#this took me nearly 30 hours

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

#transgender #queer #transmasc #lgbtqia+ #trans man #sexism #medical sexism #feminism #male privilege

[tfshouldidohere]

im home and tireddddddddd and and and *dies*

#i had to fight a blood war for a ride home #one thing about living in a third world country in south east asia #is that getting a ride home is a bitch #i live an hour away from home <//3 #and it took me like 30 ~ 40 minutes to even find a ride that wasnt full to the brim #u see 5pm is rush hour #so theres a SHIT TON of traffic and people looking for rides home #like there were probably nearly a hundred people by the side of the road looking for a decent ride #and so i did eventually find one that passed by my street #and the driver said it had room for two more [i had a friend with me] #WHICH WAS A LIEEEEEEEEEEE #I HAD TO PRACTICALLY FLOAT WITH MY ASS QUITE LITERALLY ONLY TAKING UP ONE INCH OF SPACE #midway it got better !!!!!!! #bcuz the cute guy next to me moved around [GAVE UP HALF HIS SEAT FOR ME] and #we ended up just being very tightly squished together #i didnt see his face but i could tell he was cute from his 1/4 profile #like my legs were shaking and giving out and i considered sitting on the FLOOR #and then he like moved around [in the tiny cramped space] and said “here does this help ?” #AND FUCKYEAH IT DID #my new love language is making room for me in very tight spaces #i might see him again #bcuz im 99% sure we go to the same university [had same ID on] #but the chances of me meeting him again r very low #if u r the mystery stranger with the mole on ur right cheek: u did not see this #TFShouldIRambles

[flowered-mp3]

toronto traffic consistently being the bane of my existence

#took me nearly an hour to get to the airport when i should only take 30. fuck #e.txt

[lisired]

smile for the camera

pairing: haechan x (f) reader x jisung (ft. a reoccurring renjun who’s mainly there for suspenseful purposes)

genre/warnings: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, dom!haechan, switch!jisung, switch!reader, jisung is a virgin, degradation, praise, spanking, pussy slapping, sexting, rough kink, edging, really bad 3some scenes bc I am terrible @ balancing attention, oral (both m/f receiving), f I missed smth lmk

summary: upon accidentally finding a video of you and your boyfriend haechan doing some very sexual things, jisung knows that he shouldn’t watch it. he knows that it would be an extreme invasion of privacy, but he’s unable to control himself when he sees the thumbnail. so he settles for only watching 30 seconds. except, 30 seconds turns into 30 minutes, and by then he’s buried himself too deep into a life-changing situation—or in which jisung’s terrible at keeping secrets.

wored count: 19.8k of pure filfth (what the fuck is wrong with me)

author’s note: this is a repost of an oldie but goldie, i think. i hope. feedback is appreciated!

Fuck.

Jisung knows that there’s a plethora and a half reasons why this is a terrible idea. For one, it’s an invasion of privacy. The thumbnail is explicit, leaving zero room for ignorance—the bare, nearly naked sight of you and Haechan blankets over the screen, and if that isn’t enough to tell him that this isn’t something he was supposed to see, then the rather intimate position you and your boyfriend are in is quite the message.

He didn’t mean to find it. He wasn’t searching, wasn’t looking—not for this video in particular anyways. He was simply going through the camera roll in search of something else, and happened to stumble across what is so obviously you and Haechan’s sextape. If he had known that there was inappropriate things on there, Jisung would have asked for permission before he went on Haechan’s laptop. Yet the shocking discovery has him filled to the brim with curiosity, despite him knowing it would be wrong.

Thirty seconds. I can watch thirty seconds, then cut it off, he thinks. What’s thirty seconds out of a minutes-long video? You and Haechan can go for hours, the sounds you make whenever you stay the night at the dorm keep Jisung up long enough to know that. A part of him doesn’t mind since you sound so sweet, and he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to take Haechan’s place, to have you crying his name. No, he shakes his head. He doesn’t need to think like that. It’s bad enough that he’s watching this video. So he looks around the room a couple times, even though no one’s home except Renjun, and he’s asleep. Then he reluctantly presses play, turning up the volume a couple notches. He’d never miss the opportunity to hear you.

The tape starts off quick, you already sitting on your knees between your boyfriend’s legs as you took him in your mouth. Haechan pointed the camera in a way that gives Jisung a near-perfect image of what it would be like to have you sucking him off, with your lips wrapped perfectly around his cock and your eyes so round as you gazed up at him innocently. If you looked at him like that, Jisung would probably cum on the spot.

“Gonna show the camera what a whore you are for me?” Haechan said, out of Jisung’s vision for the most part and he prefers it that way. He’d feel too guilty looking at his friend’s face, and of course he’ll feel even more guilty looking at yours, but he’ll suppress those feelings until he inevitably sees you in person.

Then-you nodded a little in response, looking so desperate and eager to please. If only you knew Jisung would be watching this, would you have still agreed to filming yourself so explicitly? He doubts that you would’ve, it isn’t like your relationship has ever been anything other than platonic. He’s nothing more than the best friend of the man you’re dating, of course you only see him as a friend, too. Nothing more.

“Then get to work, baby.”

It took nothing more for you to comply, sucking your boyfriend’s dick in your mouth while your tongue swirled alive. Your hand wrapped around him too, grip not too heavy, yet not too loose either. It’s no surprise to Jisung, but you look amazing with a cock stuffed between your lips and he imagines it’s him instead. You’d probably feel just as good as you look. Honestly, Jisung’s never had anything other than his own hands around his dick, and you look so skilled that he knows you’d be promising.

Even if he couldn’t see, he can hear. Haechan’s a moaner - quite a loud one - and he’s making it obvious you’re doing a great job with how utterly verbal he is. All the moans and praises spilling from between his lips had you soaking and motivated you to work harder.

By the time Jisung thinks to check the timestamp, he’s already more than thirty seconds in. This sends him into mini-panic, but he slowly decides it wouldn’t hurt to watch a little more. So he does, in too deep to stop.

02:05, you looked up at Haechan with a gaze that gets Jisung hard. 06:48, you were gagging because Haechan had gotten a little rough on you, tugging at your hair and using his hands to control you, facefucking you. 07:12, 10:22, 12:57, by the time Jisung’s thirteen minutes in, Haechan’s patience had dissipated and he’d thrown you onto the bed, claiming he wanted to cum in you—not your mouth. Then Jisung has this thought of what it would be like to cum inside you, and wonders if one day you’d ever let him. He knows that you wouldn’t, but it’s still a fun fantasy.

Jisung finds himself enjoying this new angle better. Your whole body is on display, thanks to Haechan taking off your undergarments as well as the remaining portions of his own clothes. He had you on all fours, waiting impatiently for him as he teased your slit from behind you, gliding his cock over it while being careful not to slide in. The moment you whined, Jisung pulls his own dick out, not entirely, but enough to where his fingers can touch him in place of yours.

“So needy,” Haechan cooed, brushing his cock against your wetness, “you’re so wet. All for me, right? Tell me who got you this wet.”

“You,” you muttered.

Haechan drew back, sounding a desperate whimper from you, “Speak up, baby. Can’t hear you.”

