms, he grasped both of your cheeks as he muttered angrily, “I'm not leaving you,” His lips biting and harsh as he kissed you, the much more familiar sensation easing the tension in your chest as he coaxed you to let him control the kiss. Hardly pulling from you as he mumbled, “We're both going to be inside you, don't you worry,” 

You were trying to interject, wanting to ask what he meant but Jon did not allow you the air. Your hands wrapped around the back of his neck into his curls while one of his own wrapped around your waist and back, pulling you into him. His lips stealing your breathe and leaving you lightheaded as he didn't stop. 

Trailing down the side of you neck he left marks on the night before, you gasped and jumped as he followed the exact same trajectory that left your neck so marked in the first place. The sting and burn mixing deeply with how much you arched into his touch. Nails scratching along his scalp and running the other down his chest. For once, his scars felt comforting. They were something you knew. 

Moving up to your ear, his voice was a strained husk, “Let him touch you, darling. He's always wanted to.” Moving so you turned around to where the bed was, that time you almost didn't contain the whine before it left your mouth. Pressing a kiss just below your ear, Jon ran his hands up and down your waist. 

“Maybe she's just impressed for once, Snow.” 

Jons hands tightened in something you sensed was much more possessive then he wanted to lead on, but he nudged you over to the now much more bare Tormund. By bare, you meant completely. Tall and large, giant was the right word for it and you felt yourself purposely trying not to stare but it only made the man laugh. 

Tormund closed the gap, grasping you by the front of your neck and pulling you up for another kiss as he in what felt like what would be much of the night, yanking you from Jon. “If you say sorry for staring, that's going to hurt a mans ego.” This time Tormund felt much more ready to continue, turning you to the bed and effortlessly picking you up by the hips to prompt you onto it. Half chucking you into the middle as he climbed over top you, eyes looking between your legs as they parted naturally. 

Without sparing any time, Tormund kneeled between your legs and spread them wider without a seconds thought before leaning a bit more over you as his hand cupped all of you. Shaking his head as he glanced to the side, “Wonder who all this is for more, your little crow?” Shifting his touch so that Tormund could sink a finger knuckle deep into your cunt, a gasp clawing from your mouth as your head leaned back against the soft fur, already clenching around at the suddenness of him. “Or the one actually touching you?” 

Voice failing you, one of your hands grasped at the fur beside you, as Tormund started steadily moving inside you before letting a second slip beside the first and sinking deep once more. Your other hand reached up as if needing something to hold onto more, only to have your lungs work again as a familiar hand grasped it. Interlocking your fingers with his, Jon had sat down on the bed now leaning across so he could keep a hand on you. 

His other tilting your head to the side where his lips hovered over yours as you stuttered out quiet sounds of need as the twisting inside you spun. “This is about her, Tormund. Not your pride.” Uncaring as to what his response was to be, Jon pressed his lips to yours. Keeping the hand on your jaw so you couldn't get pulled from his lips. A bite to your bottom lip, you instantly parted letting Jon slide his tongue into your mouth to brush against your own. 

Your whines into his mouth only made him kiss you harsher, but your insides twisted as Tormunds other hand grasped at your breast, twisting your nipple until you gasped out a cry into Jons mouth. Your free hand raising up to hopelessly grasp at Tormunds wrist but he twisted the small bud just as he picked up how fast his fingers slid inside of you. 

Ever so slowly, Jon left your lips not without returning for multiple smaller kisses before he helped you up, sitting more upright on the bed, Jon, just as bare, knelt behind you, one hand at your waist while the other grasped at the breast Tormund didn't occupy. Both men working in tandem to grope greedily at your chest. 

Working together now, Tormund moved from your breast to more pull your hips up so his fingers could sink deeper at more of an angle. The coil twisted and suddenly it twisted too fast as a hand belonging to Jon that wasn't at your breast, moved to rub rough and tight circles at your clit. 

One hand holding onto Tormunds forearm as the other reached behind you and threaded through Jons curls as he buried his head leaving presses of his lips along your neck. Both men fast and rough, their hands large and calloused but they sent you hurling towards the end of a desire that had you clench around Tormunds fingers. One more sliding to make three and you whined out with a breathy cry to follow. Your thighs tensed as they spread wide for him, and Jons touch to your clit rubbed at the same pace Tormunds fingers slid in and out of you. 

Propped up with a hand still at your waist, you were forced to sit upright as your head fell back as the coil snapped. Tormunds fingers now sounding much more soaked each time he slid them inside of you that you felt a flush work up your chest to your cheeks. Leaning forward as your orgasm gave you aftershocks as he refused to pull them out. Only slowing his thrusts instead, this time you leaned up to meet his lips as he picked the pace up again. 

Knelt behind you still, Jon seemed to shift as you felt his cock, hard as he could be pressed right into your ass and grinding as he rubbed your clit still. Not having the ability to trail down to your wetness as he liked, you started to almost try and flinch from his touch as it felt like a stinging rawness and yet you pulled from Tormunds lips, to let your head fall onto Jons shoulder at the pain that had you begging for more. 

You didn't even know if words existed for you anymore, your core so stinging and yet the sounds between your legs were so humiliatingly wet. Trapped on the bed between two large, warm bodies before between them they plunged you right into a second orgasm that had you writhing into their touch between your legs desperately. 

Slowly, Tormund begun to pull his fingers out of you enjoying your wide eyes as he moved them into his mouth to taste what you left on him. A nervous swallow heavy in your throat as you reached back more to Jon. His own hands now both moving to your chest, grasping tightly at them and pulling at the small buds just rough enough to have you gasp for him. His rasp low in your ear, “You going to let me taste you?” 

Not anything leading, just a gentle prompt that had you inhale deeply. Your eyes fluttering shut only as you did so, before nodding. Jon gesturing for Tormund, the larger man then grabbed you, moving you right to the edge of the bed, your legs hanging off the sides as you kept a noise inside your chest at your heart racing. 

Kneeling on the ground, Jon without any time wasted, gently draped your legs over his shoulders, as his hands on your hips tugged you to lay in the perfect place for him. Easy gentle presses of his lips along the inside of your thighs. Before he reached your soaked core, he moved back to the other thigh. 

Inching close to your heat, Jon once more moved your hips in his touch to just slightly raise up off the fur as he ran his tongue flat against you, running from your soaked entrance to your clit. Stopping to make small motions along it before sucking it into his mouth that had you arch against the bed with a moan, and Jon only repeated himself. Keeping you on edge as he never stayed for the same amount of time on either, always switching between his lips and tongue each time he heard your stuttering cries grow more consistent, he'd change it up. 

All you could see if you sat up slightly, was Jons dark curls between your legs and you would drop back to the bed with a high pitched sigh, sweat covering your body and dampening your hair. 

Tormund tilted your face to look up at him as he pressed his lips to your, now so eager. Covering your breathless sounds and muffled them in his own kiss, Jons hands on your hips grew tighter, the harder it became for him to hear your cries. Tongue slipping into your mouth, Tormund let one hand drift down to rest gently at your neck. No pressure put down but you felt it as his kiss grew deeper. 

Licking down to your entrance, Jon himself groaned between you at how wet you were, licking all he could reach with such fervour that he wished he could lay spread on the bed to at least let his cock grind into the fur, instead his cock sat leaking and painful at how deep his tongue had to run along inside you. Only making you even more wet as your hips arched to his touch and Jon would yank you closer to his mouth with a grunt. 

Your insides twisted, as your cries kept muffled, your hands reaching up to grasp at Tormunds shoulders as he half hovered over your top. Moving though to once more make a striking series of marks along now his side of your neck, rumbling low. “Those fuckers out there have no idea what they're missing, taste like heaven. Look at Snow, turned him into a starving fucking wolf between your legs, bet if he could chose where he dies again it'd be right where he is now.” 

Jons eyes almost black glared up at him without ever letting his mouth stop drinking from your cunt, a growl leaving him as he reached up to grasp at your breast. His eyes slipping back closed as he lost himself with how much you were soaking his mouth, how much of you was coating his tongue, and how little he ever wanted to do anything else. 

You grasped the hand on your chest, Jon not hesitating to let you interlock your fingers as you cried his name. Tormund wouldn't have been able to hear the deep growls into your cunt as Jons tongue licked deep inside you, only vibrating against you and making both his grip in your hand and on your hip tight. 

In only seconds did you have to realize your orgasm was about to wash over you, begging Jons name only to have Tormund put the slightest bit of pressure on your throat to grab your attention and bite into your lips with a kiss. Which only spurred Jon to move, yanking your hips up off the bed so he could more hold you and hear your voice instead, letting him lean down into you deeper then before. Forcing Tormund to have to follow and capture your lips in a demanding contest between them.

Your body burned as it flooded through you, something tight snapping that was white hot and too bright to even comprehend as you came, Jon drinking every bit you gifted to him with an eagerness that would've had you whine were Tormund not there to distract you and keep you tethered to the earth with his lips. 

Slowly, Jon ease up, tongue making smaller and less wide licks before pressing a kiss to your clit that had you almost jump. His own mouth soaked, Jon rested his forehead against your mound for a second as his breathing heaved almost painfully in his chest. Barley controlling himself, Jon suddenly moved back to kiss and suck at your clit, now just spreading your legs as wide as he could manage before moving his hands under to grip the cheeks of your ass tight, one in each hand. 

Part of you wondered if he almost forgot Tormund was even there, swearing low under his breath as he send you into falling tears as you snapped, another orgasm almost growing painful as was his greed attached to your lips, your cries in the open air the only thing having Jon finally come up for air. 

But using his strength to push you further up onto the bed before flipping you over. Your stomach against the furs as Jon knelt behind you, prompting you to sit up on your hands and knees, “Come on, up for me, there we go.” 

His hands grasped greedily at your ass, groping before pulling them wide in a stinging feeling. His own jaw set clenched tight as he looked at you. Tormund suddenly watching the utter dark greed in Jons eyes as they met the others gaze, Jons voice rasping low. “Here's what we're going to do, you're going to get her ready while I fuck her, then when I take her? Her cunt is yours.”  

Tormund nodded as you looked up at him and he smirked down at you, running a hand along your jaw with almost a condescending tone. “Your crow wants to fuck you a way no proper southern girl like you should want.”

Your chest lurched as Jons hands groped the skin there before a thumb trailing just over your ass, almost collapsing you into the bed at the feeling. “Jon?” 

But he didn't answer, not you. “You have it?” Whatever they spoke about, you watched Tormund nod as Jon continued. “Good, turn her around.”

As they both handled you like a rag doll, Jon pulled you up into his lap to straddle. His cock sat heavy and red between you, but he cupped your cheeks with his mouth slightly agape. “Look at you, haven't even been inside you and you're already a mess.” All you did was nod, wanting nothing more then for him to do whatever he wanted, both of them and Jon leaned in to kiss you again. 

Your arms wrapped around him, finding his hair to cling to as Jon wrapped his own arms around your waist and back pulling you to him. His kiss was purposely messy, tongue licking into your mouth to make you taste yourself from him, and rough bites of his teeth to your bottom lip that he hoped was going to leave a mark. Not once did he let you part from it, and as soon as he knew you felt it, one hand cupped the back of your head and kept you firmly against his mouth still. 

Tormund having spread some kind of warm oil along his fingers did he grope your ass just as Jon did before, only the second you felt him pressing a finger to your ass did Jon keep you with a hand at the back of your head to his lips. Tormund sinking a finger slowly inside your tight ass, a cry desperate to leave but Jon kept you right against him and his lips. 

You felt strange, the feeling of Tormund slowly moving in and out, you thought it should be awful, and yet? You clung tighter to Jons front at the feeling, strange moans leaving you that were as pleasured as they were confused. His other hand now, Jon guided your hips without breaking the kiss to hover over his cock and in one rough go, he had you sink down as deep as he could go. 

Barley able to groan your name into his kiss, Jon moved to let go to grab at your hips. Holding you in place for a moment, Jon pulled from your lips, soaked and saliva trailed between you as his eyes so grey they looked black bore intensely into yours. “Tormund?” 

Moving to kiss and bite at your neck, Tormund begun to slide his finger in and out of your ass at a steadily increasing pace. Jon tense as he held you on his cock, watching your face but the second you felt Tormund test letting a second join, Jon waited only until he was about to slide in before moving you on his cock again. 

The slap of your hips against his, only matched by how desperately you cried out. No ability to hide the watering in your eyes as you burned from how much he stretched you, but how much Tormund was as well. Your hands grasping at Jons shoulders as he bounced you up and down on his cock refusing to let you look anywhere but right at his tense expression. The sound already, the slap of skin almost felt filthy in front of someone else. But, Tormund kissed and bit at your neck almost making you tilt your head to give him more space, but his free hand moved you back to keep on Jon as his other started thrusting two fingers in and out of your ass at a faster rate. 

Taking over where Tormund held, Jon cupped your cheek as he pulled your forehead against his, raking his hand through your hair to the back of your head. Your cries nothing but music to his ears, eyes sealing shut as he hissed at the pressure around his cock. You knew you were clenching tight around him, Jon barley able to move but a few short inches as you were sat deep on him. 

Your hands draped down over his chest, pressing against the scars as you muttered out so softly all you could find words, “Oh fuck..Jon..fuck, I can't-”

Voice rough he nodded against you as he helped set your pace even rougher to push back how tight you kept getting around him. “I know, darling, I know, but you can take it I know you can.” Just as you felt Tormund creep a third finger to slip in, you cried out with a jolt a the feeling. Jon pulling you to hide in his neck as you all but collapsed into him with a shake. His voice rough, eyes peeling up from where he held you close to glare at the other. “Go easy, she's never done this before.” 

Tormund reached a hand around placing it against your lower stomach and pushing down making you dig your nails where you held onto Jon even more just as he pushed forward. “Your the one who wants this, Snow. I get my cock in her pretty, slick cunt and I'm a happy man, you're the one making demands of her.” 

You didn't have the right mind set to figure out what was going on with them, but both Jon and Tormund were well aware of what the problem was. Jons need was fighting with how possessive he was getting. How much he really did want this, but it was clashing aggressively with how much he hated anyone else even having eyes for you, let alone getting as much of you as Jon did. 

Tormund knew this was going to be a struggle the second he came to him with this idea, but in his mind, if the crow wanted this he was going to have to shut up and let Tormund take care of you. You weren't some quick fuck out in the North you were someone the man cared about and he knew Jon had to get over it. 

You peeled your head up, finding Jons eyes as he looked almost concerned at you but you smothered that with a kiss. Much more gentle and innocent then the situation called for. Your hands on his cheeks as his returned to your hips, moving you steady but at a slower pace as your heart calmed down. “Do you want to stop?” 

Jon almost didn't move for a second, something slamming him in the gut at the image. You were a wreck, grasping onto him, too overwhelmed by both mens aggresssive ways of taking you but you still found it in you to look so gently at him asking if you were the one pushing things too far. Worried his aggression meant he wanted to stop, himself. 

He didn't expect that to be the thing that brought him down to earth again, but it just made his heart grow heavy. Shaking his head, he pulled you back in for a kiss before muttering against your lips. “What I want is for you to cum for me. Cum on my cock, and if you're alright with it, Tormund's going to have his chance at feeling what a beautiful, perfect cunt you have. Do you want that?” 

Nodding, Jon finally shared a look with Tormund. His fingers thrusting deep caused you to gasp loud, leaning forward himself to somewhat drape your back against his chest with his free arm around you as Jon fucked up into you. Muttering in your ear, “Making him lose his mind over there, getting pissed at me just beacuse he wants his cock deep in your pretty ass.” 

One hand of Jons held gently at the side of your neck as he leaned forward to where Tormund held, kissing more lightly down his side of your neck as the other groped at your breast. One hand of yours raking through his damp curls while the other reached back to rake through Tormunds. Nodding, you could barley keep your eyes open at the fullness of both men in you. 

Jon muttered deeply into your neck as he moved down to run his fingers tight at your clit, “Let me fill you, cum on my cock and I'll fill you just the way you like.” Once more only able to nod your head as your core tightened and your orgasm waved over your nerves, in an instant you knew whatever sound came from you must have been loud, as Jons head flew up to cover it up with a kiss. 

Barley managing any more thrusts, you felt Jons thick, warm cum spill inside you as he kept you sat deep on his cock. Both of you shaking from the intensity. Kissing you until you felt the last of him fill you, Jon moved from your lips to your neck then up to your ear. “Can you take both of us at the same time?” 

Nodding, “Please, I promise, I can take it..” 

Jon pulled back, heaving breaths of his own as he ran his hand over your cheek before nodding. “Turn around for me.” 

Almost nervously exhaling, you felt both men pull from you at the same time, your hand grasping tightly at Jons shoulder at the feeling with a wince. You could see him leaning in to check on you, but you raised your other hand out, indicating you were fine. Slowly, Jon let you turn so you faced Tormund. 

The larger man wasting no time grabbing you and pulling you up onto his lap. One hand at your waist, the other grasping your chin to look down between you with his own smirk. “Your hands going to look that small around my cock, then they do normally?” 

