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simpjaes · 8 months ago

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happy hotwifing ― p.js & p.sh

When a single man moves in next door to you and your husband, it wasn’t difficult for either of you to take interest in what he could offer to the dynamic of your lives together. Unfortunately, the new and interesting man appears to be afraid to admit that he’s curious as to what happens behind your very unlocked front door. or the one where your husband, jongseong, fucks you in front of the window to help the neighbor get off and then said neighbor shows up at the door a week later.

minors dni! | reblog to give husband and neighbor a boner

WORDCOUNT― 18.9k

PAIRING― husband jongseong x afab reader x voyeur sunghoon

CONTENT― husband!jay, bachelor sunghoon, hotwifing/ open marriage, exhibitionism, voyeurism, second hand embarrassment, threesome, smut.

WARNINGS― mentions of sunghoon’s ex cheating on him, also jongseong is assumed to be bisexual and/or he is attracted to sunghoon too but there isn’t any dude on dude stuff. jongseong does put his fingers in sunghoon’s mouth tho, deal with it.

NOTE― i wrote this originally on ncteez. i am the same person lol

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― exhibitionism, voyeurism, big dick jay, HUGE dick sunghoon, top/dom(ish) jay, service top/shy/bottom(ish) sunghoon, embarrassment kink???, mentions of porn, masturbation, phone sex kind of?? idk he calls sunghoon so he can listen to the shit he’s seeing, alcohol consumption, finger fucking, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, tit fondling, raw grinding, oral (f & m receiving), deepthroating/facefucking, making out, dirty talk, pussy drunk men, cock drunk reader, double vaginal penetration, riding, missionary, finger sucking, cum stuffing, desperate desperate people!!!

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon ran from a lot of things. He ran from his ex fiancée when she cheated, he ran from new opportunities out of fear of losing what he already had, ran from a cop once as a teenager for streaking near the old folk’s home. Running wasn’t exactly something he’s fond of but, more often than not it’s what his heart tells him to do.

As stated, the last time he ran away was when his fiancée was found in the bed he paid for with her co-worker. That’s when his need to run came in the most handy, having no qualms with giving her the apartment and everything in it. His job allowed him to leave without much of a financial hit, her’s wouldn’t.

The ring he bought stayed on her finger for some reason, the home he made became one she shared with any man that wasn’t him. It’s okay though, because to him? She can have it. He’s much more comfortable starting over than she would be. So, that’s what he does.

He has money, he has a good job, and now he has a lovely house of his own on a quaint little street on the other side of town. Far far away from her.

Starting over is equally as exhausting as it is exciting but Sunghoon keeps his chin up throughout the process. Making an empty house his new home, working his job as if his entire intimate life didn’t just fall apart, and of course, preparing himself to mingle with the new neighbors.

A month after moving, Sunghoon had made platter after platter of food for neighbors as his greeting in an attempt to make friends. Many accepted and returned his dishes washed and unscratched. All are friendly to him but the majority of people in this neighborhood are middle aged and a bit out of his league. There is one pair of neighbors who appear more around his age though, and interested in actual friendship with him. The pair who brought his dishes back full of their own offer of a decent dinner for him to eat on his own time.

Despite the majority of people living on this street being polite and fond of him as a newcomer, this specific couple appears to be the only ones without an entire family. Just like Sunghoon. No children, free time to go out on the weekends, no minivans or babysitters coming every day during working hours. Naturally, he internally clings to the idea of them being his new friends, because his old group of friends consisted of his ex fiancée and her tight-knit group of pompous women and their boy toys.

Jongseong is the husband’s name, and briefly he met you alongside him a few times. He assumes you must have your own interests to cater to, because each time he finds himself on his own front porch with Jongseong talking and joking around, you rarely come with him. Save for the one or two times you did stay to hang out for a couple of hours.

After a few months, he’s managed to sprout friendship with the man next door who has a pretty wife with a ring on her finger. Sunghoon tries not to internalize that he was supposed to be living the way Jongseong is. Maybe he’s a bit jealous of the happiness in Jongseong’s eyes when he talks about you, or maybe it makes him feel like he either wasn’t good enough as a partner, or his ex simply just didn’t love him anymore.

Still, even with the slight jealousy, Sunghoon is comfortable around him. He’s never clicked with another man so quickly in terms of friendship, at least not without several shots of hard liquor to get himself comfortable. It’s definitely different with his neighbor.

The guy is open, kind, and occasionally pretty funny. He comes over a few nights a week with the claim of “man-time”. It’s been at least fifteen times since he officially met Jongseong and comfort comes alongside him when he sits on this porch and they fuck around about menial things. Hanging out with him is arguably like a breath of fresh air.

Jongseong though, he takes note of a lot of things that Sunghoon doesn’t quite seem to notice himself. One, any time he mentions his wife, Sunghoon’s eyes falter a bit. Two, Sunghoon is clearly a single man and Jongseong can’t quite grasp why that is because he’s a handsome dude, with a level personality. Three, there are slight self-deprecating jokes coming from Sunghoon at least five times an hour and it’s starting to make him wonder. At first it can be funny, but after a while it kind of stops being a joke.

So, here they are, joking and having a nice conversation on Sunghoon’s porch. It’s a Friday night and Jongseong assumes they’re close enough by this point to really talk. You’re in the back of his mind, making offers, smirking about the new neighbor, laying down the interest flat out after merely meeting with him a few times. If Sunghoon really is a single man, and if he’s as open minded as he seems, perhaps laying down some hints and an invite can help him out of this clear slump that he tries to pretend he’s not in.

“What about you? Do you have someone in your life?” Jongseong asks after a solid twenty minutes of gushing about you. Internally knowing what he says about you is true, but also trying to sell the idea of how wonderful and sexy you are. He leans back as he studies Sunghoon, noting the way he stiffens at the question.

Again, it’s clear that Sunghoon is a single man with the way he’s always in this house alone before and after work. On the weekends, he’s sitting on his porch waiting for Jongseong to come join him. Sometimes there’s a doubt though, because looking at him, anyone would believe he is taken. He is down to earth, funny, kind, handsome as hell. Maybe he does see people and Jongseong just never catches it.

“Ah, no,” Sunghoon avoids eye contact, trying to laugh it off as he confirms Jongseong’s suspicions. He wants to talk about what happened though. He hasn’t been able to talk about it, and honestly, Jongseong seems like a trusted friend at this point. “I was with someone for six years, asked her to marry me, and then we broke it off. That’s why I’m here now.”

“Oh yeah? Starting over, huh?” Jongseong nods politely at him, figuring something like this may have happened. “Can I ask what happened?”

Sunghoon shrugs nonchalantly, looking at Jongseong with a carefree face and a smile.

“She wasn’t the most faithful, you know how it goes with those sorts of things, I guess.”

Jongseong studies his face a bit more, seeing straight through that carefree attitude and noting the immense amount of hurt Sunghoon must feel.

“I don’t, actually.” Jongseong starts, watching Sunghoon’s brow rise in confusion.

“Oh, well isn’t that nice?” He responds with a defeated shrug, almost wanting to roll his eyes. “You might be the first man I’ve ever met who hasn’t dealt with infidelity at some point. Even just as a teenager.”

“On the contrary,” Jongseong says with a smirk, leaning towards Sunghoon as if he has a secret to tell. “We fuck other people all the time.”

Sunghoon stares at him as he processes those words. Unsure of it that means they both are cheating out of spite, or if they’re about to divorce or something.

“Sometimes in the same bed.”

Oh.

“At the same time.”

Jongseong deadpan stares at Sunghoon, searching for a reaction to his words. There have been many times where he and his wife invite someone to their bedroom, and many more times where the person ended up so freaked out that they ghosted the entire situation. Perhaps out of fear that Jongseong doesn’t know what he’s doing with his wife. Many people can’t seem to fathom that possessiveness, jealousy, and competition aren’t part of the deal.

You married Jongseong and he married you long after the two of you started doing this. The trial period was over before it even started. He loved watching you be pleasured, and you loved the way he looked at you as it happened. Of course, not all of the sex involves other people, but it never hurts the marriage when a third shows up.

“Oh–” Sunghoon swallows around his dry throat, mind running in several directions at once. He’s not sure how to respond to that information. “That’s cool, I guess.”

Jongseong stays silent, smirking a bit at the way Sunghoon, so tall and broad, stutters to find the words to say. It’s not like he straight up invited him, not yet at least.

“I couldn’t imagine doing that, considering I just left my fiancée for fucking someone else.”

Jongseong nods both understandingly and apologetically. People do tend to mix up the two. Is it cheating when he watches another person fuck you? To some people, yeah but, monogamy is natural for many people.

“I assume she didn’t tell you that she would be fucking someone else.” Jongseong shrugs, leaning back again. “I can imagine that even if she did tell you, you’d not have allowed it, right?”

Sunghoon nods.

“It puts my stomach in knots to think of someone I love wanting to be with someone else.”

“That’s fair,” Jongseong starts, glancing away and thinking of how to word what he wants to say. “What if someone else wanted you to fuck the person they love?”

Sunghoon freezes again, unsure of if he’s thinking too hard about that question, or not enough.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asks defensively, looking his neighbor dead in the eye.

“I’m not saying you have to take up this offer but, I mean, you’re a single guy. I’m a married guy, with a wife who is incredibly curious about you.”

Sunghoon continues to process the words, still overthinking it.

“Is this a joke?” He asks in a quieter voice, whispering as if the entire neighborhood can hear them.

“Are you attracted to her?” Jongseong continues to press, wondering what it’ll take to get a simple yes or no out of him. He notes the way Sunghoon’s ear goes red, and can’t tell if it’s because of the offer or because he’s afraid to call another man’s wife attractive.

“Here, let me rephrase,” He starts over, leaning forward again. “My wife thinks you’re, in her own words, ‘beautiful.’ She asks about you every time I come home from hanging out here, and she’s starting to get persistent.”

Sunghoon, still at a loss for words, slowly nods.

“She’s pretty, yeah.” He says, now leaning himself toward Jongseong and raising a brow in curiosity.

“As a single man, are you looking for love or are you looking for fun?” Jongseong continues, prying answers out of him and smiling at the way it seems he was right in believing there is interest here.

“I just got out of a six year relationship, I’m not trying to do all of that again,” Sunghoon shakes his head in disappointment. “Not for now, at least.”

“So, do you want to fuck my wife?”

Silence.

Jongseong pinches the bridge of his nose momentarily, seemingly frustrated.

“Look, does it help to know that I want to watch you fuck my wife?”

Louder silence.

“Okay, you clearly need some time to think. Just, if you’re ever interested let me know. I can open the blinds if you want, like a sample or something.”

Jongseong can see the way his eyes glisten at that offer through his silence. The wavering interest igniting right then and there. Ah, a voyeur, what a perfect addition to this neighborhood of dry vanilla cake. It’s not strange at all to see a monogamous man watching his footing in this situation, but the offer to watch is an entirely different thing from an offer to join right off the bat. Especially since there needs to be boundaries set if he decides he does want to fuck you.

For instance, when did he last get tested? Considering he got duped by his ex, that’s important. Does he like it raw? Does he know the ass belongs to Jongseong only? Etcetera.

“Can you say something? I’m starting to feel like I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“Ah, sorry. It’s just–” Sunghoon leans back with a sigh of relief at the general questioning being over and done with. “Yeah, I need to think about it.”

“Don’t think too hard,” Jongseong laughs. “It’s getting late so, if you need me I’ll be fucking my wife.”

Sunghoon watches him stand on his feet and follows the action. Feeling both closer to him and also in a rut of wondering if their entire friendship will rely on whether he wants to fuck his wife or not. Should he like, hug him goodbye or something?

He stands awkwardly as Jongseong studies him even more.

“Just think about it, really. She loves being watched too, if you don’t want to be involved directly.”

God, he can feel how red his ears and face have become, surely Jongseong knows by now that the interest outweighs the concerns. And as Jongseong turns to head down the steps, he calls out to him.

“Let’s say I’m interested but unsure of how to go about it, what then?”

Jongseong turns to him and smiles, taking a few steps closer so that he doesn’t have to yell out to him.

“It’s sex. If you know how to fuck, you fuck.“

“And if I’m not entirely ready to throw myself into your marital bed?”

“There’s still a couch, and again–” He smirks. “Like I said, opening the curtains isn’t the most insane sexual practice.”

Sunghoon being the person looking through those curtains though…is it really not as insane as he’s thinking it is?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“So…?” You ask as soon as Jongseong comes through the door, clinging to him with doe-eyes and a smile.

“He seems interested but,” Your husband slides off his shoes and heads straight for the couch to lay against it in a huff. “I don’t know. Just found out his ex cheated on him after like six years, I think the whole idea spooked him.”

“Ah, damn.” You look to the floor, and then make your way onto the couch with him. “What did you say?”

“I asked him if he wanted to fuck you.”

You narrow your eyes at him before rolling them with a frustrated sigh.

“Why would you ask him straight up like that? I cannot believe you pride yourself in being the talker of our sex life. It’s no wonder we have trouble finding people to join.”

Jongseong looks at you with a fond smirk before shaking his head at you.

“Would you feel better if I told you that he admitted to thinking you’re pretty?”

You smile, warming up next to your husband and feeling entirely safe here.

“What about if I told you that right before I came back home, he said he was interested and just didn’t know how to go about it?”

A bigger smile forms on your face as you look up at him, devious eyes glistening in the warm lighting of your living room.

“I offered that he can just watch instead. If he takes up that offer, it won't be long before he’s banging on our front door ready to show us a good time.”

You reach up to brush some of his fringe out of his face before releasing a dreamy sigh.

“He’s so handsome. Like, even from here I can tell he must be packing. I hope you’re right.” You say as Jongseong rolls his eyes, knowing damn well that Sunghoon is your type and you’re probably never gonna shut up about him. “Can’t believe someone cheated on that.”

“Alright, alright.” He playfully complains, shoving you back against the couch and practically smothering you with his form as he flops down on you. “He hasn’t accepted yet, save those compliments for if he joins. He seems pretty shy, probably likes to be doted on.”

“Ooh, shy?”

“Oh yeah, for sure. He was actually stuttering when I made the offer, I don’t think he noticed how red his face got.”

You chuckle at the mental image of Sunghoon being shy. You only had to meet him a few times to grow interest in him, but on first glance you’d think he would be the dominant type. It’s a welcome change that your husband thinks he’s the opposite.

“Do you think If I joined you next time, he might be more inclined to pull it out or something?”

“Absolutely not. I can imagine he wouldn’t even come out of his house if he saw you on his porch after what I said to him.”

“God, he’s cute.”

Jongseong nods against you in agreement, finally pulling his weight from you and standing on his feet.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun to see where this leads. Now if you’ll just follow me to the bedroom, I also told him I’d be fucking you tonight so I’d like to make good on my promise.”

Fortunately for you, Jongseong never makes a promise that he can’t keep.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

For days Sunghoon contemplates the things his neighbor said. Over the short time he’s known him, he clicked into friendship so easily and felt like he could trust him. Apparently, Jongseong felt the same way because spilling all of those intimate details right there during a regular hang out was a bit out of the blue. Then again, he can’t imagine a married man would simply offer for anyone to fuck his wife, so the pros definitely outweigh the cons of this situation.

If it was a joke, he thinks he would know by now. All he’s gotten from Jongseong since then is pleasant conversation as if the offer was never made to begin with. Which somehow makes it worse because he wants to talk about it. He wants more clarity.

God, since then, he’s had nothing but intrusive thoughts of fantasies he’s never considered before. He’s so horny out of his mind on a daily basis thinking about it, especially now that he doesn’t have his ex fiancée around. Porn has never been so loved by him until now. Even when he was a teenager, he never jerked off this much just to calm his thoughts.

The various types of porn he’s viewed within the past five days is insane. The post-nut guilt hit him pretty hard at first, sending him into both a sex crazed and sex starved stupor but, the interest only heightened from there as he would eventually start searching up porn related to the exact thing he’s been offered.

On the sixth night of contemplation, he peeks through his blinds at the house next door and notes the silence. He knows some wild things must happen in that bedroom and he wants to know what it is so badly. Naturally, he starts searching up some keywords without really knowing what any of it entails.

He watches cuckold video after cuckold video, feeling his opinions of fucking another man’s wife validated by the amount of people who seem to love it the way he wants to. Then, exhibitionism comes into play. He watches at least ten videos involving said kink, his cock growing so pathetically hard at the fact that this could be a reality if he wants. Then, voyeurism.

Good lord, that’s him. All of these videos, at least in the ten more he watches, he can easily put himself in the shoes of watching. Which only makes it more arousing when he lands on a video that is clearly scripted, but entirely too similar to what his kind neighbors offered.

There, a man watches through his window, palming himself as a woman gets absolutely railed against her own window. The camera pans to and from both ends of the scenario, for five minutes he watches the woman get fucked from the man’s window view, and then for another five minutes, he watches the man pleasure himself from her view as she moans and whimpers for him.

He watches intently, weeping cock twitching each time he closes his eyes and realizes that if he wanted it, that could be him. He could be the stranger in a window watching his neighbors get eachother off, except Sunghoon isn’t a stranger.

He doesn’t even need to watch the video to imagine now. Thousands upon thousands of videos comfort him in the idea that yeah, maybe involving himself in a marriage that isn’t his own is okay. Jongseong is a handsome guy, and pretty fit himself. Then there’s you, such a pretty fucking woman, walking around like you don’t like to get fucked by multiple people as your husband watches.

Goddamn, if there’s any couple he’d want to be involved with, it would be you and your husband.

Okay, maybe he’s interested and maybe that interest plays out the next day. Or rather, the next evening. Another Friday night, when Jongseong usually comes over to hang out except this time Sunghoon doesn’t respond to his texts until much later. Out of both nervousness and his own mind games hyping himself up.

If he’s gonna watch, he doesn’t want Jongseong to see him a mere hour or two before it happens, at least.

Now though, ten at night, he hyped up his cock the same way he hyped up his mentality. When he’s horny, it’s much easier for him to work up the courage to lay down his own hints, to show his own interest, and to play along with things he’s never delved into.

Sunghoon: Hey um

Jongseong: here I was thinking you were ignoring me or something

Sunghoon: can i ask about something?

Hell yeah he can.

Jongseong: oh? you finally warmed up to the idea?

Sunghoon: i’m just curious.

Jongseong peeps out his own window to see Sunghoon’s blinds very quickly close.

Jongseong: why’d you back away from the window?

Sunghoon: i don’t know, i feel like a weirdo

Jongseong: i invited you to watch me fuck my wife, Sunghoon.

No response.

There’s a few moments of silence on Jongseong’s end as he turns to you and flicks his head to the window.

“I’m ninety percent sure he wants me to fuck you in front of that window right now.”

“Oh?” You perk up in interest, hopping up from the bed and running over to the window beside your husband and peeking out. “Open them up then. If he watches, he watches.”

Jongseong nods, looking down at the silence of his text messages and smirking. You’re right, if Sunghoon wants to watch, he will.

And so, as you go make yourself up in the bathroom for a good first impression, Jongseong is quick to work himself up now too. Given, the two of you were about to call it a night and sleep since the day was quite exhausting, this is a welcome change of events. After all, Jongseong knows how you act when you’re both horny and exhausted. He’s sure Sunghoon will love it if he works up the courage to just look.

After a few minutes more of silence from Sunghoon’s message box, you make your way back into the room and stare at the window.

“Is his bedroom lined up with ours?” You ask, quirking a brow.

“I assume so, yeah.” Jongseong shrugs, still palming against himself lazily to get ready to put on a show.

“Oh, this could be really fun.” You say, now moving toward the window and pulling at the curtains to move them completely from Sunghoon’s presumed view.

Jongseong follows suit, raising the blinds so fast that the sound is almost laughable.

“Should I go ahead and take off my clothes, or?” You ask now, noting the way Sunghoon’s blinds are still very much closed.

“Put this on, tie it loosely and let it fall open for him.” Jongseong smiles, handing you the silk robe you only ever wear when a third is joining you.

“Oooh, perfect.” You laugh with a wiggle of your brows, stepping away from the window to completely undress and put on the robe.

Jongseong finally texts Sunghoon again when you get yourself situated, right there in the view of his dark and silent home.

Jongseong: blinds are open.

Thank god Sunghoon has read receipts on, because right as Jongseong goes to lock his phone and play with you, he notes that it’s been read and instantly glues himself against your back.

“He knows. Keep your eyes at his window, yeah baby?” Jongseong whispers before snaking an arm around you and slipping it under your robe to instantly rub against your clit.

You do exactly as he says, gluing your eyes to the window directly across from you as you slightly spread your legs and grip the windowsill. Jongseong is good at this, always great with putting on a show too. You know for a fact that even if Sunghoon doesn’t watch, you’re going to be seeing stars whenever your husband deems it appropriate.

“You think he’s gonna look?” You ask curiously with a sigh, trying not to immediately lose yourself to the feeling of his fingers against your clit, or the hand he’s currently slipping through your robe to grope and squeeze your tits.

“We can only hope, until then, just enjoy it.” Jongseong smiles against your neck, kissing the back of it before resting his chin on your shoulder, trying to work you up to where you start to slowly lose your sanity like you always do.

It works out perfectly for him, knowing that whether Sunghoon watches or not, he’s going to make damn sure you’re taken care of. His fingers expertly slide up and down your delicate folds, and his other hand pinches and rolls your nipple to the point that it’s swollen and sensitive. His kisses against your neck become peppered and gentle as he feels your legs start to shake a bit each time his fingers reach your clit again.

You try to turn your head to look at him, but he laughs.

“No, eyes on the window.” He says in a raspy whisper, pressing his barely clothed cock against your ass. Thankfully, he’s adjusted himself to where just the tip pokes out of his boxers and feeling the coolness of the silk robe offer a gentle and soft sensation, it satiates his needs for now. “Feels good even like this, yeah?” He asks, sliding his fingers down to tease with your hole.

You nod against him, breathing in deeply and turning to jelly against him. You love and hate the way he makes your body react. It’s hard to keep your eyes on that window across from you when you’re being offered sheer arousal right behind you.

“Mm, you always get so wet when you know someone might be watching.” Your husband compliments you, dipping his fingers in before sliding them out again and running them up to swirl around your clit with more pressure than before. “God, you’re soaking my fingers already babe, he doesn’t know what he’s missing out on–”

You let out a small moan, frustrated that you want Jongseong to be right. If only Sunghoon would take the two of you up on the offer. If only he would actually glimpse even for a moment. You clench at the idea of those blinds opening, grinding harshly against Jongseong’s hand with a desperate sort of sound.

Right then, you see movement next door. Jongseong can tell with the way your pussy grips his fingers tightly when he slides them back into you, and you let out a genuine and desperate moan. He flicks his eyes up, now noting the movement himself.

The way you writhe your body at the mere confirmation that Sunghoon is watching is insanely erotic to your husband. Whether it’s out of curiosity or if it’s out of arousal, it doesn't matter. He loves the way you get turned on so fast, and with this being the situation, he’s not surprised that you seem more desperate than usual. Plus, the fact that those blinds stay parted shows that Sunghoon likes what he’s seeing, and you couldn’t be more aroused by the thought of what he must be doing behind the veil of his own window-blinds.

Jongseong chuckles gently in your ear as you continue to lose your mind on his fingers, he can tell that now you’re moving to turn both him and Sunghoon on, rather than just him like moments ago. You grind more, you whine more, you get increasingly more wet.