“You!” you said it louder, adding something extra you knew your boyfriend would like enough to quit his teasing and finally slide in, “you, Hyuck, only you. Want you s-so bad.”

Just like that, Haechan gave back in, finally slipping himself in and stretching you far and wide. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, gripping your waist and rocking against your hips.

At the same time, Jisung strokes himself, watching the way you let your boyfriend toy with you, how needily you take everything he gives you. He thinks you look beautiful, your back in a pretty arch, your thighs and breast shaking as your body lurches forward at the impact of Haechan’s thrusts, your face—god, do you look gorgeous when you moan. Maybe there is a privilege in being a viewer. Haechan couldn’t, though Jisung can see your face perfectly.

“Harder,” you begged, your voice practically muffled as you whimpered into the pillows and mattress, yet he still heard you, “harder, Hyuck, please, please, please?”

“Baby want’s it harder?” He chuckled. “You’ve been so good for me, so I’ll give you everything my sweet girl wants.”

Watching Haechan touch you in all the places Jisung oh so desperately wishes he was, he feels like he’s going insane. You’re so incredibly fucked out, so out of it that the pleasure has practically locked you inside of a trance. Knowing you’re a sucker for contact, your boyfriend toyed with your body a little more, rubbing your clit to heighten the feeling, slowly yet steadily climbing his hands up your skin until they’re brushing your chest. Jisung moans when you do, unable to shake his urge to be inside you. Just one time, he begs to no one in particular, one time, and he’ll be able to happily move on with his life.

It feels like with every moment that passes, he’s closer to the edge. He’s blocked out everything else in the world, hyper-focused on your body and face. Your mouth agape, the pretty sounds that tumbled loose every time your boyfriend hit the spot, how caught up in the pleasure you were. If you gave him a chance, he thinks he could make you feel good, too. Sure, all the experience he has is with the palm of his hand, and he’s no where near as experienced as your boyfriend, but with a little guidance, he thinks he’d make you crack.

Though right now, he’s about to crack.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jisung’s been here plenty enough times before to know that’s he’s almost there—not necessarily watching you like this, but on those occasions when you stay over and go at it with Haechan during the dead nights where you think no one is awake, where he’s secretly hearing you and shutting his eyes, imagining a twisted fantasy of you and him. He even sometimes does it when you’re not there, getting off to the memory of your pretty lips or gentle fingers, both around his cock. Up until now, it worried him that the thought of fucking your mouth kept crawling stealthily back inside his brain. You’re so gorgeous, so cute and loving. Though upon seeing you beg for Haechan to be rougher with you, witnessing secondhand how you took your boyfriend’s length despite him forcing it down your throat, he thinks you can handle it.

Fuuuuucck. Jisung bites at his bottom lip as he cums, shutting his eyes as the pressure breaks through his body. It’s so intense, taking everything in him not to make noise as his cum shoots into his pants.

When he’s done, it takes him a couple seconds to blink back in. Then the realization of what he’s done hits, following with the guilt and shame of his actions. He always feels bad after he cums to you, but this was different. This time, he had done something inexcusable, and he can’t help but wonder about how you’d feel if you found out. Would you think he’s a creep? Could you ever look at him the same again? Jisung doesn’t think he can live with that, so he quickly exits the tab and discards all evidence of his activity, shutting the laptop and buttoning back up his pants. He’ll definitely need to wash those himself.

Swiftly, he swoops the laptop up, and walks into the hall to put it back. The video he was originally looking for is long-forgotten, and he spent over half an hour watching you and Haechan. Jisung’s a terrible liar. If Haechan comes back before he can put his laptop back, he’s toast.

“Why do you have Haechan’s MacBook?”

Jisung freezes. Fuck, he forget about Renjun.

“I don’t,” he winces, realizing that’s a boldfaced lie. He has puppy stickers on his MacBook. Unmistakable puppy stickers, all your doing. “Okay, so maybe I do—”

Renjun glares.

“Fine, I totally do! But I wasn’t doing anything, I was just trying to find that video of Jeno and Haechan from the beach!” Jisung defends himself like he’s being accused of murder, “You know Haechan keeps everything on his laptop!”

Renjun nods his head. Valid. He’s still skeptical, but he doesn’t care enough to further interrogate the younger, so he just shrugs and walks into the living room. Jisung sighs in relief. He’s gotten away with it for now. Now he just needs to put the laptop back in Haechan’s room and pretend that what happened never actually happened.

Jisung’s been acting weird lately.

No scooting next to you on the couch and lying his head in your lap. No asking you how your day has been. No shyly waving at you whenever you first walk through the dorm door. No awkward hello’s (hell, he’s hardly even speaking to you.)

Even when you try and speak to him, his answers are plain and simple.

How’s your day? Fine.

Did you guys have a good practice? It was nice.

Have you been thinking about trying any new hair colors? Not really.

You don’t think he’s even looking at you. And Jisung’s really not that shy as you originally thought him out to be, after he got to know you a little, he was holding eye contact with you during conversations just fine. He’s a confident speaker even. But you try not to overthink things and try to get used to the emptiness without his normal self, chalking it up to him having a bad week or something. It’s normal, everyone has those.

Mission unsuccessful. You are the queen of overthinking. In fact, you are literally the walking definition of overthinking. If someone Googled the meaning of overthink, your name would probably pop up next to it.

So you turn to your all-time favorite therapist, AKA your boyfriend.

“Is it just me, or has Jisung been acting different lately?”

You’re at the dorms, in the middle of folding laundry. Haechan stands near you, doing absolutely nothing. Normally the guys would absolutely never let you do their laundry, and it’s Haechan’s turn this week, but you offered and somewhat aggressively insisted on folding, so he let you. He knows that you willingly do chores when there’s something on your mind and you’re trying to get it off but you can’t, so he was aware there was only a matter of time before you asked him some ridiculous question.

Your boyfriend blinks, not expecting the question, but if he’s caught off-guard then he conceals it quickly. “Just you, babe.”

You frown, “Think about it. He’s been acting so weird.”

“Jisung’s always weird,” Haechan laughs, “I haven’t noticed anything. He seems the same to me. Why are you so worried about him anyways?”

“Because he’s being weird, Haechan, I’m telling you. He doesn’t wave at or greet me anymore, doesn’t sit next to me during movies, and he won’t even talk to me anymore! I asked him if there was any hair colors he wanted to try and he said not really. He always has a list of hell no’s and shit that’s on his bucket list. This isn’t normal, Hyuck,” you ramble, halting in the middle of folding some Adidas sweatshirt.

Haechan pauses, rewinding a little and realizing that you may have a point. A small point, but a point nonetheless. “Well now that you mentioned it, I don’t remember having to hyper watch him during movie nights.”

“Exactly, because he doesn’t lay in my lap!”

“Thank God, maybe he’s finally learning boundaries,” Haechan says, relieved if that’s the case. Jisung’s never been particularly touchy with you, but he does use you like a human pillow during movie nights. Not that you mine, but your slightly possessive boyfriend does. “I was gonna kill him if he kept that shit up any longer.”

“Babe,” you whine, “seriously.”