One hand raking up into his hair, the other you reached down letting your thumb run over his cocks tip already with enough for you to run along him leaking. He kept his composure better but his haw clenched tight as his breathing heavied, watching with keen eyes as you slowly wrapped your hand more around him, letting what cum already there smear more down his cock. A chuckle left him, though. “She always this gentle when she's with you, Snow?” 

Finally feeling Jon press against your back, his own hand covering his cock with whatever warm oils Tormund had prepared you with earlier, as his other hand draped across your stomach over your scar, voice deep but a bit more collected now. “Makes me crazy, just makes me want to ruin her more.”

Your lips parted slightly, Tormund sat up to pull your hand away and guide you right over his cock. “Come on, pretty crow. Show me what makes your wolf so fucking obsessed with you.” Tormunds hands were on your waist but you felt Jons on your hips. 

About to find something to say, Jon shocked you by taking charge for your nerves, and pulling you right down onto Tormunds cock, a crying moan leaving you instantly as the man before you let his head drop back with a deep groan. Your own mouth agape, and you knew the strange lurch in your heart was how you truly never expected to be with the man this way and certainly not so suddenly. 

Not sparing any time, Tormund begun fucking up into you as he purposely sat forward catching your eyes as he did so. The slap of his hips against yours had you clenching tight around him and the degree of sensitive you already were from Jon, had you weak. Hands finding his shoulders your head dropped as you moved with him, getting used to who it was inside you as easily as it felt so good.

But then you felt him, you felt Jons hand on your hip  as he urged Tormund to stop. Pressing the tip of his cock right at your ass, Jon draped you with a hand by your neck back against him to mutter in your ear. “You sure you want this?” But you just nodded, and he kept you pressed back against him as the only one who moved was Jon.

Whatever Tormund prepared you for, you almost weren't ready at all for Jon, a flinch a the slightest press. The hand on your neck curling up to turn and rest your face partially against his, he shushed you gently. “Hey, hey, relax for me.  I need you to be calm, okay? I want you to feel good, darling.” You swallowed and nodded, taking deep breaths as Jon slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside you. 

Tormund sat forward reaching for the space between the pair of you and holding firmly at the back of your neck as he ran his fingers down over your clit in tight patterns. Allowing Jon to slip just a little further in before you winced again, but strangely even to you following up with a moan. 

They went slow, Jon easing inside of you as Tormund was there to distract you anytime you tensed up from how overwhelmed it felt. And yet, as soon as Jon was deep inside of your ass, he groaned deeply. Resting his forehead against the back of your head, looking down to where he was sunk so deeply before pulling out. 

The feeling was so strange, it hurt, it felt odd and yet as Jon sunk back inside your mouth fell open in a silent cry. Grasping onto Tormund as Jon started a slow pace, not pulling out very much when you found the the mans eyes. Instead of asking though, you had a feeling Tormund would rather appreciate you moving on his cock on your own accord.

And judging by the groan he let out as you were slow moving up and down his cock, you were right. Just as much as you didn't want to stop with him either. Jon slowly made you shake and clench as he started to test out a faster pace. Your insides felt as if you were burning up, something overwhelmingly hot and twisting inside you, and as you picked up the pace on Tormunds cock, Jon thrusted harder into you. 

The closer you got to another orgasm, the closer Tormund got as he met your hips with his own thrusts, the more you enjoyed Jons cock in your ass. A whine leaving your lips as you clenched tightly around both of them before you felt the shocks slam into your blood. Sparking everywhere the burning hot star burst inside you and you collapsed into Tormund. His arms coming around you as he fucked up into you fast, his own end being sped towards and you didn't even have the awareness to understand what was happening outside their touch, your mind was a fog of only the two of them. 

But Jon knew, his voice rough while his cock was in a vice as he fucked your ass. Eyes dark and angry as he hissed out, “Pull out of her.” Tormund swearing under his breath as he pounded harder, but in a split second Jons voice rose to something so close to a growling yell, “Tormund-” 

It all happened too suddenly right as you were still too high in the sky from your orgasm, Tormund pulled out of you quickly, stroking roughly at his own cock before you felt him cum all over your stomach. But as soon as he was the only one inside you, Jon suddenly lost his patience. His thrusts turned to pounding, your head falling back against his shoulder he turned you with his free hand to lean back even more as he pressed his lips roughly to yours. Hand on the back of your hair keeping you there, Jon groaned much more freely as you ended up pushing back against him. 

Fisting your hair tightly, Jons voice murmured together roughly. “Gods, you like this, you like my cock deep in your ass.” Almost in awe Jon kept you tilted so he could look down at you while his cock fucked into you as you moved back against him the force of it was felt across your ass cheeks. “Fuck, my beautiful girl, look at you. Taking Tormunds cock, taking mine like this? I don't deserve you, you're perfect, my perfect girl,” Rambling he kissed you again and groaned. 

Burying his head now in your neck, Jon neared his end, and he knew he wanted to cum as deep as he could. Shifting, Jon moved so that as he pressed your front down, your palms having to brace against the furs, he realize how close to Tormunds cock you were again. 

Looking at the other, Jon with a hand on your spine trailed up to your hair again. “You want her mouth?” You couldn't even tell what the two were saying as Jon guided your head to Tormunds cock as he continued to pound into your ass with his teeth gritting at the warm tightness. “Suck his cock, darling.” 

His hand moved you down to take him. Your wetness still on him and now covered partially in his own cum, Jon moved you up and down the mans cock without letting you stop to breathe. His other hand holding tight as he grew rough. Pushing you to take Tormunds whole cock, Jon beckoned the man to take over with a rough, “Keep her right there.” Your heart racing at the overwhelming pressure in your throat from keeping him so deep. 

But Tormund kept you brushing against the wild, orange coarse hair around his cock as you gagged against him. “Gonna swallow every drop, pretty crow. Don't you waste anything I feed you.” 

Moaning against him, you felt him throb inside your mouth just as Jon growled your name, pounding five, six, seven more times all the while Tormund came deep in your mouth. Flooding you with his cum, dutifully making you swallow every drop with a needy moan. Only to have that increased as Jon pounded one last time before pressing himself against your back, head resting in between your shoulder blades as he came deep inside you. 

Filled in both ends, sweat and cum it felt like stuck to your skin as both men thrusted into whatever hole they saw fit to spill into. As Jons hips slowed, you felt gentle presses of his lips to your shoulder blades. Jons hand reaching around to run gently down the length of your throat, the sensation easing the tension and making Tormunds cum a little easier to swallow so deep.

The sounds of you trying to drink every last drop of cum had both men hold tightly. Tormund in your hair and Jon at your waist. 

If you were being honest, you barley were aware of anything after that for a while. You felt the pain and over stimulation as Jons cock slowly left your ass. How you gasped for air as Tormunds cock finally left your mouth, but you didn't really register anything around you. 

Catching your breathe on your hands and knees, it wasn't until Jon noticed the third time you didn't even seem to realize he was calling to you did he move quickly. Pulling you up into his arms, he turned you onto your back, keeping one wrapped around you as the other ran down your hair, murmuring gentle soothing words as you nuzzled into him. 

Glancing up at Tormund with almost a worry at how far you had dropped, the larger man sat down on the bed. Running a hand over your hip gently. Voice low as to not startle you so close but looking with affection at you all the same. “Just keep talking to her, she'll come back to you.” 

Burying his face in your neck, Jon spoke soothingly as he glanced up to the wildling man now grabbing at his own clothes. “I didn't sign up for your neediness, Snow. You're her problem, not mine.” 

Before he could leave, Jon called his name. A genuine look of thanks as he ran his hand down your hair, “I'm not kicking you out.” 

But the man smirked, “Fucking your girl? I'll be here. Staying to watch you act all cute and sappy after? Fuck no.” They both chuckled, and both had a feeling a discussion about boundaries was coming Tormunds way at some point, but for now, Jon let it go. 

The door closing, leaving just the two of you he turned you better to face him as he just ran a hand through your hair with gentle words until you came back to him. 

Finding his eyes, you reached up to cup his cheek and pull him into a gentle kiss as your bare bodies stayed tangled together. “Jon..”

Nudging your nose with his, Jon smiled. “Rest, darling.  You did so well, I'm proud of you.” 

Nodding as you easily let the sleep take over, you curled into his chest with your hands draped by his collar bones. Your voice quiet and mumbling, “I love you..” 

Mumbling it back, Jon kissed your hair, but for now, that was all he could give while you were drifting to sleep. And until you calmly fell asleep, Jon watched you the entire time, only snuggling down into the bed against you did he allow himself to close his eyes. 

He was glad you enjoyed it, beacuse as much as he did too, a bigger part of Jon hated every single second he was sharing you and the likelihood of doing it any more, was slim to none. 

Jon Snow was far too in love with you to open this relationship up to other people ever again.

[mylovejimimi]

The Kims, your breeding problem | SJ & NJ TWO SHOT PT. 1

— PAIRING: mafiaboss!seokjin x mafiaboss!namjoon x mafiaprincess!reader — GENRE: smut +18. minors dni — WARNINGS: dirty smut (hell yeah), vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk ofc, fingering, ass action, anal penetration, double penetration, lots of degradation, some slaps, a bit of pain kink, breeding kink as per request <3, some plot that will be explained in part 2 (stay tuned), seokjin is MEAN — SUMMARY: Desperate to save your empire and your name, you walk into the lion's den with a plan. Turns out those two lions had a plan of their own, and now you're the piece of meat they had been so starved for. — WORDS: almost 9k SORRY DEAL W/ IT Ok babygirls i apologize for this eternal wait, it took me a month to finish bc i like to carefully plan my craft to not fall into boring stuff or repetitiveness. I hope it is worth the wait and you all like it <3 ALSO! part 2 will be up maybe tomorrow bc i wrote everything and it was way too long and u know, i wasn't gonna post a 20k words shot lmao Anyways pslease remember you can send me a tip by buying me a ko-fi if you like my works, it will meant the world to me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ And as always, i look forward your thoughts on this. Enjoy !

Being the princess of an empire wasn’t as easy as you once thought – but you had triple the fun you expected.

The businesses of this lawless side of the world weren’t just for anybody, that’s why only a couple families survived and thrived despite of time and mass murders. In those select families, in which the highest honor was to have no fear of law or men, one must just grow up strong and shameless to fit in them; if not, it was better to step down (which, more often than not, meant dying). And you must, at all coast, beat anybody else with your intelligence and cleverness, or else you were relegated as a mere pawn. Even worse if you were a woman.

One of the top families in the businesses was yours, which couldn’t make you prouder – because you were the one behind their success.

For the world, you weren’t particularly different from the average woman, but you had many hidden qualities that set you apart: you had money and influence, charm and wit, though most important than anything, you had dauntless drive. Enough drive to make you break rules, promote corruption, break as many families as you had to, terrorize all other elite families into submission. You had the world in your hand and you were ready to eat it.

And because you knew you were danger, you recognized which other menaces out there were as deadly as you.

“I don’t give a shit whatever you plan” your older brother spat in your face, throwing at you the documents that you compiled so carefully, all of them full of valuable information about your biggest enemy in the business. You gritted your teeth; you went to the deepest of holes to get all that data, you bought many men for it – with money and anything you could give.

“I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion, I was just informing you before you get your stupid ass in my business and fuck it up.” The relationship with your brother has never been the greatest. Being raised to be ruthless, it only worsened when your parents got old and sick, because it meant that you were now competitors for the throne. You despised him mostly because he was a useless piece of shit that only leeched off of your hard work.

“I’ll fuck it up? You would get all of us fucked in the ass and then decapitated in a public park. Those fuckers are at the top of the food chain for a reason, shithead.” You reacted violently at the cowardice of your brother, hitting his desk with your fist.

“And they are burying our business! They’re already fucking us and massacring us! They stole all our dealers and our spots on the west and south; they killed all our links in the government; they even opened their disgusting brothels next to all of our strip clubs. And you will do nothing about it?!” Your brother rolled his eyes at your outburst.

“It’s not big deal. You will think of something else to avenge us.” And he turned around on his spinning chair, ending the conversation. You were fuming, to say the least.

“FUCK YOU!” you yelled before taking the lamp on his desk and throwing it towards the nearest wall. Then, stomping out, you decided to proceed as you wanted.

…

Your shiny dress moved with the wind and blinded the security guards as you stepped out of the car that drove you. Currently, you were in the Kim mansion, the territory of your enemies, infiltrating in the intimate party they were throwing for one of their birthdays. You thanked in your head the trusted friend that popped up out of nowhere when you needed them the most, offering you a way to take down the Kims. It was all you needed, the way in, you would take care of the rest.

After the long walk from the exuberant entrance to the more exuberant halls, you finally were in the big ballroom that hosted the most people. You noticed there weren’t that many; a couple you recognized from negotiations and such, and nodded your head in acknowledgment to them, but there were many new faces for you. And that worried you, because you didn’t know which ones were the Kims. Maybe it was a little careless to go there with just a description of their appearances instead of researching more for pictures (which was really difficult since the most powerful people in the business, including yourself, didn’t show their faces ever).

Taking a random glass from the service station and bar, you scanned the room and downed the strong drink in one go, thinking what to do next. But then, your luck struck again:

“Mister Kim, congratulations for your birthday.” You spun your head almost instantly to look behind you, to the supposed mister Kim. He was right behind you in the bar but giving you his large back dressed in black. And, damn, what a back. Peering down, you also checked his ass and legs, draped in black too. And daaaamn. How could all his behind look so hot? Was it the height? Were his proportions just mathematically perfect? You hoped he was as nice in the front because it would be really disappointing otherwise.

Right at that moment, Mr. Kim turned around to look at someone that called him in the distance, and you saw him clearly, but most importantly, he saw you. His dragon eyes fixated on yours intensely, pinning you in your place, for what you felt was an eternity. You recognized his fiery stare. He was deadly.

“I don’t think I know you, dear” he started in his deep voice, flashing you a smirk. You looked at him from behind your lashes, batting them coquettishly.

“Would you be interested in knowing me, sir?” Despite your strategic flirting, you were eclipsed by him. He was tall, graceful and so, so handsome. He looked like he could be on the cover of any magazine; be the face of every luxurious brand. And as far as you knew, he was single. Manly and powerful – your kind of man. If he wasn’t your literal nemesis, you would have tried to seduce him for real.

“A sweet thing like you? Very much.” Knowing as much as you knew, it ringed an alarm that he was that easy to approach, to fool. It was weird. You decided to be careful. “Tell me, beautiful,” he said, stepping closer to you and smiling darkly. “do you know who I am?”

“I do. And I find you a fascinating man, sir.”

“Do you now?” You nodded shortly, feigning shyness and sipping on your drink to avoid his sharp eyes. You realized quickly that he was a very calculating, very analytic man; he was observing you meticulously, and you felt like a rare specimen being studied when he dragged his attention all over your body and every inch of your face.

Though, you weren’t dumb. You knew how to pose, how to talk and how to dress to captivate a man; you did it a million times already, and you had big plans for this man and his brother in particular. His lingering on your almost naked legs; how he tilted his body more and more close to you; his constant smirk – everything told you that he was interested in whatever you had to offer. Still, the deal was yet to be seal.

“You are very well-known for doing what you want and getting what you want. You’re like a god, I heard.” You batted your lashes, also inching close to his standing body. “I like powerful men – and they usually like me back.” And you looked away, like ashamed of sharing that.

“So you like danger” he stated, while moving a strand of your hair behind your ear. His hand went down your neck slowly, caressing with the tip of his cold fingers your skin.

I am danger, you thought while smiling cutely for him.

“I find it kinda romantic to give yourself completely to a forbidden man.” You bit your lip lightly, mirroring his action when you grazed your fingers on the hand he rested on the counter.

He stared at you for a long moment, in absolute silence. It was difficult to read him with his impassive face and controlled attitude. Just in case, you passed a hand through your hair, the decided signal for your guards to be alert. By the corner of your eye, you saw one of them signing back discreetly. If needed, they would fire all guns to take you out of there.

“Would you like to watch the big man at work, sweetheart?” Mr. Kim suddenly said. You looked at him with big, naïve eyes, nodding.

“Really? I would love to, sir.” He offered his big hand, which you took eagerly. Once more, you carded your hand through your hair.

His slender fingers enclosed your hand firmly, guiding you from the bar across the groups of finely-dressed people in the open ballroom to long, dimmed hallways. You knew you were venturing into the lion’s den but what else could you do? You needed both of the Kims alone, and getting one of them at the time was easier. You would seduce one and get him, and later you would find and do the same with his brother – if they didn’t cooperate with you, of course.

“You know, sweet thing, we get lots of women at our feet daily. Some are useful, some are just a hindrance” Mr. Kim casually told you. You were getting to the end of a particularly secluded hallway; the end of your walk, it seemed. You decided it was safer to keep up with the façade until the very end. “Which one would you be?” Stopping at a large, wooden door, he looked at you expectantly. You found his eyes, and even in the dimmed light you saw something shine in his pupils.

Just now you realized the energy that swam between you.