And as you stare forward to the little space in Sunghoon’s window where his eyes sit, you grow more and more frustrated with the way he doesn’t open the blinds up. You want to see him too, you need to see if he’s touching himself.

Jongseong can tell through your frustrated moans that you need more, and like the doting husband he is, he offers a solution fairly quickly.

“What’s wrong?” He coos, fucking his fingers in again at an angle, deepening them inside of you and holding your waist in place. “He’s not giving you what you want?”

You nod brokenly, finally tearing your eyes from the window and shooting a pleading look to your husband, rolling your eyes back only slightly when his fingertips bump the soft and sensitive spot inside of you.

“My phone, use it.” Jongseong smiles, holding your waist in place tighter so he can fuck his fingers in at a harsher pace. You tremble in his grasp, unsure if you can even process the idea of texting right now. “Tell him to let you see him.”

You nod, smiling through the sensitivity of your g-spot being repeatedly assaulted, clearly on purpose, surely to have you going fucking feral. Reaching for the phone, your hands are trembling as you unlock it and read over the messages from before with Sunghoon. His curiosity is hopefully strong enough to actually stick around for the next however long, because god, you want him to see you fall apart.

Jongseong: open your blinds, let me see

Sunghoon watches you text as your body jerks with each hidden movement of Jongseong’s hand under that robe, and when his phone goes off he almost panics. Almost. He drops his cock and grabs his phone in one hand while using the other to keep the split of his blinds open enough to keep watching. Fighting the feeling of appearing like a damn stalker, despite his hips rubbing his achingly hard cock against the trim of the window.

The way Jongseong stares from behind you, the way you smirk through faces of pleasure at what he’s doing to you, at what he must be saying to you. Sunghoon has never felt so fucking aroused watching someone have what he wants. The way you skew your head to listen to what your husband is saying, the way his hands move to places he can’t see. Arguably, you look like the most fuckable person on this planet at the moment and it’s incredibly difficult to not want to fuck something, anything, right now.

Sunghoon knows he’s done for if he so much as grips his own cock by now. So quickly the thought of doing this made his pathetic cock weep against his briefs, and now, seeing it happen in real time just across the yard. Yeah, he could cum within seconds if he doesn’t try to control it. Upon reading your text though, he finds himself following precise directions and opens the blinds for you to reveal himself.

His face flushes seeing you in full without the blinds cutting off his peripheral vision. It kind of hits him differently realizing he’s in his own quiet bedroom fucking himself to the image of you propped up against the window for him. It’s embarrassing and he feels entirely pathetic when you look at him like this. Both so far away and so close at the same time. His senses are heightened tenfold the moment he sees you react.

An accidental moan spills from his lips, the sound breaking the heavy silence of his home and echoing through the walls as if to tell whatever ghosts that live here that he definitely wants to fuck around with the married couple next door. Your attraction to him only heightens the confidence he holds within himself.

You, on the other hand, can feel your arousal drip out of you and onto your husband’s hand at seeing Sunghoon coming into full view. Your hand grips at your husband’s, clumsily allowing yourself to feel the sheer force of how his fingers are plunging into you just at the right moment. You roll your head back briefly, basking in the pleasure of being fucked and watched.

“Keep watching babe,” Jongseong groans himself, flicking his eyes to Sunghoon. “He’s so hard.”

You weakly lift your head again, opening your darkened eyes and looking directly at the man through the window. His hair is a mess, fanning across his forehead, and he’s shirtless, revealing the abs you only assumed he had at first glance. His cock is heavy against his dark gray briefs, stretching the fabric out enough to tell you that, yeah, he is packing.

You make eye contact with him, staring straight into his eyes as you press your ass back and against Jongseong, who readily accepts the movement and presses his cock directly against you with a soft sigh of his own.

“Already?” He whispers to you with an amused chuckle, stilling his fingers and dropping his other hand to toy at the tie of your robe, hopefully so it falls open naturally at a quicker pace now that you appear to be losing it.

“Right now.” You respond in a desperate voice, hiking one leg up against the table off to the side and feeling your robe instantly fall open.

Your eyes devour the image of Sunghoon’s mouth falling open in what you can only assume is a moan at your naked body being revealed to him and Jongseong’s fingers rapidly fucking into you. Instantly, you shoot your hand to your chest and start toying with one of your nipples for him. Throwing a hungry gaze straight across the way and making obvious suggestions at him through it.

Jongseong from behind you is seemingly in his own little world when he pulls his fingers out and shoves his boxers down. He arches your back with his palm so that your ass lifts for him, instantly you can feel his cock between your legs. He takes a step back, pulling you with him and removing your leg from the table to position you in a way that if Sunghoon looks hard enough, he can see the way his cock slides between your thighs.

“Not yet, let’s play first.” Jongseong soothes you through the disappointed sigh of your leg being pulled down from the table. You were so ready to start fucking immediately, but of course he wants to make a good first impression. “Hold your legs together.” He adds.

You listen perfectly, feeling Jongseong’s cock slide easily between your thighs.

“God, fuck–” He moans, feeling the wetness of you drip down onto his length as you squeeze your thighs together as tightly as possible. “He would go insane over you.”

“He already is,” You chuckle weakly, staring at the way Sunghoon’s hand snakes under his briefs and tugs against himself. “I want to see it so bad.”

“Mm, yeah, I bet you do.” Jongseong responds mindlessly, loving the feeling your thighs offer to his desperate length. “Tell him then.”

Right then, Sunghoon can see a mischievous little smile form across your lips as he struggles already not to release against his perfectly cleaned window. The way Jongseong manhandles you is one thing, with his hands gripping onto your flesh just to pound his cock between your legs– fuck. But, the way both of you stare straight at him is another. Sunghoon might be obsessed with the way the two of you touch each other intentionally to get all three of you off. So badly does he want to be right there in the room, hearing you in his ear, watching Jongseong kiss across your skin and massage your pretty sensitive pussy. One that he hasn’t entirely even gotten to see yet.

Then, he jumps as his phone rings.

From your end, you watch as he jumps out of surprise, glances at his phone, then back at you, shaking his head with a wince as he grips his cock again.

“He’s not going to pick up.” You comment as the tightened squeeze of your thighs loosen up with disappointment.

Jongseong is instantly smiling, letting his cock fall from its place of stimulation and is pulling you back, back, back. Offering a full view of him falling back on the bed, and you falling with him.

“Show him your pussy.” Jongseong says, reaching around you to open your thighs as if you’re a grand prize for this little sex game of trying to seduce a broken hearted man.

Jongseong knows he has an entire list of positions he could do to get Sunghoon just as desperate as you get. Usually, presenting his wife’s pussy at another man is enough to have them making decisions they previously doubted. He hopes Sunghoon reacts the same, because if he’s being totally honest with himself, saying no to you when you’re spread out like this is a fucking sin.

You stare at Sunghoon when your husband spreads your legs, pussy pulsing around nothing more than the stare being directed at it. And there, sitting on Jongseong’s hips with your back facing him, you easily hold your legs open and slide your fingers down to circle your clit.

You stay like that for a moment, squinting to see Sunghoon’s reaction and noting the way his hand fucks faster under the fabric of his briefs. You want him to go harder, so hard that he needs to take that last remaining bit of clothing off of him so that you can see. Thankfully, Jongseong’s cock lies right below where your ass is sitting , and it’s easy to grasp it and hold it up against your folds. You grid against it gently before swirling your clit along the length of him, still staring at Sunghoon with a smile. As if to tell him, “this could be you.”

The way Sunghoon’s hand moves faster is one thing, the way he looks more unashamed now compared to when you first saw him in that window is another. The way his arms flex as he keeps his cock hidden beneath those briefs, jerking himself off desperately as if you can’t tell he’s struggling not to moan loud enough for you to hear even from here, it’s too fucking erotic.

Never have you and your husband had a neighbor to play with like this. Typically, you’re being watched in the same room, this is something entirely different. This is insanely arousing and you can feel your pussy clench each time you’re reminded of how fucking sweet this deal could be.

“Keep doing that” Jongseong continues to instruct through a half-moan, feeling the way you rub his length against you as a form of masturbation. “I’ll call him again.”

This time, you note how the phone rings once before Sunghoon is fumbling to answer. You see the way his hand stills to put his focus on saying “hello?” as if he doesn’t know it’s you and your husband. As if the people calling him aren’t watching him fuck himself.

Jongseong starts immediately though, his words driving you insane enough to know Sunghoon would have to react in a way that sends him over edge too.

“You wouldn’t believe how wet she is,” Your husband boasts without greeting him back, putting the phone on speaker and lying it next to the two of you. “I bet you would love to bury your tongue in her right now, wouldn’t you?”

Sunghoon nearly stutters as he hears the words, staring at the way you hold Jongseong’s cock right where you want it to grind against. It’s so much to be able to see and hear what’s happening, and it’s like something in his head clicks. He’s so fucking turned on that he feels like he’s going insane, so he puts his normal, level-minded self to rest. No room for embarrassment when his cock is already aching for the couple who seem to want him just as bad.

“Fuck, yeah,” Sunghoon sighs out, lying his own phone down against the window sill and fucking his hips forward into his hand. His briefs now stretched out to the point that they truly are more of an issue than anything else right now. “I would, god, how wet?”

You moan at how desperate his voice sounds, now pressing your clit directly against the head of Jongseong’s cock and deliberately making yourself moan from pleasure. When he flashes his cock to you though, fuck. Just barely he lowers his briefs, palm teasing himself in such a harsh way. He looks so pretty over there, all alone, watching someone else get to play with you like some kind of pervert.

“That’s it,” You say, knowing he can hear you. “Let me see you.”

Sunghoon does, shoving his briefs down entirely now, allowing you to imprint the image of how thick and heavy his length is in your brain permanently.

“Oh, you’d feel so good,” You half-groan to Sunghoon, now inching your husband’s cock straight to your hole and preparing to fuck the daylights out of him. “I knew you’d have a cock just as pretty as you.”

Jongseong chuckles from behind you, entirely aroused by the way you talk to another man, a more shy man. He can tell how desperate you are by now too, especially with the way you toy with his cock as if you picked it up from a store shelf and it’s not attached to him. He loves it. And when he sits up, wrapping his arms around you to also see Sunghoon, he smiles.

Both of you are totally fucking gone. Even from here he can tell Sunghoon is losing his mind over you. Thankfully, you deserve nothing less and Jongseong couldn’t be happier to play off of the way you both seem to want each other terribly.

“See this?” He says towards the phone, snaking his hand around you to move his cock and spreading your pussy lips. ”Even from there, can’t you see how wet she is for this?”

Both of you can hear Sunghoon’s muffled groan before you see it, his head falling forward against the window as he stares down at his hand and the way he fucks it. You’re entirely satisfied, because you know what he’s thinking. You can see how badly he wants it, and your husband does nothing but remind him of it.

“Do you want me to fuck him?” You finally ask, pushing your own agenda and rising up on your knees to situate yourself right above Jongseong’s length, where he takes over and holds it in place for you.

Sunghoon’s eyes shoot back to the two of you and he nods before breathing out a small “Yeah…”

He doesn’t seem like much of a talker, but it could still be stage fright. Even if he isn’t the one on the damn stage. You can imagine he would get better at this if he accepts the invite of your open blinds on more than one occasion.

Jongseong chuckles again at him, the breathy tone of his voice is quite obvious to him. Sunghoon is holding out, he doesn’t want to cum too soon and end the fun.

“You heard him babe, ride me.”

Instantly, you’re sinking down and feeling the harsh stretch of Jongseong’s cock pulsing inside of you. Your drawn out moan rings in Sunghoon’s mind as he watches the slow descent. Only now, noting how big Jongseong is, and seeing how well you take it. He twitches in his palm, eyes nearly rolling back to escape the overwhelming arousal that floods his thoughts.

Sunghoon isn’t sure if either of you are aware, but he can hear how wet you are through the phone. When you slide down and start bouncing, all while staring forward at him, he can hear it pour out of you. The slapping of your ass landing against Jongseong is a beautiful sound, and he does his best not to moan through it and muffle those sounds out.

He stares straight back at you, thinking hard enough at how he fucks the circle his fingers create. He’s losing his breath when he fucks his fist in time with the way you bounce, tuning into your face and imagining that he’s the one you’re riding. No offense to Jongseong, it’s nearly like he doesn’t exist right now considering he’s almost entirely hidden by you.

That doesn’t last too long though, because Jongseong makes himself well known through his breathy words. Dirty talking in a way that somehow, Sunghoon still finds himself shocked by it. The words turn him on, he can only imagine how you feel about.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so tight.” Jongseong says at first, gripping your thighs and basking in the way you squeeze his length each time Sunghoon does something to turn you on. “ All spread out like this for him? So, so good.”

Sunghoon feels so shameless, and for some reason it feels okay. Your husband is dirty talking to you about him and it’s insanely sexy when he hears it. Already stuttering his hips in his palm, especially when he notes that Jongseong moves his hands to your pussy and spreads it open again for him. Offering him the perfect view of his length sliding in and out of you.

“Would love to see how this pussy gets filled up, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Unsure if Jongseong is talking to you or to him at this point, Sunghoon answers without thinking.

“Fuck, yeah, fuck–” Sunghoon says with a cut-off groan, holding the base of his cock so tight he feels like he can’t breathe. He can’t release yet, he has to keep going.

You moan loudly at his breathed out answer, nodding your head frantically at the confirmation, answering for yourself shortly after.

“Yeah?” You start, encouraging Sunghoon to keep talking. “You think you could stretch me open too? Yeah?”

And then? He moans brokenly through the phone which instantly has you leaning yourself back, and lying against Jongseong’s chest. He falls back with you, holding you and once again and moving his fingers to your clit, his cock still pounding in at the perfect pace.

“Fuck, she’s there–” Jongseong grits out, feeling your orgasm wash over you and grip his cock insanely tightly. “Goddamn, feels so good babe, that’s it.”

Sunghoon, watching and listening, instantly releases the grip on the base of his cock, staring straight at the way Jongseong stuffs his length inside of you. Hearing the way you called his name with encouraging words echoes in his head, and then he stutters out a broken sob as he feels his own orgasm wash over him, and just like him, you’re also listening.

He must hold his breath when he’s close, or maybe he’s just way more shy than he appears to be, considering what he’s doing right now, but you don’t mind as you ride your own high. Ears popping shortly after when Jongseong continues to chase his own pleasure through the mess of your pulsing cunt.

Strangely enough, even Jongseong is shocked at how fast he cums from this. Releasing a mere two seconds after you relaxed around him. You can feel him pulse inside of you as you lie against him, pussy still on full display, cum dripping out of you in a beautiful scene for Sunghoon’s eyes to devour.

And devour, they do. Sunghoon just stares, head spinning as he ignores the spurts of cum hitting his window and dripping down onto his carpet. His hand is also drenched but he makes no attempt to move afterwards. Arguably, he’s still aroused by the image of the way your husband fills you up like that, and the way you’re so full of his cock that it dribbles out and onto your thighs from around him.

God, he wants to lick you so bad. Even now, fully spent and his sober-mind coming back to him, he wants to taste you. He wants to taste what Jongseong just spilled into you.

“Sunghoon,” Jongseong calls out, breaking the silence with an out of breath voice. “You still watching?”

There’s another moment of paused silence.

“Yeah–”

Jongseong smiles, nuzzling his face against you and your neck as you continue to lean against him out of breath. Slowly, he pulls out of you, once again spreading you open for Sunghoon to see, allowing the rest of his cum to drip out of you.

“Take a good look, because this pussy went fucking insane over you.” He says, slapping your sensitive clit twice before sliding his hand down and playing in the mess he’s made of you.

Sunghoon does look. He has been looking. Honestly, it’s almost embarrassing at the way his cock twitches with interest again, so fucking fast after having already been emptied. Never has his ex let him raw her like that. Never has he seen his cum drip out of someone. He’s so jealous right now.

“I’ll be coming over tomorrow to discuss this.” Jongseong adds nonchalantly, easily going from filth-talk to casual-talk. “Get some rest.”

“Goodnight, Pretty boy.” You call out with a dazed smile, finally moving yourself off of Jongseong and adjusting your robe back onto your shoulders.

And right before Jongseong hangs up the phone, both of you smile at each other at the way Sunghoon lets out, in the tiniest voice for such a broad man, a gentle little “Goodnight.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By morning, Sunghoon nearly forgot Jongseong said he was coming over. It wasn’t until the afternoon when he managed to get the image of you getting off out of his mind that he remembered there’s supposed to be a discussion about it.

Embarrassment hits him harder than it ever has, thinking about what he was doing for both of you to see. It wasn’t just a show for him, he put one on for the two of you as well.

When he makes his way back into his bedroom, he tries to ignore the fact that your blinds are still open, and there’s no one in the room. He pauses briefly, once again trapped in the on-going loop of what he saw happening on that very bed just the night before.

It feels like he’s doomed when Jongseong comes over. He could just not answer the door but it doesn’t change the fact that he lives right next door and he already came all over his window before your very eyes. Before Jongseong’s very eyes. He’s already crossed the boundary into someone else’s marriage and despite loving the idea of it, it’s scary. It’s not something he’s ever considered doing before meeting the two of you, and now, he’s kind of just confused as to how all of this works.

Like, it almost seems too sweet of a deal. You’re a beautiful couple, who is he to be able to watch what you do with your husband? What’s the catch?

Well, he comes to find out that there isn’t much of a catch at all. Jongseong shows up with a warm smile and a gift of wine. It felt welcoming but insanely awkward with the way it’s the first time Sunghoon has ever been offered a hug by him.

They hug. Jongseong fucking hugs him to say hello with that expensive ass bottle of wine as if to say “nice cock, my wife loved it.”

Jongseong does pick up on the awkwardness though, stepping through Sunghoon’s door and inviting himself in. After all, it’s only appropriate at this point. He keeps his smile though, loving the way you woke up in a good mood all thanks to Sunghoon letting his curiosity get the best of him.

“Don’t be like that,” Jongseong says, glancing around the house and nodding in approval that it doesn’t appear to be entirely barren. He kind of expected the house to not feel like a home, because that’s usually what single men do. “You can back out anytime you want.”

Sunghoon, somehow, feels eased by those words. His heart thumps against his chest at the thought of never doing it again though. Which is kind of weird to him.

“Sorry, I just don’t really know how to act right now...”

Jongseong offers him a warm smile again, seeing himself to the kitchen and opening the drawers.

“We can talk about that,” He waves him off, still rummaging through a kitchen that isn’t his own. “You got a corkscrew?”

Sunghoon nods, trying to make his frame seem as small as possible by tip-toeing past his neighbor with the huge cock and opening one of the only drawers he didn’t get to. He pulls out the corkscrew and hands it to him, making no attempt to look into his eyes even for a second.

“Oh my god, loosen up.” Jongseong rolls his eyes, shoving Sunghoon by the shoulder playfully and heading back to the bottle of wine.

Sunghoon feels slightly comforted by the fact that maybe he can loosen up with a bit of wine in his system, but getting to that point feels like it’s going to be hell. He’s never felt so embarrassed.

“Sorry,” He responds in a small voice, grabbing two random cups and following Jongseong. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to expect out of this whole thing, like–”

Jongseong cuts him off with a wave of his hand.

“That’s why I’m here to talk to you about it. Clearly this isn’t something you’ve done before, it’s not like we didn’t want you to get off or anything. You’ll come to learn that we enjoy this kind of thing.”

He pauses as he opens the bottle, shifting it to the side now to grab two cups and look at Sunghoon.

“If you end up not enjoying it, there’s always someone else we can find to take up the offer.”

Sunghoon very nearly panics, hoping it doesn’t show plainly on his face as he takes over pouring the wine. Jongseong picks up on people so easily, watching Sunghoon shake his head slightly at the words and pour a suspiciously nervous amount of wine into both cups.

“That’s the thing though,” Sunghoon says, popping the cork back into the bottle and already taking a swig of his wine. “I did enjoy it. I mean, I do enjoy it.”

Jongseong raises his brow, nodding his head in encouragement and grabbing his own cup before following Sunghoon to his living room.

“Good, I’m glad you had fun. Let’s talk about it then.”

Sunghoon knows it’s inevitable, and hopefully within the next hour, he won’t feel so cautious in talking about it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You know, usually I wouldn’t let her cum so fast,” Jongseong shrugs, standing to grab the bottle of wine and bring it into the living room. “I tend to try and get a few out of her but she just wasn’t going to let me. Did you see the way she grabbed it and sat on me? I couldn’t have stopped her even if I wanted to.”

The way Jongseong talks loudly and comfortably about it is kind of soothing. Given, this is probably why they’re opting to hang out inside of the house rather than outside. This is a private matter, an intimate one, even.

“She slept like a rock afterwards, and is now insisting we keep the blinds open at all times to view at your discretion.”

Sunghoon stutters a bit, scooting his cup towards Jongseong and hoping he pours another generous amount into his cup. Already, since he doesn’t drink too often these days, he can feel the buzz and comfort settles within him as Jongseong seemingly dotes on him.

“What I’m trying to say is, our blinds are permanently open unless you’d rather not do this. Alternatively, the door is open too, but,” Jongseong pauses so he can sip his drink. “You’re going to need to get tested first if you want that thing anywhere near my wife.”

Sunghoon shifts slightly, squeezing his legs together uncomfortably as his wine bubbles in his belly.

“I’ve already been tested. My ex cheated on me with god knows how many people, you think that wasn’t the first thing I did?”

“Smart man,” Jongseong claps him on the shoulder, now leaning in a bit too close for comfort if Sunghoon were still in his embarrassed mind-state. “We get that you’re shy about all of this, but I’ve gotta tell you, the way she clenched when you moaned, oh man.”

Sunghoon’s eyes start to shine at the compliment, for some reason feeling like he’s on top of the world hearing that.

“Felt like I was being strangled, honestly.” Jongseong laughs before going quiet. “So, what do you think?”

Sunghoon pauses, staring at his cup and then at his neighbor.

“I, um–” He sighs out of frustration, wondering why he can’t articulate a damn sentence with confidence. “I liked watching, I guess. Not sure if I’m ready to just…”

“Come over and fuck my wife?” Jongseong finishes his sentence playfully before immediately gripping Sunghoon’s shoulder and laughing fondly at him. “Take your time. Like I said, the blinds are open and we have a pretty active sex life. I can imagine you’re going to wonder how I’m not milked dry yet.”

He already wonders that.

“But I do want to say, if you decide to actually come over and show her a good time, there are rules to that.”

Sunghoon quirks a brow, unsure of if his mind is running in a way that will let him take down mental notes.

“First of all, she’s protected so as long as you can provide proof of your test you can cum in her all you want, she likes that but, you’re not touching her ass.”

Sunghoon nods, shrugging nonchalantly and surprised he even responded that way.

“She likes it rough but she doesn’t know you well enough yet. Don’t slap my wife, don’t grab her neck with the intention of choking her, and don’t call her any type of degrading name. Not yet, at least.”

Wow, his brain is actually taking down the mental notes perfectly. Even with these rules, he’s not entirely into hitting the person he wants to be inside of, not unless they ask anyway.

“That’s it. Those are the rules.” Jongseong says with a shrug, taking another drink and tapping his foot on the floor. “What about you? For possible future endeavors, what’re your terms?”