“Oh, I am being serious. But I’ll ask the guys if they’ve noticed anything,” and as if perfectly on-cue, Renjun walks into the living room, “Yo Renjun, you think Jisung’s been acting weird lately?”

Renjun shrugs. “Nope, why?”

“Cause y/n thinks he is, and she’s like super worried. Been tryna tell her it’s probably nothing, but you know how she is—”

“Hey!”

Renjun pauses for a couple seconds, brows furrowed as he tries his hardest to think. And then it dawns on him. “Wait, the other day I did see him leave his room with your MacBook.”

Haechan furrows his eyebrows. “My MacBook?”

“Yeah, it had puppy stickers on the cover. I asked him why he had it, and he did a whole defensive rant talking about how he was simply, and I quote, ‘just trying to find that video of Jeno and Haechan from the beach’. I hope he never gets interrogated for something serious,” Renjun says coolly.

MacBook. Video. Haechan’s MacBook. Video. Oh god, this cannot be what you think it is. Yet as you gaze at your boyfriend, you can tell he’s thinking the exact same thing as you.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groans. “When was this?”

“Like four days ago, why?” Renjun questions, utterly confused.

The time lines up, that’s when he started acting distant with you. He definitely saw something he wasn’t supposed to.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, tugging your boyfriend’s hair.

The ultimate stress reliever, head from your boyfriend. You’re not even exaggerating, the man eats pussy like his life depends on every lap. In this case particularly however, you’re ninety-nine percent sure he’s more so trying to shut you up by distracting you with something that’ll make you whimper in pleasure instead of distress, and you refuse to go down without a challenge. It is, needless to say, a challenge, especially with how the way that he makes you see stars clouds your mind, but you won’t succumb yet.

“Feel good?” Haechan parts for a split second to speak, then dips right back in unhesitatingly. He really doesn’t have to ask, but you know he only is because he wants to hear it from you, as though your moans aren’t telling enough.

“Yes, f-fuck,” you moan, unable to numb yourself to the pleasure. You wouldn’t even if you could, though it would be useful for you to convey your thoughts right now—the ones that keep slipping away the more he works between your thighs, yet you’re clutching onto them desperately. “But babe, gosh, what about Jisung—”

Haechan draws back, resulting in a whine to sound from you. “Baby, tell me you’re not talking about another man while I’m eating you out.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” you bemoan, “I mean, I could, but I don’t want to. I’m worried about him, you know, like what if he’s traumatized. And what if he never looks at me the same again, he’s never gonna—oh.”

Haechan cuts you off mid-rant by stuffing his fingers inside you, catching you a little off-guard since you hadn’t suspected his actions, or even take notice of how he moved from between your thighs, positioning himself behind you with your back to his chest. “Do you want him to forget?”

His question seems to catch you off-guard a little more. “Huh?”

“Do you want Jisung to forget what he saw?” He repeats. “He saw you naked, baby. He saw you sucking me off, maybe even you getting fucked into this mattress if he’s that nosy. Do you want him to forget that he saw you like that, or do you want him to remember? To get curious?”

If you’re bring frank, the thought has crossed your mind at one point. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself (because you already have a man, how dare you want another?) but a part of you craves Jisung. You think it has for a while, you’re just now coming to terms with it. That doesn’t mean that you don’t want Haechan—you do want him, you love him and you’ll never stop—though you can’t help but want Jisung a little, too.

“I… I don’t know,” you lie, afraid of choosing the wrong answer. How would Haechan take that you want to fuck another guy? And how could you unabashedly admit that to him?

“Stop being complicated, I know that you know,” he pulls away his fingers, as though to punish you for lying, “do you wanna fuck him or not, y/n?”

As expected, you whine once more for the umpteenth time this hour. You’re thinking about answering honestly if it means that he’ll stop denying you pleasure. “Why are you asking me this when you said you’d kill him if he kept lying on my lap!”

“I know what I said, and it has nothing to do with my question. Now if you wanna cum, tell me the truth,” your boyfriend whispers, silk voice giving you goosebumps, “if it helps, I know Jisung and I’m like a hundred-percent sure that he is absolutely anything but traumatized. The horny bastard probably got off to it if anything, and now he’s all embarrassed and worried about you finding out. That’s why he’s avoiding you.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “And not you?”

“I’m assuming it’s because you’re the one he wants to fuck,” Haechan shrugs, “since he’s usually all over you instead of me.”

Well fuck. You hate this. You hate it because if Jisung wants you just as bad as you want him, then something could really happen, and worst of all, Haechan’s okay with that. That’s probably all the reasons you need to love this, but you can’t shake the feeling that something about this is wrong, even if you want it. It’s the same feeling that’s prevented you from accepting how you feel, all of the shame and the guilt inside you. But fuck, are you willing to ignore it. Your moral compass is malfunctioning. You’re malfunctioning, probably. There’s no reason you’re turned on thinking about all the ways you could have both of them, and you can’t say the fantasies aren’t fun. You can’t say that you don’t want to take a chance at living them out. And even though technically, you can, that would most definitely be lying. You’re a woman of truth, and nothing but.

So you decide to tell him the truth.

“I… want him to remember,” you admit, your voice low but audible.

“Course you do,” Haechan crams a pair of his fingers back inside you, prompting a fairly loud gasp from between your lips in response, “you’re such a cock-hungry fucking slut, you’ll never be satisfied with just one, hm?”

“N-no, not a—fuck—slut,” even though you deny it, Haechan feels the way you clench around his fingers when he degrades you. He even felt the way you clenched around them when he described all the ways Jisung’s potentially seen you, and from that moment forward, he knew exactly what you wanted.

“Yes, you are, baby,” he disagrees, observing how you moan for him so needily. He thinks about how Jisung felt the moment he saw you like this in that video, so gone and pathetic. Then he remembers Jisung’s horniness is through the roof, and he was definitely turned on. “Such a slut. My greedy slut. Tell me you’re my slut.”

“I-I’m your slut, Hyuck,” you whisper, too caught up in bliss to speak an octave louder without forcing yourself.

Haechan slaps your thigh, and you moan consequently, “Louder.”

“I’m your slut!” you cry, louder than intended, yet your volume pleases him.

Satisfied, he smirks a little to himself. “Good girl. You wanna cum?”

“God, yes,” you’re nodding your head almost violently, “please?”

“Go ahead, baby. Let go for me.”

You’re in a daze-like state, feeling almost lightheaded as you clutch your boyfriend’s thighs for leverage. It’s either extremely early in the morning or extremely late at night and you’re at the dorms again, so you dig your teeth into your lips to try and conceal your moans as you cum, almost too out of it to even do that. Though as many times as you’ve been in this situation, biting back moans until your lips are bleeding, you like to think that you’ve perfected the silent skill.

The moment you come down from your high you lie your head against your boyfriend’s chest, and he whispers into your ear all these sweet praises, telling you how good you are for him. Everything is typical, with him holding you tight and close.

“Now, I want you to hear something,” Haechan says, throwing you off a little.

“Hear what?” You ask, nothing but confused.

“Shh,” he whispers, “listen carefully.”