His strong hand squeezed yours and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You bit your lip. Kim Namjoon (you guessed it was the younger Kim based on the descriptions you were given) was the hottest man you ever saw: his secure posture, his devilish expressions, even his work ethics were attracting. You would never admit it out loud, but you were really impressed by how the Kims ran their business. In no time, they build up an empire equal to yours, which had years and years of existence, and took over almost all of the city. It was really hot to you how they were fierce, and ruthless, and did whatever they wanted without a care for consequences.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, sir” you replied in a low tone. His obscure smile showed up again.

“Mhm, I think we would get along really well, dear.” The door in front of you opened, and a spacious and well-illuminated office appeared. It was modern and austere, with scarce black furniture a desk that had not a single trace of clutter as you would see, for example, in your own. “Hyung, I just received the biggest gift for my birthday.”

The chair at the desk spun around to reveal the most stunning man you have ever seen. Kim Seokjin had his hair perfectly brushed back to show the most well-proportionated face you’ve seen so far: plum, kissable lips; round, conceited eyes; an instant derogatory grimace when he saw you. His haughtiness was nothing; what worried you the most was that now you would have to deal with the two Kims together.

 “Really? That’s the big gift? A cheap whore?” You had to bite your tongue. You may be a whore from time to time, no shame in it; but cheap? CHEAP? When you had your own queendom and where the owner of half the city? When powerful men had died just for touching your hand without permission? He definitely didn’t know who he was talking about.

“No, hyung, no.” Namjoon chuckled. Getting bolder, he circled your waist with an arm and took your jaw to emphasize his next words “I got us a toy to spend the night, and if it is good, maybe we could consider giving it more use.” Seokjin just arched an eyebrow to you.

“I admire both of you, sir, that’s why I want to serve you” you expressed, lowering your eyes to the floor in a submissive manner.

“Serve us? Are you a fucking slave or something, stupid bitch?” The older Kim didn’t need to yell to be aggressive and threatening like a rabid dog – his words, neutral tone, and overall mean energy was enough to aggravate you. It took everything in you to stop yourself from setting your jaw.

“Do you want me to be one?” It came out harsher than you intended, and yet, you felt a slight shift in the air.

“You couldn’t handle being my slave, dear” Seokjin said as a matter of fact. “I’ll make you and your slut holes unusable after a day.”

“How are you so sure of that?” you counterattacked calmly.

“It would only hurt you, sweetheart, really” Namjoon joined in with a teasing tilt in his sensual low register and a mild push of his hips into your ass. Well, at least you could be sure one of them was interested in you, judging by the hard member that poked your behind.

“Do you really think I’m a virgin in any way?” Something burned in Seokjin’s eyes. Bingo. “Would I be offering myself to you if I were?”

“Your performance as a poor, submissive girl was shit, but I was hoping you dropped the act sooner than later.” The man at the desk smirked. You thought that maybe he wasn’t the brightest of the two.

By his hold on your waist, Namjoon walked you around the desk until you were in front of his brother, who turned in his chair and was watching you expectant, with his legs spread apart and hands clasped together. “Why don’t you show who you really are then, angel?” As he said that, he pushed you to the floor until you were kneeling between Seokjin’s long legs, inches aways from his crotch. Honestly, what was about to happen kinda excited you.

You had understood right away that they were the typical hyper-masculine control freaks. As most men you had met in the business, you assumed they would feel challenged as soon as you showed a little bit of character. What dominant, powerful man didn’t enjoy taming a brat from time to time? And thus, you would put up a little fight, just for funsies.

“Would you be able to handle me, sir?”

“I’ll fuck you up so bad, don’t mess with me this early.” You scoffed at the warning.

“But I said nothing yet, sir. Mr. Kim,” you called the other Kim, turning your head to look at him. “can I ask you, then? Like, does your brother have any idea of anything? It feels to me he is capable of words and nothing else.” Namjoon snorted.

“You’ll fucking see what I’m capable of” The elder grunted and proceeded to stick your face on his groin. “But your nasty mouth won’t be on my cock.”

Unceremoniously, you opened your mouth and closed it on the shape his member made in his pants. The cloth was very thin and he had no underwear beneath it; you could feel almost every detail of him, including his faint throbbing and the very massive girth. You let yourself indulge in it a bit – Kim Seokjin was too damn hot after all. You sucked enthusiastically on his shape, lapping obscenely with tongue and all for the greedy eyes of your spectators. After a couple minutes, you realized that Seokjin´s cock pulsed more when you looked up at him, so you fixated on him while suctioning on the place his tip was.

“Hyung, look, she’s rubbing her legs together like a desperate slut. Is your hungry cunt too empty, sweetheart?” Namjoon said from above you but you had no time to even form a thought before you felt a cold object between your legs, pressing on the apex of your legs. “Get off on my shoe, baby, let’s see if you aren’t just talk.” And he pressed even harder on your pussy. You let go of Seokjin’s hard member with a high-pitched moan when the shoe’s tip hit directly on your clit, and Namjoon, as evil as his brother, touched that spot over and over again. But the oldest Kim couldn’t let you slack off on your duty; no, he had to push you onto his cock once more, shaking your head until you got back to gobbling him sloppily.

“Fucking filthy whore, look at the fucking mess you made” Seokjin grumbled, and you confirmed he was right with a quick peek. The dark and expensive fabric was even darker all over the lap, and the man’s penis would stand all the way up proud and hard if not for the restrictions of the pants. You patted yourself in the back for your great work, before getting down to devour him some more – though, you didn’t because he continued: “Aw, look at you so eager to spread your legs for the enemy to save the family business. Daddy must be really proud of you.” You froze. Stopping all motion midair, you stared at him. Kim Seokjin smiled joyfully while he caressed your hair.

“Did you really think we didn’t know you were coming? How, if we were the ones that invited you over.” Them? Your blood boiled once more at realizing you were betrayed by one of your closest, most beloved friends.

From behind, Namjoon took a hold of you by the hair roughly, yanking you back painfully until you were looking directly at him. You yelped and grunted loudly at that. And then, the door busted open and one of your guards entered pointing his gun at Namjoon; but the criminal wasted not a second in pulling out his own gun and firing it at the intruder.

“Shit!” you exclaimed as you saw the body fall down with a thud and Namjoon took hold of your arms, gripping them behind your back to immobilize you. If only one of your men got there, it must mean the others were already dead.  “You fuckers, let me go!” you yelled at the men holding you. Struggling to get free from their tight grasp, you could only lift your knee with force, colliding into Seokjin’s crotch.

“Fucking bitch!” Despite his brother folding into himself and holding his crotch, Namjoon cackled. You felt a little proud for causing him pain.

“I see you’re not as average as I thought” the younger mused near your ear. You turned as much as you could to look at him and spit at his face. He was shocked but still grinned.

“There’s no bitch like me, you better learn it now.” Namjoon’s hold on you tightened as his tongue peeked out to wet his lips, catching a single drop of your spit that rolled to his mouth.

“No bitch like me my balls” you heard Seokjin grunt, but when you turned to look at him, he took you by the hair like his brother did previously. You catched just a glimpse of him putting a liquid onto a rag but you knew right away what it was, and so you started to insult them louder, fighting them violently. “Oh, shut up already, stupid whore.” And when the rag was over your mouth and nose, it only took seconds for everything to turn black.

…

Consciousness came back to your body in what felt to you like an instant. You groaned, opening your eyes slowly. Why did your body feel so heavy? You could barely move to get on your side, feeling your wrists tied together but lying on a comfortable bed. And why were you in your underwear? Though, that was the least of your problems.

Looking around, you found yourself in a luxurious bedroom. You grimaced at its ‘single man’ decoration though, disgusted with the lack of good taste. Was it the room of one of the Kims? It looked like an isolation room in a psychiatric ward. Well, you thought, they’re fucking insane so it checks out.

“I have to get out” you murmured to yourself, but you couldn’t even try to sit up without feeling too lightheaded. Groaning, you left yourself lie on the soft surface momentarily. You would see how to escape on the go.

“Look who just woke up.” You grumbled when the voice of Kim Seokjin entered the room. You moved slightly to look at the door, watching your two enemies getting in and nearing the bed. Seokjin smiled to you. “It’s our favorite girl.” When he brought his hand down to stroke your cheek, you tried to bit him, missing him for an inch. “Wah, you’re a feral one, aren’t you?”

“I’m your worst nightmare, asshole.” Both men chuckled mockingly. Namjoon stepped forward and took a sit on the bed beside your body.

“Maybe you were, before intruding in our home and getting tied up by us. But you seriously thought you could just walk in and shoot us up?” You held his stare without an ounce of shame because they hadn’t realized yet that wasn’t your real plan. You played along. Men in power were that easy to trick, you only needed to show a little bit of skin and act a little clueless and their ego would get in their way to make them think you’re so stupid and they’re so in control. Truth be told, you were pretty desperate to end them, but you not only had beauty – most of all, you had brains.

“Whatever, just kill me now so the fuckface of my brother drowns in his own shit.” You resigned to your possible fate with a roll of your eyes. Namjoon smiled at you for the nth time.

“No, baby, that would just be the easy way out for you. You’d been in this line of work since birth; you know we can’t just let you go without a lesson.” Your breath hitched a little when the man posed a cold hand on your hip, fondling the zone. Got you.

At this point in your hectic life, you were not afraid of whatever these guys might do to you. If it was something sexual, it would be just a short-cut for the ending you expected. Also, you had sex with all kinds of men and women, who had all kind of kinks and weird shit, so sleeping with the Kims wasn’t big deal – it could even be fun, in your honest opinion. Fun like a smart cat playing two buff, dumb dogs that thought they were in charge. They didn’t know what kind of cat they just caught.

“And so? You want me to cry and beg for forgiveness? Please, sirs, spare me my life! Don’t defile my pristine, virgin pussy!” you exclaimed in a mocking tone, snorting for the absurdity of your own joke. Not even a shadow of a smile graced the Kims’ faces before they pull the serious, mafia-men façade up. They were not happy with your mocking attitude. “Yah, is not that serious, really.” Seokjin got close to the bed to grip your neck menacingly. Like he could scare you.

“It is serious if you come with the intention of murder.” You snorted. So fucking dramatic, and for what?

“It is so obvious that you both are newbies here. We, the real crime-syndicates, just have fun with it.” Seokjin tightened his grip. “Woah, you feel threatened by the tied up, drugged girl, I see.”

“Nah, baby, we just want you to be silent.”

“I swear I’ll stop!” you replied with a short laugh. You could see on their faces that they didn’t find you funny. “Just let me say –”

“Just shut up before we really make you to” Namjoon warned with a pointed look. The frustration became evident on them; they clearly wanted you to submit, scared of them taking advantage of you. They were too used to frightening people into submission. What pair of fools.

“Oh? Why don’t you try?” you dared, batting your eyelashes at both men. Seokjin scoffed before taking you by the hair (again) to lift you until you were sat on the bed, and he got nose to nose with you. You complained for the harshness of his action, but loved it nonetheless.

“Remember you asked for it, sweetheart” Seokjin said lowly, almost in a grunt, before crashing his mouth on yours so hard that both your teeth clashed and clicked. He kissed you with vigor and violence, making it really difficult to keep up with his rhythm. Your lips ached already from the way he suctioned them. The only thing you could do was to whimper.

It was even hard to breath properly in that heated make out, so you felt more and more lightheaded than when you were drugged. His tongue wasted no time entering and reclaiming the whole inside of your mouth, and you could feel his warm spit getting into your cavity but also dripping from your lips the sloppier he became. It was safe to say that you were elated with the ferocity of the older Kim and proof of it was the wetness that you felt leaking from your see-through underwear to your inner thighs. Suddenly, the man separated from you with a wet sound, and you instinctively took a big breath quick enough before Seokjin moved you by the hair to collide with Namjoon’s mouth this time.

If Seokjin was dizzying, Namjoon was electrifying. He wasn’t as pressing but his hands seized your hips roughly and his tongue wasn’t letting go of yours; he even bit your lower lip here and there. At some point, his lips took a hold of your tongue and he sucked it viciously, while his brother pushed your head against the assaulting mouth insistently.  

“Open up, honey” Seokjin grunted in your ear, and you didn’t know what he was talking about until you felt a big, cold hand on your inner thigh, a hair away from your pussy. He dabbed the skin there, no doubt entertained with all the wetness that seeped from your panties, but the demon that he was could not give you the satisfaction of touching your cunt properly.

With a man devouring your mouth and the other holding you still and rubbing nimbly your folds and flesh, you did start feeling overwhelmed – the kind of overwhelmed where you need more direct stimulation, though. So you whined loud. Namjoon released you.

“Want more, baby?” No words were left in your mind, so you nodded. The younger Kim, with wild fire lightning up his hooded eyes, smiled big in a shark-like smile – deadly, deadly, deadly. “Hyung” His brother looked up at him, and both shared a knowing look, like they already had planned the next step. Maybe they did.

But you had no time to think about anything. Each of them took one of your knees and shoved you back until you were lying on top of your tied hands; then, they parted and lifted your naked legs as much as your damned good elasticity allowed, ending up folded in half. And, somehow, they made themselves fit in that space side by side, as large as both were.

Next thing you knew, someone’s teeth were pulling your flimsy underwear down, grazing lightly your folds. You cursed, throwing your head back and thinking how the hell did you ended up in the best-case scenario possible. Taking you underwear out of your body in a flash, the Kim brothers seemed very eager to please you – or to torture you in their own way. Whatever they planned, you had no other choice but to take it.

Soon enough, a rough tongue parted your folds rudely and licked your juices away with the urgency of someone that doesn’t want a single drop wasted. Then, another tongue appeared, but this one went straight to your clit to punish you in the most delicious way possible: whoever it was, started by sucking it fervently, petting it with his tongue at the same time until he touched a nerve that made you scream, and jabbed at it repeatedly. They didn’t spare a single gaze in your direction, and, with the way you were losing your mind piece by piece, it was difficult to focus and distinguish who was who when both their heads were down – but whoever was lapping at your labia, now circled your wet hole with his whole tongue just the way you liked, both to tease and lubricate you.

Though their attention was getting overwhelming, it was also nice, because you had been shared by several men in various occasions in the past but none of them ever used you like this. No, they only cared to get their dicks in whatever part of your body they could and get off in there – and, really, you never minded since you weren’t expecting (nor didn’t want) a romantic lovemaking night where you ended up satisfied and chirping. Business was business. The Kims, however…

“You were so smart a minute ago, now can’t even form a single word?” It was Seokjin taunting you, lifting his head from your mount and you realized he was the one assaulting your poor clit. Of course it was him.

“You fucking idiot,” you started in a breathy voice, trying with all your might to fixate on him and not get distracted by Namjoon penetrating you with his tongue. “you don’t need my instructions, you’re eating my cunt like you’re my good bitch on your own.” At that, he pressed his thumb on your sensitive button roughly, and moved it in circles keeping the same pressure. “Fuck!” you exclaimed out of surprise.

“Goddamn, do I have to force something down your throat, stupid slut?” And then, he did force his index and middle finger into your mouth, pressing on your tongue to slide down your throat. The older Kim was extremely short-tempered, you concluded – it explained why people kept talking about the violent Kim brother whenever a massacre was done out of seemingly nowhere.

You have heard millions of stories of them, one worse than the other, but you were too prideful to believe even an ounce of whatever dumb shit they supposedly did. Burning down a whole building? Yeah, right. Bombing an enemy’s car? Suuure. Kidnapping a whole family because the father dared to go and try to take advantage of them? Well, maybe that had some truth, given your actual position. No doubt, all of those things – if true – were Seokjin’s idea.

Speaking of the devil, he almost hits the back of your throat with the tip of his longer digit, forcing the ugly and loud sounds of gargling out of you. The choking itself wasn’t so bad, but his insistence of keep pushing and pushing was making your jaw hurt a little. Drool was all over your lower face and his fingers, sliding down from between them and dripping into his palm. Through your teary vision, you catch a glimpse of Seokjin’s sadistic smile, so pleased with your degradation. You made sounds of complaint between gargles.

“See why you have to watch your tone with me, dumb cumdump? And quit pushing your luck because we will fuck your whore cunt into submission.” Right at that moment, you felt a hand parting your asscheeks and something wet circling your wrinkled hole. A surprised whimper escaped you. With a short chuckle, Seokjin took hold of your face with his free hand. “Right, and we will fuck your ass too, sweetpie.” His fingers left your mouth suddenly, and you took a big gasp of air, not knowing what else to expect from the brothers.

You didn’t have too much time to wonder because a finger surprised you bottoming out in your back entrance. No easing into it, no finesse, just plain, old Seokjin penetrating your ass with his long finger as a punishment of some sort. But was it really punishment if you were enjoying it? It was not, but Seokjin didn’t need to know that.

You could feel every knuckle, every ridge of his digit grazing your tender insides; stretching you, sliding in and out with the help of your saliva on his index. You whined out loud shamelessly at the sensations, which only spurred the men to go faster. You saw it in his eyes: he was merciless.

“You like it, sweetheart? You like when we’re rough to you?” This time, Namjoon got up on his knees to speak to you, in his low, raspy register. You moaned and clenched on Seokjin really hard when his eyes fixated intently on yours. Like bewitched by his dominant aura, you nodded to him dumbly. “Oh yeah? Should we take it up a notch?” His brother got out of his way so he could descend on you and capture your mouth in another ardent kiss. His whole frame pinned you down, coercing you to accept whatever nibs and licks he was giving into your cavity – not that you weren’t willing to accept them in the first place, though.