There’s a long pause. Sunghoon is totally unprepared to make rules for a situation he’s never even been involved with before, but he does his best.

“Well,” He breathes out, blowing a strand of his fringe up from his forehead in a huff. “I don’t know. Don’t put anything in my ass?”

“Well, that’s sucks,” Jongseong deadpans, then nods. “But fair, okay. What else?”

Sunghoon continues to let his eyes wander around his living room as he thinks of things he doesn’t like sexually.

“I really don't know. I’ve mostly just had normal sex. I can tell you what I do like?” He admits, knowing that all of this is just in case.

“Alright, go on then.” Jongseong nods, now topping off their drinks.

It’s actually hilarious to him, hearing Sunghoon list off the most mundane sex acts. He does his best not to chuckle at the mention of “blow jobs, I like those.” Instead, he offers something along with that, interrupting him.

“Ever been deep throated?” Jongseong asks, watching Sunghoon breathe in because it’s like he lost all of his breath trying to list off things he likes. “Like, you know, ever face-fucked?”

Sunghoon nods, then shakes his head, then nods.

“ I mean, my ex never really let me hold her head in place, but I tried once. And don’t even get me started on the way she would refuse to continue if she gagged even once.”

Jongseong shakes his head in pity.

“Man, you’re gonna love my wife.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well, to put it lightly, Sunghoon might, definitely, insanely, obsessively be in love with you. Not in like the “leave your husband” way but more in like the “i want you so bad and know that i’m allowed to have you if i’d just stop being a little bitch about it” way.

It’s been another entire week since Jongseong came over to discuss things with him and even more so now, is Sunghoon’s mind in the gutters. He’s thankful he’s good at his job, almost able to do everything needed without much thought behind it because if that weren’t the case, he would probably be fired by now.

Fired for being too horny at work isn’t something he ever considered would happen to himself, and though it hasn’t and probably won’t, he isn’t too shocked at this point to be learning more and more about these hidden little interests that only came to light when he met you and your husband.

Those blinds do stay open, and that little bedside lamp in your bedroom has become one of his favorite things. One, because it illuminates the way your body moves when Jongseong inevitably fucks the breath out of you, and two, because it’s actually kind of a nice lamp.

And god, his window. His poor fucking window. Four out of the seven nights since Jongseong came over has he been standing right there, blinds open, getting himself off. He knows he’s a pervert by this point. He embraces it now, knowing for a fact that you’re also embracing it, and even Jongseong is too.

The embarrassment that hits him after each time he releases hurts much less than the post-nut guilt of all that porn he was watching before all of this happened. He’s not sure why, but there’s something inside of him that tells him it’s because he’s wanted. He’s being fawned over by an entire married couple and it makes his confidence go through the fucking roof.

That second time he stood at his window, he was still unsure of it. But now, three more sessions later, he finds himself considering the offer of being in the room. Each time he thinks he should do it. You know, like release his cock mid-jerk off session just to run next door and barge into the room to bury himself inside of you, all while Jongseong allows it to happen and praises him for manning up to do it.

He hasn’t yet though, because most of the time he struggles to pull his eyes away from how fucking good the two of you look together. And you know, to him, when he thinks about actually being in that room with the two of you, there’s still some shame left in him about it.

Something about the idea of joining a married couple despite how much he loves watching them, the idea of them asking him multiple times to work his body on you, the idea of them leaving their blinds open just so he can get off at his own volition.

It’s such an insane fantasy come to life and the shame he feels about actually following through stays despite it wavering with each time he watches and listens in by calling you himself to hear you moan.

Again, by now, an entire week later and several sessions of pure voyeurism, he questions that shame and wonders how much it’ll take to ignore it. Next time for sure he’s going to go over there. Next time, he’s going to put that shame to rest like he did the first time with simply watching.

That next time doesn’t happen though, because you’re not wandering around your room naked for Sunghoon to see when his alarm goes off. Because yeah, it’s kind of a ritual now to look out the window and nod a little “good morning” to you and your tits.

When he looks outside near the afternoon, both cars in your driveway are gone and it hits him over how fixated he is on the two of you. It feels almost empty seeing the two of you gone on a weekend, when Jongseong is usually texting him to see if he wants to hang out.

By this point for him, yes, come over please.

Then, relief washes over him when he hears Jongseong’s car pull into the driveway. The amount of pining within Sunghoon at this moment is driving him insane. It’s only four in the afternoon by this point and his mind is reeling. Going miles a minute and honestly, he needs this overwhelming feeling to be eradicated.

He needs to do it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jongseong is shocked as he sits eating his dinner to the sound of a knock at his door. He’s swift when he stands to his feet and answers it.

“Oh, was gonna text you to hang out after dinner–” He pauses, realizing this is the first time Sunghoon has ever been on his doorstep save for when he greeted them with a meal after he moved in. He eyes him up and down momentarily before smirking. “Well, well, well.”

Sunghoon doesn’t quite make eye contact as he stands there and shoves the proof of his tests into Jongseong’s chest, already regretting the decision to come over without so much as texting.

“Showing up looking like this, already hard too?” Jongseong says snidely, glancing at the results and leaning himself against his door frame. His eyes stare directly at Sunghoon’s obvious raging hard-on beneath his pants, then he glances up at his face.

Sunghoon appears to be both ashamed and proud, presenting himself like a damn virgin.

“Relax, it’s cool. You can come in,” Jongseong finally says, trying to ease the tension that seems to be festering within his friend. “I’ll call and see if she’s coming home tonight.”

Sunghoon is fucking mortified. Of course he’s bad at timing. Of fucking course he shows up ready to fuck and you’re not even here. Now he’s just left standing just inside of the front door with a desperate and pathetic cock that, for some reason, still isn’t even going down.

“She’s. not. here.” Sunghoon says to himself loud enough for Jongseong to throw a laugh at him, putting the phone up to his ear after pressing the call button.

“She went to see her parents. I bet the second I tell her you’re standing there like that, hot ‘n hard, she’ll be running red lights.”

Sunghoon is flushed. Entirely aroused by this whole situation despite the embarrassment. The last thing he needs to admit to right now though, is getting off on the shameful way he’s acting. He knows he looks desperate, and that…for some reason, makes him feel proud.

He’s so in his head that he doesn’t even hear Jongseong talk to you. Completely misses the way he says into the phone “hey babe, guess who is standing in our living room right now? so hard it looks like he might cry.”

Totally misses the brief pause and then Jongseong’s response of, “yeah, you might wanna rush.”

Luckily for him though, he’s so in his head that time flies as he tries to will his length to go down just a little bit. It’s frustrating, really, to only learn certain things as they happen to him, but like, damn. He really feels like he’s about to burst already, just standing here with a woman’s husband who is knowingly about to let him fuck her.

“You’re not usually this quiet.” Jongseong finally says to Sunghoon, who is still just standing there in the living room. “You nervous?”

Sunghoon instantly nods, throwing his hands in front of his hard-on and looking at Jongseong.

“This is the worst, actually,” Sunghoon starts, shifting from one leg to the other and glancing away. “Fuck you guys for being so enticing.”

Jongseong shrugs proudly, offering a smile and then nodding his head as if to invite Sunghoon to sit on the couch.

“She’ll be here soon, I’m just going to clean up. Don’t think too hard and take off running, she’s excited.”

Sunghoon nods reluctantly, taking a seat on the couch and staring up at the ceiling in defeat. Jumping out of a window sounds pretty nice but by this point he assumes every window he will ever touch probably has his cum on it by now. You know, association and stuff.

Then, he hears a car pull up and he’s practically throwing himself to his feet. His balance turning him into a clumsy mess, totally forgetting how to navigate his body and entirely losing the ability to know how to navigate this entire situation.

The good news for him though, is that you practically jump out of your car and sprint for the door. Not even greeting Jongseong when you rush inside and kick off your shoes.

All Sunghoon knows is that, one second he stands to his feet and gets a head rush, then he hears a door slam, Jongseong letting out a breathy laugh, and then you slamming into him and practically knocking him back down onto the couch.

“All this time you made me watch? And now you show up when I’m at dinner with my parents.” You playfully scold him, immediately straddling him and grabbing his face with both hands so that he can look at you. “You’re going to have to tie me up if you don’t want me to be all over you right now.”

Sunghoon looks at Jongseong with a stunned expression, receiving a simple shrug in response.

“You want her to touch you?” He asks, heading for the bedroom and raising his voice to continue. “If not, I do have rope.”

Sunghoon looks at you, still totally stunned by how fucking fast you got on top of him. He’s rendered more speechless than you’ve ever made him, and his cock twitches painfully from the sensitivity of you sitting on top of him.

He nods politely, dipping his head and looking down.

“You can touch me.” He whispers, only to be cut off by Jongseong shouting from the bedroom.

“You guys gonna come into the bedroom, or?” He yells, peeking around the corner and shooting a look at you specifically, as if to remind you to pace yourself considering that Sunghoon is entirely new to this and still seems like a deer in the headlights.

You nod to Jongseong and then lift Sunghoon’s face back up to you again.

“I can tell your heart is racing,” You say to him in a fond tone, tilting your head playfully. “It’s okay, come on.” You add, pulling yourself off of him and grabbing his hand.

He stares at the way you intertwine your fingers. Feeling like if he thinks hard enough, you’re not married and you’re more into him than just sex. Then again, he doesn’t want to think about that at all. The whole reason he’s so turned on is because this is considered strange to most people he knows. He doesn’t even want to be in love, he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with any single person right now.

What he wants is this. What he wants is to watch you through his window, and lust over you, and then get to have you. Time and time again. What he wants is for Jongseong to always share you with him, because he can barely cross his own boundaries, better yet crossing someone else's.

At least with him, you’d be safe. Jongseong wouldn’t have to worry about broken rules or him coming into your home to take full control. This isn’t his relationship, it’s yours, and if the two of you want him involved even with just sex, he’s leaping for the opportunity at this point.

There, he’s led into the bedroom where Jongseong looks at him with a fond expression. Sunghoon stares for a moment, then looks around the room. It feels like he’s been pining to be in this very room for ages, and knowing he’s standing here right now feels even more overwhelming.

He glances at the window, looking through it into his own open blinds and the embarrassment hits him twice as hard, which obviously has his cock aching in arousal. He isn’t even ashamed of the little, breathy whimper of defeat he lets out at this moment, rolling his eyes back and furrowing his brows.

You let go of Sunghoon and take your place beside Jongseong, both of you checking Sunghoon out from head to toe before looking at each other and smiling.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Jongseong admits, feeling defeated that for the first time in his sex life with you, he doesn’t know how to get the ball rolling. “Why does this feel so intimate compared to usual?”

You laugh, now staring down both of them, wanting nothing more than to fuck and be fucked. The air in this room feels electrifying, and already you have goosebumps rising against your skin. It feels like heaven.

“Probably because he’s so close to home,” You chuckle, feeling totally in control with two lost men staring at you as if they want to eat you alive. “Isn’t that right, Sunghoon?” You say, taking a step towards him and already lifting your shirt off of you.

Just as quickly as Jongseong loses his ability to be the one in control, he gains it back after seeing how confident you are. He knows for a fact how badly you want to be on Sunghoon right now, and he has no qualms with that, but part of the fun is being able to present you until the third in the room is practically drooling.

“Not too quickly,” Jongseong warns, pulling you back by the arm and wrapping his arms around you, dipping his head down to kiss your neck and look Sunghoon directly in the eye. “Just look at him for a bit.”

Sunghoon feels so fucking seen right now, his cock still wildly twitching at each word and glance. He very nearly falls to his knees right then, because in all fairness he’s been rock hard all fucking day and intentionally held off so that he would be so out of his mind, that surely he’d fuck you as good as you need him to.

“Jongie, I’ve been watching him.” You say, leaning against his warmth and devouring Sunghoon with your eyes, “C’mere, Hoonie.” You add, giving both men shortened versions of their names to show your adoration for them at this moment.

Sunghoon manages to take a step forward without his knees buckling from under him, his eyes scanning your bare torso and the way your chest is hidden by your bra. He can’t not stare, after all, he’s grown accustomed to it by now. He knows what's under that bra and what’s under those pants, but it still doesn’t change the fact that he’s never seen your body this close. He’s never touched you before.

“Well?” Jongseong looks at him as he makes his way across the room a bit too slowly for his liking. “We have all day, technically.”

Sunghoon switches his eyes over to Jongseong, who seems amused by how enamored he is right now with you. His mind is fairly blank right now, outside of thinking about everything he wants to do, everything he wishes he could say, but still, all he can manage to do is stand in front of you, still not reaching out. He looks at the way Jongseong has you locked in his arms, holding you still against his chest as if to tame a beast from him.

“You’re so pretty, Sunghoon, really.” You say, blinking up at him and tapping Jongseong to loosen his grip on you. “You can touch me too, you know.”

He’s still reluctant, looking to Jongseong once again for confirmation and receiving a nod. His hands reach out, touching nothing more than your bare shoulder before sliding down your waist and stepping even closer.

You can feel the warmth radiating off of them as they sandwich you there between them. Jongseong and his confident breaths behind you easily contrast to Sunghoon’s deeper, nervous breathing. You kind of get now why your husband told you to just watch for a little bit longer. Sunghoon is so readable, with the way his eyes can’t find where to land, the way his hands know where they want to go but he clearly holds back from doing too much too soon out of fear that this entire agreement will shatter before his very eyes.

You hum out happily, leaning your head back against Jongseong and pressing your hips forward, against Sunghoon. Feeling entirely loved, wanted, needed.

“I missed this feeling,” You sigh out with a pleasured smile, throwing an arm out and over Sunghoon’s shoulder, pulling him even closer. “I bet you’ll miss it too. I bet you’ll keep coming back for it.”

Jongseong hums as well, nodding his head in agreement before blinking over at Sunghoon and lifting a brow. He wonders how long they’re going to stand here staring at each other so, rolling his eyes dismissively, he presses on.

“I want to watch you eat her out.” Jongseong announces, feeling that it’s not too out of the ordinary to make suggestions since Sunghoon appears to be totally blinded by your tits right now anyway.

Sunghoon nods with empty eyes, shortly before you see him physically break out of his presumed trance and take a step back, very nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Wait, really?” He asks, somehow still unsure that this is a thing that’s actually happening as he regains balance.

“Oh, absolutely.” Jongseong encourages him, using the emptied up space in front of you to maneuver you over to the bed.

Sunghoon watches as your husband sits you down on the bed, grabs two pillows and places them behind you, then shimmies your pants off of you in a very loving way. He doesn’t know whether to be jealous of Jongseong for being able to love someone enough to pleasure them using others or to be jealous of you for being loved so blatantly.

“Sunghoon,” Jongseong calls out, tapping your legs to spread them out and taking a step back to make room. “Go on.”

Sunghoon’s legs take him there before his brain can think twice. One second he’s looking at you from the angle of the center of the room, the next he’s falling to his knees, staring straight between your legs at the point of his lust for the last however long. Slender fingers gripping your thighs much the same way Jongseong did the first night he saw the two of you together like this.

It continues to hit him like a freight train. He’s here. He’s doing this. Not even a year ago he was sleeping in a different place, with a fiancée, making calls to find venues for a fucking wedding, and now he’s here. Between the legs of another man’s wife, at his request.

Why is he so pleased with the drastic change of events? Why is his mouth watering looking at the small damp spot seeping through your panties? Why does he feel like he isn’t even himself at this moment?

None of it matters, not when you reach out and run your fingers through his hair to urge him forward. He leans into the touch, closing his eyes and breathing out through his nose because it’s been a long time since he felt the loving touch of another person in his hair like this.

It’s been a long time since he’s felt the warmth of a woman in front of him, and even longer since he last felt this drunk on the atmosphere around him. Your soft fingers scratch against his scalp, and that alone makes his entire body shiver as he nuzzles against your thigh lovingly, leaving his kiss against your skin for the first time.

Jongseong watches, not entirely used to a man acting like this with his wife. Usually, they’re already trying to get their cock inside of her, but Sunghoon seems to be basking in the touch and feel of it all through each step and in a way, he understands. He was with someone for six years and planned to spend his life with her, he can imagine this is something Sunghoon missed doing, despite the bitch not even wanting to gag on him.

He feels fond watching the two of you, situating himself on the bed and letting you lean up against him. There, he starts to work your bra off of you, matching Sunghoon’s slowly paced arousal.

You, on the other hand, feel like your body is catching fire. That little gentle kiss against your thigh was followed by several more, peppered up to your panty line, down to your knees, and then right back up before he even thinks about leaving a kiss against the seat of your panties.

Which, he does eventually get to doing. Jongseong watches your body jolt at the touch. He can tell you’ve been anticipating it since Sunghoon got on his knees but knows you’re both pacing yourselves for the sake of him being able to enjoy himself.

Jongseong’s hands do remain on your tits through it, massaging and pinching against your nipples until they’re erect and sending jolts of sensations straight to your clit. Thankfully, Sunghoon appears to be preparing himself to see your arousal up close and personal by this point, keeping his lips right up against it as his fingers toy with the hem of your panties.

He looks up at you, still searching for confirmation on instinct and can’t help but feel that the green light was given the second he moved into the house next door with the way you both look at him.

You’re not the only one being loved on right now. He feels entirely taken care of simply for being able to go down on you, and he wants nothing more in this world than to make you feel good.

So, he does his best. Reaching his arms forward and gripping the sides of your panties before gently pulling them down. He watches as your, by now very wet, panties unstick from your folds as he reveals it to himself and honestly, he doesn’t even care at this point with how he blatantly moans over it.

And just as you thought he was going to take his time like before, it’s like your entire world is flipped upside down. You take in a sharp and surprised inhale at the way he’s got his tongue on you the second your panties hit the floor.

Jongseong chuckles at your surprise, internally praising Sunghoon for that sudden jolt of confidence he must have gotten to do that after unintentionally teasing you for far too long. He can feel your nipples react to what he’s doing, and through the sound of Sunghoon’s tongue, his groans through the taste of you, even he feels like he’s going insane just sitting with you against him like this.

“Ah, fuck,” You moan out, feeling the way his tongue leaves no part of your pussy unexplored. “Fuuuck.” You continue, totally speechless and unable to praise him the way you’d very much like to right now.

When you run your fingers through his hair again, feeling the way he moves his head beneath them, the way he stiffens his tongue as he slides it up your entire pussy, then lands on your clit and begins to flick his tongue at such a pace? You can’t help it when your legs nearly close in on him, shaking against his ears.

Jongseong is there though, quickly reaching down to hold your legs open for him.

“Sensitive?” He gleefully whispers to you, watching the way you grip Sunghoon’s hair in your fingers through the obvious struggle. He knows you won’t answer, which is fine, because he loves when you get like this. Though it’s never through a man simply giving you some good head.

Sunghoon continues his assault with his tongue, so drunk on the taste of you that all he can do is keep going. Keep tasting, flicking your clit until it’s swollen before sliding back down again and burying his tongue inside of you as deep as it’ll go. Like he can’t get enough, especially with the way your hips wiggle to get away, with the way your fingers try to weakly tug his head away from you.

He hopes this is exactly what Jongseong wanted to see, because he couldn’t be happier to fulfill the request. Moaning into you only to breathe nothing but you back in. His cock still neglected from a full day of arousal, tasting you alone is soaking his pants. Never has he felt so desperate for something. Never.

Even when he can feel the bed shift and your legs close around his head again, he continues.

“Hold her legs open for me,” Jongseong instructs as he pulls himself off of the bed, now seemingly so aroused that he feels the need to involve himself. He shimmies off his clothing and props himself back up on the bed, directly next to you and easily holding his length to bump against your slacked and moaning mouth.

You readily accept your husband into your mouth. Instantly taking him as deeply as you can out of sheer arousal. Wanting to do the dirtiest things your brain can come up with solely because of how good everything feels right now. Jongseong loves it, especially with how greedy you seem as you furrow your brows and will yourself to take more into your mouth.

“Sunghoon,” Jongseong calls out, reaching over to tap his hand that’s putting his obvious strength to use against your thighs to get his attention. “Look.”

Sunghoon does, after sliding his tongue back up and flicking your clit several more times to get those satisfying shakes of your body in reaction. His eyes trail up as he finally takes a breath of fresh air, only now realizing that you’re both entirely naked.

“If you keep coming back,” Jongseong starts, moving his hand to caress your cheek before holding the back of your head in place. “this” he punctuates with a hard thrust into your mouth, gagging you. “is what you have to look forward to.”

Sunghoon watches as Jongseong holds your head there, continuously gagging, and then he glances down to your pussy and goddamn. You’re clenching around nothing each time you gag, and the moans you’re letting out along with your gags sends him over edge. His tongue is immediately back on you, satiating that clench with his tongue as best he can.

The sound of Jongseong’s ever expected fond reactions goes unnoticed by Sunghoon as he puts his entire fucking soul into eating you out.

Thankfully, you’re able to breathe shortly after, kind of. Save for the fact that when Sunghoon’s isn’t knocking the breath out of you, Jongseong is stealing it by blocking your airways with his length and moaning all the same.

The entire room sounds so erotic, and everything still feels like it’s on fire. Your sensitivity subsides as your focus falls to pleasing your husband, leading your hips to chase Sunghoon’s hungry tongue anywhere it goes.

It stays like this for a few minutes, all three of you seemingly lost in each other before you feel your husband lean over, allowing you to take care of his cock without his help and sliding his fingers straight to where Sunghoon’s tongue is.

There, he easily slides them in, and still, Sunghoon doesn’t stop. It doesn’t phase him one bit. His tongue continues, working around Jongseong’s fingers and sometimes even licking around them to taste the arousal that seeps from deep inside of you. By now though, he’s humping up, wanting more, more, more. Your hips chase his tongue and your husband’s fingers the same way his hips chase nothing.

Jongseong only likes him more by this point. Even the times they have been with curious men, typically they’re not licking your pussy and his fingers. Sunghoon is so peculiar about this, and arguably his lack of experience is what’s making this feel so fucking magical. His attention doesn’t appear to be divided between the both of you, nor does it even appear to be solely on you like he thinks it is.

He’s treating you both as if you’re one person, one soul, and appears to accept anything either of you offer as long as you feel good and Jongseong is satisfied with how things are going.

Never has their bedroom been this silent of words either, especially when someone else is involved. There’s always crude words, but at this point all three of you seem to understand that you’re experiencing rather than trying to put on a show. You’re not competing, you’re not rushing for the finish line, you’re just…fucking. Existing within pleasure together.

“He’s a natural.” Jongseong compliments, sliding his fingers up and out of you only to slide them into Sunghoon’s mouth. The man accepts them too, sucking your wet off of his fingers with a pornographic groan at the warmth and taste of them. “Wonder what else he can do?”

You smile when you pull off of Jongseong’s, now leaking, cock and look down at Sunghoon. He’s already looking up at you, lips glistening much like his eyes are as he plants more kisses up your body. Solely because Jongseong practically hides your entire pussy with the palm of his hand from him as a hint to move his hungry assault elsewhere.

He does, happily. He’s satisfied even as he kisses up your belly and feels like he doesn’t need to ask to plant those same glistening lips against one of your nipples and fondle it with his tongue just as beautifully as he did with your clit.