Allowing your curiosity to get the best of you, your lips press together in absolute silence, and you’re even holding in your breath so that it won’t distract you too much. It takes a couple of seconds, but your ears begin to pick up on the faint sounds of groans coming from the wall that separates Haechan and Jisung’s rooms, which could only mean one thing.

He’s jerking off… to you?

Fuck, why does that turn you on? You wish that you were right there next to him, so that you could perfectly hear how deep his voice is when he grunts like that. Better yet, you wish that you were touching him yourself, so that you could see how his face looks when you make him cum. It isn’t fair. He’s seen you naked, while you’re left with not much more than your imagination.

“Haechan…” you whisper speechlessly.

“I know,” he whispers back. “He’s been doing this every night we fuck when you stay over. I know you’re always too fucked out to hear anything, though.”

Oh, god. The walls are severely thin here, you can only imagine all the noises he’s heard you make over the nights. All the times he’s came, and no wonder you hear him insisting on washing his own laundry. The guys already tease him, saying that it’s because he’s always jacking off, but you’re the sole one that never would’ve thought he was truly this horny—that he’d jack off to you.

“What do we do?” You ask, although your head isn’t exactly blank. It’s just that everything you’re thinking, you’re not sure your boyfriend would approve of.

“Confront him,” Haechan replies, like the answers obvious, and the moment you stare back at him in shock and appalled, he adds, “I’m not mad at you or against it, baby. If you wanna fuck him, then you can once on the condition that I have to be there. I’m sure that horny fuck wouldn’t care.”

You don’t believe your ears. “Really?”

“Yes,” he begins to yawn a little, “but tomorrow. For now let’s go to bed.”

The two of you lie down, and you go to sleep imagining all the possibilities of what could happen within the next twenty-four hours, snuggled up in your boyfriend’s arms.

The following day, you and Haechan plan out the confrontation quietly in his bedroom. Since the walls are thinner than you thought, most of your conversation is in hushed whispers and low tone.

Just thinking about it has you excited. If everything goes according to plan—essentially meaning if Jisung doesn’t shy off despite your boyfriend’s insistence on watching instead of participating—then you’ll have him wrapped around your finger, right where you want him. You just hope that he won’t freak out too much.

“You got it?” Haechan whispers once he finishes explaining the rundown of the plan.

It’s nothing like some elaborate scheme, or intricately-detailed ploy. There isn’t much to it but patience and faith in the slight steps to play out in your favor, although the ratio of your amount of the two things is dramatic.

“Yeah,” you reply a little too fast, a little too enthusiastically, “can’t wait.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” he taunts, “you don’t have a choice. But I’ll get the rest of the guys out of here by two, and then you’ll have Virgin Mary all to yourself. He just won’t have you to himself.”

You make a confused face, “What’s with the emphasis on him being a horny virgin?”

“You don’t get why I want to watch, do you?” Haechan asks, and you shake your head. You’ve been tempted to ask, but you’ve already come to terms with the fact that your boyfriend sometimes works in mysterious ways far beyond your comprehension level. “Baby, I doubt Jisung’s gonna know what to do with you. He’s gonna need a couple of pointers plus a push in the right direction. And who knows your body and how to fuck you better than to me?”

No one. Not a single soul. You find it a little embarrassing, but not even you. Haechan didn’t take your virginity, but the first time sure felt like he had—he had reached places you didn’t know were there, let alone reachable, and he made sex seem like something totally new. No one has quite pleased you the way your boyfriend has.

“So you’re going to… teach him?” Is the conclusion you make when you put the pieces together, and Haechan nods.

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

That is what you want to call it.

Time passes rather slowly. Every hour feels twice as long, and you feel as though you’re going to die any moment now. The second you hear the sound of the guys piling outside the dorm, there’s a burst of excitement in you, making your stomach turn and swarm with butterflies. (It’s killed briefly when Jaemin rushes back inside, claiming he forgot his phone, but once they drive away you’re filled with bliss once more.)

Jisung steps outside his room, “Where’s everyone going?”

“Away,” Haechan replies vaguely as you two walk back down the hall.

“So it’s just us three?”

“Yep,” you and your boyfriend answer in unison.

Jisung looks absolutely petrified, though not wanting to appear suspicious (he’s kind of late, but it’s the effort that counts) his face soothes soon after. “Cool.” To him, it is anything but cool.

“Cool,” you repeat, “so you wanna watch a movie with us in Haechan’s room?”

“I don’t think I should—”

“Please?” Your eyes are begging him, pleading at him, and for safe measure, you add, “I miss you Sungie, it feels like it’s been forever.”

Truthfully, it hasn’t been anywhere near that long. Though Jisung knows that he’s been extremely distant with you—probably why you feel kicked away—and he feels terrible. Plus, it’s impossible to say no to you, especially when you give him that look, gazing at him like a sad puppy.

He gives in, “Okay.”

“Yay!” You clap your hands together. You clutch Jisung’s fist and begin to drag him down the hallway, “Babe go make popcorn!”

Some moments later, everyone’s settled down. The three of you sitting on Haechan’s bed, with you squeezed in the middle like the cream of an oreo. You rest your head on Jisung’s shoulder and he tenses a little at first, though eventually relaxs.

Everything’s going great and according to plan. Jisung looks calm, laughing the movie and being as naturally clingy as he usually is during movie nights. You and Haechan glance at one another occasionally, silently deciding on the perfect moment to strike and telepathically agreeing that that moment is now.

Haechan pauses Netflix, making Jisung whine in complaint. “Why’d you do that? It was getting suspenseful.”

“You’re getting a little comfortable, don’t you think?” Haechan tilts his head.

It takes Jisung a couple of seconds to realize what Haechan’s talking about, but once he does, he quickly separates his hands away from you and scoots over to put a little distance between the two of you.

His face burns like fire. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re a repeat offender, Jisung, sorry isn’t gonna cut it this time,” and before Jisung can apologize again, Haechan adds, “plus, I have another question for you.”

“What is it?” Jisung swallows sharply.

“When you watched that video, did you cum?” It’s you that asks the question this time, much to Jisung’s surprise. He’s chewing hard on his lip, nervousness spelt out across his face.

Still, he plays dumb, holding onto the slim piece of remaining hope he has to consider that maybe this is a joke, that you aren’t serious and don’t actually know he’s seen the video. “W-what video?” Even his own voice betrays him, and Jisung knows from this moment that he’s screwed. Terribly fucking screwed.

“I’m sure you know it very well. The one where she’s giving me head and I’m fucking her into this mattress, remember?” Haechan inquires, a smirk blooming onto his lips as he watches Jisung break.

He’s done, he thinks. You probably hate him. You’re probably disgusted with him, repulsed by him, and appalled that his prying eyes saw you in such a sexual context. He doesn’t look at you, afraid of what he might see, holding his head down low in shame as he’s unable to lie to you anymore. “Sorry. I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I didn’t, I wasn’t trying—I didn’t mean to, I just… I was just trying to find—”

“That video of me and Jeno from the beach, yes, Renjun told us. But you found something you liked better and just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Something about humiliating Jisung, toying with him a little simply to see how he reacts is fun to Haechan. All of his reactions, needless to say, are amusing; shuffling in his spot; fidgeting with his hands; swallowing and gulping hard; biting his bottom lip; and his eyes widening in panic as his cheeks sting with embarrassment.