Distracted enough by his searing kiss, he seized his chance to push down your bra and take hold of your left breast; most precisely, to take hold of your nipple between his index finger and thumb, and squeeze it. He swallowed every noise or gasp you made while squeezing and rolling your nipple until it hardened. Meanwhile, his older brother had made way for a second finger in your ass and was scissoring them to open you up more and more. All of this was way more than you expected, but in a good way.

“Please,” you gasped when Namjoon went to suck your lower lip. “untie me, please” you begged in a whine. If there was just one thing you would beg for tonight, it was for them to let your arms go, because having your own weight on them plus Namjoon’s was cutting your circulation fast. Both men stared at you pointedly. “I swear I’ll not try anything funny, I just can’t feel them anymore.”

None of them believe you; however, Namjoon gets off of you and turn your whole body over with a single move of his hand, getting off the bed too. Seokjin is quick to get you on your knees and get his fingers back into you, now adding a third. You face to the side to the night table just in time to see the younger man opening the drawer and getting out a small knife. Your heart accelerated at the prospect of real harm but you didn’t show it. It would only put you in disadvantage in front of the men.

Luckily for you, Namjoon only used the knife to cut the ropes that bound your wrists. You let them fall to your sides with a satisfied moan at being liberated, despite not being capable of moving them yet.

“Does the princess have any other request?” The younger Kim, who was the one that tied you in the first place, inquired sarcastically with a tilt of his head, toying with the tip of the weapon. Closing your eyes and exhaling heavily at one deeper thrust of Seokjin’s fingers, you nodded.

“Can you fuck me already? The fingering is getting boring” you taunted in a thread of voice, weakened at the feeling of Seokjin’s dry digits grazing harshly your insides. The aching in your fingered asshole only added to your over-stimulated body – and to add to it, you felt a sting on your right ass-cheek that spread all over your skin. It barely even hurt on your long-stimulated body; instead, it felt like electricity hitting right on your sensitive clit. Seokjin’s hand was big and heavy, and he slapped you one more time on the same place. You moaned when it echoed between your legs.

“Boring? I was being nice.” And he slapped now on your other cheek. You yelped. “I was being a gentleman and stretching you.” He hit you a couple more time on the tender and red flesh; you kept your eyes close since the first impact and whimpered but still took it like a good girl. While all of that was going on behind you, something sticky and wet rubbed on your upper lip. When you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of Namjoon’s monstruous cock pocking the corner of your mouth. You opened it to let him in, but he was content with painting your face with his precum. “But ungrateful whores like you don’t deserve niceness” Seokjin spat – figuratively and literally. You felt his spittle drip down the crack of your ass, and then, a hard rod impaling you.

You screamed out of surprise and the pain of being overstretched; the man’s fingers, as many as they were, did not compare in the slightest to his penis. The thick and curved meat hammered into you as soon as it entered, leaving you breathless with the vigor of the movement. Seokjin’s drove his hips into you with guttural groans and wild abandon, not giving you a moment to catch your breath. Honestly, you felt a little in love with the way he was rearranging your guts – and more so when you felt the tips of his fingers wandering on your clit.

“Ah, so now you finally have nothing to say?"

You were just about to give Seokjin an out of breath but clever retort, when Namjoon took advantage of your wide-open mouth and eased his own dick into it. Gentler than his older brother, he just glided his member in and out, more so to wet it with your saliva than to pleasure himself. Despite being a heartless hit man with no morals, he saw the overwhelming pounding Seokjin subjected you to and felt a little compassion for your clearly tired self.

Taking his cock out of your mouth, he started to fuck his own hand. You stared at him in confusion – didn’t he want to use you like his brother? – but you understood what he really wanted when he got his crotch closer to your face, still jacking himself off. Keeping your mouth open, you received one of Namjoon’s balls inside, slurping it right away. You licked and sucked on it hard, until you could hear him groan louder than the slapping of Seokjin’s hips into your ass. Letting saliva pool in your cavity, you soaked his nut thoroughly before passing to the other, and lave on it. Looking up pass the standing penis invading your vision, your eyes found Namjoon’s heated ones; you just now looked at him but his piercing dragon eyes hadn’t left your face not even for a second.

You intuited there was something behind his intense staring, but Seokjin’s hand snaked, once more, to your scalp and grasped, hair tightly in a fist and pulled back.

“You’re slacking. Weren’t you supposed to lure us to ruin with a good fuck?”

Namjoon seated with his back on the headrest and his legs on each side of where you and his brother were on your knees. Seokjin, with the zero consideration he had with you, threw you sideways onto his brother and you realized he wanted you to face him now. You smirked and gulped enough air to push his buttons again.

“You’re the one doing all the work. Can’t you not even satisfy yourself? Maybe the problem isn’t me but that teeny weeny peanut dick.” You saw a frown appear on Seokjin’s handsome face and, next thing you knew, his hand was coming down to slap you on the cheek. Just like the slaps in your ass, this one stung but send waves of electricity all over your skin. You groaned and put your still weak hand on your cheek to sooth the dull pain. “You’re too easy to work up, dude. Insecure much?” you sneered.

The man’s response was to take hold of your legs and open them to fit himself. He moved close enough to your body that you felt every inch of his manhood when he grinded it roughly in between your folds, which, at this point, were drenched and dripping, and that only made the glide very slippery. You moaned when his tip aimed to your nub, hitting the bundle of nerves repeatedly. He just grunted.

Behind you, Namjoon got his hands on your breasts, massaging them almost tenderly, while his hips thrusted up a little until his member lodged between your asscheeks. You didn’t expect his lips roaming on your neck, and much less for him to leave open-mouthed kisses and a trail of saliva there where his tongue licked; you were too distracted squealing as Seokjin gripped your waist and rammed his cock into your pussy in one go. By now, after everything you went through, nothing too soft or vanilla would satisfy you enough; the spark of excitement was always missing when men fucked you slowly and carefully. You were a woman of action, of adrenaline – so you liked how he was rough and wild.

“Are you liking how Seokjin fucks your pussy, baby?” Namjoon murmured right in your ear before taking your earlobe between his lips and sucking it. He was the real menace. “You want him to fill you up? Because, I’ll tell you a secret,” If it wasn’t for his closeness – his mouth glued to your ear – you wouldn’t be capable of hearing him due to the smacking of skin with skin and the blood that was rushing in your ears. “That’s all he thought about since he found you.” Through half lidded eyes, you looked up at the older man while Namjoon kept talking. “Fill you until you were gushing with his cum. Mark you as his bitch, he said.” He cupped your breasts and played with both your nipples, but you couldn’t even close your eyes at the feeling because you couldn’t miss even a second of the sight Seokjin was.

You didn’t really like him like that, but it was undeniable that he was one of the most beautiful men you have seen – now more than ever. His face was flushed and glowing, with a drop of sweat down his side; his full and bitten-red lips a little open in a panting; his cold stare down to you, judging you, hating you, and yet, fucking you franticly… And you haven’t even started on his god-like body. If you had to be attracted to someone, it would be someone like him: heartless, vain, profane. Someone not afraid of wanting, not afraid of taking.

“And, you know? Good bitches have to be bred.” Out of a sudden, Namjoon had his fingers shamelessly torturing your clitoris. You squeeze Seokjin’s member and moaned in a high-pitch, feeling your insides tightening fast. “That’s why we brought you, to stuff you with cum until our bitch is well bred– fucked until you beg to be filled over and over again.” Your breath shook as a result of his words, and your core was clenching until the point of no return. Just then, the older Kim reangled himself and penetrated you deeper, nudging all your hot insides with the tip of his long cock. “Would you like that, sweetheart? For us to put a baby into you? To fuck you until you´re round and can do nothing but take our cocks in all your holes all day?” The speed of his digits on you increased, rubbing past the hood that covered you most sensitive part. You cried when he started touching directly on the nervous nub. “Come on, baby, I know you want it. Beg for it.”

“Ye-yes” you exhaled, overwhelmed with sensations. You were so close that anything you heard sounded hot and cum-inducing. Being reduced to a bearing slave and a hole to warm their cocks? Hell yeah. “I wa-want you to – want you to b-breed me. Please!” With a sharp movement of his index finger, Namjoon made your tense core snap. You cried louder when your climax hit you all at once; your cunt tensed and gripped Seokjin like a vice, while all blood flushed down south of your body and electricity ran all on your clit, folds and thighs. For a second, everything was white and muted, and Seokjin’s clash with your body prolonged your climax, sending wave after wave of more electricity. “Please, breed me. I’m your bitch, cum in me, please” you murmured in the middle of ecstasy. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut normally, much less in that mind-altering moment.

Seokjin stopped for a moment, releasing your legs, though you didn’t realize it until you felt his tongue forcing his way into your mouth. You had no energy to kiss him back, but it was not needed; he took your jaw and forced your lips to apart with his. Once again, he licked all inside your cavity, brushing your tongue with his and sucking each of your lips until they were red. You let him do as he pleased, and it even felt quite nice to make out so passionately after cumming so hard.

However, none of the men had cummed yet. Still hazed, you felt strong arms hooking under your knees and lifting you, causing you to circle your arms around a neck to avoid falling. You hugged yourself to Seokjin while he got up from the bed and stood on the floor beside it – cock never leaving your pussy. Focusing again on reality, you felt the heat of Namjoon’s body behind you when his skin sticked to yours. With an extraordinary strength you didn’t know he had, Seokjin moved your body up on his standing dick and down until he bottomed out. From this upright position, gravity naturally made your body go lower and the thick penis go deeper. You whined from overstimulation.

“Shush, whore. Didn’t you wanna be bred? This is how filthy whores have their cunt filled” the older brother grunted. You whined louder like the brattiest of brats just to annoy him. At this point he could only roll his eyes to you. Though your fun didn’t last long – next time Seokjin pulled you down, you found yourself filled to the brim suddenly.

It took a little patience and team work from all parties to make both of them fit into your pussy at the same time. You whimpered for real the whole time, closing your eyes tightly, because you were stretched to the limit, and despite having done this before, it was never with two cocks that large. Between shaky exhales, you felt Namjoon tonguing at the spot under your ear and nibbling his way to the base of your throat.

“Holy shit, it’s better than I thought” Seokjin groaned, half lidded eyes posed on your strained face. “Do you like your cunt stuffed like this, baby?” He saw the intention to clapback when you barely opened your eyes, so he thrusted the tiniest bit up to tear a yelp off of you. He admitted to himself that he kind of admired your tenacity; you came this far and never once had you showed the littlest trace of fear or regret – no, you kept pushing and challenging them even in that moment. It really was admirable how far you would go for your fortune.

Finally, you felt yourself reaching the base of their penises, with much, much effort. You couldn’t think, much less utter a single word from how overwhelmed you felt. All you could do was gasp and gape like a fish, digging your fingers on Seokjin’s shoulder – who was enjoying every second of your helplessness. Having you at his mercy was all he had thought about for years, and all he had needed was patience and time. And there you were.

“You turned out just a meek kitten, baby” Namjoon commented on your left ear, swiveling his hips slowly into you. “I don’t like proving Seokjin right and I told him he was fucking crazy with this stupid plan, but here we are.” Both of them secured their hold on your legs, and just like that started moving taking turns; each time one was out, the other penetrated you with a hard thrust.

“Told you this dumb whore would fall for it” Seokjin grunted, looking down at the place where all three of you connected. “She thinks running a business is fucking people and that’s it. ‘Cause that’s how you made your way to the top, right? There’s no other way for you to get anywhere, as useless as you are.” Seokjin was really, really into degrading you. He spat his words to your face with the utmost disgust, pounding into you harder whenever he said something demeaning. “You’d been a disgusting slut since daddy gave you the wheel, hadn’t you? Letting anybody use your cunt, dripping everywhere you go with any bastard’s cum.”

Now they were really getting into it – and so were you. Heat stirred up in your core again and you found yourself panting and whimpering, needing more. You opened your glazed eyes and focused on Seokjin, expecting he catches up the silent begging. He did, but he would make you suffer before anything.

“It was going to be a surprise, baby, but your beautiful, tortured face is weakening me a little so I’ll tell you.” Still shaking you everywhere with their pounding, the older of the brothers got his mouth on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and he bitted hard enough to hurt. When he heard you scream, he sucked the tender spot and laved his tongue on the dents he left, before getting right by your right ear to talk. “You’ll stay here with us. We will shoot your brother, steal your kingdom and make everything, including you, Kim property.”

Namjoon fucks into you at the last sentence, not waiting for his brother to be fully out. You shout as he fills you suddenly; the pressure of his entire cock inside of you, alongside the half Seokjin didn’t get out, got your whole body quivering. A collective gasp echoed in the room, and after that, the smacking of skin with skin resumed.

“You know what your future here holds, baby? It was true, we will knock you up,” Namjoon’s satin voice paired with his ramming into you every time he said will made goosebumps run up your spine and your insides to tighten. “We will make you bear our children, and we will make you tend to them only for the rest of your life. What about that, baby? The great mafia princess lessened into a breeding machine, good for nothing but popping out our babies.”

After hearing his brother, Seokjin begins fucking into you rougher, more urgent, moving one hand to your throat so you won’t look anywhere but at him as he fucks you. Sweat was making it difficult for you to keep your hold on his strained biceps so, in a particularly hard thrust, you sank your fingers, nails and all, deep onto his skin with a moan. Both brothers bang into you together, cocks heedlessly slamming and dragging over your walls, their pace picking up as they jackhammered into your pussy at the same time, into the same spot. They were rubbing your insides raw; sensitive skin swollen and unbearably tender, way past the point of pain and pushing into pleasure.

“This is your life now, sweetheart” Seokjin panted on your face, now holding you by the jaw. “Get used to being my bitch because I’ve been waiting for too long to fuck” he thrusted up with force. “my seed” His brother caught on his rhythm and now you had to cocks punctuating every word with rough movements. “into you.” With one last pound of the two members, filling ridiculously stretched and overly sensitive inside and out – and with a single stroke of Namjoon’s magic fingers on your clit – you tip over the edge. You scream, your muscles tense everywhere like a rubber band before releasing all at once, and both men keep fucking you despite you blacking out for a moment.

Fucking themselves into you, both brothers knew they wouldn’t last much longer given how you clenched around them, your walls throbbing alongside their cocks. Unable to hold out anymore, Namjoon groans low, hips getting sloppier as he started pumping his come deep into you. It just took Seokjin one more spasm from your cunt to moan loud and long and come beside his brother, white ropes filling you up as both of them continued to fuck every last drop inside. White, liquid cum seeped from your pussy and between their joined members to their thighs. All of your chests heaved in and out to catch your breaths, and just then they realized you let yourself fall onto Seokjin, body liquified and mind still out there.

[numinousher]

CHANTAJE! (xxv)

SUMMARY: being under the watchful eye of the media and your fans, your managers are in desperate need of regaining back your popularity after other influencers who hate you cause mayhem to your life. what best way to do so by having you pretend to be in a relationship with the popular 7 who are known to be intensely wealthy and stoic? will you be able to regain their trust or will they go with their promise of damaging your reputation even more?

WARNING(S) FOR LATER: gore/blood/murder, harassment/bullying, mental health talks (nothing badly triggering), child endangerment (mc was a child actor, again nothing badly triggering. if there is, there will be a warning)

NOTE: ahhhhh next chapter will need to be listened to with wildflower by billie eilish pls

TAGLIST (CLOSED): @parapiop7 @an-ever-angry-bi @softforyoongles @thenaverse @chansatlan @juju-227592 @skyys-universe @carolinexkpop @reallysparklychaos @namjooncrabs @savagemickey03 @drunkzseok @svnbangtansworld @2ne1unni

“That star is orange.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Jin, I get you’re old and you can’t see, but that star is for sure orange or some type of color,” you said, pointing directly at the star you were pointing at so Jin could see.

You two were night seeing stars for some reason. You two had wanted to go out to eat, but he had messed up the time and reservation, so he just ordered food to your place and you two put some blankets on the grass.

“You’re fucking with me that’s it,” Jim scoffed out, squinting his eyes to see the star you were pointing at better. “Girl, I cannot see shit.”

“You have such a potty mouth for one that is the oldest,” you said with amusement, looking down at his figure lying down on the grass. “Also, remind me to get you some binoculars or some shit because how can you not see it?”

“Leave me alone,” Jin groaned, softly pushing you away. “I see it now. Happy?”

“Well, now I feel like you said that out of pity,” you said with a noise while simultaneously crossing your arms dramatically. “We suck at this. We can go inside to look at some movie.”

“Can we see one of yours?” He suggested, standing up and sticking his hand out to help you get on your feet. You scrunched your nose as you two got the food to take it inside. “Come on, I haven’t seen one.”

“Fine,” you dragged out. You two walked back inside your room, heading immediately towards the living room so you could put one of your movies. “Sad, rom-com, action, or psychological horror?”