He leaves space for Jongseong’s hand when he moves up, trying to be careful to avoid his hard on brushing against anywhere where it’s not wanted, which doesn’t seem to be much of an issue because Jongseong pulls his hand back shortly anyway, pulling off of the bed and studying the two of you.

You hug Sunghoon’s head while he worships the chest he’s stared at from his window day after day. Jongseong can clearly see how shy Sunghoon is, but he still seems to be doing everything in a way that makes you both love it. At this point, it wouldn’t even matter what he does, he knows you’d go insane over it, and that’s enough for him to allow it.

He can’t help himself when he leans over you to kiss you, seemingly so in love with you, careful not to accidentally bump Sunghoon’s head from your tit and probably cause some sort of huff or pout out of him.

“Lay him back.” Jongseong whispers to you through his kiss, pinching your chin to keep your lips on his for a few moments longer before letting you go.

The way your eyes shine, and the way Sunghoon’s tongue seems to never tire, you’re almost sad to pull him off of you. But you do, nonetheless, guiding him to stand to his feet and finally running your hands up his torso to urge his shirt off of him.

You stare at his abdomen, touching and feeling each dip of it. His arms are just as nice and toned, and god damn is his cock huge. You could tell from the window, and you can tell here, even while it’s clothed.

“Off.” You say, tugging him forward by his jeans and sitting yourself up.

He laughs awkwardly at the movement, looking between the two of you and honestly, damn. You’re both so fucking beautiful right now. He’d be delighted to take these pants off, and he does.

Shortly after, you instruct him to lay back on the bed and he’s only getting more and more comfortable with the situation. Doing exactly as instructed, not even embarrassed by his angry and heavy cock twitching in near pain to be touched.

“God, look at him.” You groan, now moving yourself on the bed to lean on one elbow and trail your fingers up his abs.

His entire body twitches at the touch, and he winces just a little bit with a sexually frustrated huff.

“Should I fuck him?” You ask, looking up at Jongseong, who was actively already fisting his length shamelessly at all of the ideas he has in his head that you could to do Sunghoon, or of what Sunghoon could do to you.

“Do you want to?” Your husband retorts with an aroused moan following shortly after, looking over to Sunghoon and watching the way he straight up nods shamelessly and practically grabs you by the arm to pull you on top of him.

“So eager,” You laugh, throwing your leg over him and instantly seating yourself directly on his cock. Feeling how huge it is, how hard it is.

Sunghoon moans at that alone, hands shooting to your waist and squeezing so hard that you know it’ll leave a painful sensation later.

“Go on then, fuck him.” Jongseong says, amused with how badly this man wants it.

And you do, without much more of a warning. You lift yourself and expertly slide straight down on his pathetic cock. You watch Sunghoon as you do it, struggling to breathe through the feeling of your tight walls clenching around his length and attempting to adjust to his size.

Sunghoon runs his own fingers through his hair now, trying to keep himself grounded by the feeling he’s missed out on for so fucking long. He lets out a deep half-sobbed moan, cursing at the feeling and nearly tearing up at how fucking tight you are.

“Shit,” Sunghoon grits his teeth, holding your waist still as if to keep you from moving, then he’s wrapping you in a hug and pulling you straight down against his chest.

Jongseong skews his head, taking a step closer to see how well Sunghoon fits inside of you and damn. Your pussy is clenching every passing second trying to adjust, and his entire body is reacting to it. Naturally, Jongseong has no choice but to grip his cock harder at the scene, biting back his own desperate moan so that he can still appear to be collected about this.

As you lay in Sunghoon’s arms though, the harsh hold of him keeping you in place, you can’t help but sigh at the searing stretch inside of you. And he, on the other hand, is being driven crazy by the smell of your hair. Honestly, the scent alone is driving him wild enough that it’s a struggle to keep his own hips from writhing with the need to stretch your pussy out more.

“Keep him still while you make room for me.” Jongseong finally chokes out. “Don’t let him cum.”

You breathlessly nod, trying to press yourself up from Sunghoon’s heaving chest just to grip onto his shoulders and bounce against his desperate attempts to stop you. He gives in after the second bounce though, going from trying to hold you down on him to loosening up and almost helping you bounce.

“That’s it, that’s exactly what she wants–” Jongseong compliments, running his fingers up your back and making you shiver. “Right, babe?”

You try to answer, but you moan out instead with the way Sunghoon’s hands keep you bouncing at such a pace that your g-spot is being repeatedly fucked against. And when he moves his hands to your ass, he loses himself to the pleasure as his eyes darken even more, fucking up now, deeper into you when you slide down on him.

“So deep,” You nearly sob out, hands reaching out for Jongseong somewhere behind you, and he’s quick to be there for you.

“I know, baby.” He asks, leaning onto the bed to kiss against your face. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Sunghoon moans before you can, sinking his head further into the pillows and letting himself get lost in the feeling of you bouncing on him. Jongseong was right about this before, you do get wet. Fucking soaked.

“You can take more, baby.” Jongseong says to you now, seemingly ready to give you more than either of you know you can handle.

Still, you nod, knowing exactly what he’s wanting to do. You adjust the way you bounce, now leaning onto Sunghoon’s chest so that his cock slamming into you is on full display for Jongseong.

“Slow down for a second, Hoon–” Jongseong says, liking the nickname well enough to use it himself. “Let me show you what sharing feels like.”

And holy fuck, Sunghoon is not prepared for it. He’s shocked that you’re wanting it, with the way you pant out breathless, pained moans against his collar bone as Jongseong makes attempts to stretch you out more than you already are.

Sunghoon holds onto those little pants, feeling your hands grip against his body as your husband nudges the head of his cock inside, causing both of you to cry out with a desperate sound.

Inch by inch, Jongseong works himself in, holding his breath and soothing your back throughout the process, up until he’s managed to fit about as much as he can into you and thrusting forward just once to test the waters.

“Shiiit–” He moans through a laugh, pulling out and thrusting in again, harder. “So tight.”

The reaction is more than Jongseong could ever have wanted. Both of you, clinging to each other through the overwhelming sensation. Sunghoon, probably overly sensitive from the feeling of your pussy gripping him and Jongseong’s cock massaging the underside of it as he chases his own pleasure. Then there’s you, constantly clenching to adjust, letting out little pleased cries that only get prettier and prettier, especially when they’re mixed in with Sunghoons.

At this point, Jongseong can barely tell which one of you is moaning, but it’s all the same to him and he begins to do the work for all three of you. Loving the way he’s managed to make his wife and another man fall apart beneath him.

“God, you both love it.” He says, knowing for a fact that you’re both too gone by now to hear him. Which is good, because he can’t hold his own moans in anymore.

So, he doesn’t. He grips your hips to hold you in place and continues to thrust, feeling your pussy relax with each thrust until even Sunghoon is able to fuck up slightly. And for you, feeling both cocks sliding into you opposite of each other, you really can’t comprehend a single thing outside of pleasure right now.

You can hardly breathe, so talking isn’t entirely on your agenda, still though. You try.

“Fuck, fuck–” You breathe out, gripping even tighter onto Sunghoon now.

“So fucking wet,” Jongseong soothes, offering a harsher thrust now that he’s beginning to lose himself to the feeling too.

“So fucking, big–” You say, mostly into Sunghoon’s ear despite your husband having a good size as well. “Don’t stop. Fuck me open–” You moan to him, encouraging him to keep trying to fuck up.

Jongseong smirks at your hushed and out-of-breath words, you always get dirty when you’re super turned on. Plus, the way Sunghoon follows instructions is insanely sexy too.

In fact, he follows your instructions a little too well. Somehow, Sunghoon overpowers both your weight on him and Jongseong’s harsh thrusts. To the point that he actually has to stop moving his own hips because if he doesn’t, Sunghoon will get all three of you off within seconds if he keeps going at this pace.

“Yeah, fuck, yeah,” Jongseong moans in probably the most erotic voice you’ve ever heard come from him before. Because, never in your life alongside him have you heard him have to cut off his comments with a moan. “He likes it fucking rough.”

And he’s not lying. Part of you wonders if Sunghoon has ever been able to fuck this way, because even as you and your husband manage to find room to converse through this, Sunghoon is still gone and lost in his own world. Still holding onto you, and still fucking into you so hard that you’re very nearly releasing little yelps each time he bottoms out.

Jongseong, on the other hand, knows exactly how your body reacts when you’re getting close. Usually knowing before you do, and he really does his best to keep his composure through this. He does his damndest to hold off, amazed that Sunghoon lasted past the first instance of you sinking down on him.

Shaking hands reach between you and Sunghoon, and you’re quick to sit up and lean back against Jongseong instead to let him have access to your clit. Despite his cock slipping out of you slightly, he can still manage to fuck a few inches in at this angle, and honestly it’s a welcome relief because if he continued any further, he worries your clit would be left long neglected by his brain malfunctioning in a sudden orgasm.

You smile in a daze as you stare down at Sunghoon, his eyes droopy and hooded when he opens them, but for the most part remaining closed and focused on fucking you as good as he can. And paired with the sensation of Jongseong rubbing your clit, you’re rendered useless in announcing that you’re close.

Thankfully, your lovely, amazing, and doting husband knows you as well as you know yourself.

“Keep going,” He breathes, out of breath and reaching his other hand up to hold one of your tits in his hand, lips going to your neck. “She’s close.”

Sunghoon lets out a choked moan at the same time you let one out, and instantly Jongseong pulls out with a pleased and frustrated moan.

“There you go baby,” Jongseong coos at you, now focusing solely on rubbing your clit with one hand and fucking his fist with the other. ”Squeeze him.”

God, you do, coming undone wrapped around his relentless cock, pulsing and shaking as Jongseong makes no attempt to ease the orgasm out of you. His fingers only circle your clit harder, and Sunghoon only fucks up harder.

“Fuck, Sunghoon,” Jongseong calls out, watching the man in awe. “How are you holding out right now?”

Sunghoon blinks up, his eyes totally lost to arousal and he continues to fuck into you far past your orgasm ending, loving the slide of how much wetter you got through it. He feels like he’s fucking half a year’s worth of himself into you, which is fair. Because he definitely is.

“Look at him babe, tell him it’s okay.” Jongseong continues, wanting Sunghoon to get off so that he can stop holding off on his own. It’s entirely insane how much self-control this man has.

Not even Jongseong himself could withstand this without losing a bit of self control, and yet, god. He really is the perfect third. The perfect neighbor.

This is an indication that Jongseong is about to go full cuckold and work at himself as you take what you want from Sunghoon, and you really do try.

Your legs shake around him as you continue to try and ride him, leaning down to hover over his lips in a faux first kiss to tell him to rest his hips, and he does, sighing out a little sound of relief as you take back the control.

He’s never been so fucking turned on in his life, and in all honestly, not even he knows how he hasn’t gotten off yet. He’s needed it all day. He’s needed it all his fucking life, it seems.

Jongseong studies the way your tired legs work, the pace slowing down minute by minute before he steps in. His control now fully regained as his orgasm fades and he can continue to instruct and enjoy without a wall of pure sex invading his actions. He releases his cock now, stilling your hips and pulling you off of Sunghoon.

The sound alone is somehow filthier than any porn he’s ever heard. Sloppy and wet, paired with Sunghoon’s frustrated groan at the loss of warmth.

“Hoon, take the lead.” Jongseong says, helping you to lay back and rubbing your thighs to soothe them, only moving you from the position because he knows you’re going to be sore tomorrow.

Sunghoon, of course, jumps into action immediately. Lifting from his spot and situating himself between your legs with ease. Now being able to see you under him, rather than hovering above him, he feels like he has all the power in the world to treat you right.

“Anything you want,” He says, already adjusting himself with your pussy and pressing in. “Anything, just tell me.”

You’re entirely endeared by his words and can’t help it when you pull him down in a huff and connect your lips to his for the first time. He melts into it, fucking his hips into you at a slower pace now, deeper, more lazily.

He’s smelling you and feeling you entirely, every sensation in the world he could ever want is being satiated right now, and he’s not ashamed to whine through it. Pumping himself into you until it hits him, all because you fucking kissed him.

So hard does it hit him, each thrust milking him entirely of his cum and not trembling once through it. His cock has been sensitive all day, this new sensitivity is welcome to him as long as you continue to lick into his mouth and scratch against his back like this.

It’s a given that he was a goner the second he got on top, and when he finally empties the last, impossible amount of cum into you, his ears pop and begin to ring.

“You guys look so cute–” Jongseong coos, helping Sunghoon out of you on wobbly legs before he leans down to scoop some of the mess out of you. “Now, you lay back too,” he adds, still toying with the cum dripping from you.

He does, relieved and thankful for the rest after that exhausting experience. He’s out of breath when he flops himself down next to you, turning his head slightly to look at you and how content you seem to be. It makes him feel content too, even without your lips against his.

There, Jongseong scoops some of that cum out of you and slathers his fingers with it, shuffling forward onto the bed to place himself between your legs now. Then, his fingers make their way over to Sunghoon.

“Taste it.” He says, wondering if Sunghoon will fight the idea of doing it.

Shockingly, he doesn’t. He opens his mouth with ease and sucks Jongseong’s fingers into his mouth for the second time. You watch, watching the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the taste of himself mixed with you. You groan out, throat dry from the embarrassing amount of moaning before wiggling your hips.

“Patience, babe,” Jongseong says, not even glancing at you and keeping his eyes trained on the way Sunghoon eagerly licks his fingers clean before releasing his fingers and blinking over to you, and then up at him.

“You’re both going to fucking kill me.” Jongseong lets out, rolling his eyes before training them on you. “Gonna stuff this mess back into you, yeah?”

You nod obediently.

You’re so content, readily accepting your husband in his rightful place and basking in the familiar feeling of his length pressing inside of you. It’s a feeling you know, and a feeling you love despite having already been fucked open by both of them already.

At this point, it’s not even just arousal in the air. But like, a secret second thing that somehow feels more content than content.

Jongseong is in love with the way you look right now though, arguably so for Sunghoon too. With his fucked out face looking just as drowsy as yours does despite the sun setting when all of this started. It’s not as late into the night as it seems to feel, which is fine because time seems like it works differently at this moment.

“Kiss her,” Jongseong says, with a last gift to Sunghoon for fucking you so well. “Thank her.”

He does, because of course he does. He dips in so fast, cradling your face in the same delicate way he touched your thighs from before. Kissing you just as gently, all while Jongseong takes his time to slide into you with such a fulfilling pace that, honestly, if you will it hard enough, you could probably get off another three times if you wanted to.

But you don’t, putting that filthy side of you to rest as you allow your husband to take what he needs. His pace quickening much like Sunghoon’s kisses do, up until you’re bouncing up with each thrust of his hips, and Sunghoon is left chasing your lips. Up, down, up, down.

He chuckles into it, his teeth catching your bottom lip a few times before chasing your lips harder, all for Jongseong to admire from above.

And admire it, he does. Loving the way you kiss Sunghoon in a playful way compared to himself. There’s passion here, and it makes it all the more easy for him to work himself up to his own orgasm.

You’re not shocked at Jongseong’s silence through his own high. Pressing his hips so tightly against yours, trying to bury himself as deeply as he can go to release all of this tension inside of his body. You still feel as full as you did when they both were inside of you, but this is something entirely different. It’s Jongseong, and it still shows that he’s the one person on this Earth who knows you better than you know yourself.

He knows you love to feel his cock pulse inside of you, know you love when it dribbles down your thighs as you wobble to the bathroom, and now apparently, he knows you seem to love kissing Sunghoon through the entire experience. Clenching against his orgasm as if you were already willing to start over from the beginning.

And just like that, he pulls out and lays on the other side of you, stealing your lips from Sunghoon briefly and kissing you. Both out of appreciation and love.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The clean up was devastating. Poor fucking Sunghoon, never realizing that aftercare is like, a huge important factor to fucking that hard. Which only solidifies it to both you and your husband that he’s clearly never been given the sexual freedom he so needed.

The two of you exchange side eyes at the way Sunghoon expects to shower alone and take care of himself, despite walking straight into a wall on wobbly legs with sleepy, mostly closed eyes.

You help him to the shower, Jongseong allowing you to join him and clean him up as he sits just outside and waits to ultimately clean himself up this time. After all, Sunghoon was the one who fucked you senseless, the least he can do is learn how to clean up the mess and soothe your muscles.

Fortunately, he seems to be pleased to learn and eager to put his new knowledge to use. Standing there under the warm water with a blissed out little smile, hands gently caressing your sore pussy as if to soothe your sensitivity. Obviously, it doesn’t work that way but, you still give him credit for it.

By the time you’re done showering, Sunghoon is practically dead weight. Literally fucked himself to sleep, it seems, as Jongseong laughs out and nods to the guest room, which he already made up for him.

You help him to the room while Jongseong helps himself to shower, where puddles of water remain on the floor.

Apparently you and Sunghoon both share the trait of not using a towel to step on after a shower. Which is only more of a reason to like him.

Jongseong likes taking care of people.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When Sunghoon wakes up the next morning, sunlight blaring through closed blinds, his half asleep brain realizes very quickly where he is.

He’s embarrassed again, but the content feeling in his chest replaces the heavy one he had been holding about the entire situation. He had fun. He liked it. No, he loved it. So much so that for the first time in his life, he’s needed to pass the fuck out immediately after.

And it’s not long after he wakes up, lying there in thought, that he hears a soft knock at the door.

You’re poking your head in, blinking over at him and admiring his sleep hair. Which isn’t too different compared to his sex hair, and you smile.

“Good morning,” You say, stepping into the room and revealing Jongseong close behind you. “Wanna go again?”

Sunghoon stares at you, and then at Jongseong and his smirk. You’re both fucking insane.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

pls reblog my works ;o; if you do? i love u. if u dont? whyyyyy not?

#enhypen smut #park jongseong smut #sunghoon smut #jay smut

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kathrahender · 8 months ago

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"You want to make everything LGBT" "They are married and with children" "They're enemies/rivals, wth?" "They don't see each other like that" "They are just friends" "They are like brothers/sisters" "They are in love with another person" "X character is straight" "Why can't two girls/two boys be friends?"

Those are only a few examples of comments people has done about shipping two girls/two boys together. And I'm so tired of reading again and again and again the same things. I'm not gonna lie, I tried to hold back my anger towards this topic, but I need to talk about this to feel better.

First, about the "You want to make everything LGBT". No, no. That's not true. We don't want to make everything LGBT. You are the one who wants to make everything straight. In every single show/movie I've watched there is at least one straight couple (most of the times there is more than one). And you know how many LGBT ships are in the same show? Yes? Exactly. Zero. One or two if the show is good enough to be inclusive. So please, stop with the "You want to make everything LGBT" argument because it's stupid and it makes no sense.

Secondly, about the "They are married and with children". So? What does that mean to you? Why does that matter? Last time I checked, divorce existed. And there are straight couples that divorced in real life, so I don't see a problem if the straight couples divorces in the show/movie. Is it a big deal in reality? No. Or you just don't like the "breaking up because falling in love with someone of the same sex" thing? Huh?

In third place, the "They're enemies/rivals". Ever heard about the enemies/rivals to lovers trope? And about the redemption/corruption arc? Because those are ways a ship like that can happen. And last time I checked, people don't care about the "enemy/rival" thing if the ship is straight. No one cared about the "enemies to lovers" in books like Shadow and Bone, Folk of the Air, Shatter Me or others. So that only matters if the ship is LGBT or what?

"They don't see each other like that". Well. You always saw your lover as your lover? Or first it was your rival, your friend, or someone who wasn't even in your inner circle? You saw them and you inmediatly became lovers or what? Because two characters can be rivals, friends, or people who don't know each other at first and then learn to love each other. Just. Exactly. Like. A. Straight. Couple. So, again, this is a dumb argument.

"They are just friends". Just like I said in the previous point, a boy/boy or girl/girl friendship can turn into love just like a boy/girl friendship can.

"They are like brothers/sisters". Let me ask you a question. They canonically said "I see you as a sister/as a brother"? Because if they didn't, you're just asuming things. You're just assuming they see each other as sisters/brothers because you don't bear them seeing each other romantically.

"They are in love with another person". Agaaaain. Were you always in love with one person? Did you marry the first person you loved or what? Or you liked/loved people until you found the person you actually wanted to be by your side forever? And just as you can fall in love with someone, you can stop loving them. So once again, this argument makes no sense.

"X character is straight". Well. I myself thought I was straight. My best female friend thought she was straight herself. My two best male friends thought they were straight themselves. And I ended up being pansexual, my best female friend turned out to be bisexual, and my two best male friends turned out to be bisexual/gay. Being married to a woman being a man or being married to a man being a woman doesn't mean they're straight. They could realize they are not straight but bisexual. Or pansexual. Or ace. Or whatever you want. But it's not something that cannot change. It's not something written in stone.

"Why can't two girls/two boys be friends?". And why a girl and a boy can't be just friends? Because almost every show has a main straight canon couple. Westallen, Olicity (The Flash, Arrow), Charles/Moira, Peter/MJ (Marvel), Darklina (Shadow and Bone), Stydia, Scallison (Teen Wolf), Deckerstar (Lucifer TV), Hinny (Harry Potter), Mileven (Stranger Things), Anidala, Obitine (Star Wars), Leorai, Apriltello (TMNT 2012)... And I could continue. And it is always the main couple. The main couple is always a girl and a boy. So I don't understand why can't you see that the ones that can't be just friends aren't two boys or two girls. The ones that always have to be romantically involved are a boy and a girl.

If you read this to the end, thank you. I hope you think the same as me. And if you don't, read it again and see some of the shows I mentioned. And please, think about what I said instead of being a close-minded person.

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mylittleredgirl · 4 months ago

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buckle up folks, it's deep dive about chakotay hours!

season 2, "initiations"

@isthereintruthnobeauty1968 asked a question about chakotay in this post about the scene above:

for an infamous leader of an anti-federation rebel group he seems to firmly believe in its authority and ideals And to have (at least externally) adjusted to the blended crew seamlessly. what's the deal?

see, i don't think chakotay ever wanted to be a rebel, or even a leader for that matter.

he wanted to be a starfleet officer.

season 2, "tattoo"

chakotay enrolls in the acadamy as a teenager as young as he legally can ("tattoo"). he tells seven ("one small step") that he joined starfleet because of his love of paleontology, and he only turned away from that out of responsibility to the maquis and now to voyager.