You add, “We heard you last night, too. Do you always listen in on us like that?”

Jisung whimpers, “Y/n…”

“Answer my question, Sungie,” you lean into his ear, “do you always listen in on us like that?”

Whenever he’s awake, he definitely does. Jisung isn’t oblivious to the fact that if he can overhear Haechan’s room, then you guys can certainly overhear him in his room, but he thought he was quiet enough to get away with it. You have to give him credit, if Haechan would’ve never pointed it out you probably would have never noticed.

“Y-yes,” he admits in a low murmur, head still hanging low, “I’m sorry, you just sound so pretty when you… make noises, and it wakes me up. But sometimes I stay up and wait because I know you’ll start soon. Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad? You don’t get it, do you?” You move to straddle his lap, gripping his chin to force eye contact with him. He appears taken aback by your actions, but doesn’t fight them. “If I was mad, we wouldn’t be doing this, Jisung. I’m here because I want you, and you want me, right?”

Jisung’s Adam’s apple bobs as silence prevails over his voice.

“Answer her,” Haechan commands. “Do you want her?”

Jisung chokes out, “Yes.”

Shaking your head in dissatisfaction, you instruct, “Say it. Tell me what you want. Do I have to walk you through it like an ameteur?”

Jisung instantly shakes his head. He’s not a baby, he can do this. “You,” he finds the courage to say, fighting the urge to cower, “I want you.”

“Good boy,” you purr, “but you didn’t answer my first question, so I have some more for you.”

Trying his hardest to conceal how evidently the pet name fazes him while simultaneously bracing himself for the severity of your question, he asks coolly, “What are they?”

You lean back into his ear, but with you in his lap and his hands holding your waist this time, it feels so much different. “Do you moan for me when you cum?” Your voice tickles his neck, but he thinks he that likes it, “do you say my name?”

Fuck. Jisung could get hard at the memory, recalling all the times he’s came to you, moaning your name quietly to himself as he imagines you’re around his cock—your hands, your pussy, your mouth, anything. He’ll take anything as long as it’s from you. The only time he doesn’t moan your name is when he has to be silent, like when he was watching that video of you, in spite of how badly he wanted to call out for you right then and pray that you would somehow answer.

“Yes, fuck,” slowly, all of his shame and dignity is dissipating, “I imagine it’s you,” he mutters.

That gets you going as well. Jisung fucking his hand to the thought of you, pretending that it’s you, and moaning your name as he cums is a sight you’d pay to see. You’re pretty sure he’d send you a video for free though.

Deciding this needs to escalate quicker than it is, Haechan instructs, “Touch her, Jisung.”

“T-touch her?” Jisung repeats back, incredulous that this is the same Haechan who shoots him knife sharp glares whenever he so much as accidentally brushes his fingers against yours during movie nights. “Are you sure?”

“You think I’d ask you to touch my girlfriend if I wasn’t sure?” Haechan deadpans. “Honestly, you’re asking the wrong person.”

So Jisung shifts his focus back to you, and you eye him with these lustful eyes that tell him, scream at him that you want him. It’s so much like a fantasy that he’s half-tempted to pinch himself to test if he’s dreaming or if this is just a wet dream come true. “Can I touch you?” Jisung asks. His eyes are a little wide still, but he sounds so much more confident.

“Please,” you answer, and that’s all it takes for his hands to roam your body.

Jisung’s fingers move gracefully yet like the wild, untamable waver of a flame. As his fingers pull your top above your head, you can’t help but gaze at his fingers, long and bony. Fuck, you can only imagine the places they could reach, and you’re not too proud to say you’ve thought about it on more than one occasion. Because of your willingness to push it away though, the thought hasn’t ever bloomed into a full-on fantasy. Not until now, of course. This time however, you’re finding it perfectly acceptable to wonder.

He struggles to unclasp your bra though, earning a chorus of laughs from you and your boyfriend. But upon seeing Jisung’s flushed face, you try and teach him, with Haechan helping do a perfect demonstration.

Once Jisung thinks he has the hang of it, he says, “Put it back on.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “For what?”

“I want to see if I can do it,” he replies, making you and your boyfriend both scoff. But you indeed put the bra back on, and he successfully takes it off with a dramatic decrease in effort.

You nod in approval, “Good job.”

Jisung realizes he loves being praised by you. And in that same moment, he realizes that there isn’t much he won’t do to satisfy you so that he can hear you praise him some more.

He sucks your nipple into his mouth, fingers fiddling with your other one so that it wouldn’t be neglected. When Haechan talked down on Jisung for being a virgin, it made you think that you would have to teach him everything. But it seems like he’s done his research, because he knows a thing or two. That or he’s just naturally good.

“Shit,” you gasp, “Feels so good, Sungie.”

The look on your face tells him everything. You’re genuinely enjoying this, lips parted as you continue to moan little by little. If Jisung wasn’t hard before, he definitely is now. Something about your moans is severely intoxicating, and being able to hear them, seeing how you look when you moan in person is just on another level that the computer screen doesn’t compare to. It simply doesn’t do you justice.

You’re quickly becoming very needy and impatient. Jisung can feel Haechan’s eyes biting into his skin, silently waiting for the right moment to open his mouth, so Jisung decides not to make any advances on his own in dread of setting your boyfriend off. You on the other hand need him to pick up the pace, so you make the advance for him, picking up him free hand by the wrist and sticking it down your shorts. “Touch me,” you beg him with your mouth and eyes, “Please.”

He looks at Haechan, but surprisingly he’s nodding, urging him on. So Jisung complies, fighting the pitter-patter of his heart against his chest as he rubs you through your panties. You’re wet, he knows that much. Really fucking wet. It turns him on to think that he’s the root of it all, the reason why you’re soaking your underwear, especially because he’s wanted to touch you there for so long. He wonders how long it’ll be before he gets to touch you directly, without some flimsy fabric in the way of all the good stuff.

Lust blinding the two of you results in things to escalate somewhat quickly. It started with Jisung rubbing you through your panties, then you begging him for skin on skin contact, and then a complete change of positions after he hungrily takes off your shorts, finger fucking you as you eventually asked with your back flat against the mattress.

“Pay attention to the angle,” Haechan advises. “You can’t just shove your fingers in her and hope for the best. And don’t let having longer fingers get to your head, it’s pointless if you don’t know how to use them. Same with your dick.”

“I know that,” Jisung hisses. “Just because I’m new to this doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

“Just being careful, Ji. You’d be surprised how many people don’t know that. If you’re gonna fuck my girlfriend, I gotta at least make sure you’re doing it right,” you’re almost completely tuned out of the conversation, only picking up on bits of pieces as you’re too concentrated on the way Jisung’s fingers plunge in and out of you, coated in your arousal. “And pay attention to her body, it’ll tell you everything you need to know. See what makes her moan, squirm, beg—all that good stuff—and what doesn’t.”

If Haechan has you muffling screams when you fuck every other night, then Jisung’s sure he knows what he’s talking about, so he silently takes his advice. You seem to be enjoying this, and he wonders how he can take it further, how he can find out where you’re sensitive.