“Sad, I feel like crying today,” he replied. He sat down on the side closer to the door and waited until you put on one of your sad movies. It was everyone’s favorite genre so of course you had more than one. Just like how so many actors were given a title, yours was “she’s mostly known for being in sad movies.” You didn’t know whether you should take it as a compliment, but you did. It was nice being known as that since you did a good job causing tears.

You and Jin sat on the couch for 2 hours, watching your film, “Color Blue.” He went watching it without knowing the plot (you didn’t want to tell him) and now he was suffering the consequences. You were sobbing, he was sobbing, tissues were spread everything (just the table), and he was left hurt at the ending.

“That was it?” He sniffed. “What the hell? He just leaves? He just disappears like that?”

You sniff. “It’s insinuated she met the love of her life shortly after he left. He was her first love but, it was never supposed to be a forever thing due to this circumstances.”

“I hate your fucking movie, what the fuck?” Jin continued to sniff before a sob escaped his mouth. “That’s enough. I don’t want to see more.”

“Can you drive?” You sniffle, placing the tissue on your nose. “Should I call one of the boys?”

“Yeah, call one of those idiots,” Jin said considering the fact you two have been together since 8 AM.

You two didn’t do a lot. He and the others find so much comfort in your home they love lying around on your couch or on your bed. You don’t know why but he and the others have said your house smells like pumpkin and cinnamon, which would be a nice scent for fall.

You took it as a compliment.

You couldn’t help but swoon over Jin’s looks and the way he truly was an awkward person like you have been told. He does have some confidence, but he mostly uses that when he needs to. He used that when you two went to the store to buy some things you two needed for dinner.

You two had to leave, though, when it got a bit swarmed with fans.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you sniff before you and Jin simultaneously sobbed at the credit scene. You had forgotten a montage of your character and his favorite character was shown.

“Are you two okay?” Yoongi asked, standing up from his chair to look at his wristwatch. He looked at Jimin, gesturing for him while he grabbed his keys. “Hey, why are you two crying?”

They could just hear you both sobbing.

“He didn’t deserve that!” Jin exclaimed.

“It needed to end like that so she could meet him!”

As you two cried, Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung (they didn’t know where he came from) headed to the car parked in front of their house.

“Hurry up,” Jimin hissed. He had forgotten how slow of a driver Yoongi was.

After 10 minutes, they arrived to your house. Yoongi did break a couple of laws here and there but, they did get to your house unharmed.

Yoongi and Jimin had gotten out of the car when Taehyung did, which Jimin immediately stopped him for.

“What?” Taehyung scoffed as soon as Jimin stood in front of him, hands placed on his chest to prevent him from walking any further. “Let me go.”

“No,” Jimin replied with a frown. “Stay here. I’ll come get you once I make sure they’re fine.” Taehyung opened his mouth to argue but Jimin shushed him with a glare. “You will go crazy if you find out they’re hurt. Stay here. I am not fucking kidding.”

Once he made sure he wasn’t following, Jimin hurried into your house with such speed he was surprised he didn’t trip over your front stairs.

“They’re fine!” Yoongi exclaimed. Jimin appeared next to him, out of breath, chest heaving up and down. “They’re crying over a movie.”

“I-” Jimin gaped. He eyed the two figures on the couch hugging each other, holding on for dear life, almost as if they were to detach one would disappear. “What movie did you guys watch?”

“Color Blue,” you and Jin sobbed out, hugging each other tighter.

“Isn’t that your movie, Y/n?” Yoongi asked, eyebrows furrowing together. He glanced at your face on the screen, smiling at another character. “Why are you crying? Don’t you know the plot?”

“It still hurts, okay?” You cried out, throwing him a plushie. He easily caught it with one hand. “I’m such a good actress.”

“Yeah, you are,” Jin agreed, nodding his head rapidly.

Jimin sighed. “Okay, okay, come on.” He separated you two, letting Yoongi comfort you while he comforted Jin. “You big babies. Why are you watching a sad movie?”

“Jin said so,” you answered, grabbing another tissue and dabbing your nose.

“Of course he did. Jin loves sad movies.”

“I love the feeling it gives me.”

Jimin shook his head at his words. “See?” He placed a hand on the back of your head, lightly scratching your scalp while the other scratched Jin’s. “It’s okay, honey. Your movies are great. It’s just fictional.”

“It didn’t feel fictional,” Jin said, calming down. His eyes did tear up, though. “Oh, my God. They deserved their happy ending.”

“Jin, they did get their happy ending,” you sniffed. He looked at you and you gesture at the movie. “The guy at the end, his voice matches the other guys. Why do you think?”

He stayed silent before he gasped. “No way!”

“Yes!”

“What is the movie about?” Jimin whispered to Yoongi while you and Jin babbled.

“He ends up disappearing at the end,” Yoongi quickly answered in hopes you two wouldn’t listen. Just in case you two burst out crying again. “No one knows why he disappeared but, the next scene takes place months later after that. The movie ends with the audience hearing a voice that sounds just like his.”

Jimin frowned. That sounds sad.

He sighed.

“Okay, guys, come on,” he said, ushering Jin to stand up. “It’s late and we have work tomorrow so you mister,” he patted Jin’s shoulders, “need to sleep early.”

He nodded.

“Where’s Taehyung?” Yoongi asked, watching Jimin grabbing onto Jin as best as he could. His head swerved side to side. “I thought he was behind us.”

“I told him to stay in the car or else he was going to go—”

“Are they okay?” Taehyung exclaimed, coming inside the home. Jimin gulped at the intensity of his voice and let Yoongi reply that yes, you and Jin were crying and were fine. A movie of yours just made you two cry.

“Stop him before he heads to her,” Jimin rushed out, the two of them—Jin, too—heading towards Taehyung’s way to stop him from seeing you.

Yes, he loved Jin, he loved him so much. But he has never seen you cry, unlike Jin. So, he was definitely going to head to you with his heart hammering against his chest, his hands balled up into fists, his lips slightly parted, and his need for you stronger than ever.

“Taehyung, she’s fine.”

Jimin blocked Taehyung’s path, but that didn’t stop the man. He softly pushed Jimin away, eyes set on you.

“Taehyung.”

Taehyung ignored the calls for his name and took long strides to reach you, hand traveling down to grip your wrist, and his other helping you stand up.

In a blink of an eye, his hand slithered around to wrap it around your waist, letting his palm rest on the small of your back. He brought you closer, his other hand traveling up your arm, to your shoulder, until it reached the back of your head. His lips were brushing against yours, breaths tingling and intertwining with the others, and you swore your lips were pulling to his like they were magnets.

His thumbs brushed away your tears.

“Give me permission to kiss you and I’ll do it,” he breathed out, holding you like he was inhaling you. “If that’s what will make you better.”

“You’re not asking,” you mumbled in a breath, your nose being hit by the faint smell of his cologne.

“Fuck, I just need to kiss you so badly, please,” he pleaded, fingers slightly gripping your hip until white dents were left behind in their wake. “Please.”

You nodded rapidly against his hold.

He breathed in and kissed you with such intensity and desire, almost as if he had been holding back for years from kissing you. Soft, muffled moans escaped his mouth into yours, his hand gripping your hair a bit tighter to bring you even closer.

“He’s devouring her,” Jimin whispered to the others while they watched you two make out almost in need. “I told you bringing him here was a bad—Taehyung, put her down.”

They watched Taehyung pick you up from the ground, hand situated on your ass while the other gripped your thigh. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, and your lips still on his despite the change of position.

Kissing Taehyung felt like drinking water after being dehydrated for days, you noted.

His lips felt soft and the way he held you, touched you, and talked to you was enough for you to feel everything all at once. Every single guy made you feel more than you bargained for and you don’t know how to act. None of them knew how to act, either.

“No,” Taehyung dismissed Jimin, placing you on the wall with his hands still in his desired places. God, kissing you was a blessing itself, but having you in his hands all to himself was enough to keep him so happy and relieved. Kissing you was something. “She’s mine.”

“Okay, possessive bitch, leave her alone,” Jimin scoffed out, crossing his arms. Though, he couldn’t help but admit he loved watching you two fully make out in your home. Your safe place. “Make some space for me.”

Jin and Yoongi watched you and Taehyung go from kissing each other to now taking turns kissing the other person added. Your legs had unwrapped themselves from Taehyung’s waist, your feet now placed on the floor, and you were in between both men, caged in their arms, your lips smacking against Jimin’s and then Taehyung’s back and forth.

“This is a bad idea,” Yoongi sighed, shaking his head. “They’re eating her alive.”

“At least they won’t come to you every second of the day to ask for that,” Jin said with a chuckle, finding the scenery amusing. He glanced down at his watch. “It is getting late. Oh, God. That movie has some type of magic, my chest hurt for a sec, I swear.”

Yoongi nodded in agreement. “I know. I watched the movie by myself when I was sick and I couldn’t finish it. It was too painful.”

They continued to watch you three make out, their eyes following your guys’ hands touching and yearning for each other.

They weren’t going to lie but, they felt something in the pit of their stomachs just looking at you three.

Jimin and Taehyung’s hands gripped your waist, bringing you closer. Their breaths intertwined with your own, their moans, too. They kissed you as if you were going to leave, as if you would disappear if they stopped. What did you do to ever deserve this? And what did they ever do to be blessed with you? Not enough. They’ll do more for you. If you want the moon, they’ll find a way to buy it and name it after you. If you want the stars, they’ll buy every sparkly little piece of shit and name it after you. Your name deserves to grace beautiful things because you are the most beautiful of them all. Everyone deserves to utter your name when they look at the things the universe has graced them with.

“I need to breathe,” you softly breathe out, your hands on the back of their heads. You softly gasped as Taehyung’s lips trailed down your neck and Jimin claimed your lips again, both equally as bruising.

Jimin chuckled at the noise and looked at Taehyung. “Taehyung, let her breathe.”

Taehyung shook his head, teeth grazing the skin of your neck to suck on it. His lips kissed each mark he left behind before looking at you with the same hooded eyes he looked at you with.

“Do you want to breathe, angel?” He muttered, holding your face closer to his while the pad of his thumb ran itself over your bottom glossy lip. “Hmm?”

“Just for a sec.”

He smiled before he rubbed his lips against yours. “One.” As you went to ask him what he meant by that number, he kissed you. Jimin snorted and backed away, shaking his head.

“He’s much more tamer compared to when he got together with us,” he noted, very amused. “Should we warn her about that?”

Yoongi scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re going to scare her off before she could kiss us.” He gave you two one more look before he turned around. “Let the poor girl breathe, Taehyung. Pretty sure she’s about to faint.”

“I think I’m about to faint because of how it feels,” Taehyung muttered out loud, taking you back to the wall so he could feel you up better that way.

“He’s acting like a starved man,” Jin whispered rather dramatically, looking at you with worry. “I feel like we would lock him away for her safety, God.”

“Taehyung!” Jin snapped.

Taehyung didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned back a bit, looking at them over his shoulder. He hummed, staring back at you and kissing your lips softly.

“Come on, you can see her tomorrow,” Jimin snorted out, loving the way you were much more comfortable.

“Why?” Taehyung muttered, tracing your lips. He couldn’t like away from them and your eyes. Your pretty eyes, such pretty eyes. He softly groaned. “God, don’t look at me like that please.”

“Taehyung.”

“You drive me so fucking crazy I’ll do anything for you,” he whispered as if it was a secret.

“Taehyung.”

“The way you taste and smell,” he continued to speak in a hush voice, lips trailing from your jawbone to your neck, “I could devour you whole.” He raised his head to look at you from under his lashes, his hand bringing up one of yours to kiss. “Will you let me?”

You smile and could see over his shoulder that the boys were looking at you three with happy eyes.

“Taehyung, if I say yes,” you started, “will you go home and go to sleep?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until I have you,” he said, not looking away from your lips.

“Okay, you can see her tomorrow,” Jimin scoffed with a smile. He dragged Taehyung away from you, ignoring his attempts to convince him to let him go so he can stay here in your home. Yoongi grabbed him away. “Sweet dreams, pretty girl.”

Jimin kissed you on the lips, backing away to taste your chapstick. “Wear that flavor. It tastes good.”

You snorted and led them out, watching Yoongi and Jin place a desperate Taehyung on the backseat. You stood on your driveway and waved. Jin came back to give you a kiss on the forehead and Yoongi, much to everyone’s surprise, gave you a quick peck. His left you gasping in surprise. You couldn’t even enjoy it.

“Bye, angel.”

“Bye…”

Everyone was busy the next day Taehyung swore he would die if he didn’t see in that exact moment.

He was tugging on his hair until Hoseok had to intervene, slapping his hands away.

He was dozing off, thinking about you and the pillow talk you would have after spending the night together.

He was loving the way his brain would visualize how life would be with you in their relationship, complete. He can die happily knowing that he has all the loves of his life with him.

Jin couldn’t stop thinking about you, on the other hand. None of them could stop. You were so embedded in their brains, they swore they could hear your voice until they snapped their heads and you weren’t there.

What have you done to them?

What type of spell have you put on them?

They didn’t know what but, they loved thinking of you, and they couldn’t complain. No. They couldn’t and they wouldn’t.

It was 6 PM.

You have been “together” for 2 to 3-ish months today.

You maintained lowkey and on the low, and managed to convince everyone that you two were in a relationship. You had doubters here and there but nothing serious.

As for your allegations, there hasn’t been an improvement. It’s hard knowing who did it and not being able to point fingers because you do not have evidence or anything valuable of some sorts.

6:30 PM.

You were in a meeting with Jae and Jake, talking about the new movie you were with Hyung-min that you two have been going over with together. He was there, too, but he was a bit farther away from you. He didn’t want to even hug you just in case he accidentally hurt you.

At 6:32 PM, your phone went off.

At 6:33 PM, your phone went off again.

And again.

At 6:36, Jae’s went off next.

Then Jake’s.

Jae looked at her phone once she noticed you simply shut yours off and just as she was going to shut it off, too, she eyed her notifications.

Her eyes widened and she stood up.

“Oh, no.”

You frown and look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Y/n… do not go on your phone,” she strictly told you, still looking at her phone. She was typing away and Jake, having looked down at his phone, too, felt his shoulders tense. “Call her PR team. Call the president of the company and alert a meeting ASAP.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” You frown, standing up alongside Hyung-min who had glanced at his phone, too, to see what had his girlfriend panicked. “Jae?”

“Babe, it came out,” Jae stressed, fixing her glasses slipping from the bridge of her nose.

“What did?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest, your hands becoming clammy at the thought of something of yours coming out. “Jae?”

“That stupid thing Namjoon was threatening you with,” she snapped. She calmed herself down. She didn’t even feel this stressed over your bullying allegations. “Remember he said he had something about your sister?” You nodded. “Honey, it got leaked. It’s everywhere.”

“What?” You froze. Your brain froze. Your thoughts were not circulating no more, and you felt numb. “What? Give me the phone.”

You snatched her phone away from her hands and read the article she was reading.

Your chest heaved up and down at coming to see she was telling the truth.

“This can’t be happening. This can’t.”

“I know…”

“I hid that for a reason!” You exclaimed, starting to pace. Hyung-min stood next to you, comforting you. You breathed in and out harshly. “Oh, my God…”

Your secret was out.

< before - after >

[howlsofbloodhounds]

tell me, certified killer mutual, what your pet peeves are in killer ships and what you like in them/how to make them good……

you are my something new encyclopedia at this point and as a kross/krepic lover i must ask what i need to keep in mind to make things balanced and good…. because killer is grossly ignored in ships involving him!!!

oftentimes he is treated like something used to forward the plot or focus on other characters and often do not focus on him (with the exception of colorkiller) like they should. i don’t try to do that exactly but you know a lot bout him and id really appreciate and enjoy tips on writing him in a relationship in a way that’s tasteful and good for his character :3

Oh i haven’t really thought all the pet peeves through, besides the idea that I want it be earned and I want Killer to be his own complex individual. So I’ll just want take this opportunity to rant about some thoughts I’ve had about Killer and relationships in general, mostly in Stage 2 as that is often the Stage people will meet him in. This isn’t meant to be a definitive be all of “you have to do this” or anything, just thoughts.

First thing would probably be that Killer doesn’t choose partners based strictly on attraction or feelings, not in Stage 2.

If there’s a benefit in being in a romantic relationship with someone and there doesn’t seem to be an alternative to gaining that outcome—such as access to someone’s soul, for example, and he’s really interested in their soul for a particular reason—he’d probably be willing to engage in a romantic relationship if that seems to be the only way to get what he needs and fulfill his goals.

He’s not romantically or sexually interested in this person, going through the motions of a relationship without much emotional investment in this case. It may be different if he gets involved in a relationship out of an impulsive curiosity or drive for something new, out of a sense of boredom or a distraction.

If the partner isn’t pursuing this relationship first, they may start feeling used or that there’s some other motive going on here; perhaps even a sense of being preyed on (not like that, ya know, and likely not with malicious or cruel intent, even if the partner doesn’t realize that.)

Killer views relationships as a form of power dynamics: “control or be controlled.”