[get a snack for this one y'all]

season 6, "one small step"

it doesn't come up often, but whenever chakotay talks about his pre-voyager starfleet career, it's always about first contact or archaeology. in "emanations," he compares their exploration of an alien burial moon to a mission he went on as an ensign, all while demonstrating his anthropology expertise. add that to him nerding out in "blink of an eye," "one small step," the dinosaur episode, and a bunch of other examples, he's a social scientist both by training and by inclination.

in the original star trek, they had an "A&A officer," a specialist in archaeology, anthropology, and ancient civilizations:

tos season 2, "who mourns for adonais?"

we never hear that term again, but that's the role chakotay often fills on voyager, and he's very happy whenever he gets to do it.

now, realistically, i don't know how much time pre-maquis chakotay would have spent in a blue uniform, because those skills would not make him an obvious choice to lead a maquis cell. ro laren sets up his character (unnamed) in tng as a tactical specialist who resigns to join the maquis:

tng season 7, "preemptive strike"

(which is a very polite and noble way to do it, as compared to eddington's defection in ds9.)

if he was in fact ro’s teacher (i think so, despite a stardate conflict in some later dialogue), it seems very in-character to me that chakotay could have started out pursuing a sciences path before showing an aptitude for piloting, strategy, and/or command. given what we know of him, regardless of his own passions or preferences, if a senior officer noticed his skills and encouraged him to change career tracks, he would do it.

teen angst era aside, he respects authority. he argues against dogmatic ideology when it's inflexible to the needs of the moment, but he likes working within a command hierarchy, and for better or worse, he is easily swayed by charismatic leaders.

season 1, "caretaker"

not only does he yield to janeway's authority on voyager before she even asks him to, and then molds himself into the kind of first officer he thinks will help her most, he does the same thing with annorax in "year of hell." tom is the voice of ethical conscience and reason in that episode, and he organizes the rebellion—against chakotay's orders!

there's so much going on here:

season 4, "year of hell part 2"

despite his father's perceptions of him as a contrarian, chakotay only rebels as a last resort. he would genuinely rather not. he clearly talked about the maquis cause with ro and others before he left—and i bet that's why he resigned to a starfleet admiral in person, to make one last appeal. his preference is to try and change systems from within.

not to west wing about it, but chakotay is only The Guy when he has to be—he wants to be the guy the guy counts on.

(hot take: with how he rationalizes the calculated sacrifices annorax is making in "year of hell," i don't think chakotay would have left starfleet for the maquis if it wasn't personal. but it was personal, so here we are!)

maquis chakotay is a disillusioned idealist, but he's never that disillusioned. he believes in the stated ideals of the federation, sometimes more than janeway does.

season 3, "scorpion part 1"

and it's a fundamental character trait that he looks for the best in people and situations, often to his own detriment (tuvok, seska, annorax, that time janeway and tuvok and tom all lie to him for half a season, the list goes on).

and it's easy to see good in starfleet, especially when most of his career was during the height of federation utopia before "the best of both worlds," at which point starfleet remembered it's also a defensive force and started building the defiant—which was the very first starfleet ship ever designed solely for combat.

the cardassian situation in tng is shown as an aberration in a largely peaceful era. the off-screen "border wars" were fought by officers who expected to go their entire careers never firing a phaser.

tng season 4, "the wounded"

for decades since making peace with the klingons, and with the romulans keeping to themselves, starfleet has been mostly goodhearted nerds who are committed to exploring and making friends. even if chakotay was a tactical officer, that was the starfleet he signed up for and served.

and, in fact, the reason why the federation abandoned the colonists in the dmz in the first place and wouldn’t help bajor during the cardassian occupation is because the federation and starfleet are devoted to the ideals of peace and noninterference to a fault.

tng season 5, "ensign ro"

chakotay doesn't object to starfleet's actions, but its inaction.

which, side note, is why janeway's choice in "caretaker" makes it easy for him to rally behind her. by choosing to protect the ocampa, even though it's a huge sacrifice and puts her in a prime directive gray area, janeway specifically addressed the exact trust gap he has with starfleet.

season 1, "caretaker"

that's what he wanted them to do back home!

chakotay defends his starfleet uniform in the kazon scene that inspired this whole essay, and he believes what he's saying, because he's right: that's not what a starfleet uniform represents, either in theory or in practice. especially in the mid-24th century, regardless of the political issues, the federation and starfleet do not conquer planets or enslave alien cultures by force.

(of course, they wouldn't have helped the kazon free themselves either, but that's not the question on the table.)

to op's main question: it's an interesting (or boring?) doylist choice to make chakotay such a platonic ideal of a Starfleet Officer™️ (which, for the record, has always included going off-leash at the expense of one's career whenever ethics overwhelm regulations).

season 1, "prime factors"

star trek went to a lot of trouble to create the maquis for the voyager premise of two crews... and then quickly brady-bunch'd them into one happy family and let deep space nine wrangle the maquis problem instead. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

chakotay being so willing to put himself and his crew into starfleet uniforms (even though some members of both crews objected to it) cheated us out of some potentially rich drama, but it does hold water with what we see of him as a character on screen, and his relationship with starfleet. it has disappointed him, but he still believes that it's a force for good, and chakotay will always err on the side of seeing the good in something and thinking he can change it for the better from within.

tl;dr: chakotay is a starfleet officer by training and at heart, who was temporarily out of uniform because his family and tribe happened to be directly in the middle of starfleet's messiest ethical quagmire.

he made a personal, moral decision to join the maquis, not because he was anti-federation, but because that was the only way to protect federation civilians—which was part of his starfleet oath to begin with. he worked hard when he was younger to earn this uniform and i think, in spite of everything, he feels honestly proud to get to wear it again.

#heyyyy guess who spent all day on this #chakotay #star trek voyager #star trek thoughts #star trek #deep dives

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girlygguk · 5 months ago

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STRAWBERRIES & CREAM | JJK

banner by the gorgeous @runariya <3

1/3 teaser for my pick the fic! poll 📊 starting off with the current lead, strawberries & cream...

[pairing] wealthy law student jk x aspiring actress & struggling waitress reader

[teaser content] sfw, 1.1k words, 21 jk | 21 yn, some internal monologue cursing, wrongful workplace treatment (yes, yet another one of my oc's has a shitty boss 😭), a group of rude fucks won’t leave the diner, oc just wants to buss her damn tables and skedaddle, jk is Whipped and oc is Worried.

📍 Seoulful Delight a rundown diner on a somewhat quiet corner of the city.

You were closing alone again.

The night cook had called in sick, leaving you to handle everything yourself. At first, you figured it wouldn’t be a big deal.

It was a slow Monday, after all, and most of the regulars were already gone — the elderly folks who came for their nightly decaf and pie, the high school kids who hung around after school. But then, a group of rowdy guys strolled in, loud and obnoxious, ordering a ridiculous amount of food while making sure to throw in comments about the wait time despite it being painfully obvious you were the only one working.

And now, with their empty plates stacked high on the table and the lights of the diner dimming, they refused to leave no matter how many times you told them the place was closed.

You weren’t that stupid. Their sleazy smirks, the way they eyed you up and down, it was all warning enough not to push any further. And you didn’t.

The last time you had called the police on a group of guys a little worse than this, one of them ended up being the son of the officer on duty, and knowing your luck, one of these jerks would probably end up being the brother.

Your manager, Ahn Chang-min, was livid about the callout fee charged for what was deemed a false report, and he’d been deducting the cost from your paycheck bit by bit. You knew it was wrong — probably unconstitutional too, if you were using that word correctly — but you didn’t have the energy, support, nor the funds to fight it.

So instead of making a scene, you sighed, pursing your lips as you slipped behind the counter and texted Chang-min for advice. Unsurprisingly, your messages were left on read, and the group of dickheads showed no signs of leaving.

Your tired eyes scanned the diner. You had cleaned almost everything, except for their table and one booth in the back.

Jungkook’s booth.

He had become somewhat of a regular over the past few months. Always showing up an hour or two before closing, still dressed in his perfectly tailored suits, his hair tousled like he’d been running his fingers through it all day.

You knew he was a law student — or maybe a graduate, possibly even a lawyer by now. You weren’t sure of his exact age, but you’d often seen him with his nose buried in thick law books late at night. 'Civil Procedure' was the title you recognized the most.

Despite how late he came in, Jungkook always ordered two servings of food, devouring it like he hadn't eaten all day. He seemed to have a thing for the all-day breakfast menu — extra crispy bacon, double helpings of fried eggs, sometimes toast, sometimes pancakes.

When he couldn’t decide between dishes, he’d ask you to pick for him. Last week, you’d chosen the grilled steak sandwich, your personal favorite, which you’d prepared yourself since the cook was on break.

You’d learned to make everything on the menu by now, given how often the night cooks either called in or left early. Some recipes you’d been taught; others, you just winged it. So far, no one had complained about the quality. Though, most of the customers who came to this shitty little diner were either too drunk to notice or too polite to say anything.

Nevertheless, Jungkook had ordered two of that same sandwich every visit since.

You wondered how he managed his schedule. How he stayed so fit with all the food he consumed. He never came in before 10pm, and you found yourself hoping that his days didn’t start too early. That wouldn’t be healthy.

But then again, working almost back-to-back doubles and still barely scraping by after rent and utilities wasn’t exactly healthy either. But somehow, you managed. You just hoped his days weren’t as long as yours.

The moment your soft voice carried across the diner, announcing it was closing time, Jungkook snapped out of his trance, glancing at his phone and realizing how late it was. He began packing up, but his hands stilled when he overheard a group of guys’ crude remarks from the center table of the diner. They weren’t just refusing to leave — they were making inappropriate comments, and the way they talked to you made his grip tighten around his book.

He set it back on the table, his jaw clenching as he watched you back away from them, obviously trying to avoid escalating the situation. You looked like you were about to head toward his booth, maybe tell him it was time to leave as well. But after a moment of hesitation, you turned and disappeared into the kitchen instead, your shoulders slumped in defeat.

Jungkook’s heart clenched.

He hoped you didn’t think he was anything like those assholes. He could never treat you that way. Never refuse you anything. After all, you made the best steak sandwich he’d ever had.

He doesn’t know if it was because he really liked steak, or if it was because he knew you were the one to prepare it for him that made it taste so good. Either way, it was perfect. Sweet. Just like you and just like everything you did.

The way you filled his coffee cup all the way to the top even though the lines on the mug told you to stop three-quarters up. The way you’d add a fried egg to his steak sandwich without charging extra. The care you put into everything for him, even when you were exhausted.

Jungkook always made sure to tip you directly. He never left the money on the table where your grimy little coworkers could pocket it while you were clearing another booth. He’d even downplay the amount when signing the bill because he knew your shitty boss was the type to skim what he could off the top.

Every time without fail, you’d frown at him, shake your head, tell him to stop doing that. But Jungkook never listened. Eventually you’d relent, let him slip the cash into your apron pocket, and the soft, sweet smile you gave him afterward always made it worth every penny.

He looked forward to that moment every night — to the smell of your berry-scented lotion mixed with your perfume when you leaned down to thank him and clear away his plates. He spent a lot of time wondering what kind of berry it was. Raspberry? Strawberry? Boysenberry? He wished he could ask. Maybe he’d buy some for himself just to have something that reminded him of you.

Not that he needed a physical memento.

You were already stuck in his head. All day, every day, for the past three months.

ermmm... yea i may have downplayed just how whipped jk actually is... forgive me 🙇‍♀️

he is a grump tho, TRUST ME...

but just to like everrrryoneeee but her 😭

lemme know what u think?! love you x

join the taglist

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fandom · 1 year ago

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Top 23 of 2023

Have you been aching to get your hot little hands on 52 weeks of data around original posts, likes, reblogs, and searches, all weighted and ranked and tied up into categories with a nice little bow on top? Well, today’s your day! It should come as no surprise that Artists on Tumblr reign supreme: from stunning traditional art, jaw-dropping digital art, fanart, sculptures, textile art—you name it, basically—this year’s list shows that Tumblr truly is the home for art and artists. Thank you, Artists on Tumblr, for enriching our dashboards day after day.

Rounding out the top three, we have two iconic shows: Good Omens is live-action, and The Owl House is animated, but both have a heck of a love story at their core. The second season of Good Omens blessed us with not one but two ineffably exquisite ships, while the final season of The Owl House broke and then healed fans’ hearts in equal measure. Thanks, @danaterrace! Actually, come to think of it, the Good Omens finale kinda did the same in reverse. Thanks to you, too, @neil-gaiman! We can’t wait for season 3.

Speaking of heartbreak and healing, Our Flag Means Death’s second season offered both in droves. The entire cast gave stellar performances, and fans couldn’t have been happier to see the kinds of representation the show displayed. Last year’s #1 topic, Stranger Things, may have dropped a bit, but trust us, you wouldn’t know it from the amount of meta, fanart, and fics in the tag. And did you hear about the live-action adaptations of both The Last of Us and One Piece? They were a preeeetty big deal this year, too. Check ‘em out if you haven’t yet (lol, of course you have). And we’d be remiss not to mention the hugely dedicated fans, fanartists, and fic writers devoting their time to all things Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Y’all deserve a little pizza, as a treat.

2023 was also a year for blockbuster movies, which of course hasn’t escaped anybody’s notice here on Tumblr. Barbie smashed box offices worldwide and left us reeling with every re-watch. How can one describe Greta Gerwig’s pink-filled opus? It certainly is one of the movies of all time. Meanwhile, with its incredible animation and soundtrack, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse introduced us to a whole new multiverse of Spider-People, opening the portal to a veritable flood of incredible OCs. And then, of course, we got a fresh perspective on an old classic when cinephiles introduced Martin Scorscese’s cinematic masterpiece, Goncharov (1973), to a new generation of film aficionados who resoundingly agree that it is, in fact, the greatest mafia movie ever made. We’re so glad this underrated film finally got the acclaim it has long deserved.

In the realms of gaming and tech, the long-anticipated Baldur’s Gate 3 has basically become everyone’s new favorite D&D/dating sim combination. Of course, the Pokémon franchise, games, shows, and Hatsune Miku collabs remain perennial favorites. Elon Musk’s purchase of Twitter, sorry, we mean of course X, made waves across the internet. Similarly, the Reddit blackout drove Redditors to new venues, and Tumblr users welcomed the folks from r/196 with open arms—we’re huge fans of your memes, y’all, and you fit right in. Welcome, we’re glad you enjoy the chaos. Here’s a fun fact: if we included post metadata in Year in Review rankings, #polls, introduced in January of 2023, would have been the #5 topic on Tumblr this year. Phenomenal.

And, oh right. Taylor Swift had kind of a big year, what with the albums, the epic global tour, and the movie and stuff. Fantastic work, @taylorswift, the Swifties on Tumblr thank you for everything.

This is Tumblr’s Year in Review.

Artists on Tumblr

Good Omens

The Owl House

Barbie

Pokémon

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

Critical Role

Goncharov

Taylor Swift

Genshin Impact

Stranger Things

The Last of Us

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Elon Musk

196

Star Wars

Our Flag Means Death

Crowley | Good Omens

LGBTQ

Cottagecore

Baldur's Gate 3

One Piece

Aziraphale | Good Omens

#year in review #top 23 of 2023 #tumblr2023

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heli-writes · 1 year ago

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A dragon's heart

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: Heavy violence in the last part, throat cutting and gutting of human people, mentions of rape (no visual description!), swearing

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Part 1, Part 2

Series Masterlist

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People don't dare to speak about them out loud. Afraid that it would manifest them. They would only speak about them only in whispers behind closed doors. Fathers would tell their sons that it's better to flee than to fight. Don't play the hero. You can't win a fight against them, no one can. Mothers tell their daughters about the horrors they commit. You'd rather be dead than be captured by them. The women they don't kill after they're done, don't last more than a week. Y/n heard all the stories growing up. Some are more horrifying than others. Y/n has never lived in one place for too long. Her people have always been wanderers, offering their services and wares to the villages they pass through. So, she's come to hear a great deal of stories in her lifetime.

In the past two years, life has been unfortunate for y/n. The wandering folk have always been victims of bandits waiting on the side of the road. They've found ways to defend themselves but bandit activity has risen in the past years due to the barbarians attacking and raiding places all over the kingdom. Like sharks smelling blood, other low-life criminals start to crawl out of their holes, sensing an opportunity to gain some coin and women for themselves. Y/n's group has been attacked quite a few times over the last two years, decimating their numbers bit by bit. Having lost people, coins and wares, the last winter was harsh. Those, who didn't starve to death, died due to the harsh cold or infection that followed soon after. After that winter, there weren't many left of them and the survivors started to question if their way of life was still liveable in the current condition. Eventually, the group dismembered. Not all at once, but one by one. People found other work or opportunities in the villages they passed through. A better prospect of life. Even y/n's elder brother, her only surviving family member, left this spring and enrolled in the military service of the king. He tried to convince her to come with her and settle down in the capital. But y/n can't imagine such a life. Being used to living in the open, in tents and wagons, she developed a distaste for sleeping in houses made of stone. It gives her nightmares. The thought that the house might crumble and its stones burying her alive, scares her to death.

Eventually, y/n ends up alone. Only her, her tent, and a wagon her parents left behind. She tried keeping up the life of a wanderer until her donkey died of old age and she had no coin to buy a new one. Having no opportunity to continue to pull her wagon, she was forced to settle closeby to a small settlement. Here's the thing. Villagers are usually nice to the wandering folk. They're happy to trade with them and the change of pace and stories they bring with them. However, they are not keen on having them in their life permanently. It's nice to have them around for a couple of days, but it's also good when they move on. Then there are the prejudices. Often people put y/n's kind into the same box as other people without a permanent residence like bandits, homeless people, or moving brothels. So, people weren't too happy when y/n put up her tent close to the village entrance.

You see, most people don't treat y/n unkindly as long as she keeps her distance and has the proper coin when she needs to buy something. They even trust her enough to buy her wares but they're not very inclusive. So y/n does not really find any friends or social connections and she is aware of the demeaning glances and sneers people give her when they think she's not looking. She's trying to save up coins for a new donkey and hopes to find her brother. Maybe convincing him to leave the military. Or at least to find a more inviting place than where she is now.

Today's the celebration of the long day. It's the longest day of the year and the people celebrate the daylight for blessing their fields and fruits. There's a festival in the village with dances, beverages and lots of music. It gives y/n some consolation that the village people are celebrating this day. It's a big festival for her people with different traditions and rituals that are held all day and night. This year y/n tried to do as many of them on her own, but it's just not the same without your family around. So, she's glad she can go into the village and take part in the buzzing celebration. Though 'take part' is probably a bit too much. She probably will buy a cup of fruit wine and watch the hustle and bustle of the villagers. It's not like anybody would want to dance with her. After all, she has no real prospect of marriage around here. Nobody would let their son court and marry a woman like her. Not that y/n is interested in any of the young men she's seen in the village. She finds most of them quite close-minded and not very driven.

Y/n wears a flower crown she's woven today and one of her mother's dresses. It actually might be the one she got married in. She wanders the town square and watches old men toast with full jugs of beer and young couples sneaking around, waiting for the music to start. She gets herself a cup of wine and a sugary piece of cake and settles on the ground next to the bakery stand. Cross-legged, she bites into her cake and takes notice of some middle-aged women looking in her direction and whispering behind raised hands. Y/n shrugs it off as the music starts to play and people start to dance. She watches the commotion and whips her feet to the music. She really would love to dance. At midnight, the villagers dim the lanterns and lit a fire in the middle of the square. Curiously, y/n blends into the mass that gathers around the fire. She bumps into a man her age. She apologizes and gives the man a small smile. The man looks at her in bewilderment and his friend gives her a mean look, pulling the man away from her. Slowly, silence befalls the square and the old storyteller of the village makes his way to the middle of the square, next to the fire. Y/n buzzes with excitement. She loves stories. Before starting his story, the man lets his gaze wander through the people and takes a deep breath.

Far away from here, behind the mountain range we call bear fangs, lays the territory of the dragonblood tribe. These beasts of men managed to tame the greatest monsters known to mankind: the dragons. Over 12 feet high, spewing raging fire, these creatures are nothing more than steel-hard scales and razor-sharp teeth. While normal people, like us, would fear for their lives encountering these monsters, the dragonblood tribe has lived together with them for centuries in what they call harmony. There's no doubt you have to be a special kind of person to survive an encounter with such a monster, let alone live with them. Tall, strong, cunning and unafraid of death. All characteristics the men of the tribe possess. Some say they even mixed their blood with their dragons and gained impenetrable skin and superhuman strength.

A strength that they still use today to bring terror and fear into our lands. However, a few winters ago, a horrible sickness befell the women of the dragonblood tribe. Most of them didn't survive the season. Having lost their women, the dragonblood men lust for female flesh. Flesh that they seek nowadays in our lands.

We've all heard stories. From an aunt or uncle living in other parts of the kingdom, from passing merchants or the wandering folk about them. They do not care for day or night, they attack whenever they feel like it. There's no plan or logic to their attack, just chaos and violence. They burn houses, skin men alive, put children on spikes and do unspeakable, terrible things to our women. We should fear every single one of them but... there's one we should fear the most. Their leader: Bakugou Katsuki. He's the cruelest, strongest, and meanest of them all. He managed to tame the biggest and most dangerous dragon of all kinds: A hellfire dragon. With scales red as blood and fire as hot as a hundred forges, no one can escape this beast. And no one can escape its master either. With an insatiable hunger for coin, gold and women, their leader and his men continue to invade this country and raid its villages and towns. Greedily acquiring riches and kidnapping and taking our women whenever they please. You never know when they strike, but when you see a sliver of burning red in the sky... Take your little siblings, put your old mother on your back and leave farm and home behind, and run as fast as you can. If you're lucky, and cunning yourself, you might just be able to escape the terror of the dragonblood tribe and live another day to tell the story.

As the storyteller finishes his story, the market square lies in eery silence. Nobody dares to even move. Only when the musicians start playing again and the lanterns are lit again, the tension eases and the gathering around the fire dissolves. Y/n gets up from the place she was seated in and rubs her arms. There are goosebumps all over her body. What a creepy story to tell during such delightful festivities, she thinks. She grabs her cup to return it to the vendor. In passing, she hears someone say: "Why on earth would he speak of this? Doesn't he know it's a bad omen to speak it out loud?". She returns her cup and lets her gaze wander over the square once more. Some couples picked up dancing again but it's obvious that the atmosphere has shifted. Y/n notices the man she bumped into earlier watching her from across the square. She gives him a nod and then turns around to leave.

Y/n set up camp not too far away from the village, but far away enough to have some peace and quiet. The wandering folk often set up camp in a forest or closeby a river, living off the land around them. So, y/n has a short walk by foot back to her tent. The moon stays high in the sky, illuminating her surroundings enough for her to comfortably find her way home. Deep in her own thoughts, y/n doesn't notice the dark shadows following her. She's been walking for a while when she finally hears the snickering of male voices behind her. She looks over her shoulder and sees three male silhouettes following her. "Hey, y/n, wait a second!", she hears one of them yell. The voice is familiar. One of the villagers. She stops for a second, a stupid mistake on her part. One of the men jog up to her, the others following closely. "I'm sorry, can I help you with anything?", y/n says calmly. "Actually, there's something huge you could help me with.", the man she bumped into earlier grins. Y/n pretends not to catch on the allusion. "If you need help with something, it's best to work on it tomorrow. Also, we probably should talk to your father first since he handles business in your family.", she states. She hopes the mention of his father will intimidate the guy. "Oh, I think it's best to work on it tonight.", the man answers and his friends snicker behind him. "Sorry, I'm tired. Let's talk about it tomorrow.", y/n tries to advert him once again. "It won't be any work for you at all. You'd just have to lay down. Or stand up, depending on how you like it.", the man says and leans close. "I'd like to go home. Alone.", she tells him and turns to leave. "C'mon don't be like that!", one of his friends grins behind him, as the other one grabs her arm. "You're drunk. You should all go home, too. It's best to sleep it off.", she tells them and pulls on her arm. "Why are you like that? You don't think we're worth your time?", the third one coos. Y/n pulls on her arm again. "I'm sure you're all great and we can talk about everything tomorrow. Right now, however, I'd prefer to go home alone.", she tries again. "Not even for some coin? I heard your kind does everything for a little bit of gold.", the man holding her arms sneers. Not for any gold in the world, y/n would like to say. She knows better than to offend them. It's already a dangerous situation she's in. No need to escalate it further. "C'mon, babe. At least let me feel you up a bit.", the guy says and tries to pull her closer. Y/n decides that she has had enough of this. She balls her fist and swings it right into the man's face. Not expecting the blow, he lets go of her arm and stumbles back. Y/n doesn't waste a second and makes a run for it. Immediately, she leaves the well-known path and darts into the woods. She hopes that the trees give her enough cover to keep out of their sight. She runs in a zigzag, changing her direction multiple times. She hears the man behind her, trying to keep up with her. Unfortunately for her, they are bigger and faster than her and it's hard to shake them off. Eventually, y/n loses them. She climbs up a tree and stays unmoving for a long time. She doesn't hear them anywhere close by and her heart slows down a bit. It's not the first time she had to run away from men with bad intentions. She knows it's not a smart idea to return to her tent immediately. So, she stays up on the tree for most of the night. Her eyes fall close a couple of times but after she almost loses balance one time, she stays awake for the remaining night listening closely into the woods.