He decides to explore, not exactly letting his fingers run wild but experimenting here and there until he finds the spot. And when you cry out a little suddenly, he’s sure he’s found it. “Fuck,” you cry out in bliss, “Right there, Jisung, god.”

His fingers continue to hit you there, and he tries to burn the spot into his memory. It’s uncertain if he’ll ever get this opportunity again—and that’s when he realizes he should make sure this experience is as pleasurable as possible, just in case this is a once in a lifetime thing—but he wants to remember for safe measure.

For some reason, Jisung has the urge to look at Haechan again, so he does, and sees the man mouthing the words, Pull out.

Jisung is utterly confused. He mouths back, Why?

Just do it, Haechan says.

It takes Jisung a little. He’s reluctant. After all, one look at your face tells him that you’re all blissed out, and he thinks you’re pretty close. So why would he pull his fingers away? The point is to please you, isn’t it? Though not wanting to mess up, he hesitantly does as told.

“Jisung,” you whine when you’re suddenly empty, and Jisung hates it. He wants you to say his name in pleasure, in satisfaction, not like this.

“Haechan told me to!” He defends himself quickly.

“I did,” Haechan unabashedly confirms. “Don’t let her cum yet, making her wait is part of the fun and makes her want you more. Just get her wet enough so that you can fuck her good.”

“I did,” Haechan unabashedly confirms. “Don’t let her cum yet, making her wait is part of the fun and makes her want you more. Just get her wet enough so that you can fuck her good.”

Figuring that you’re wet enough, he turns to look at you. “Can I… can I fuck you?”

“Yes,” you’re literally about to beg, you’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like an eternity, “please do, I can’t wait anymore. Need you so bad, Sungie.”

Jisung feels like he’s out of his mind. A part of him still refuses to believe that this is real, that this is actually happening. That instead of being mad at him for invading your privacy, you’re here begging for him to fuck you. He’s not sure what’s more surprising, the fact that you want to fuck him or the fact that Haechan is allowing this to happen, even telling him what to do to please you. You’re begging for him. You’re spreading your legs for him. You’re wet—all for him. It crosses his mind that maybe this isn’t a good idea, but with those three things considered, he can’t bring himself to care anymore. Haechan doesn’t care that he’s fucking his girlfriend, you don’t even care that he’s fucking you, so why should he?

Jisung drops his pants and lets his boxers hit the ground. There’s nothing holding him back anymore, not when he sees you gawking at him (unlike Haechan, he leans more to the lengthy side rather than girthy, though as long as he follows Haechan’s instructions you’re sure you’ll both be fine). It gives him a little ego boost.

“Condom?” He asks.

“You don’t have to use one,” you say, nearly making Jisung’s jaw drop, “just hurry up, please.”

What comes over him as he slides into you is beyond him, but the process is effortless and he just skates in. “Fuck,” he grunts, needing time for himself before he can even move. He’s barely moved an inch, but he can tell the real thing is a billion times better than his palm.

“Start slow,” Haechan says. “You’ve made her want it, but most importantly, you have to make her need it. Make her beg for you to pick up the pace, and then go faster. Not too fast, but not too slow, either.”

Jisung complies, drawing it out a little. With the way you feel around him it’s difficult to resist moving around freely, but then he remembers what he was thinking about making this as pleasure as possible for the two of you and decides it’s worth the wait. Something tells him to grip your waist so he does, his fingers dipping around your hips, and in return you let your hands fly to the empty space on his back.

You’re crying out in pleasure, need, yearning—all of the above. You probably should have expected Haechan to descend his teasing ways onto Jisung. He’s ever so slowly stretching you out, not pushing his whole size into you, but gently wedging it inside bit by bit at an agonizingly slow pace. It’s useful preparation, but once most of his length is sliding in and out of you so leisurely, your patience has ran significantly thin.

“Faster, Jisung. Please,” there’s tears pricking your eyes, and he hasn’t even really done anything yet, “want—no, I need you to fuck me so much.”

“How much?” He asks, catching everyone in the room, including himself, off-guard a little bit, but he doesn’t back down.

“It fucking hurts,” nothing but desperacy fills your tone when you whimper. Luckily enough you’re used to this tormenting treatment from your boyfriend, so you have a couple tricks up your sleeve. “Don’t you want it too, Sungie? You said it yourself that you think about this. Don’t you wanna make your dreams come true?”

Jisung grunts and caves in, allowing himself to move a little faster. He’s honestly tired of torturing you and himself.

“I’m almost impressed,” Haechan begins, nearly startling Jisung as his presence for once almost goes forgotten. It feels a little unnerving to Jisung that he’s been watching so closely, but he refuses to let that get in the way of fucking you. “Keep it up. Talk to her. Definitely not too much to point where’s it gets annoying, but not too little to the point where it’s awkward. Make observations, compliment her, ask her shit like you just did.”

Jisung simply nods in understanding, not bothering to drop some bitter reply. He’s too focused on you, on how you look, on how you feel, and he wonders if he’ll ever have the opportunity to see how you taste. He’s never ate anyone out before, but he thinks that your pussy is so pretty that there’s a first time for everything.

Meanwhile, you’re lost in the realm that is pleasure, savoring the way his dick inches in and out of you, filling you to the brim, slipping out, then pushing back inward. It’s hard to believe Jisung’s winging this—he has to have really been paying attention because he’s so fucking good at this, tip so far kissing all the right places. You like the way he holds your hips, so firm and secure like you’re precious and he’s afraid of shattering you (even though you wouldn’t mind if he did.)

From beside you your boyfriend is groaning, and that’s when you think to shift your gaze in his direction, realizing he’s finally stripped his lower body. His dick is in his palm, tall and erect, and you’re impressed that he’s gone this long without touching himself—or most surprisingly you. As much as Haechan likes to talk down on Jisung for being horny, he can’t blame him because he’s the exact same. Worse, even, especially for you.

“Touch her,” even in this state, Haechan still has pointers to offer, “Anywhere she’s sensitive for extra stimulation. Rub her clit—if you know where it is. Or what it is. Do you even know what that is, Jisung?”

“Yes, I know what it is, Haechan,” As if to prove his point, Jisung drops his hand down to your cunt. If you thought the way his fingers accidentally brushed against you was amazing, you were no where near prepared for the feeling of them toying with your clit. “Right here.”

“Oh, g-god, Jisung,” you stammer out, rocking your hips onto his hand. “More, please. I want more,” he’s quick to obey, applying pleasure to your clit while his fingers softly kiss your cunt in the same motion. “Just like that!”

Some moments pass, all actions consistent though Jisung isn’t sure how much longer he can keep this up. He’s having this fuzzy, trance-like feeling, where everything seems like nothing greater than his imagination. The only reason he knows he’s not dreaming is because of the way you feel around him. It’s like pinching himself, except this is pleasurable. Your bare walls are warm, tight, and wet as ever around him, and he knew from the moment he slid in you that he wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight.

That video doesn’t compare to this. His fist doesn’t compare to this. He can’t describe it, not with one-hundred percent accuracy, because absolutely no other feeling in the world compares to this. You look so fucked out beneath him, bliss spelt out across your face, and he’s proud that he’s the reason why. He had always known that he could do this with a little help, that he was fully capable of satisfying you. He just never thought that he’d ever be given the chance.