He could enter a relationship to avoid being controlled by someone he perceives as a threat or authority. Becoming docile or compliant could be a survival strategy, especially if he believes the person has influence over him (like the Player, Nightmare, or another powerful figure). Fawn response is likely.

Conversely, he might pursue a relationship with someone weaker or more dependent, feeling safer when he holds the perceived upper hand. (Less likely, as he’d probably prefer to avoid relationships entirely if there’s no need or reason to be in one that he can see.)

(Safer as in he genuinely fears what’ll happen to him if he loses this control, what they’ll do to him and his mind. He’s not hiding behind power or control for power and controls sake, but because he believes that’s the only way to maintain even a sliver of freedom or agency—and he’d be pretty ruthless to maintain this, given how he treats Swap.

Examples such as pushing him to try and “feel again” or triggering Stage 1 in jarring, upsetting, and traumatic ways.)

He’s drawn into a relationship for tangible or strategic benefits (e.g., protection, access to resources, fulfilling a mission, and not consciously, validation and acknowledgment—even if through the means of masochism or sadism directed at him or towards him.)

Emotional connections are not a motivating factor unless he becomes attached, and even then, his apathy often masks deeper feelings.

Though he is emotionally detached, Killer might engage in relationships to fill a void, especially if the other person makes him feel “seen” or real.

The Player’s influence looms large in Killer’s life. He would act in a way that aligns with what he believes the Player wants, which could include romantic relationships.

If he sees the Player as controlling his choices or wanting him to do something, he may either accept this control passively or react with aggression if he feels threatened.

His actions in relationships could often be influenced by what he believes the Player would approve of.

His programming under could make him believe he should be in relationships if ordered to or if it aligns with the mission or goals. He may also mirror what others expect or desire, using charm to manipulate or deflect.

(Such in Bad Sanses AUs, utilizing attachments and emotions to perform his duties as Nightmare’s Right Hand and keep subordinates loyal and attached, therefore less likely to leave, therefore less likely for Killer to be punished or deemed useless.)

When in relationships where he’s not attached to his partner(s), he would maintain his extroverted, silly facade, using humor and charm to deflect scrutiny. Any signs of vulnerability would be carefully masked.

These relationships would serve a purpose. He would observe and exploit the other person’s weaknesses or desires to gain control or minimize threats.

Killer would remain emotionally distant, treating the relationship as a transaction or game to maintain his apathy and avoid deeper connections.

If the other person has power over him (or he believes they do), he might appear docile or submissive, following their lead to avoid punishment or conflict outwardly while subtly trying to regain small moments of control or even just express resentment through passive aggression.

If he is attached, it would confuse Killer, as it clashes with his belief in the futility of emotional connections. He might deny or suppress feelings, fearing they make him vulnerable and will be used to further control him and use him.

While he may not admit it, attachment could manifest in small, unconscious gestures, such as taking care of the person’s needs, (similar to how he cares for stray cats) and acts of service (often rather extreme).

He’d likely find it extremely hard to accept care from others, because it causes such confusion and distress and conflicts with what he’s used to, and will make him feel unsafe —likely causing him to dissociate and derealize, unable to accept what’s happening as real or trust that it is, even if it feels good and comes to crave it.

Especially if this affection feels forced onto him, if he believes he can’t reject it or struggles to even realize that he doesn’t want it—which would likely subconsciously turn him off from asking for or seeking out affection from his partner(s), even if he passively accepts when they give him it to him or when they ask it from him. Like a cat, he wants affection on his own terms—even if he doesn’t realize he’s allowed to have terms or wants.

He feels threatened when approached first — either likely to throw his weight around through LV like a puffed up hissy cat like he did to Swap, or passively accept and resign himself to it if he feels like he can’t resist or that it’d be pointless to.

If the relationship becomes a rare source of validation or comfort, he would become possessive, or fear losing control, though he would mask these feelings with cynicism or humor.

Killer would likely push the other person away to avoid being controlled or hurt, especially if he feels the relationship challenges his emotional detachment or survival instincts. For him, emotions often do and (often were) dangerous and life threatening. This is how he’s been taught to view them.

Killer would likely approach relationships with a fatalistic mindset, believing they are ultimately meaningless and doomed. He might justify his involvement by thinking, “It’s just something to do.”

He is hyper-aware of power dynamics. If he feels controlled, he may resent the relationship but comply out of fear or habit. If he feels in control, he may feel safer but detached.

Emotional intimacy terrifies him, as it threatens the protective barrier of his apathy—and his in cases like with Color, his apathy and disconnect works against him when he struggles to connect emotionally even when he wants to, unable to tell if anything he felt or thought in Stage 1 was real or not. Any genuine feelings would provoke confusion, shame, or fear of exploitation or abuse, losing control, and dissociation.

Killer’s detachment from his identity as Sans makes him feel unworthy or incapable of genuine connection, reinforcing his apathy and cynicism.

When controlled or viewing it this way, Killer may become submissive or compliant, viewing the relationship as inevitable and something incapable of saying no or resisting against. He would use his facade to avoid punishment or suspicion while quietly assessing how to regain control.

When in control or viewing it that way, he would behave more confidently and playfully, seeing the relationship as a source of entertainment or advantage. However, his detachment would prevent him from fully engaging emotionally.

I’d say he needs to be needed—especially if there’s a perceived power dynamic regardless of attachment or not, as to him his usefulness dictates his right to continue existence and he can’t conceive being wanted for anything besides what he and his body can do and is able to handle.

If he thinks he needs someone for some reason, or in a case similar to Color—needs and wants someone—he’d adapt to whatever they seem to need or want from him.

In cases like Nightmare it’d be to the extent of what avoids inconvenience or being discarded and replaced because he thinks he needs Nightmare, in others where he needs something somethings from someone like their soul (as opposed to needing them) it’ll be until he can gain access to that soul.

In cases like Color (where Color is viewed as stronger than him), where there’s nothing Color seems to want from him and nothing Color seems to want to use him for and yet Color has put all this time and effort into him

anyhow and he thinks he needs (but also wants) Color—he gives Color reasons to keep him around.

if Color wants nothing more than a friend from him, then he’ll be the best friend he could ever have. And Color would never want anyone else.

He just has to figure out what the Hell being a friend means to Color..

He’s unlikely to agonize over things like “what if having these types of feelings ruin this type of relationship? Or what if doing or saying this makes it awkward?” the way he might in Stage 1.

This is where his possessiveness and terrortital (and honestly borderline obsessiveness with Color, even if he tries to hide it) tendencies come in.

He’s Color’s best friend because that’s what Color seems to want from him. Not because he cares about the concept of friendship on its own. To him, Color is his. He needs him, and wants him—although that last one may take the back seat a lot in comparison to what Color wants. He’ll be whatever makes Color keep him around.

With others he may view as friends—which he likely wouldn’t seek out himself without a functional purpose such curiosity, need, or convenience and would likely question the motives of anyone trying to approach him claiming to want to be friends—he’d keep a distance if they haven’t become something like what he with Color, wouldn’t expect much emotional depth and would likely have a general disinterest towards others if there’s nothing new about them enough to catch his attention.

He’d avoid emotional demands and would likely be highly uncomfortable with neediness from others or even resentful, even if he doesn’t express it outwardly—especially if he feels they’re trying to control him with their emotions and expectations, often leaving him feeling trapped in the relationship and with that the fear of basically being enslaved and subjugated.

He may crave validation and attention, but only in ways that don’t require him to open up or feel vulnerable—especially with those he doesn’t trust, feel safe with, or connected to.

He may classify those close to him as something like this; those he needs, those who serve a purpose in keeping him grounded or engaged, or those whose absence would leave a significant hole.

Basically, if anyone attempts to do anything like what Swap did (when’s he’s still under Nightmare, as opposed to another ending such as when he’s with Color)—regardless of their intentions—it’s likely to end very badly for them.

As in Killer would sooner beat them half to death to make them leave him alone and give up than allow anyone to have control over him again, or be forced to “feel again” or deal with the fear and pain of being forced into Stage 1 and all the memories and emotions associated with it. Of being weak.

And if they keep sticking around after he’s made it clear he doesn’t want them around him, shoving themselves into his life, he’d clearly take it as free reign to have some “fun” with them and assert control if they really want to be in his life and “help him” and “be his friend” so damn much. And he’d blame them for their own pain, as it’s “not his fault they are weak.”

I think Killer would need someone who can offer emotional stability and security. Given his detachment and fear of vulnerability, he craves someone who provides a sense of calm and reassurance. This person would need to be able to ground him, helping him feel less emotionally adrift and detached from reality.

Killer’s fear of abandonment and emotional numbness make him cling to consistency. He would need someone who is reliably present, offering him a sense of continuity and comfort. A partner who is emotionally available and can consistently demonstrate that they’re there for him would be highly valued, even if Killer doesn’t openly show it.

Killer’s trauma and emotional turmoil often lead him to believe that he’s fundamentally broken and unworthy. A partner who can accept him as he is, without pressuring him to change or revealing too much, would be essential. Killer needs someone who won’t push him to be someone else but will accept his detached, cynical persona and understand the deeper pain and reasons behind it.

He needs someone who understands that his behavior (detachment, cynicism, possessiveness, etc.) is rooted in his experiences and struggles and how he’s adapted to survive, not just a lack of care or an attempt to be “edgy” or manipulative.

This someone would need to refrain from judging his emotional barriers and instead offer gentle encouragement and space for Killer to process his feelings at his own pace.

Stage 2’s obsession with control extends to relationships. Killer might not necessarily want to dominate, but he would want to feel that he has some level of control over his emotional environment. He would need someone who respects his space and boundaries, but one who also allows him to feel like he’s not being controlled or manipulated.

However, the right person could earn his trust and have some control over the dynamics of the relationship, which would give Killer a sense of emotional and physical safety.

While Killer would need emotional connection, he might also need space to retain his autonomy. The ideal partner would understand this balance, not forcing Killer to open up more than he’s comfortable but still offering subtle guidance and understanding when necessary.

Killer’s apathy and emotional walls make him unlikely to ask for or express a need for affection in conventional ways. However, he would likely still need affection—though on his own terms.

Small, quiet acts of care (like a touch on the shoulder (with the understanding that he’s allowed to say no and have that respected), an offer of support, or even nonverbal understanding) would mean a lot to him, even if he doesn’t always know how to express that need.

Killer’s lack of self-worth makes him seek validation from others, but this is indirect. He needs someone who can show him that he’s worthy of care and connection, especially without forcing him to explicitly ask for it.

Through actions and small gestures, Killer’s partner(s) would help him feel that he matters, even if he struggles to believe it.

Given his tendency to suppress emotions and struggle to believe he even has them, Killer needs someone who gives him space to be emotionally closed off when necessary.

He needs someone who respects his boundaries, doesn’t force him to share his deepest thoughts, and understands that his need for space isn’t a rejection, but part of his emotional defense mechanism.

Killer needs someone who is patient with his slow emotional progress. His emotional walls are hard to break down, and he may not be able to communicate his feelings directly. A partner who respects his process and doesn’t rush him to be more vulnerable or open would be essential in helping him grow at his own pace.

Loyalty is a critical component for Killer. His emotional instability and fear of abandonment might cause him to fixate on people who are unwavering in their loyalty to him.

He needs someone who proves their loyalty through actions, remaining steadfast even when Killer’s detachment or emotional shutdown makes it hard for him to show affection in return.

Killer needs a partner who earns his trust over time, not rushing or demanding it but allowing him to grow comfortable with them. Trust for Killer would be hard-won and easily lost, and once it’s earned, he would cling to it, even if he doesn’t always express it.

Trust is one of the few things Killer would place high value on in a relationship, as it provides him with a sense of stability and safety.

Stage 2’s need for control manifests in wanting to maintain some level of power in the relationship, but he also needs to be guided gently by someone who understands his psychological needs.

While Killer may feel the need to hold control over situations, he also is secretly drawn to someone who has a subtle ability to influence him without overwhelming him.

His sadism and masochism. His history of being controlled by others might make him both crave and fear these dynamics in a relationship. He might feel drawn to a partner who subtly indulges or challenges these tendencies in ways that help him feel emotionally alive, but this would be something he might only recognize subconsciously.

Killer needs to feel seen or recognized as a person, not just an instrument to use or a threat or something not to be trusted.

His deep-seated fear of being overlooked or forgotten could make him crave someone who acknowledges his struggles, his desires, and his worth, even if he doesn’t explicitly ask for it. Being validated by a partner would be deeply important to Killer, even though he may hide this need under layers of indifference.

I could talk more about this, especially how his relationship with his body could effect his relationships in general, but I’ll leave it there for now as I have no clue if this is helpful at all 💀.

[sissytobitch10seconds]

I think it's kind of interesting that Viktor is overshadowed by his siblings both in the canon and fanon.

In season one I could understand it. Despite Viktor being the main character that literally drives the entire plot, everyone focuses on the other characters. People make fun of Luther for talking about the moon all the time. Everyone is almost creepily obsessed with Klaus and the Vietnam fling that he had. No one really talks about Allison, but her story is primarily linked with Viktor's since she's trying to heal their relationship (fandom misogyny too). I think that there's a decent amount of talk around Five since he's such a fascinating character. There's quite a lot of talking about Diego too, since he loses Eudora and spends a lot of time trying to take care of Klaus. But no one really talks about Viktor and the amount of shit that he goes through in s1. All the siblings other than Allison completely abandon him too, and Allison only wants the idea of a 'sister' that she's built up in her head since she lost her husband and daughter.

In season two, it makes even less sense to not talk about what Viktor has done. He has a queer love story with Sissy and we get to see way more development and chemistry for, Klaus and Dave had a montage and some sad lines from Klaus as opposed to an entire arc through ten episodes, but no one really does anything with it. Allison gets basically no attention for the same fandom misogyny issues as before. Five gets some attention because of the fact that he's exhausted and still dealing with the Commission (his fight scenes are amazing). Diego gets the same treatment as Luther did but a little more deserving because the plan to save JFK was stupid. Luther gets totally sidelined and ignored too, but people really hated him in S1 so I'm not surprised. Klaus gets all the attention again even though his plot outside of Ben possessing him is honestly really boring and makes me so uncomfortable.

Season three is where Viktor should have gotten the most attention. If we're considering the fact that the TUA fandom has a very queer audience, then they should be super excited and celebrating the fact that Viktor is trans. Not only that, but he's also working his ass off so that he can fix things for Allison and get her back to a timeline where her daughter exists or back to the sixties. I think a lot of people ignore that, giving Five more credit than he deserves for trying to fix the world when Viktor was doing that until Harlan showed up and he wanted to handle that first. A lot of attention during the debut went again to Klaus, which was actually warranted this time since he was plot relevant by showing us things about Reggie and discovering his powers. Diego got more attention since he was parenting Stan and fighting with Lila, which was nice. Five got some meme attention but nothing serious and Luther got a little bit of genuine love. But mostly people just posted the conversation where Viktor comes out to his family and continued to ignore him.

Now Season four is out and no one cares about Viktor. He stands up to Reginald and says all of the things that he needs to say, he fights like Hell to try and save Ben from the Durango and get him someplace stable, he owns a bar and got fucking KIDNAPPED. No one is talking about him, all people are doing is complaining about fivela and the ending.

Viktor moved to Nova Scotia probably to get better trans healthcare, but also because none of his siblings care about him. My man is a tiny trans man that got kidnapped and ransomed off the street and they couldn't care less about him when they show up, Five is taking notes about the room they're in instead of checking to make sure that his childhood best friend is okay. Luther may have made him best man at his wedding, but it was just because Viktor had only just come out and all the other siblings were non options (never been close with Five, butted heads with Diego who didn't even want the wedding to happen, not their Ben, and Klaus was officiating) which was the same reason Lila was Sloane's maid of honor. Diego and Viktor barely spare two words at each other despite their closeness in the comics. Lila and Allison say something briefly to him before they also fuck off further into the plot.

Viktor isn't liked by his family despite them trying to include him in it when it's convenient for them, and he's also disliked by the fandom. I went into the TUA tag and about half of the top twenty posts were about someone else with him tacked on as an afterthought.

[arcane-ish]

Plotbunnies aka "making the most of Viktors new ability"

Warwick/Viktor, Viktor/Silco: So my first plot bunny just Vander's point of view on the whole Viktor mindprobing him, being charmed by Viktor's goodness and wrestling with his own shame over his past or his urges.

Viktor/Silco, Vander/Silco: Second was Viktor digging deeper into Vander's mind and finding the darker more uncensored parts. Viktor "meeting" Silco in Vander's mind. Maybe Viktor flirting with young!Silco in the last Drop within Vander's mind palace. (maybe with a dash of Viktor wondering what Vander wants to tell him about Silco, if mind!Silco is so flirty).

Viktor/Silco, Viktor/Jinx: Spinning off from that: okay what other ways could Viktor have to encounter Silco? Maybe after seeing Silco in Vander's mind he wants another view and sees a different view on Silco in Jinx's mind?

Viktor/Jinx, Sisters: But then I decided Viktor wouldn't heal Jinx against her will. So next idea: Viktor offers to heal Jinx because he senses much pain but also much power in her. Jinx imo would say no. But still, lots of interesting ideas about it. Like would Vi get tempted to try and convince Jinx? Maybe the sisters debating whether they should let Viktor try to cure Isha's muteness?