Only when the sun starts to rise again and wafts of mist waver over the cold forest ground, y/n climbs down from her spot. Her joints are stiff and she's chilled to the bone. Cautiously, she starts her way back to her tent. Of course, she did not watch where she was going last night and it takes her multiple hours to find her way back. When she arrives at her campsite, chills run down her back. Apparently, these men were not only relentless but also petty. Her entire campsite is destroyed. They absolutely trashed the place and set fire to her tent and wagon. Y/n takes in the sight. She tries to stay calm but her blood is boiling. It's not like she cared much about the possessions. The wandering folk always packed lightly and only what they could carry. It's the disrespect for her. Also, the little things that she did own were necessities. It's still early in the morning, so y/n decides to salvage what she can and take her leave. She knows men like this. When they don't get what they want, they don't rest until they absolutely destroy everything.

Unfortunately for y/n, the devil works fast and these men work faster. She just started piling up things that were still usable when she hears clamoring just a mile away. "Let's go! She must be back by now! No way she leaves her witchcraft stuff behind!", she hears a man yell. Y/n debates for a few seconds whether or not to stand her ground but decides it's better to avoid confrontation. She quickly grabs a small bag and retreats to the forest. However, she doesn't make it far. Only a few meters into the woods, an arrow flies by her head. "There she is! I saw her just beyond the tree line!", she hears a yell behind her. Immediately, y/n breaks into a sprint. She tries to lose them by zigzagging again but the broad daylight makes it easier for them to spot her. Being used to walking all day, y/n has quite the stamina and hopes to tire them out. However, she didn't sleep all night and the men seemed to have prepared for a longer hunt. 'Hunt' is the appropriate term here. They keep shooting arrows at her and seem to track her trails.

The forest no longer looks familiar to y/n as she keeps pushing on. Her heart feels as if it's about to explode. In a bad way. She's sure the men on her tail can hear her heavy breathing from a mile away. She's also sure that they start to catch up to her. She can hear them closer and closer behind her. They are whooping and whistling as if they are making fun of her. So sure that they can catch up to her. Suddenly, an arrow flies close to her face again, cutting her ear. She can feel blood dripping down the side of her face. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! You can't hide forever, you little bitch!", she hears one of them call out behind her. She gathers all her strength and pushes her legs to run even faster than before. Panic sets in and she hears an arrow hit the ground behind her. Trying to look back in order to estimate how far they are behind her, she stumbles over the roots of a tree and falls to the ground. "Over there!", a voice yells closely behind her. She gets up as quickly as she can and a piercing pain jolts through her. She must've torn or broken something in her joint as she fell. She limbs on trying to use the trees for cover. Another arrow hits the bark of the tree right next to her. She pushes herself off the tree, trying to bring more distance between herself and the men hunting her. Suddenly she loses her footing and finds herself sliding down a slope. Thorny bushes cut her legs, arms and face. The impact leaves a ringing tone in her ears. Her entire body hurts now. For a moment, she's tempted to just lay there and accept her fate. But when she hears the howling men above her, she fights to get back onto her feet again. Her bones feel heavy as she staggers on. She can hear some of the men sliding down the slope as well. Suddenly, she smells smoke in the air. Somebody must be close by!, she thinks. This thought cost her a valuable second and suddenly a pointed force to her right shoulder knocks her down again. Next, she feels a soaring pain from the very same place. When she turns her head to her side, in terror she realizes that an arrow is stuck in her shoulder. She can barely lift her arm now. On her hands and knees, she frantically looks for smoke in the air. Y/n fixes her eyes on the dark clouds of smoke rising into the air just a yard or so from her. It's my only chance, y/n decides. These people might be able to help. They can't be worse than the men that are hunting her. Little did she know, it was quite the opposite. Having found new hope, y/n gets back onto her feet. She starts sprinting again. Ignoring the pain in her foot joint, she pushes her body to the limit. Avoiding arrows out of sheer luck, she manages to avoid getting killed. Finally, she stumbles onto the clearing where the smoke was coming from.

Her eyes fall onto the fireplace first, then at the man sitting next to it. The man only wears dark pants and a pair of boots. He's got blonde spiky hair that stands up in different directions. Necklaces of teeth hand from his neck. All things y/n doesn't register in her panic. That and the giant, red dragon sleeping at the other side of the clearing. The man gets up immediately and grabs a sword that laid across his lap just seconds ago. He looks at y/n angrily, ready to yell or behead her or both. However, he does not get a chance to speak. Y/n's body gives out and she falls onto her knees. "I'm begging you!", she yells out, tears streaming down her face. "Please help me! If you have just an inch of good in you, please find the mercy to help me! They are going to kill me!", she continues to yell. The man looks at her in bewilderment. Nearby, the village men yell in her direction. In horror, she pushes herself up once more and stumbles in the direction of the strange man in front of her. She falls straight into his chest, clinging onto his arm. For a moment, the man looks as if he wants to push her back to the ground again but he doesn't get a chance to do so. One of the men hunting y/n stumbles onto the clearing with a knife in his hand. "There you are, you little slut!", he yells. In fear, y/n clings to the man in front of her. Suddenly, the stranger grabs her right arm. Pain shots from the arrow wound into her fingertips. She looks up and sees the stranger look at the wound with narrowed eyes. Another villager reaches the clearing. This one carries a bow and arrow. The stranger quickly makes the connection between the arrow stuck in y/n's shoulder and the arrow in the man's hand.

The stranger yells something non-understandable and pushes y/n to the side who falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The impact sends more pain through y/n body. "Who the fuck are you? That one belongs to us, find your own toy to play with!" the knife man says and raises his weapon. The stranger exclaims something loud and angry. Again y/n can't understand him. He must speak a different language than her. Suddenly a rumble pierces the air. Y/n's head whips around and the dragon rises to his feet. Y/n's mouth hangs open in disbelief. The man with the arrow yelps in surprise and lets go of his arrow sending it flying in an arbitrary direction. The stranger in front of her doesn't waste a second and uses the distraction to cut the knife guy's throat in a swift movement. In horror, y/n watches as blood gushes out of the horizontal wound and the man chokes on his own body fluids. The man with the bow stumbles backward onto his butt. His eyes are still fixated on the dragon to his right. The stranger harshly steps onto the man's foot. The disgusting sound of breaking bones rings through the air. The man yells in pain and throws his head back. The stranger grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head forward. Angrily, he yells at the villager and when the man only groans in pain, the stranger sticks his sword into his side. The villager lets out a bone-chilling scream. When the villager continues to not answer him, the stranger starts twisting his sword in the wound. The villager throws up on himself and his eyes roll into the back of his head. Y/n can't advert her eyes. She doesn't really comprehend what's happening in front of her. When more yelling is heard at the edge of the clearing, the stranger pulls his sword diagonally through the man's abdomen, creating a wound that makes squishy red things fall out of the man's body. Y/n feels like throwing up. The stranger drops the twitching man and makes its way to the edge of the clearing. What happens next is not registered by y/n who can't help but stare at the gutted man in front of her who keeps twitching until the light has left his eyes. She doesn't hear the screams of terror and death from the other side of the clearing. She doesn't even see the giant beast watching her every move.

Only when the stranger returns with blood dripping down his sword and chest, y/n's consciousness finds its way back into her body. The stranger looks as angry as he has since she entered his clearing. He sounds angry too. He's saying something to her. Looking at it backward, y/n is sure that she wouldn't have been able to understand him even if he spoke her language at this very moment. Only when he stomps closer to her with a raised sword, y/n springs to action and pushes herself backward with one leg, still sitting on the ground. This is it, she thinks, I'm going to die. The man grabs her uninjured shoulder and shakes her. She stares up at him with wide eyes. Suddenly, her vision starts spinning and her hearing starts to fade. Before she understands what is happening, her world fades to black.

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[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

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s-4pphics · 1 month ago

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cw; fratadjacent!ellie, mentions of prescription drugs and dealing, literally just for ‘23 tlou tumblr nostalgia

attempt 747388282 of getting outta my block. barely edited bc i havent slept

How the hell do you introduce yourself to a dealer?

Initiating convos with a stranger with a hey, do you sell addies, seems a little rude for regular common folk, but do dealers actually care about introduction etiquette? Highly doubtful, but you despise assuming shit about people, much due to the fact that your brain has a deadly latching tendency, remembering everything it shouldn’t and forgetting everything you should remember.

Dealers are driven by the dollar, aren’t they? Just like everyone else. Show the money, get the candy… or something? You doubt Mel would put you in harm's way.

You came to your roommate in the middle of a breakdown: self-soothed through a panic attack with snot dripping down your nose and thoughts scattered like they always are. Always. Your brain never listens to reason and it’s torture. She held you while you cried and cursed the medical industry, all while your brain shattered to pieces, attempting to find solace in Mel’s softened whisper.

I have this friend…

And of course, your brain never forgets. Your prescription is forever to blame for your shortcomings. Every unfinished essay, failed test, failed class — mindless scrolling — it’s all due to your lack of… candy. Brain candy. It’s fucked up how terribly you need it to get through school. If you don’t pop one at six in the morning everyday, every plan you make goes down the drain and into the sewers.

Pharmacies are supposed to always have their shit together. Customers come in, grab their beans, and they dip for a month before doing it all over again. Visits are dandy until they aren’t, apparently. Out of all people, why did they have to fuck up yours? A year of going to the same location with the same pharmacist and they suddenly misplace the only jewels that keep your head on your neck.

Sure, you could sue or commit arson to that entire building, but you decided spending the last bit of your free time bribing the go-to drug lord of campus would be much more beneficial. And less… endangering.

Mel is close with drug dealers — a surprising fact to discover about your soft-toned friend. Ellie Williams is one of them, and she’s expecting your arrival, according to Mel. The texts between you and this faceless stranger were brief, aloof — quite business-like despite the topic of conversation. You only hear about her from the sidelines or your roommate, and everyone seems to have a consensus opinion.

Evidently, she fucking sucks. And fucks. Literally and figuratively. Good for her? You don’t give a shit. She agreed to give you a month's supply of Dextro for fifteen bucks. Fuck the gossip and the pharmacy.

That gets you knocking. It takes fourteen seconds for the door to open, and you're instantly hit with the wall of Mary. Jane, in particular, and she’s covered in red lights.

The testy drug head doesn’t fit everybody’s description; her face is almost too sweet for her body. She’s literally wearing Spiderman PJs. What kinda dealer has freckles and rosy cheeks? Her eyes remind you of a deer’s despite the pink tint. Can deers even get high?

One of the first things Ellie does is take in your Patrick Star slippers. Her grin is slight as she eyes them.

“Huh.”

“… Hey.”

“Hello.”

You hate silence more than anything in the world. It’s so fucking awkward in this hallway.

“Name?”

… Maybe intros are necessary? “Oh. Uh. I’m Mel’s friend. I’m guessing y’all know each other? I’m—“

The a-ha she makes is very innocuous. This is the beast everyone always talks about? “My dex pickup, right?”

You jokingly shrug, “in the flesh.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You… you, too.”

It’s silent again. Being shot in the face would be less painful than standing here.

Soon, but not nearly enough, Ellie digs into her pocket to retrieve a very familiar looking orange bottle. It almost looks like yours minus the white sticker with your name and dosage. Just plain orange. And filled a hefty amount. A little over halfway.

“Uh,” you stumble around in your jean pocket like an idiot. When you come up empty handed, you dig around in your back pocket. Then your other front, then your other back.

Where the fuck is your twenty?

“Uh… um…”

You check your bra and your shoulder bag and your sock, all while Ellie stares at you like you’re a walrus on stilts.

“I’m… I dunno where my…”

“Short?”

Flames burst beneath your cheeks. Too fucking short. If you were in a mafia film, you’d be strung up in front of Ellie’s door as a warning for loose pocketers.

But Ellie’s not in the fucking mafia. She looks like she’s about to laugh. Before you can drown her in apologies, she hands you the clattering jar.

“… Wh—“

“No offense, but… I think you needa fill.”

This has to be a test. Ellie’s going to slice your hand clean off your wrist when you reach for your vice… Your prescription, you mean. Not vice—

“You want ‘em or not?”

Impatient as fuck — very on brand. Just as your palm eagerly closes around the bottle, a shock of electricity pops from Ellie’s hand to yours. She flinches but you don’t. The horrifying screams from the little fuckers in your hand are too distracting.

“Do I owe you?”

She ponders for a second. Eyes you with curiosity. Snickers down at your slippers.

“It’s cool. Just tell me if they work.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Do I really have to explain the hierarchy to you?”

“What do you think?”

Ellie pins you with a playful glare, “I bought from someone new.”

That doesn’t mean shit to you, so why are you attempting to make conversation? “Is that why you stocked me up?”

“Sure.”

“Are they laced?”

She shrugs, “maybe.”

That should induce fear… It never comes. You anticipate focusing too much to care. If you die, you die.

This convo fucking sucks. And now it’s quiet because how the fuck are you supposed to respond to you potentially OD-ing? Your brain’s cranking but, just like every other time, you come up empty handed.

“You can go now.”

You try not to be bothered by her dismissing you. You shouldn’t be bothered by anything — she did you a favor. Ellie must really like your fucking slippers. She’s spoken to Patrick more than you this entire time.

“… Thanks.”

“No sweat. Get home safe.”

Her door closes. Your chest opens. You convince yourself it’s with gratitude, and not at all due to the weird attraction you felt for that drugged-out freakazoid.

#fratadjacent!ellie #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams headcanons #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou #lesbian #ellie williams au #ellie williams x reader

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unsolicited-opinions · 3 months ago

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Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib writes on Twitter about Secretary Blinken's NYT interview:

The "pro-Palestine" movement's role in prolonging the war on Gaza: Though many are angry with Secretary Blinken’s responses during his interview with the New York Times about Gaza, some of the points he shared are absolutely salient and accurate. I have said this time and again and received immense backlash for doing so: Hamas’s war strategy, statements, behavior, and goals regularly shift and oscillate based on international public opinion, the actions of the “pro-Palestine” solidarity movement, and political statements by world governments, leaders, and institutions against Israel’s war. To be clear, I’m not in any capacity saying I endorse the horrendous war that Israel’s been waging on Gaza, killing a large number of civilians (including my family) and failing to achieve strategic and lasting results 15 months later. However, Hamas refused to engage in pragmatic negotiations to end the war it started, pulled back several times from closing a ceasefire/hostage deal, and thought that mass civilian casualties would delegitimize Israel and force it to end the war. Many are uncomfortable with Secretary Blinken’s remarks because he shed light on the reality that “pro-Palestine” rhetoric and pressure on Israel has inevitably or perhaps indirectly resulted in a strengthening of Hamas’s position and the overall worsening of the situation for Palestinians in Gaza. I have said time and again that even if folks wanted to attack and criticize Israeli actions, they should call upon the Islamist group to release hostages and negotiate and off-ramp from the war to implement political transformation. Instead, the “pro-Palestine” and international solidarity movements completely ignored Hamas’s criminality against Palestinians and Israelis alike while failing to promote pragmatic, realistic pathways forward to save the most Palestinian lives and make it clear that Hamas’s actions are unpopular, unsupported, and condemned. Secretary Blinken is right on the money with his remarks. The “pro-Palestine” movements across the world after October 7 bear a significant responsibility for prolonging this war and directly contributing to the massive suffering of Palestinians in the coastal enclave. This dereliction of duty delegitimizes almost the entirety of the premise upon which current “pro-Palestine” activism is built. Take a step back and never, ever speak for, over, or on behalf of the Palestinian people!

Haviv Rettig Gur says he agrees:

I agree with Ahmed. We might assess the war differently, but we assess the future the same. When the dust settles, when the rebuilding begins, the old truths everyone likes to ignore will reassert themselves. We'll be back at square one, with the same problem as before. Israel can't rule the Palestinians for all time, nor can the war ever end as long as Palestinian ideological factions like Hamas consistently undermine every attempt at peace-making. Anyone who doesn't understand how catastrophic Hamas has been to the Palestinian cause is of no use to the Palestinian cause. 90% of Israeli Jews now tell pollsters that the fundamental impulse of the Palestinian national movement is to annihilate them. Imagine for a moment that I personally would like to see Palestinian independence in my lifetime. What am I supposed to do with the reality that that statistic describes? How do I urge my fellow Israelis to once again ante up in a game that they have learned from repeated bitter failure - and from Hamas's own consistent rhetoric - is meant to bring about their destruction? And Hamas did that. It was Hamas (with some help from Arafat) that convinced even most progressive Israelis, through explicit word and endless bloody deeds, that withdrawal or compromise would only bring more bloodshed. As long as Israeli Jews believe that, believe what Hamas tells them, they will remain immune to the moral emotions of foreigners. This is the profound folly at the heart of the pro-Palestinian movement. It wants to pressure Israelis to withdraw while Hamas tells Israelis that it will come for their kids from any inch of land they abandon. The pro-Palestinian movement has not yet noticed that it and Hamas are sending Israelis opposite messages, making opposite demands, and so canceling each other out in the Israeli psyche. And it is Palestinians, always Palestinians, who are the first and greatest victims of this folly. Even their defenders are mostly just corralling them into that same old trap. If you can't separate the Palestinian cause from Hamas's cause, or, indeed, if you share Hamas's yearning to see us destroyed, then you're no defender of Palestine. You are one of its destroyers.

#Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib #Haviv Rettig Gur #jumblr #israel #antisemitism #palestine #gaza #i/p #“pro-Palestine” movement #antony blinken #free gaza from hamas

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ozzgin · 22 days ago

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Count Orlok x Reader Posting a preview of the idea I've had because I can't muster the motivation to write a full fic for it :') content: gender neutral reader, dubcon, captivity, obsessive behavior

When you were sent to the Orlok Castle, you assumed it would be a quick affair. It was the usual business talk, you'd been told, so you entered the gloomy courtyard with haste and obliviousness. You didn't expect that the great gates would immediately shut behind you, or that you'd be promptly and unceremoniously prevented from leaving.

The count explained to you, with factual nonchalance, that you were promised to him as a consort. By whom, you demanded to know, staring the man down incredulously. You were offered a foreign, unfamiliar name.

"I wouldn't expect you to recognize it," he retorted between heavy breaths. "It's been over a century."

It could very well be longer than that, though he shan't bother with numbers. The important details are in his hand: the clawed fingers clutch onto an old, faded letter, which you pry with increasing alarm. The writing is intricate, and you don't understand the language. Romanian? Old Romanian, perhaps? Narrowing your eyes, you can almost discern some words you've encountered during your stay in this country.

"How does this relate to me?"

"It's all there, isn't it?" he takes a moment to observe your confusion, a sardonic smile creasing his features. "Your ancestor."

He searches his pocket and hands you a second letter, this time in your native language. This is a visibly more recent document, probably translated for your sake. It's a deal, an arrangement, written by a self-proclaimed solomonar. You've heard the old people at the inn talking about it; ancient wizards, initiated priests who've studied the secrets of the world under the Earth's mantle. They bring forth the storms and tame the dragons. Count Orlok himself, it seems, is a fellow solomonar who traded his soul to the devil for everlasting life. This time it was your ancestor proposing a deal in exchange for fiendish powers, promising one of his descendants in return.

You'd find it all to be folk and nonsense if you hadn't witnessed the ghoulish creature's prowess firsthand.

"Why me," you cry out, scouring the paper once more. A descendant, it says, yet nowhere does it mention any kind of particularity beyond bloodline. There must've been some distant cousin who could've taken your place just as fine.

The decaying carcass of a man can only chuckle, taking his seat at the end of the grand table. The answer you're seeking is exceptionally simple: he wanted you. Oh, he's waited years for the right human. Decades upon decades, quietly awaiting his reward in all its splendor, until, at last, you came along. He knew from the moment you were born that you'd be the one at his side.

He taps the wooden surface impatiently, eyeing your neck with greed. He's not a brute, you see, he'll give you the time to accept your fate. Make no mistake, however: you are to be his, and there is no escape from it. No one - and he truly means it - no one shall ever love you to the same depths of fervor and pathos.

#nosferatu #count orlok x reader #nosferatu x reader #vampire x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #monster fucker

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seat-safety-switch · 13 days ago

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Sometimes, people come to me with problems. I try to leave them with fewer problems than they came in with, or at least the same number, but different. Like those take-a-penny-leave-a-penny jars at the convenience store. Before they outlawed pennies, that is. Now it's take-a-unique-cryptographic-hash-take-a-unique-cryptographic-hash, and nobody has time to do all that math. Certainly you can't fix a loose battery cable with a Merkle tree.

For a couple of months now, I've been working a new job. After my latest parole officer burned out and decided he would much rather be trying to revive the last Mmmuffins franchise left in the Canadian wastelands, I got a new one. And she has a lot of crazy ideas, ideas like forcing me to get a job or she'll put me back in jail. This dedication to her job inspired me to seek some meaningful work in public service. I became a social worker.

Now, I know what you're saying, especially if you're a social worker. Becoming one requires a lot of education, training, and oversight from trusted people. However, my province barely requires a drivers' license. It's exactly the one you think it is. Soon, I was helping folks deal with their most complex familial struggles. One client was a stressed-out single mom, who brought to me her young son. He liked to take things apart, she complained. Once, she found a disassembled flashlight and several stolen screwdrivers under his bed. This, she felt, was not a normal thing for a small child to do.

I had just the cure. That's how I got my transmission swapped in the Dart. All I needed to do was show this little ankle-biter how to work the transmission jack and he tore right into that A727. He already knew the other critical technique of "lefty loosey, righty tighty," which is impressive for his age. After that, I put my feet up, and had a couple beers while he had fun taking apart and putting back together the biggest box of toys that he'd ever seen, courtesy of the Plymouth Motor Corporation.

When I gave him back to his mother at the end of the day, he was tired as all hell. In that state, he was certainly not willing to disassemble any televisions, fridge compressors, or dogs in the area. He wouldn't bother with such small game from now on: no, he had been ruined by the concept of pseudo-economical 1970s American shitboxes. His mother was delighted, and slipped me a couple twenties even though you're really not supposed to tip your social worker (and if you do, I prefer gift cards to RockAuto.)

Is there a moral to the story? Yes. It's that children want to work, so we should let them do it. That way they get a nice outlet to discover the real world, and also I don't have to do jack shit. I do wish the little bastard knew how to read, though. It was very annoying having to lean in every so often to set the torque wrench for him.