“Shit, y/n. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moans, the deepness of his voice driving you closer to the edge. You’ve always found it hot, but it’s more extreme with his dick inside you.

Close, I’m close,” you moan, feeling the tightening in your stomach, “are you gonna cum?”

“Shit, y-yeah. Gonna cum. Can I—”

Picking up on what he’s asking before he even has to chance to state it himself, you say, responding a little over-eagerly, “Yes, fuck, cum in me. Please don’t pull out.”

You’re seeing stars, you swear. Bright white twinkling ones that cloud your vision as you cum, digging your nails into Jisung’s back. It helps that he’s rubbing you in your most sensitive area, fucking you so perfectly, and that Haechan’s sweet moans are audible beside you. You aren’t sure who cums first between the three of you, but you do know his cum is leaking from your cunt after his hips stutter to a stop, and he can’t help but fill you with a load of white.

It takes you a long while to collect your breath. But afterwards your boyfriend swoops you into his arms, placing you in his care once the deed is done. “Last pointer,” he says, “always check up on the person you’re fucking. Good aftercare is extremely important after sex.”

“Are you okay?” Jisung asks, and you find it cute how his eyes look so filled with concern.

“Seriously never been better,” you manage to respond through heavy breaths. “Haechan, can you join us next time?”

Haechan looks repulsed by the idea. “Who said there was going to be a next time?” This saddens you considerably, and Jisung too, but he does a better job at concealing it. “You did good, Jisung. Hope you find your own person to use your new skills on. C’mon babe, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You follow your boyfriend into the bathroom, and Jisung sees himself out. At least he has new material to jack off to, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t feel you again. You’re just too good to give away, so he understands why Haechan is so determined to keep you to himself.

But fuck, you’re too sweet to let go of.

“Ever heard the phrase sex is a remedy?”

“No.”

“That’s because I just made it up,” Haechan grins, and you roll your eyes consequently.

It proves true in some circumstances, you’ll give him that. Prime example: Jisung. Ever since that day, things between you have cooled. He started sitting next to you during movie nights again, even going as far putting his head in your lap (much to Haechan’s annoyance), actually talks to you, and looks at you (maybe a little too much.)

Yet surprisingly, he doesn’t seem that bashful anymore. It isn’t like he’s ever been the type to shy away, though this is next-level. No more shy waves or meek hello’s. No more weak eye contact. No more hesitance in touching you, despite him potentially being able to piss your boyfriend off. He’s so relaxed, so calm and so certain of his actions, and you kind of like it. There’s a chance the sex got to his head a little, but perhaps it was a push in the right direction and plus, you find confidence very sexy.

But you push these thoughts away as fast as they come. Whatever you had with Jisung is done, it can’t happen again. You all had your fun, now it’s time to let it go.

You pout, “Why are you leaving me alone for so long? I’m gonna miss you.”

Haechan’s going out with some of the guys to handle what he titles manly affairs. If you didn’t know any better you’d say that probably translates to I’m going somewhere to play video games, but you saw Jeno in his gym shorts. They’re definitely about to go hit the gym.

“Relax, I’m going to be back in a couple of hours and you aren’t alone—Renjun and Jisung will still be here to keep you company. Speaking of which, Renjun said that if you keep treating this like a second home he’s gonna start making you split the rent with us,” your boyfriend snickers.

“I was joking!” Renjun shouts from the hall, coincidentally walking down at the same time you happen to be talking about him.

“I think Renjun should mind his own business,” you say, and he rolls his eyes prior to stepping inside the bathroom. “And why aren’t they going with the rest of you?”

“Won rock paper scissors,” Haechan mutters, “but back to what I was saying about sex being a remedy, I promise I’ll make you cum at least three times when I get back.”

“Why three?”

“Because I don’t think you can handle four,” your boyfriend kisses you on the lips for a second so short it feels unreal, and you’re torn between focusing on that or informing him that he sounds like that one Reese’s commercial, “but I gotta go. See you later, babe, love you!”

“I love you more!”

“No, I love you mo—wait. I see what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work,” he catches on, earning a gloomy frown from you. At least you tried. “Now goodbye, I love you most!”

“No, I—” before you can even chuck out half your sentence, the door is rudely shut in your face.

You huff. He cheated.

Alas, you’re left alone. Flopping down onto the couch, you consider that Renjun’s probably right about you overstaying your welcome, though it isn’t like you’re here all day every day. Two days a week at most. You have your own lovely apartment free of men that fight over video games and superior pizza toppings. Speaking of men, you’re tempted to go annoy Renjun in order to pass the time, but then Jisung creeps from the shadows of his room and you’re suddenly no longer interested in the former.

“Sungie!”

You don’t seem to notice the look on his face when you call him that, and even if you did, you wouldn’t have been able to make out what it meant. It’s fleeting, gone before it’s ever really there. Jisung covers it up with a smile, though can’t help but feel the nickname has an entirely different feeling. It used to be cute—innocent and sweet. But then he heard you begging for him and that changed his perception of the word forever.

He figures that he should probably let it go, though. It happened almost a week ago, the sex. It was fun, he knows that. All parties enjoyed it, he knows that too, but he also knows that Haechan would never let it happen again. Hell, he’s still surprised that he let it happen a first time.

“Y/n,” he smiles cheerily, joining you on the couch. You sit upright to make room for him. “you’re here while Haechan’s not?”

“Oh, yeah. All my clothes that I have here are dirty so I’m waiting for them to finish washing and drying,” you explain, Jisung listening and nodding understandingly, “I also don’t feel like driving.”

Jisung laughs, “I can’t drive so I’d be zero help with that, but I can help with your laundry. Do you need any assistance?”

“I’m good,” you shake your head. “Thanks, though.”

Jisung nods. “Cool.”

“Cool.”

You both know shit is anything but cool. And if you’re being completely honest, the silence that fills the room is a tad bit awkward. You’re sure you’re both thinking the same thing, though neither of you want to say it. However, there’s a major difference between a want and a need.

“We need to address the elephant in the room,” he initiates.

You sigh—in relief or not, Jisung can’t tell. “So I’m not the only one who realized.”

So, maybe your analogy was slightly wrong. Maybe sex wasn’t a perfect remedy for your Jisung situation. Or maybe Haechan’s made-up saying needs some clarification: sex is a temporary remedy, that eventually subsides into a plethora of other problems.

False advertisement.

“Yeah,” Jisung chews at his lip, “it’s been gnawing at me for a while. I mean, I get that it was supposed to be a one-time thing, but I can’t be the only one that’s having trouble forgetting.”

He isn’t, much to your misfortune, and it’s been gnawing at you. It’s even worse since Haechan hasn’t acknowledged that day since it happened, and you don’t have it in you to bring it up this time. You know he’s down to try lots of things, though at some point there’s a line you know better than to cross.

Yet the lingering memory is still tattooed onto your brain, and you can’t simply forget how wonderful it felt for Jisung to touch you; how good and deep he felt inside you; how perfectly his fingers felt on your clit; how blissful you felt when you came in his embrace. It doesn’t help that Jisung is impossibly attractive, and you can’t help but want to do things to him, or let him do things to you—you couldn’t care less.