Viktor/Jinx: Spinning off from that, story about Viktor wondering why The Arcane keeps urging him to try and heal Jinx. (imo Jinx has a special relationship with Hextech AND she's all shimmered up, so an "I want to suck everything in" Hexcore entity thingie would have double the reason to consume her.

Viktor/Silco + Singed: Another interesting "Viktor sees many different perpectives on Silco" point of view (on top of Vander and Jinx) would be Singed. But again, this would fall into Viktor wouldn't heal people against their will and Singed wouldn't say yes. But still, might be another interesting "temptation" type scene if Viktor would offer Singed to heal him over the pain of losing his daughter and the scars on his face. (I think Singed wouldn't say yes because I think in a weird way Singed is actually somewhat happy with his life and maybe like Silco about the The Betrayal thinks his daughter being his driving force is actually a good thing. That said, he might ask Viktor to heal Orianna instead and watch closely what that does).

Viktor/Silco + Singed. Wait, maybe Singed wants Viktor to heal Orianna, but he wants Viktor to guinea pig try it out on Silco instead?

spooky!Viktor + pairing of your choice: a more fucked up, unfeeling machine herald Viktor doesn't have this rule about not healing people against their wll anymore. So he just heals and mind invades people left and right, whether as part of a battle to take them over or almost accidentally by brushing against them. In that process he then sees the people and memories these people love the most (in my head this comes up mostly for the people who are resisting but I could do with Viktor just knowing all the loves and wants of everyone he has healed), but because he's unfeeling now, they don't mean anything to him, he's just neutrally cataloguing them. This could be done for any pairing of your choice, CaitVi (ie Viktor being at the most surprised about how much pain Cait is in about Vi), MelJay, JayVik (ie Viktor seeing how Jayce saw him and the moment Jayce fell in love with him), etc etc.

Porny VanderxSilcoxViktor (throw in Felicia if you feel like it): Viktor wandering through Vander's mind runs into a memory of Vander and Silco having sex (if you don't like, do Vander and Felicia or Vander/Silco/Felicia threesome) and because he's in Vander's mind he expreriences it from Vander's point of view and you can bring in that whole bit about how it is unfamiliar, that Viktor has never been in a certain position because of his leg. [the explanation here would be that with his normal healings, Viktor doesn't typically have to probe that deep, so he doesn't usually run into this problem]

Ekko&Viktor or maybe Timebomb: I think Ekko would be like Jinx and would never want Viktor to heal him no matter how unhappy he is. I think he'd be distrustful like Jinx (if there is a temptation then maybe one to ask Viktor whether he can heal the tree). So maybe a version where Ekko never went on his trip to Piltover and he is super weirded out by this new camp and he either teams up with Jinx to spy on it or he seeks it out to talk to Viktor and try to figure out whether Viktor is a good guy or a bad guy.

[juvenillia]

~ tangled series ~ part 2

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish

summary: Simon needs some distraction after Johnny is away on a mission for a longer time. So he finds him a casual ons, but just like his partner before he found something different and things become even more complicated.

a/n: Welcome back to part 2 of the tangled series. This time I got a bit carried away but I hope you like it. So yeah still porn with plot, but this time more plot.

cw/tw: suggestive content, pure smut , bi!Soap, bi!Ghost, Ghoap, flirting, petnames, piv, unprotected sex, fingering, drinking, open relationship/situationship, catcalling,

worcount: 5.5k

》Masterlist《 》 Read on AO3 《 》Master Post《

Everything turned out to be easier with Johnny at his side. Sure, as hell, that missions became somehow more strained. Simon always wanted to protect all his teammates, no matter the fact that he knew fairly well that every one of the 141 were extremely capable of their tasks. Still, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing even one of them. And as soon as Johnny and him reached an agreement on their relationship terms, Simon became more restless considering the thought of getting the Scot injured. Everyone he ever let get close to him had to follow the sad fate of dying sooner than expected. Always too soon. Maybe that was the reason that Ghost didn’t accept on a serious relationship with him. Maybe that’s why they sorted things out and agreed on a kind of ‘friends with benefits situationship’, with no strings attached. Even if they were more attached than both actually saw.

That’s also the reason he wasn’t feeling alright. He felt more anxious, more at edge lately. Usually, he would drop by that specific Scot to keep his demons at bay. Simon could simply search out for his presence to make himself feel better, but since Soap needed to head out three weeks ago, there was simply no possibility to do so. The radio silence only exacerbated the tension and his nightmares. He couldn’t stay relaxed on leave when he didn’t know how his not-boyfriend was doing right now. What if Simon could change something about the situation? No, Price wanted him to rest after the last operation that took way longer than it was planned.

Maybe all that lead him to this situation. He was seated at a bar he frequented a lot of times when on leave. It wasn’t too far away from the base, just in case. He booked a hotel nearby because drinking and driving is irresponsible. And just like this he spent the nights in the ‘Downunder’. A pub that was run by Steven. Steven was a bit older than him, the owner, and bartender. He did know a lot about good whisky’s, always had a joke at hand, and most important he granted Simon his peace. He could sit there the whole night, listening to talks from strangers, sometimes some good live music, and just sit in silence. Sure, he got approached by some woman and dudes, mostly asking him about the mask, the black skull balaclava he always wore. But most of the times it was calm, and he could drown his thoughts with alcohol, and the best about it, nobody knew him here. Sure, there were some regulars that remembered his mask, but they went after their business and left the Brit alone. Nobody knew his name, or what he was doing for a living.

It was a usual Saturday when he found himself in these familiar surroundings. His glance was on the screen of his phone as he sat at the bar. Pinned on the little last seen status from Johnny that still told him a date about three weeks ago. A deep sigh left his throat. “Tough night?” an unfamiliar voice dragged his attention up. It wasn’t the usual bearded man greeting him behind the bar, it was a younger woman wearing a gentle smile, just polishing a whisky glass. His brows furrowed at the sight, what earned him a quite chuckle from you. “Stevie had a family emergency, so he asked me to fill in for tonight.” You simply placed the glass in front of him. Simon only nodded, somehow annoyed for need to get used to a new person, especially while he was in such an unsettled mood right now. “So, Dalmore Port or Craigellachie?” You placed your palm flat on the wooden counter, next to the still empty glass.

Simon tilted his head slightly and his brows arched even more. “Dalmore Port,” he answered stern, as you turned on your heel with a sweet hum to pull out the bottle and pour him a good glass of the desired drink.

“Not quite the chatter, huh?” you said while shoving the glass over in front of him, your soft smile never leaving your features.

He pulled his mask up only the slightest to reveal the perfect shaped jawline covered in a subtle stubble. Only high enough that the glass could meet his lips, as he shook his head no. “What a shame. Usually, people that sit at the bar are up to talks. But that’s your loss then,” you chimed teasingly throwing him a wink, as you turned your attention to another customer approaching the bar. Simon watched your every movement and something about you got him hooked. The way you talked so melodic, the way you gracefully moved along the bar to prepare the desired drinks. Maybe it wasn’t that bad that Steven wasn’t here. Maybe you were a fresh breeze of distraction for his mind.

From time to time, you tried to start an easy chat with him, but he only shortcut the answers. Somehow distant, still not so fond of the getting to know you part. Still, your features never even faltered a bit, like a natural beam of sunshine. Simon started to ask himself, how a fragile, soft, and pretty figure like you could work in such a place. Stevie entrusted you with the place he called his second child, but what would happen if things escalated? You wouldn’t be able to handle a bar fight, so Simon made sure to spend the whole night here. Just in case, and definitely not for any other reason than that. He knew better than that. Did he though?

That way it was already about one in the morning when the band packed up and left the bar and most of the customers left with them. Only a biker squad at one of the larger tables, something that looked like a bachelor party of some businessmen at another table and some random lonely dudes were left. Simon was one of them. That’s when the bachelor party demanded a larger order for shots and beers and asked if you’d bring them over. The pure nature you were you agreed on it. Nothing unusual to be honest. So, you grabbed a tablet and placed everything on it and made your way over the table. It was the very first time Simon were able to get a concrete look at your whole statue. A pair of black skinny jeans paired with a tight turtleneck that left nothing to the imagination. The little apron wrapped around your waist hugged your curves perfectly fine, as you swayed your hips naturally while walking over the table. Eventually Simon drowned his drink at the sight, before quickly adjusting his mask again.

As you crossed the table from the biker squad, one of the bulky tattooed men whistled after you. It made Simon’s jaw clench, but you just turned gracefully around, not spilling even a drop of liquor in the turn. “I know you like what you see, no need to remind me, Marcus,” you chimed while turning back to your actual direction. Simon’s jaw was still locked. You bend down to the table from the already quite drunken bachelor party and placed the glasses around for each member, before straightening up again. “There you go.” You still wore that same sweet smile.

Just as you turned once more to head back to the bar as one of those men took grip of your wrist. “Why don’t cha stay here, sweetheart.” One of them whined while pulling you back. Tension built in the back of Simon’s muscles, as he watched the scene. Preparing himself to step in.

A sigh left your throat as you tried to keep the happy face up. “Feeling honored, but I still have other customers to serve,” you stated soft. Not moving an inch.

“Nah, they can rot. Stay here.” He pulled you closer that you needed to bend over again, being on eyelevel with the drunken man.

That was the moment when Simon stood up from his place. Eyes glaring at the situation in front of him. But before he stepped in, he noticed the sudden change in your voice. “Sit,” you ordered with such a stoic voice that the man in front of you loosen the grip around your wrist and you straightened your back once more. Such an unexpected tone for your sunshine nature. Simon didn’t know if your order was aimed at him, but he also didn’t realize that the guy from earlier, Marcus was his name, also stood up. Who now slowly sat down again. Simon still stood there, not averting his gaze from you. Your posture was different to before, tense but not frightened. “Listen hun…” Your arms folded over your chest. “I don’t care who you think you are, but you’re nothing more than a cockroach here. If you get on my nerves, you’ll be escorted and not in the way you’d like to.” Your voice was so cold. The man in front of you only gulped. A mischievous grin growing on your lips, your hand slowly moved alongside your curves. “Besides, that’s nothing you could ever afford,” you remarked with more cockiness laying in your tone, before heading back to the bar again.

Simon sat back at his place before you returned. “Impressive…” he stated as he still watched every move you made. It earned him a soft chuckle, as you once more winked at him.

“Maybe I just wanted to impress you.” With that statement he felt his cheeks burn. He was really glad that his mask was neatly in place, but still, he couldn’t suppress a low laugh escaping his throat. You reminded him so much of something he missed too much. Just a bit softer, a bit more elegant but as much of a tease and flirt as the Scot.

The rest of the night went on without any more incidents. All customers left the bar sometime after, and that’s how Simon found himself in the cold and dark night in front of the pub. It took you about forty-five minutes to close and clean up. During those forty-five minutes he could’ve walked away, he could’ve simply decided to leave. And still he found himself leaned against a streetlamp, as he decided to insist to walk you home. Making sure you’d arrive save at home. It was an urge he couldn’t fight. He ignited a fag and waited those minutes until he recognized your figure. A smile crept on your face as you took notice of him.

You slowly approached him. “No Mrs. waiting for you?” you asked jokingly while closing your jacket.

“Nah.” That’s the first time he gave some information about him away. His mouth was quicker than his mind. Your intoxicating smile made it hard for him to contain himself, the alcohol rushing through his veins did the rest. His answer made your smile grew.

“I see.” You reached out to steal the fag from his grip to take a drag yourself. The smile never leaving your features as you could feel his intense glance onto you. Eventually you could witness a low growl escaping his throat before he shook his mind clear.

“So, what’s the plan mysterious stranger?” You teased while exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. “You gonna drag me to an alley and kill me?” You passed the cigarette back to him and the corner of his lips tugged up.

“Thought ‘f walking ya home, to prevent that exact incident.” He took another drag of the cigarette and could feel a slight burn in his abdomen as he tasted your sweet lip balm on the cigarette.

“A true gentleman, huh?” You grinned “Or a serial killer.”

“Up to ya to find out.” Now it was his time to tease, and it only ignited something within you.

“Good then that I don’t actual live here.” You winked at him as you started to walk into the direction of your temporally home. Simon trailed close behind.

You walked in completely silence, somehow you were too tense to speak right now. He indeed made you nervous now. It wasn’t like you never brought someone over after a long shift or hooked up with someone in a bar. It wasn’t that regular, only guys that somehow really caught your attention. What didn’t happen so often. But this masked man had something on him, that pulled you under his spell. Something you didn’t feel so often.  Rounding a few corners before your stood in front of a not so cozy motel. He insisted to guide you up to your door, and you didn’t argue. How could you when his eyes already burned themselves into your brain.

That way you found yourself in front of the door to your room. “Thanks. Mind to tell me your name, that I can show my gratitude?” You smiled while facing him. Looking in those deep dark orbs his eyes were. He didn’t answer, instead he placed his index finger and thumb under your chin to tilt it up only the slightest. His eyes never leaving yours. The breath got caught into your throat while your lips slightly parted.

Usually he would pull back, call it a night, and give in to his demons. But not tonight. Tonight, he found a soul that could distract him as much as only Johnny could. And he needed that. It was selfish, it was something he didn’t like to do. But what could possibly go wrong? Nothing? Johnny himself did hook up with a girl at some time in their relationship – no situationship. They were okay with it, so why shouldn’t Simon for once have something good for himself.

He stepped forward, invading your personal space while leaning in. His glance still pinned onto yours. “No names,” he breathed out, while his free hand pulled at the hem of his mask. Once more only the slightest to reveal his lips. His eyes checking onto your glance, only to look for hint of hesitation.

“That comes at a price.” Your lips were formed into a smile as you closed the gap. He didn’t care about a price to pay, right now he only wanted this, he wanted you. His grip on your chin tightened as his other hand found your back to pull you closer to deepen the kiss. The sensation in his guts literally burning himself as he tasted your lips, while he already felt his pants tighten. It wasn’t a rough, sloppy kiss, but so passionate. It left you breathless as you parted to open the door. You walked backwards, eyes never leaving the intense glance from the behemoth of a man in front of you. He kicked the door shut as he followed you in.

Both of you removed your jackets as it turned too hot in here anyways. And in an instant, he was back on you. His calloused hands gripping on your waist while you clung around his neck. Slightly slipping under the mask to feel some strains of his hair, while your kisses turned more heated. Until you caught his lower lips between your teeth, and he let out a deep groan that sent shivers down your spine. Back was the grin full of mischief on your lips.

“Mask stays on, I suppose,” you teased while pulling away from him. Slowly walking over to the bed and pulling your turtleneck over your head to reveal your upper body, left only in an all-black laced bra.

“Affirmative,” he stated trailing behind you. A slight giggle run over your lips as you sat on the bed. Reaching out to him to pull him on top of you as you laid down. He followed your lead without hesitation. He was huge, you could feel the bulge in his trousers brushed over your sensitive spot as he leaned down to let his tongue slip into your mouth. You let out a moan at his demanding movements as his hands roamed down your body. His beefy hands felt so rough against your soft skin, and still it was a feeling you somehow missed a lot. He couldn’t help himself but started to grind his hips against your clothed crotch. “’m gonna take ma time with ya.” His hot breath brushed over your skin as he leaned down to place open mouthed kisses along your neck. Your hands found his brawn shoulders as your nails dig in.

Another deep moan escaped your throat as he suddenly stopped. You looked with lust blown pupils and a raised pair brow at him. His lips curled up in a cocky smile. He pulled his hoodie over his head, without disturbing the mask, which stayed magically neatly in place. Just to reveal a tight compression shirt, that clung to his toned body just perfectly. Revealing a tattoo sleeve at one arm and some scars across his skin. One of his hands cupped your breast, when you could hear his deep voice once more. “Ya know the traffic light system.” His hands squeezed your breast as the other took grip of your hip. You nodded eagerly. “Use ya words, luv,” he teased with his thumb along your waistband.

 “Green keep going. Yellow break. Red stop.”, Your breath hitched in the back of your lungs as you felt your body filling with anticipation.

“Good gurl,” he praised, his eyes trailing down your body as he licked over his lips at the sight.

As he fumbled with your trousers to free you, you got a good sight of his hardened member that would await you later. You raised your hips to make it easier for him to took them off, and instant of lowering them again, he pressed your legs up, placing his mouth onto your panties. It earned him another sweet moan. He was way too turned on from the way you reacted to him as he held your legs in place.

“So wet f’ me already.” He pulled your panties aside to let his tongue run through your folds, while one of his fingers circled around your hole.

“Fuck,” you cried out and he once more stopped.

He placed another finger next to your hole, let them get soaked with your liquid. “Color, luv,” he said with such an endearing and at the same time demanding tone, it made your hips thrust.

“Green.” You quickly answered to finally feel the needed friction. And without hesitation he pushed inside while his mouth started to suck at your clit. It made your back arch. It was ridiculous how fast a familiar burn built up in your stomach. The combination of his sucking and his fingers pushing and curling inside you already brought you so close.