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lordhadesvt · 1 month ago

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Good evening/morning/afternoon folks~

Here's a dose of more little info bits for the VanillaFusion!AU. This one focusing on Post-episode 8.

Both Blueberry Yogurt and Pure Vanilla suffer from having a sense of 'split' personas. Shadow Milk and Truthless Recluse still 'Exist' as Dark Sides to the two cookies. This is due to the fact that where Truth exists, so must Deceit. This is what allows them to also still become Blueberry Parfait.

Their 'Motes of Darkness' as they lovingly call them, are often contempt with remaining in their shared Mindspace and Soul in peace. But can be coaxed out with extremely strong, negative emotions.

As such, if either take control, expect havoc. As even while 'redeemed' Shadow Milk will not hesitate to go back to his old tricks if someone gets on his bad side. All 'purifying' did, was revitalize the last vestiges of his old self/sanity to be able to take the wheel once again.

Truthless Recluse is equally as vicious as Shadow Milk Cookie. And there's a high risk of both choosing to fuse into Blueberry Parfait if both are out at the same time. (A higher chance if there's some cookie or some threat that is greatly annoying them to deal with it quickly.)

Pure Vanilla has vowed to always be there incase Shadow Milk/Blueberry Yogurt shows signs of regression.

As such, Pure Vanilla has ensured that they work on mastering the Other-Realm they now share with Blueberry Yogurt/Shadow Milk to ensure darkness does not over take it again.

(Referencing the image above) If they find themselves slipping, Blueberry Yogurt/Shadow Milk will retreat into the Other-Realm, where Pure Vanilla will find and comfort them. Often by taking a much larger form to do so.

(Side fact) Truthless Recluse hates waking up early, and this shows through into Pure Vanilla after Episode 8. As he will often become bitter, annoyed, or angry if woken too early.

#VanillaFusion!AU #pure vanilla cookie #shadow milk cookie #blueberry yogurt cookie #cookie run kingdom au #shadowvanilla #puremilk

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messenger-of-babel · 5 months ago

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Dillon and Kitty

Summary: You take Dick home to the farm for a breath of fresh air. It's perfect, but there's something weighing on his mind. (Dick Grayson x fem! reader)

Word Count: 3.5K

Notes: A little self indulgent, I'm homesick and got hooked listening to country again so this popped out. I loved writing country reader (but that might be the self indulgence hehe) I might make some others in the same theme. Reader wears a dress and is alluded as female, no other warnings tonight.~ Second to last post of this challenge, I didn't think I'd even get this far. Thank you for your support so far. 🥺🥺

Also for anyone wondering- the title is a reference from Gunsmoke, an old western. I got reminded of it while listening to Toby Keith and in the show Dillon and Ms. Kitty have this 'will-they-won't-they' relationship that tugged at my heart so I put a bit of that ache in there too. 🫣🫣

Enjoy Sweethearts~! xx

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You loved being out of the city. You loved being back in the sky for once, and the fact that you could walk away to a quiet spot in your house and not be bombarded with the sounds of cars and arguments on the city streets. You'd gladly trade your heels for a pair of work boots if you could, give your father another pair of hands on the farm. You could take your coffee under the big oak tree by the back porch that had seen you and your siblings break bones and scrape skin, instead of the cramped fire escape that was covered in rain more often than not.

You might have only gone back for a small holiday, but you couldn’t help the thoughts that wondered just 'what if' you did come back. You know that your mother would fuss over it happily, and your father would grumble but not protest. They had sent you away to have a better chance at life, so that you could go wherever your dream wanted to take you. You weren't sure how dream like Gotham could be, with its bleak skies, crime, and constant bustle. Your friends who still lived out by here laughed at you, but you knew that if you had never left, you never would have made your dream come true.

More accurately, you would have never met the man of your dreams, Dick Grayson.

You had both run into each other at a charity event, something you had gotten to attend through your degree in place of your professor. You felt out of place in the ballroom, filled with the rich and elite. You were no stranger to the upturned noses and lingering stares of city folk when you came in to shop with no time to change, still in your work clothes and with dust covered skin. However, being regarded like you were tracking mud across the polished floors when you were in your finest, was new. You knew these events were a big deal, everyone trying to get a ticket to the famous Bruce Wayne's extravagant gala, to taste the high life for a night.

You would be lying if you said that you hadn't been interested in the concept, the high-class events that seemed to be something out of a fairytale. No one would’ve blamed you for wanting to look inside, except the other party guests it seemed. You weren't dressed in anything racy, renting out a modest dress that matched the jewellery you had. Your roommate had done your makeup for you, and you did your hair yourself. You knew that you cleaned up nice, but it appeared that the country air clung to you still.

Socialising had become a nightmare, with people hesitant to even talk to you. The ones that did wavered in confidence when you said that you were still a student, your professors name doing little to ease their worries. You had no family name to shield you, no massive corporation at your back. You quickly realised that they weren't talking to you, because you couldn't do something for them. Even though you had no intent on working with rich assholes like them, the feeling of being useless quickly crept into the back of your mind. So much so, that you were stuck in that thought until you roughly collided with someone, and felt the barely sipped glass of champagne you cradled spill all the way down the front of your dress.

"I'm so sorry," are the first words that come out of your mouth, hands flying to the other person. You look up, hearing a soft chuckle and the blood drains from your face. Dick Grayson, the first adopted son of tonight’s host. He must recognise the panic on your face, because he laughs quietly and wraps a large palm around the crook of your elbow and pull you to the side. You expect to get scolded, but he takes you to a corner away from prying eyes and pulls out his pocket square.

"Here, use this." he says softly, smile on his lips. You take it after an apprehensive second, beginning to dry the fabric the best you can. "I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, that's completely on me." he says, eyes crinkling with worry. You shake your head in protest, swallowing hard.

"No, no, I wasn't either. Did I get your suit?"

He holds his hands up, "No, no, you're fine. Didn't get a drop on me." he smiles. "So don't worry." his eyes flit back down to the stain creeping across your front. He winces studying the wet patch. "Can I replace the dress for you?" he offers. "Get you a new one as an apology."

You shake your head violently, mind racing. He said is so casually, as if it was loose change to him.

"Oh, no. This isn't even my dress, it's a rental." you wave him off. "I'll just get it dry cleaned, and if that doesn't work, I'll just pay the fee. It's nothing for you to worry about."

His head tilts slightly to the side, strands of ebony hair tickling his forehead.

"You don't own the dress?" he asks, and your shoulders slump. You nod, expecting him to turn up his nose. The wealth in this single room made your head spin, and you watched his face. he was going to shrug you off and take his pocket square back, re-emerge into the sea of glittering people with silk lined pockets.

"It looks like it was made for you."

That makes your eyes widen and your cheeks burn with heat. He lets a pearly grin slip forward, making little lights dance in his eyes mischievously.

"Thank you." you stutter out, hands smoothing down the fabric.

"At least give me your details," he persists. "I'll pay for the dry cleaner and the fee if it comes to that. It was my fault, don't worry."

You smile hesitantly, mind wandering. Was he going to hold this over your head? Make you pay him back with favours that cost you more than you could afford?

"But I do have a favour to ask."

There it was.

He must have sensed the tension in your shoulders and the flicker of fear that ran across your face, because he raised his hands and softened his expression. "Feel free to say no of course."

You make your mouth move, tone hesitant. "What is it?"

"You wear it on our first date."

Your jaw drops open a little wider in shock, and a shit eating grin spreads across his face. You give a single, stunned nod and he beams wider. "Excellent. I'll be in touch. I'd stay longer, but Bruce will be insufferable if I disappear and make him handle all those vultures alone. I hope you can understand." he sends you a sympathetic and sheepish gaze, keeping eye contact with you as he drifts away into the crowd.

Two days later when you went to pick up the dress from the drycleaners, it was gone. You had panicked, calling the store to apologise, but oddly enough they couldn't find the dress in their system anymore. Tired from a long day of chasing, you found a tied package at your apartment door. Unwrapping the paper on your bed, you couldn't help but smile pulling out the dress you wore to the gala, freshly cleaned. Alongside it was a navy jewellery box, carrying a matching necklace. The piece of paper inside was written in a hastily scrawled handwriting, messier than you'd have expected from his pedigree.

I told you the dress was made for you. Call me to make plans.

-Dick

That had started the beginning of your relationship with the man who cheered you on relentlessly while you chased your dream. You called home so often that your mother had fallen in love with him too without even meeting him, while your father grew continually irritated with the way Dick's name became a household one without ever setting foot on the property. So, after a year of dating and having gone to meet his family multiple times (where upon meeting Bruce, you could tell where Dick had adopted many of his mannerisms) he was finally coming to see the place where you had grown up.

The second your car had rolled through the gates and hit park; your younger siblings were running towards you at full pelt. Correction, Lacey, your pocket rocket ten-year-old sister threw herself at Dick for a hug, while your quieter teen brother, Marcus watched from the porch.

"Are you Dickie?" Lacey had all but shouted at him, making him look at you. You stifled giggles behind your hand as he looked down at her, gently pulling her off before crouching. "You must be Lacey?" he asked with the soft smile he reserved for kids. She giggled and grinned at you, beaming.

"He knows my name!" she squeals, before giving you a big hug herself.

You laugh and send her back to your brother who was keeping his distance, sending a shrug to Dick as you go to unload the car. You can hear the fly screen rattle and the voices of your parents, signalling the start of a very active dinner. "Welcome, city boy." you smirk at him, leaning over to give him a peck on the lips. He pulls you close and kisses you back, hand cradling your neck before he parts.

"Good to be here." he smiles.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

The week had flown by and he had settled in well, while your body fell back into your old routine like clockwork. Your father had been sceptical of Dick at the beginning, but Dick had proven himself rather quickly, offering to help out. He wasn't afraid to get dirty, he didn't tear up or complain when he got a scrape or a bruise. Often times it was your mother that would fuss over him when he came into the kitchen sporting a new bump or injury, and he'd look down with surprise like he hadn’t even felt it. He was good with Lacey and even quiet Marcus warmed up to him, spending his afternoons in the stables with Dick showing him how to care for the horses. The horses were the animals Marcus had loved ever since he was a child, and when Marcus let Dick saddle up one of his to take a small ride around the paddock, you knew he was part of your family now.

You couldn’t deny that he looked good in work gear, it was like a weight was off his shoulders. His eyes seemed clearer; soul less burdened. It was only when he came out to meet your family that you realised he his lips naturally curved downwards in Gotham, his eyes blue as the sky but lost in someplace further than the horizon he stared out at. He looked good in denim and with reigns in his hand, gentle with the horse as he caught your gaze and steered her over to you. He was in a spare pair of work boots your quickly growing brother no longer fit, and a sweat broken work hat on his head. You had to stop the tingle in your hand and cheeks catching sight of him like that. When he looked at you, you finally felt like his eyes were looking at you.

"Hey, handsome." you call, pushing off from the paddock fence. "I see you've made a good impression on Marcus."

He grins down at you, dismounting swiftly like he had been riding all his life. "He's a good kid." he smiles, and you kiss his cheek.

"Come on, dinner's almost ready." you say sweetly before turning to your younger brother, still on his horse. "And that goes for you too, mister!" you holler, making Marcus flip you off in the distance.

"Teens." you grumble, making Dick laugh as you head to the stables.

You help Dick unsaddle, making sure the tack is put away properly. You look over at him, frowning softly as you see the expression on his face. It's the same shadow he wears in Gotham, the weight of something invisible constantly pressing down on him. "Hey, you okay?" you call with a kind smile, making him look up quickly. You don't see the phone in his hand that he slips back into his pocket, only the tight grin he sends back to you.

"Yeah, fine."

You walk back to the house in silence, and your mother already has dinner waiting for you. Everyone proceeds as usual, but you can't help looking at Dick seated across from you, with a soft frown on your face. He seems out of it, and when he meets your eyes it's guilty. The tension is thankfully not felt by other members of your family, allowing you to follow him when he slips out.

You find him in your childhood bedroom, where you've both been sleeping. "Hey, you okay?" you ask, leaning against the doorframe. he has his back to you, fiddling with something in his pocket. What he says next steals the breath from your lungs.

"I can't do this."

It's like the rug has fallen out from beneath your feet you and you straighten yourself quickly, closing the door behind you so no one can hear your conversation. "Dick?" you ask, softly, heart racing. "What do you mean?"

He sighs and turns to you, eyes normally so bright now swirling with emotion. "I think...I think we should break up." he says, voice barely pushing the words out.

"You don’t mean that." you shake your head, hand coming to your temple. This has to be a dream. Or a nightmare. "Why? what's wrong?"

"I just...I have something I need to do back in Gotham. I can't...I can't give you the life you want. I don't think we'll work out." he sends you an apologetic smile like your eyes aren't filling with tears, lip wobbling.

"What made you think that?" you ask, trying to hold it together. To not let your emotions control you and push him further away. "Was it...Was it my family? This life?"

"No, no, nothing like that." he says hurriedly. "I just think, god-" he runs a hand through his hair, sucking his teeth. "I just don't think we're compatible."

"And it took you until meeting my family for you to say that, huh?" you say, arms crossed and unable to hide the hurt tone. He winces, wringing his hands.

"I have to go." he says softly.

"Why?" you demand again, voice raising. "God damn it, Grayson, you can't just tell me you want to break up suddenly. That's not fair. Tell me. Tell me if it's something I did. You've been distracted on your phone, just tell me if it's work or another woman-" you cut yourself off when you see him grimace and your breath stops in your throat. You hadn’t been serious when you said that. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

He raises his hands in defence, making you scoff. "Please, listen." he pleads, making your blood rush to your head.

"You've actually been talking to another woman? Are you kidding-"

"It's just Babs, I swear-"

"Barbara Gordon?" your voice shrilly rings at the mentions of his ex. "Oh yes, because texting your ex-girlfriend makes me feel so much better." you spit, holding your hand out. "Be honest for once. S how me." You seethe, and after a hesitant moment he unlocks his phone and places it in your hand with a defeated sigh. You swipe to his messages, heart shattering as you read her contact’s name still with an orange heart beside it.

"There's something I need help with. You need to come home."

You hate reading how readily he replied, running back to his ex the second that she says she needed him. the way she called him home, like he hadn't been with you so naturally you even had the audacity to think that maybe he could find a life here too. A home. Somewhere peaceful, away from the hustle and bustle and having to constantly be on his guard. To be able to steal kisses under the shine of the stars instead of the invasive flash of the paparazzi.

He takes the phone from you, unable to meet your eyes. Dick doesn't feel like he deserves to.

His heart breaks as he walks past you, shoving his things back into the bag he packed. He can feel the hurt radiating off you, making his own heart break. He wants to tell you that he hasn't been talking to Barbara, not that way at least. That he did love you, with every part of him. He loved your family. He loved the gruffness of your dad and the way he'd check in on Dick periodically, grumbling about him being a city kid but still making sure he didn't get too banged up. He loved your mothers cooking and let Lacey play with his hair. He loved Marcus and his passion for his animals. He loved you.

He loved you in finery he bought you and he loved you with dust in your hair and callouses on your hands. He loved you in jewellery and he loved you in chaps, loved you in heels and the dirt caked work boots. That's what he told himself, but if he was breaking your heart this way, he wasn't sure if he was ever truly able to love you.

If he loved you as much as he fooled himself, he wouldn't be leaving with no explanation, wouldn't be breaking your heart at your parents’ house, your safe place. If he loved you, he would tell you that he was Nightwing, and he would never be able to come out to the countryside with you. That he had a duty in Gotham that had him risking his life every night.

He wished he could tell you who he was, and he yearned to. When he looked into those heartbroken eyes of yours, he wanted to take you into his arms and spill his heart out and kiss you stupid. He wanted to tell you everything, about him, his family, about Bruce. But he couldn't, his own lips freezing in fear. His throat bobs as he swallows harshly, looking down in guilt. "Alfred is bringing the car. He'll be here soon." he says softly.

The words he really wants to say is:

Please love me. Please don’t hate me. Please forgive me.

He grabs the last of his things and pushes past you before the burning to comfort you overtakes his logical mind. He knows he has to go back. Indulging himself in you and your sunlight was something that he couldn't afford. He couldn't afford you to get hurt, to get wrapped up in his world. It was a first for him dating a civilian, and he was terrified. That fear built up over in his mind, and he knew it. He knew he should give you a chance, but it was the safer option, the lesser of two evils. He could suffer the pain of losing you, or he could suffer the pain of you finding out who he was and hating him.

His heart shatters as he hears the sob of you, beginning to break down as he leaves.

He passes the faces of your family, curious but silent. He feels their eyes follow him, a brand of shame tracing him and his path out. The cold is biting, nipping at his skin but he doesn't feel it. All he can see in his mind's eye is you undoubtably being comforted by the worried hands of your mother, crying out in heartbreak and not even getting to know why.

By the time that Alfred arrives, he can see the silhouette of your family on the porch, Marcus and your father. He can hear your father yell at him as he gets into the car, but he can't make out the words as he shuts the door and Alfred begins to roll away. He slouches against the door, head in his hands. Alfred looks back, studying him.

"Did you tell her, sir?" Alfred asks softly, the older man's fingers tightening on the steering wheel. Dick had promised that he'd tell you, let you make your own decision before continuing to be involved with him. Alfred liked you and had reassured Dick countlessly that you would likely be nothing but accepting is he did reveal his secret identity. yet as he stares at the slumped man in the rearview mirror, a pang of disappointment shoots through his heart as he pieces together what's happened. Dick tries his best to stop the tears, but they prickly to the forefront anyway.

"No. But there's nothing left to tell her." Dick mumbles defeatedly, staring out the window with dull eyes.

but there was, three little points he never got out of his mouth.

I'm Nightwing.

I'm sorry.

I love you.

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rationalnerd62 · 2 months ago

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Seeing some of the tags I got on the CR timeline post, I think I loved C3 for the exact same reasons some folks disliked it or struggled with it.

I liked the overarching arc. Don't get me wrong, mini-arcs like with VM and M9 are perfectly fine, but there's something narratively satisfying to me about BH following this consistent thread all along the campaign. This group started with a few questions (Who attacked Keyleth? Why? What is the meaning of those dreams? Where are Fearne's parents?) and uncovered a whole conspiracy that then revealed itself to the entire world. It reminds me of reading those Fantasy series where the characters hear about the upcoming battle in book 1 and finally get to it in book 14. I can't wait to rewatch and see the foreshadowing and hints that brought this group to this point.

I liked the constant discussions about the Gods. Listen, as a gay person raised in a Catholic family, boy I've had my dealings and issues with religion. But I find it nice to be able to put our own world aside and watch this fantasy world ask questions that would be very controversial in ours. What we know of the Gods of Exandria has fundamentally changed from the first episode of C3 to the last. We went through both ExU Calamity and Downfall during that time. Those Gods have changed from being so removed and above mortals, mystical entities incomprehensible to anyone who dared trying, to beings with a past before Exandria, a family they're willing to protect at all costs no matter how hurtful their siblings are to the mortals, aliens with flaws and faults and failings, full of nuances and grayness in a world that put half of them in a box of "Good" and the other half in a box of "Evil". And as those Gods have been humanised in front of our eyes, it brought the question of whether their power over mortals is still justified and relevant. And now Exandria is about to change, and I find it exciting. IMO, it gives even more of a reason to keep exploring Exandria in the future of Critical Role than if the status quo was maintained. It's hard to do something new in a world that doesn't evolve with the story.

And while I understand people would have loved more time with Bell's Hells (I would have loved that too!), I also kinda loved how rushed and short in time they've been feeling since they've heard of the solstice. They've had a ticking clock ringing in their ears for a while now. People make different decisions when they don't think they have the time to get some sleep on it. Would have Ashton tried to absorb the shard if the group didn't have to leave for Ruidus the exact next day? Would have Orym taken a sword that maybe shouldn't be his if they didn't have to leave for Aeor the next day? Would have Imogen absorbed Predathos if watching Downfall hadn't made them realise that the Gods will break the Divine Gate to keep the secret of Predathos hidden?

IMO, we still got plenty of very interesting character moments despite the limited amount of time those characters spent together. They've been through some shit together, and the friendships they made through the shared trauma will stick with them for years. Because yes, they are friends (except for Braius, that one is on a tightrope lol). But they've proven over and over again what they're willing to do for their tight crew of broken people.

Boy I am so very fond of them. Saying goodbye will be hard 🥹.

#critical role #bells hells #i just think theyre neat #ashton greymoore #imogen temult #orym of the air ashari

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siravalondulac · 2 months ago

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pour it in a cup | j. snow x reader

summary: after the devastating wars against the white walkers and house lannister, jon is once again king in the north, and as such, is in need of a wife. how lucky, then, that tyrion lannister has a niece.

contents: arranged marriage, unrealistically quick relationship progression, she/her pronouns for reader, one use of y/n, slight non-graphic smut at the end

words: 5814

author's note: based on this request. i've also written a version with my oc here (in case you saw both and were confused, it's the same story)

masterlist | additional works masterlist

Perhaps avoiding any talk about the topic of his missing queen had not been the correct idea. He should have listened to his advisors when they spoke of marriage, of the betrothal offers from the Northern lords, of the suggestion to take a Free Folk woman as wife to unite their people. But he had been too focused on trying to deal with becoming king - again - he had brushed them all off. And this was the punishment.

He stood in the courtyard, his remaining siblings beside him, waiting anxiously for the procession to arrive. The entire castle had gathered to greet the visitors from Casterly Rock, and to catch a glimpse of their new queen.

Horns blasted, and then the first soldiers arrived.

Their red and golden armour had not changed, and neither had the lion on their banners. Fewer men than expected accompanied the party, but all of that was forgotten when you rode in.

Cersei Lannister's oldest child, who had hidden in Casterly Rock for the entire war, staying far removed from the horror the rest of them had to suffer.

You were clad in rich fabrics, a dark red dress with golden embellishments, decorated with soft furs to keep yourself warm in the cold. Yet more peculiarly, you did not travel in a wheelhouse as your mother or any of the southern ladies would have done, but sat aside on a horse, its hide as white as the snow around them.

You would become his wife. You would become his queen

Your uncle, Tyrion Lannister, jumped off his own horse and approached him. They shook hands with a smile, and Jon was glad over the lack of proper manners.

“Your Grace.” Tyrion's voice sounded amused saying the title. “I am grateful for the invitation. And that you have accepted the proposal.”

“The North needs this alliance to heal,” he repeated the words of his council. “Just as the Westerlands.”

“That we do.” He beckoned someone forward. “May I introduce your betrothed? My niece, the Princess Y/N.”

You raised your hand, and he quickly took it to lay a kiss upon your knuckles.

“My princess, I am honoured.”

“As am I, your grace.”

Your words were polite yet cold, and he realised for the first time you might want this marriage even less than him.

He tried to grasp at something to say. “May I lead you to your chambers?”

You nodded, and closed your hand around his arm.

Perhaps he should have stayed, should have greeted the other lords and ladies as well, should have held a speech - whatever was expected of a king. But he wanted time alone with his bride, wanted to spend your first moments together without dozens of eyes watching them. And so he did not feel bad as he led you into the halls of his castle.

“Uh-” He cleared his throat. “You will receive your own chambers until the wedding, in order to get used to everything. Afterwards you will move into the Lord's chambers with me.”

You nodded, and said nothing.

You passed the main hall, where a wooden throne now eternally stood high above the rest.

“It must be strange,” he said, “being back here after all these years.”

You chuckled. “Strange indeed. The last time I was here, my family was still alive. Now there is only my uncle and me, the dwarven king and the forgotten princess.”

Your voice had become biting, accusatory. And he supposed you had a point.

“I apologise.” He did not dare look at you. “These last years must have been difficult.”

“They sent me away and never came for me,” you answered far too quickly. As if you had prepared it. “I am loyal to the Stark crown and will do my duty by it.”

He did not try to initiate another conversation until you had reached your chambers. And even then, the few words he spoke were only to inform you that a servant would be with you shortly. You seemed as if you wanted to tell him something - a thank, a question, a demand to leave you alone until the wedding the coming week - yet closed the door before any such thing could happen.

You tried to forget him. Tried to ignore the reality of the situation whenever the thought passed your mind. Which was nonsense, you knew. But it was easier than facing the fact you would be marrying a total stranger in just a few, short days.

That first night, Winterfell held a feast to welcome you, and to introduce the castle and the entire North to their new queen.

Despite what would be expected of you, and despite knowing you would have to adhere to your betrothed's customs soon, you had decided on a blood red gown for the evening, while a golden tiara decorated your intricately braided hair.

One last desperate attempt to cling to your heritage. To not lose what remained of your family.

King Jon Stark already awaited you at the doors to the feast hall, clad in yet another set of black and brown leathers and a fur-lined cloak, this time, however, with a spiked iron crown on top of his dark curls.

He smiled at you, you smiled back, then you took his extended arm, and entered.

The few spots of red and gold were drowned out in a sea of Northmen, all staring at you. Judging you. None of them wanted a tyrant's daughter as their queen, a foreigner, an enemy. Neither did you, but what else was left for you in this world? You were your uncle's heir, yet only until he sired his own children. And afterwards, you would have nothing.

Best accept this marriage. It was certainly the best you could get.

King Jon held a short speech once they stood in front of their seats, thanking first his lords for joining him for this most wonderful occasion, then your uncle for brokering this much needed alliance between their kingdoms, and lastly you. For agreeing.

You smiled and curtsied, and hastily removed your hand from his arm once you were seated.

The food was agreeable, the ale not too bitter, and the constant chattering and even shouting from the wildlings bearable. You had to get used to all this, you reminded yourself, especially to the presence of the man beside you.

Jon, to his credit, had not tried to strike up a conversation yet, though the glances he threw in your direction burned on your skin. You would have to look at him eventually, you knew as much. Touch him, even. Lay with him. Perhaps speaking to him now might soften that experience later on.

But he was drawn into a conversation with your uncle before you could decide.

Sansa sat on your other side, beside her brother and two others you did not recognise. You grasped at something to say - something easy, and far removed from the terrors your families had inflicted on each other.

“I like your dress,” you said carefully, not daring to fully look into Sansa's face.

It was true, you did like her gown - dark blue and simple, with an intricately embroidered wolf just above her heart.

“Thank you. I made it myself a few years ago. I had too much on my hands to sew a completely new gown simply for this feast.”

“You enjoy making them yourself, I take it?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation going. “The last time I was here, you were so proud of what you made, it was all you could talk about for an entire course.”

“And all you could talk about was King's Landing, and how much I would like it there.”

Perhaps Sansa tried to start an argument, to find any excuse to convince her brother to break off the betrothal. Perhaps she wanted to guilt you into admitting fault for your family's actions. Or perhaps that was simply the only thing she remembered from that evening.

“I am sorry.” You stared at the rings on your fingers. “I should have warned you about Joffrey.”

You had been sent to Casterly Rock not long after the outbreak of the war - for safekeeping, so that the Baratheon crown could live on through you should disaster strike the rest of your family - but you had still witnessed the beginnings of your brother's cruelty towards Sansa.

“You couldn’t have known what he would do.”

“I grew up beside him. I knew him longer and better than most. What he did to you… I could have prevented it.”

“He would have punished you as well, had you tried.”

Jon had joined some of wildings further into the hall, and you could almost understand their words and cheers from your place at the main table, such was the volume they were speaking at. He looked comfortable with them.

“Your brother…” You hesitated. “What is he like?”

Your eyes stayed on him, even when Sansa eventually answered.

“He will not mistreat you, if that is what you fear.”

“No. I mean-” You chuckled half-heartedly. “That is all anyone tells me about him. He is good, he is kind, he is brave. It all sounds rather dull.”

“He was a bastard, then a brother of the Night's Watch. He still thinks he is undeserving of the crown, even though the Northerners have pronounced him their king twice now. He has already fought in more battles than most will in their entire lifetime. Such a thing is known to leave one scarred and withdrawn. Give him time, he will warm up to you eventually.”

Jon joined your side again after a while, with red cheeks and a small grin on his lips. Yet when he noticed your stare, he swallowed, shook his head slightly, and it had disappeared.

You almost wanted to tell him how cute it had looked.

“I am rather tired from the long ride,” you said instead. “Would it be terribly impolite by Northern customs to leave already?”

“No, not at all.” He stood up and offered you his arm. “Let me accompany you to your chambers.”

Conversations died when you passed.

The cold air hit you the moment you stepped out into the quiet of the night, and you could not stop the noticeable shiver running down your back, nor the slight shaking of your arms. You clenched your jaw and prepared yourself for an uncomfortable walk, when a cloak was suddenly laid around your shoulders.

Confused, you looked towards Jon.

“I apologise about the cold. I suppose it will take a while to fully get used to it.”

Then he realised he still had his hands laid on your arms, and he hastily dropped them, taking a step back for good measure.

You pulled the fabric tighter around yourself.

“Thank you, your grace.”

You did not touch each other again on the walk to your rooms, and you did not mind at all. Welcomed it, in fact. You would be forced to endure his hands soon enough, there was no reason to invite them sooner.

You thought about saying something once you reached your door - a thank, a question, an invitation to spend the following day with you. Yet all you did was hand him back his cloak, whisper a quick “Good Night”, and quickly close the door behind you.

Be gentle with her. She has gone through a lot.

Tyrion's words echoed in his mind as he made his way to your chambers.

Your distance at the feast last night had surely been noted, he knew it had. Certain Northern lords - Manderly, Umber - were already looking for any excuse to oppose this marriage, he could not provide them with more reasons. You two would be seen conversing happily, spending time together, kissing if necessary. They would not punish you for his misgivings.

He knocked on your door, waited, and assumed for a moment you would ignore him, when he suddenly heard steps. Slow, careful, yet still. His back straightened on its own, and then you stood before him.

A soft green dress draped your body. Simple, without much embroidery, jewels, frills, or lace. Just a lone necklace hung around your neck.

You looked… beautiful.

“Your Grace.” You quickly pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Is something the matter?”

“No, I-” The light caught in your hair. He cleared his throat. “I was planning to check on the castle, make sure everything is working as intended. Would you like to accompany me?”

Best make you believe you would not put unnecessary burdens on his shoulders by agreeing to this walk, but simply to join what he was already doing.

Still… Even despite his efforts, you seemed ready to decline. Your fingers tightening in your dress, the trembling of your lips, the terror in your eyes-

“Yes.”

You quickly had a cloak slung around your shoulders and your hand around his arm, and so you set off.

Jon knew, of course, that you had only agreed because you were aware of your situation, much like him, and that you needed to play the game in order to survive. Your mother had taught you much.

Your walk through the castle led you past the kitchens, the feast halls, the smithery, the stables, the sept, the glass gardens. He explained everything as well as he could - what lead where, who worked where, whom you should talk to when faced with a problem. All while staring ahead, seldom sending a gaze your way.

You listened, nodded, smiled. You curtsied when encountering ladies and servants alike, picked up a stray flower you found in one of the hallways. And yet you also rarely spoke a word. Just a question here and there, a greeting, a polite agreement. A pretty thing on his arm.

Perhaps you were hiding. Perhaps this was simply who you were.

You walked through a door and outside, ending up on the pathways surrounding the training yard.

Northmen and wildlings sparred side-by-side, laughing and joking despite their thousands of years of animosity. Some had said their blossoming friendship was due to him - the man who had died to bring innocents south of the Wall - but he knew they attributed far too much to him. Facing death itself was enough to unite even the greatest of foes.

“Are they all living at Winterfell?”

He shook his head, then remembered you likely weren't looking at him. “No, they are not. Most of them are lords and their entourages, who will leave after the wedding. The wildlings are visiting as well, they are merely here to strengthen our alliance.”

His eyes wandered towards you for a short moment, to glance at you, see if you might express anything but polite interest. And… yes, perhaps that was indeed a small smile on your lips, and a sparkle in your eyes as you watched the children chase each other with sticks and wooden swords.

“I remember the last time I was here,” you said, lost in thought. “My brothers sparred with yours. Tommen was still far too young, so his fighting was more mindless stumbling in a set of armour that didn't quite fit him.”

“Do you miss your siblings?”

You nodded.

You continued your walk around the castle until you ended up in front of your chamber again.

“Thank you for accompanying me,” he said.

“Thank you for letting me.”

Then the door was shut before him once again.

After an eternity of walking circles in your room, you had grabbed a blanket, a book, and hidden in a secluded spot in the glass gardens. Surrounded by flowers and vines that, if you squinted, reminded you at least a little of your home, you had finally felt at ease.

Walking around the castle the previous day had been gruelling. Everyone had stared, knowingly, judgingly, as if they blamed you for your family's crimes, for the dire state the North had been beaten into. And the worst thing was…

You didn't blame them.

Time passed in the safe space you had crafted for yourself, amidst the moondusts and dragon’s breaths and coldsnaps, lost in the words of your book.

Then steps drew near.

In your haste to jump off the cushioned bench, you threw over a flower pot, sending it tumbling to the ground. The bench almost tipped backwards, and you only narrowly kept it from crashing into the glass behind it.

No one could see you here. This was not your place, not your home, not yours to enjoy. You should have stayed locked away, deep inside the halls of Winterfell, with a dozen guards to line the way. Here there was no one. Just you. Alone.

If one of the lords found you here… You had seen their eyes the previous days, the glances and stares sent your way. Full of hatred. Lust. You knew them all - their meaning, their consequences. They would mean to punish you for what your family had done to them, and perhaps even find a way to stop this alliance and keep the king from wanting you. You needed to get away from here, back to your rooms, far away-

“Princess? Is everything alright?”

Jon stood amongst the plantlife, dressed in another set of black leathers. He looked down at you, concern etched across his face as he watched your hunched over form, kneeling in the dirt.

“Yes. Yes, everything is alright.” You stumbled over your words. “I- I apologise for this mess. I will clean it up right away and then-”

“Let me help you.”

His hands were calm, strong, cold as they brushed yours. He quickly had the flower pot - not broken, thank the gods - back on its pedestal, and helped you brush the dirt together.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

“You would not believe the amount of things I have almost destroyed in this castle.” His chuckle reverberated in your chest, the sound low yet warm and inviting, and something shifted inside you.

“I doubt anyone would have noticed. Winterfell is even more contorted than Casterly Rock.”

And then he laughed, and you wanted to bottle up the sound and keep it locked away close to your heart.

“Maybe you could show it to me one day. After you have gotten used to your new life.”

You knew you should agree with him, tell him he need not be worried, and that you would be the nice and pleasing wife he desired. Yet something about your current position - sitting on the ground so close next to each other, your fingers mere breaths apart, staring into his dark eyes - made you whisper, “I don’t know if I ever will.”

He cocked his head. “Why would you say that?”

“Just look at me. I don’t belong here - I don’t belong anywhere. Your lords know that, and you would be much more suited marrying one of their daughters. Not the child of a foreign tyrant.”

Jon looked at you, eyes fluttering across your face, your body, your dress, seemingly trying to find an answer to the questions mounting in his head. You turned your head away, yet he quickly caught your chin with his fingers, and forced you to meet his gaze again.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

His breath brushed across your cheek, his lips so close to yours you felt the heat radiating off them.

“After our wedding,” you whispered, “I want you to stop lying to me. I get enough of that pity from my uncle.”

And so you quickly stood up, and ran away.

You had stayed hidden in your room since your interaction the previous day. Or perhaps, simply stayed hidden from him.

He was slowly running short on ideas to make you warm up to him. Nothing, it seemed, that he said or did made you more comfortable around him, nothing caused you to open up to him, nothing led to you seeking him out.

Perhaps he should give up. Commit himself to a sad, lonely life, with an emotionless shell of a person beside him, until the cold finally returned to claim him once more. Perhaps it was what he deserved.

He sat up in his bed; slowly, breathing laboured, skin covered in sweat. The chamber was still wrapped in darkness, with only a sliver of the moon’s silver light falling past the drapes. He buried his face in his hands, then quickly stood up, slipped into a tunica and some boots, and disappeared into Winterfell’s deserted hallways.

No one was awake during this time of the night. The most he would ever encounter during his semi-regular walks around his castle was a stray rat, or a cat running after it.

Ghost had joined him at some point, trotting by his side like a white shadow, the fur cold and soft underneath his scarred hand. He was glad for his direwolf, glad for the quiet company, glad to not be alone in the darkness. Then he stepped on one of the walkways overlooking the main courtyard, and almost had his breath knocked out of him.

A soft breeze wafted through your hair, open for the very first time in his presence, the moonlight illuminating the strands and making them appear almost silver. Despite the freezing cold you wore no cloak, just a simple, dark blue dress that hugged your frame.

You looked… ethereal.

Your blue eyes settled onto him, and he nearly stumbled backwards.

“I- I apologise. I will leave-”

“No.” Your gaze settled on the yard beneath you once again. “It’s alright.”

He slowly, carefully walked towards you, yet made sure to stop a good distance away from you, and then followed your gaze into the abandoned courtyard. Usually brimming with life, now dark and empty.

“I apologise about my behaviour yesterday,” you almost said in a whisper. “You were merely trying to be nice towards your betrothed, and I should not have run away.”

“I understand why you did, and do not hold it over your head.” He buried his fingers into the frost-covered banister.

You stood there, in uncomfortable silence afterwards, neither knowing what to say, if to say anything.

“I suppose…” you said, then hesitated. “My mother sent me away and never came for me. Even as my siblings started dying, even after your brother had been killed, even after my uncles had been defeated, she left me at Casterly Rock, never sending a letter, never visiting. Then she crowned herself queen, and the only way I found out was because my uncle turned up after the war to tell me. And to tell me she had died, and that the Seven Kingdoms were no more.” She took a shaky breath. “I fear that if I trust someone again, they will do the same.”

He had had no idea- He had always thought you had hid in Casterly Rock, looking down upon them as they were slaughtered on battlefields. That you had been essentially held captive had never once crossed his mind as a possibility.

Be gentle with her. She has gone through a lot.

“I am not your mother. You will never experience anything like it again, I swear it.”

Ghost eventually left his side and took a few careful steps towards you, sniffing at your hand, bumping his nose into your arm. And even though Jon had seen you ride in on a horse, had seen your eyes, hard as ice, staring at anyone daring to get too close to you, it still took him by surprise when you did not move back in fear, instead slowly starting to let your fingers glide through his white fur. All while failing at hiding the smile gracing your lips.

He wished you would smile like this at him. Some day, perhaps.

“I remember them from my last visit,” you said. “Though this one has grown quite a lot during this time.”

“His name is Ghost.”

“Ghost.” You chuckled. “An apt name. And I think you agree as well.” You ruffled the direwolf’s fur.

“You changed as well. You grew taller, and your hair has gotten longer as well. Back then you looked just like your mother, but I can’t say you share much resemblance with her now.”

The words had tumbled out of him, and he regretted them as soon as he closed his mouth. What had gotten him to say all this?

Then, into the silence, you whispered, “I don’t remember you at all.”

Your smile had faded, replaced by the constant state of terrified impassiveness he had gotten so used to seeing on you.

“I do not blame you. I was a lowly bastard, and you part of the royal family. Our paths could have never crossed, even had we wanted to.”

“And yet you remember me.” You looked down into the courtyard. “Likely remember me walking out of that wheelhouse beside my mother, and smiling at your brother, and talking to your sister, and decorating myself with all that useless frivolity, still so deep in the belief that my life would have some meaning.”

“Then perhaps it is time you create those memories of me.”

Something that was far more beautiful than you trying to hide your smile was you trying to hide your grin. And perhaps, if the sun had been out during your conversation, he would have seen pink bloom on your cheeks.

All week, the castle had been busy preparing for the wedding. Your wedding. The one that would make you queen of a strange and alien kingdom.

You had stayed away, as well as you could - while you still could. After tomorrow, you would be expected to act as their queen, no matter how little you knew your people.

Pacing up and down your chambers had become something of a favourite pastime of yours. Not that you liked it, of course, but you did not dare step foot out of the door on your own, without one of the Starks to accompany you. Defend you against the disapproving stares.

A knock on your door.

You had expected everything, except for King Jon to stand on its other side, a wooden box and a book in his hands.

“May I come in?”

You could not quite forbid your betrothed from walking around his castle, so you stepped aside without a word and closed the thick wooden door behind him.

“I wanted to talk with you about tomorrow,” he said quickly. Either because he did not want to stay in your presence any longer than necessary, or because he was nervous.

You nodded, indicating to him to continue.

“There will not be a bedding ceremony. I have been to Northern weddings before, and approximately know when they happen. We will leave before then.”

You could barely comprehend his words. He could not truly mean-

“Why?”

“I- You will be my wife and queen, and I want my lords to respect you. I don't want their first real interaction with you to be… touching you inappropriately.”

He was seemingly embarrassed by his own words, and if you were not currently talking about the prospect of your wedding night, you might even say it was cute.

“I… thank you.” You tugged at the sleeves of your gown. “But I doubt it would change anything. I am an outsider, whether or not they undress me tomorrow will not change how they see me.”

He then, quite strangely, handed you the book he had been carrying. “But this might.”

Justice and Injustice in the North. You had been reading the tome in the glass gardens two days past, and had forgotten it there in your desperate attempt to escape Jon.

You looked up, and met his dark, endless eyes.

“You are learning about the North,” he said. “Not simply its people, but its laws and customs as well.”

“It's the least I can do.”

“See? Not even married to me and you are already taking your role as future queen of these lands seriously.”

Then he offered you the wooden box, opened the latch, and revealed a simple iron crown. Much like his own, yet this one had a small ruby etched into the front.

“You do not have to wear this tomorrow,” he said. “But you can, if you wish. I will force you to nothing.”

You nodded slightly, took the box, and carried it and the book towards one of the cupboards.

“I assume that will be all?”

You could not remain in the same room with him for any longer, could not stand to remain in vicinity to this man who had been treating you so kindly at no benefit to himself.

“Actually… There is one more thing.”

Jon gently turned you towards him, laying his fingers underneath your chin to urge you to meet his eyes. The moonlight fell through the window beside you, bathing him into a soft, silver light that illuminated his black curls.

“We will be watched for the rest of our lives. Nothing will remain secret, each of our actions needing to ensure prosperity for the North and all who live here. I am certain that tomorrow, even if we manage to escape the ceremony, someone will ensure we have consummated our union. So, if you are willing, I want this one, simple thing to be just ours.”

His lips had gotten so close to yours, a mere hair's breadth apart, and you could once again feel the immense heat radiating off it.

You could refuse, you knew. If you told him no, he would accept your answer, and leave. Yet his words echoed inside you, and you knew them to be true.

And so, instead of whispering that dreaded word, you simply closed the space between you, and sealed your lips in a kiss.

A week ago, Jon would have never thought he would feel so at ease standing before the heart tree in Winterfell's godswood, you before him in a blinding white gown and with the iron crown of winter upon your hair, speaking the vows that would bind you. But he was glad the day had come. And he was glad you were the woman he would share eternity with.

The ceremony, the brief kiss, and the feast passed by him in a breeze, his wife's hand in his the only thing grounding him.

His wife.

He would need some time to get used to that word.

You looked even more radiant than you had the previous night, cloaked in the silver light filling your room, with red lips swollen from your kiss. He was barely able to keep his eyes off you.

(A part of him desperately hoped his lords noticed.)

And then the moment came. The guests in the feast hall either too distracted or too drunk to pay the pair of you any real mind, so his fingers tightened around yours, and he pulled you upward, through the servant's entrance behind the high table, and down Winterfell's corridors.

His quick steps had turned into a run at some point, and your giggles echoed off the stone walls.

Then you entered his chambers, and you went quiet.

“I-” He swallowed. “I know what I said yesterday, but we do not have to do this today if you do not want to. There is no pressure on us to-”

“No. Let us get through this.”

You took off your crown and cloak, laid both of them on a chair, and then started unlacing your dress. Eyes lowered, half-turned away from him.

Carefully, he stepped up towards you, and laid his hands on yours. And then, when you looked up and met his gaze, eyes sparkling in the fire of the candles around you, he laid his lips on yours without hesitation.

Your previous two kisses - one in your chambers, one at the ceremony earlier in the evening - had been chaste. Short and sweet, yes, but over far too quickly, and without ever providing him with the opportunity to feel you. Now he allowed himself to move deeper, to touch your body, explore your mouth with his, trace the lines of your dress, hear your pretty gasps. And you accepted. Melted into him, almost.

Until he touched the laces at your back.

He pulled back, heart beating in his chest so loudly he feared you might hear.

“If you wish to stop at any point…”

You nodded. “I know.”

To alleviate at least some of your fears, he started undressing, willing to bare himself and that what he feared most to stop your trembling hands. And they did, yet only once he had gotten rid of his blouse.

You stared at the scars on his chest. Carefully, you lifted a hand and let it hover above them. He made no move to stop you, only watching your confused eyes as your fingers traced his skin.

(He did not look down. Would not dare.)

“What-” Your voice broke. “What happened?”

“I was betrayed. They’re all dead now.”

He left it at that, and you did not inquire any further.

Eventually, even your last clothes fell to the ground, your lips once again locked into a kiss as he picked you up and carried you to the bed.

His hands explored your body slowly, gliding across your breasts, your stomach, your legs. And once you stopped twitching away, he let his mouth follow that same path. First kissing your breasts, then your stomach, then your legs, and then your core.

He listened to your gasps and your moans to find out what you liked, and what you loved. Your body reacted, as if on its own, to every single one of his touches, to the movements of his tongue, the crooking of his fingers, and when you finally peaked, he took everything you offered him.

Then he wandered upwards again, sealing your lips in a kiss. Your fingers got tangled up in his hair, pulls and tugs eliciting groans from his mouth that you swallowed as soon as they spilled across his lips.

He entered you as gently as he could, stopping shortly when you buried your nails into his shoulder. Once your hips sat flush against each other, and he had looked into your eyes, he started moving. Your back arched at his thrusts, and you swung your leg around his waist to encourage him to speed up. He followed your commands without hesitation.

You peaked again, and he followed shortly afterwards, spilling inside of you and sealing your union.

You laid in his bed afterwards, tangled up, pressed against each other, your heartbeats echoing the other, yearning to beat in tandem.

He would be alright. Perhaps you would never love each other, but you would be friends, and he decided that ruling side by side with someone he trusted was everything he needed.

author's note: if you liked this story, may i recommend the fic it was inspired by, meet me in the dark

#jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow x you #jon snow x y/n #asoiaf #game of thrones #asoiaf fanfic #game of thrones fanfic #fic: stars above songs below

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