Your hands wandering down to grip onto his hair, but you only found the fabric of his mask. “Nuhuh. Be a good gurl f’ me.” It made you moan out as he stopped his movement again. Edging you when you were already out of breath. From the grin he wore you assumed he know fairly well what he did to you. You nodded, as your hands trailed to the sides of you gripping on the sheets. “Better,” he said while he placed his mouth onto you again. “Taste so bloody fuckin’ delicious,” he moaned against your clit while he added another of his beefy fingers to your insides. He could feel how your whole body trembled and how your walls started to clench around his digits. “Cum f’ me, luv.” he groaned while the pace of his digits picked up. And just as he demanded you did, without hesitation. His fingers slowed down as he guided you through your first orgasm. “Gonna be a long bloody night,” he said while sitting back, sucking his fingers clean from your cum. Letting your legs down as you caught your breath.

The now free hand stroked over his clothed cock, that already started twitching at the delicate sight in front of him. You sit carefully up to face him properly. A smile planted on your face. A smile full of mischief. “I hope so,” you stated while moving to sit on your knees. Fumbling with his belt. He instantly pulled you into a deep kiss again and you could taste yourself on his tongue. His mask was soaked in your liquids as much as your panties. A little souvenir you’d grant him. Something he was already grateful for, because he literal could grow addicted to your scent, to your taste. Something he wouldn’t let happen, but right now it was alright. Right now, in the heat of the moment he let it happen and enjoyed it.

Kneeling before him on the mattress you reached out to free his cock, distracted from the dizzying kisses he continued to assault you with. When he finally sprang free you leant down to take him in your mouth, only to startle as he laid down, tugging you with him. His strong arms maneuvering you to sit backwards on his face, letting you brace your hands against his abdomen as he mouthed at your cunt. Licking the drops of pre up from his glossy tip made the behemoth of a man moan deeply beneath you. He instantly started to eat you out once more as you carefully placed your lips around his length. Taking in as much as your throat granted you. Gagging a few times, what only made his member twitch and his mouth groan against your sensitive spot. It didn’t take long until you started to grind yourself over his mouth.

His hands firmly placed onto your ass, squeezing it all so often while one of his fingers circled around the hole that wasn’t occupied by his mouth. He only pulled away for a second when you already spoke up. “Green, god damn.”Before taking his dick back into your throat. Your reaction made him laugh, before he returned to his task. Completely ruining his face with your cum. It was the second time when he pushed you over the edge so effortlessly, it made tears build up in the corner of your eyes from pure pleasure. You needed more; you needed him.

You turned around to place you above his dripping cock, but before you could lower yourself, he switched places with you. Manhandling you like you weighted nothing, and he was between your legs on top of you. “ ‘m not finished with ya.,” he growled while his mouth found yours again. Wiggling his trousers completely of him when his length brushed over your folds.

“Need that. Please,” you whined as the desperate demand in you grew higher. The deep chuckle could be heard once more.

“Such a needy pretty thing.” He let his hard cock once more slide over your cunt. “Ya think ya ready to take me.” One of his hands stroke over your hair, that was slightly dump from the sweat.

You nodded, before you remembered what he wanted to hear. “Green,” you said with a smile. And he looked down at you. His eyes filled with so much lust but at the same time there was adoration hidden behind the darkness of his pupils.

He placed a soft kiss onto your forehead. “That’s ma gurl,” he praised while his teeth locked around your earlobe. He slowly pushed the tip inside and immediately could feel your back arch. He kept him steady on top of you, not lowering himself completely. “Gonna ruin ya f’ any other man out there,” he committed as he pushed deeper and deeper. You whined out at his thickness. “Hush. Ya can take it. I know it.” His soft tone with the lustful deep voice sent you into an addictive haze.

It took him some time to button out, and as soon as you adjusted and gave him another green light he started with an unforgettable pace. “That’s it, luv.” His hands were still on your head, keeping you to face him while he thrusted inside you until you started to see stars. You felt so god damn full and good. The room filled with the lewd sounds of skin smacking against each other combined with his sweet praises. You didn’t know how long it took till you felt his thrusts grew sloppy; you didn’t know how many more orgasms he pulled out of you until then. But the moment came, and you could feel how his body started to give in. Clinging onto yours for the sake of his own life.

That’s when you started to trace lazy circled around his neck. “Just let go,” you said softly with the rest of energy your body held. “Cum inside of me, darling.” Your voice pushing him closer, as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Arms slung around you, holding you steady as his thrusts grew slower, but deeper than before. Pushing the spongy spot inside of you. Completely overstimulated you didn’t know if you could just come another time, but it didn’t matter to you. “I wanna feel it.” You assured him one more time, before he completely let go and painted your walls with his cum. Your head falling further back into the pillow as you felt his release.

He collapsed onto you, while your hands stroked over his sweaty body. He needed to pull out, still he couldn’t bring himself to. It was too comfortable, too warm. He could still feel your walls clenching around him. Your voice was the only thing that made him pull back. “Yellow, darling. I think I can’t take anymore.” Your words were filled with so much endearment. It let his stomach turn as he started to clean you and himself up. Not caring about anything, before collapsing onto bed once more.

His head laying onto your bare chest, while his hand took grip around your waist. ”Ya did so good f’ me, luv”. You placed a kiss onto the sweaty fabric of his balaclava.

“Thank you, mysterious stranger.” You giggled when he couldn’t suppress a small laugh. Why did it feel so good and familiar? It was what scared him a bit, but as soon as darkness washed over his sight, he couldn’t care about it anymore. After three weeks he finally found some peace and rest again. Laying here in your arms, where no nightmare could bring him any harm. He was safe.

Simon wasn’t used to one night stands, well not to those ones where he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Usually, he would stay awake till his hook up fell asleep to sneak out of the apartment. But with you? He couldn’t leave. So just like that he woke up the next morning, or better said late afternoon. He couldn’t remember when he slept this long, apart from the time the both of you went to sleep anyway. The scent of freshly brewed coffee woke him up. You stood into the little kitchenette, only a fresh pair of panties and an oversized hoodie.

“Good mornin’ darling,” you chimed while bringing a coffee over to him. As he took the mug, he realized how fucked up this whole situation was. What was if that lead to something wrong? Something he couldn’t provide you with. Something that he swore to Johnny he couldn’t agree on. You could literally see the turns in his head, and just placed another kiss on the stained mask. “Don’t worry. This can stay a casual fling between two strangers,” you cooed with a soft giggle, and he nodded.

Still, when he arrived at his hotel later that day, his head hurt as much as his heart ached. Not because of the alcohol, nor because of the guilt he slept with you. It was of the fact that something in him wanted it to be more. Just like Simon wanted it to be more with Johnny than just a casual fling. But he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t corrupt you into the mess his life was. And he wouldn’t break Johnny’s heart. With you it was easier. He would always hold tight to that night in his memory. Especially when he didn’t have so many memories to think back in happiness. But he hadn’t to face you again, he didn’t even know your name. He could easily return to his life. With this mental note he spent the last few days of his leave alone in a hotel room with the sheer memory of your breathtaking smile and that intoxicating scent, and how good this one would mix with the scent of his beloved Scot.

It was now about two months ago when things settled again. Johnny came back together with their Captain, and everything was alright. Simon’s mind could finally calm down. Even if his dreams often sent him back to that night with you. But right now, there were more important things to do. Price got back with an injury that didn’t allow him to get back to work. So, Ghost had to fill in his position for some time. Nothing he wasn’t used to. But what he wasn’t used to is when this time passed the four-week mark and the three members of the 141 started to worry about their Captain. So, Kyle reached out to him to ask about his status and was somehow surprised when John did invite the three men over for a dinner at his home. Just to catch up about the important things and plan a bit ahead.

That’s how Simon pulled the car into a driveway of a cozy looking home. The drive to their Captain home was filled with heavy assumptions from Kyle and Johnny how he would live, if there would be kids running around and stuff like that. But they had lost all their assumptions as soon as the door opened and they saw a weak looking John, a cast around his left arm and a loop to hold it steady in place. “Come on in boys,” he said while guiding them into a warm living room which also served as dining room. Everyone took a place at the table and soon the three were kind of confused, because the table was prepared for five people, not only for the four of them.

“Is Kate coming?” Kyle asked with a teasing tone, as he took the chair at the head of the table. Simon and Johnny sat down next to each other at the window side, while John sat next to an empty chair, who only shook his head no.

“You’ll see soon enough,” he sighed a bit tense.

Simon pulled out some papers and maps as they chatted a bit about some reports and the last operations until they heard a door open another time. John tilted his head into the direction of the sound. “Need a helping a hand, sunshine?”

“One doesn’t quite do the job.” A muffled female voice echoed through the hallway.

“I have six more to lend now,” he said jokingly as the steps grew louder. The anticipation within the boys only growing. But the image in front of them let their blood run cold. Never had they expected the sight of you walking over to the dining table with your usual sweet smile. Simon could feel a rope lacing around his throat as he was unable to breath. Kyle blinked in utter confusion as you bend over John's shoulder and greeted the men in front of you.

“You’re a bad host John. Not even offering them drinks?” You punched his healthy shoulder playfully. Johnny could’ve sworn he needed to throw up. He never thought he would be able to see you again. The chances were so low, and he was sure if the fates were in his favor, he would be thrilled about it, but now he was only nauseous. Your glance wandered over the table and sigh left your throat. “John…” You straightened, and he mirrored your concerned filled face. “You promised me, no work tonight.”

“Yeah, sunny, you’re right.” The smile growing back on your face as your glance trailed over the boys. “We put it away, right boys?”, the be said men only nodded tense as you winked at them.

“So, three whiskeys, I suppose?” You ruffled through John’s short hair teasingly. Before turning back to the head of the table. “And a beer?” A mischievous smile on your lips before you turned on your heel to get said drinks.

The boys only stared after you, mouths slightly agape. “Stop it.” John had to clear his throat to drag them back into the here and now. Kyle and Johnny only exchanged some quick glances, as Simon sat there in completely silence, his glance still pinned onto you from the corner of his eyes. Nobody thought that things got to be this tangled, but right now, they eventually started to regret a few things, because you were right. Things always had a price.

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@cooliofango @ghostslillady @anothersimpsblog

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I was not tagged but I saw this and I wanna do it so I’m TAGGING MYSELF

1. How many works do you have an AO3? 23

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 191,481

3. What fandoms do you write for? 911 Lone Star!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Make Me Laugh 'till I Die, I Stand Beside You With Pride - Tarlos | 2k | 4x06 coda where TK and Carlos discuss TK’s unusually close relationship with Owen, and Carlos confesses he’s a little jealous of it 💛

getting past the wounds of love - Catan Crew + Judd & Grace; Tarlos | 5k | Early s1; Paul, Marjan & TK explore their new city; Carlos attends his first 126 hang; Paul hosts a listening party for a rare record he’s acquired

The Greatest Gift I’ve Found, The Sweetest Thing I’ve Known - Tarlos + Reyes Family | 7k | Nochebuena at the Reyes house. It's Tarlos's first Christmas as husbands, and the family's first without Gabriel.

TK Strand’s Sweet 16 (times 2) (minus 2) - Tarlos + Catan Crew + Reyes Family | 7k | TK 30th Birthday Fic!!! The extended Reyes family gathers to throw TK a blowout “surprise” party. [Contains what I’ve been told by several people is one of the best opening scenes to a fic ever 🤭]

Chain of Fools - Tarlos + Paul | 4k | Carlos and TK try handcuffs in the bedroom and they end up in an awkward position. [This is a crack fic!!]

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! Always! Always always always!!!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don’t have any with angsty endings 😇

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think they are all pretty happy, but I’m going to go with love in a series of bursts & inches because it ends with this really beautiful and cathartic moment between Marjan and her parents, and when she goes to get in her car to drive home and process the day she just had, and how a lot of the assumptions she’s been making about what her parents think about the decisions she’s been making with her life have really been turned on their heads in the last several hours, the first thing she does is call TK and Carlos. Her chosen family, and that’s really the heart of this whole fic 💛

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I’ve never gotten any hate in comments or directly to my face, but there were a few people in the fandom who made it pretty clear they were mad that I included Iris in my Tarlos bachelor party fic All The Stars Are Closer But the feedback I got from folks who actually did read it was really lovely.

9. Do you write smut? Hehe yeah, sometimes!

10. Do you write crossovers? No

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I have never had anything straight up plagerized

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No! That would be kind of neat.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes!! A couple! For Lire with Love and Lots of Whump; a series of Carlos getting hurt in (mostly) ridiculous ways and being a terrible patient for TK & The Wonder of It with @carlos-in-glasses and @ladytessa74; this one follows TK and Carlos from the moment where Carlos starts wondering if maybe he’s ready to revisit the kids conversation through them adopting a little boy 🙂

16. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue, humor, portraying platonic friendship as equally important to romantic love

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Umm plot? Haha. My stuff is very character driven!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I love writing in Spanish as much as the story will allow!

19. First fandom you wrote for? 911 Lone Star 😇

20. Favorite fics you've written?

Como Te Quiero Yo (how I love you) - Tarlos honeymoon fic (epilogue coming soon :))

love in a series of bursts & inches - follows TK & Marjan, Marjan & Carlos, Marjan & Paul through building their found family from their first year in ATX through present

getting past the wounds of love - see #2 above

All The Stars Are Closer - Tarlos bachelor party fic

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[theheirofthesharingan]

If you could change ANYTHING in Naruto (the series not the mc) what would it be?

Would you also give it a diffrent name? (I'm personally tired of having to clatify wether I'm talking about Uzumaki Naruto or his show, srsly kishimoto is so creative he could've came up with a better name😭)

I'm going to sound very predictable, but it'll have to do something with Itachi.

Rant Time.

I love Itachi and I love that Koshimoto wrote him, but it doesn't stop infuriating me that he doesn't treat Itachi as a person. Itachi is a freaking tool he uses to further Sasuke's arc. Literally every single information about Itachi is given to us to fuel Sasuke's plot and then unite him with Naruto eventually. Itachi has no relevance outside of that in the story. Some other minor characters are given more importance than him.

If I could change one thing, I would write Itachi as a person. Like, giving more flashbacks of Itachi through Kisame (who has no reason to lie and his interaction with Itachi would tell us a lot more about Itachi than anything else). There's a reason a lot of people don't understand what Itachi was going through, and it shows in the way they write him. He was only an obstacle to Sasuke, so his own trauma doesn't deserve to be explored, right? While analysing any other character, people would take their experiences into account to talk about them. But for Itachi, only Sasuke's experiences are taken into account because Itachi's trauma and his experiences don't matter in the process of shaping him.

Most of the fandom doesn't care about Itachi beyond using him as a tool for their powerscaling games. So, his trauma goes unnoticed and unexplored. The biggest reason is that he is only ever presented as someone who triggers reactions in Sasuke, instead of someone who has his own fears, insecurities, trauma, and pains.

Imagine canon treating Itachi as a human?

He collapses when he thinks about his parents and his brother. He can't walk properly when he's sick and he is delirious due to the pain his illness is causing him. The days when his medicines can't help him because the pain is too much. Or when he is too vulnerable that even Kisame notices it and leaves him be, because Kisame doesn't know how else to comfort him. Or when Kisame slowly accepts that death would be the best thing to happen to his partner because Itachi has endured too much. When Kisame sees the signs of humanity in him, but chooses to not voice them, because Itachi doesn't want his secrets to be out. Only Kisame could have seen the signs of the real Itachi. More than Sasuke, more than Obito and Hiruzen. But Koshimoto doesn't want us to know the real Itachi because that won't help Sasuke's plot.

Canon mostly avoids showing Itachi's softness unless it's useful for Sasuke's story. Itachi was crying after traumatizing and before leaving him? It's to show Sasuke believes Tobi's story. The entire flashback of Itachi before his goodbye? To drive Sasuke away from the path of destruction of Konoha.

None of his scenes are meant to show Itachi as a human for Itachi's sake. I find it baffling.

I get it, though, that before the massacre, giving away too many of such hints would be stupid, but why not show more of him afterwards? It's not like Sasuke and Kisame did not meet or interact. There could have been other ways to show us Itachi was more than what we believed about him before we learned his truth. But no. Once he's dead, he's dead.

After Asuma dies, there's an entire episode about Shikamaru mourning his death with flashbacks. After Jiraiya dies, there's an entire episode (or there are two?) exploring his and Naruto's relationship as well. But Itachi's death is done and dusted in just one episode along with the reveal, because we need Sasuke to destroy the village and continue the story of Naruto and Sasuke? There's only one flashback. Just one.

The databook do a better job at it (written by Koshimoto or his assistants who know the details about the characters). They present Itachi as a kind and soft child who was tragically dragged into the political mess and was too sensitive to be a part of it. Then why not write him in the story as well that way?

Honestly, it's frustrating. More so because I see takes on him as if people can't read manga, yet want to offer their opinions that barely scratch the surface when they're talking about Itachi. I want more surface level information on Itachi that people can't find excuses to with "this isn't canon" for Itachi while defending and justifying other characters with the same thing.

To answer the last part of your question, I really don't mind the name 'Naruto'. Or I don't care, haha.