“No, me too,” this time it’s you struggling to hold eye contact, opting to look down, “but Haechan already has, and is it really worth going behind his back?”

Jisung pokes his cheek. “I know. We don’t have to act on it, I just wanted to get it off my chest.”

“Okay.” You look up at him again. He’s still looking at you, unfaltering. “Wanna watch a movie with me?”

He nods a little. “Yeah. Sure.”

Fetching the remote, you open Netflix under Chenle’s account (poor him. The cons of sucking at GamePigeon 8ball.) and select a movie. It’s nothing spectacular, but holds your attention fairly well for a while. Nothing new seemingly happens with Jisung—he’s not on your lap, though still touchy, replacing his head with his hand as he lies his head on your shoulder. It shouldn’t bother you but it does, goosebumps breaking out on your skin. As if things couldn’t get any worse, your body refuses to listen to your brain, allowing itself to look at his hands as your brain shouts at it not to. With the sight of his fingers planted firmly into your brain, showering little seeds, it’s impossible to forget those six days ago. Even if you try and push the memory away, it’s helpless. Your body remembers, and doesn’t want to forget.

His slender fingers plunging inside you is all you can think about. You shut your eyes, yet the image burns into your eyelids. You open them again, yet it’s still there, fueled more by sight of his fingers close to you. It doesn’t help that they’re dangerously close to the inside of your thighs, the proximity making you sweat.

“Are we gonna pretend you don’t want me to finger you right now?”

His voice startles you. Jisung knows you think he hasn’t caught you, but he does—he did. It’s impossible to ignore the burn of your stare.

Fuck, when did he get so bold? “Jisung,” you whine, already sensing this is going to head in a direction you simultaneously do and don’t wish for it to.

“I want to do the right thing, I really do, but it isn’t easy knowing you want me, I want you, and we’re not doing anything about it,” he’s slowly rubbing circles onto your thigh, which is significantly bare since you’re in un-lengthy Dolphin shorts, “can’t we do it one more time? Fuck it out?”

“You and I both know that if we do it again this won’t be the last time,” you say.

He doesn’t look half-bothered by the idea. “That’s not something we have to worry about right now though, right?”

Fuck.

You know better than to give in like this, but it’s much too late the moment he sneaks you inside his room and lies you flat on his bed. You also know that you could stop at any time you wish, but as terrible as it sounds, you don’t want to stop. It’s basically been said that you’ll deal with the consequences later, letting impulsivity win.

“Can I taste you?” His voices sounds so hot when he says this. You can’t help but nod, allowing himself to have his way with you.

Jisung tugs down your shorts in fervor, your panties following suit and meeting one another in a growing pile on the floor. He’s seen it before, though he can’t help but gawk at the sight your cunt, dripping with arousal and he’s hardly even touched you. You’re so pretty to him that he can’t help but run a finger through your folds, spurred on further when you gasp aloud.

“Never done this before,” he says, yet he sounds ready as ever, “so tell me what to do.”

Impatiently, you nod. “Just go with the flow and I’ll help you from there.”

Your eager motion and the way you buck your hips up is more than enough to signal to Jisung that you’re ready. He takes it as you giving him the green light to begin, tongue experimentally prodding against your folds. It’s like all his hesitance dissipates the moment he gets a hold of you, as though the mere taste of you has put a spell on him that he can’t wake up from. He isn’t sure what comes over him in this moment, though he knows that he wants to savor it—the taste, the feeling, the craving. A single taste of you is enough to fill him with greed and then he’s eating you out like he just can’t get enough of you, as though there’s a burning fervor coursing through his veins that can’t be ceased.

“Sungie,” you cry. It’s been a couple of days since you’ve been given head and you’d consider that a while, so the relief is extra phenomenal. You’re sure that even if it had been yesterday, you’d be just as weak to his touch.

Then, so torturously, he pulls away. Before you can complain, Jisung shushes you. “I’m sorry, but you have to be quiet. Renjun’s here.”

Your eyes widen slightly. You had honestly completely forgotten about the other, though fortunately, this isn’t your first rodeo. If there’s anything sneaking around in the middle of the night with Haechan has taught you, it’s how to be quiet. The only reason Jisung’s overheard you is because his room happens to be directly next to the one that your boyfriend owns.

“I can be quiet,” you murmur.

Jisung scoffs. “Sure, you can.”

Affronted, you’re inclined to protest, until Jisung’s lips meet your pussy again and you’re silenced, digging your teeth into your bottom lip to muffle any potential sounds you might make. He picks up again, listening with super-sense to the quiet moans you utter as you’re unable to hold all of the volume in. It helps him apply his knowledge, playing close mind to what garners pleased reactions from you and your body.

His tongue skirts around, and he gets the wonderful idea to target your clit. The moment the muscle swirls it’s way there, you know that staying quiet is gonna be more difficult than you thought. Your lips nearly shudder shut and he pushes them open, his grip firm as he spreads you apart ever so gently.

“G-good, feels so good,” you moan softly, careful to lower your volume, “you’re doing so well.”

Jisung’s tongue is anything but gentle, however. Spurred on, he darts his tongue like it knows magical spells of it’s own, putting one on you that you fall deeper into with every stroke. The pressure feels amazing, and you can practically feel your heartbeat between your thighs. It’s honestly admirable how quick of a learner he is, paying full attention to how your body responds to his touch and solely acting on that. No previous experiences, just you and his intuition.

You really don’t have to tell him what to do. If there’s any question, you naturally give him the perfect answer. When you moan, when you whimper, when you beg. When your thighs quiver and your hips buck up in greed, it’s all a telltale signal of arousal, perfect sign of pleasure. In the moment, your fingers reach for his hair, threading through his locks and drawing him closer to you desperately. You want to feel this to the maximum, until you quite literally are numb.

It’s a miracle that you’re far from numb right now though, feeling every lap. He’s making you feel so good and it’s so hard to stay silent to the point where you’re contemplating stuffing your fist in your mouth. If Jisung was extra nosy, he would have seen another video of you and Haechan on his MacBook, a video of Haechan eating you out while everyone else was seemingly asleep. You wonder if Jisung was listening in that night, if he heard your muffled sounds after Haechan stuffed your mouth with your panties. Gosh, you aren’t sure why the thought of him hearing you in such lewd ways still arouses you. You just know that you want him to have you, you want to pry into his mind and carry out every fantasy he’s ever imagined as he got off to the sound of you.

If this was amazing, you don’t think that there’s an accurate word in the dictionary to describe the feeling of what Jisung does next. He presses his tongue inside you, his hand replacing his mouth as he simultaneously plays with your clit. Your whole body feels hot now, like piece by piece, you’re being consumed by fire.

Between watching you struggle to conceal your moans, and the way your face scrunched in pleasure as you do, he doesn’t know what’s hotter. He could do this forever if it meant seeing you break on his tongue like this. Hastily your resolve is cracking, and he knows he could have you wrapped around his finger. In fact, he thinks he probably already does. It may be wrong, though it’s only fair since you’ve had him wrapped around yours since the moment he met you.

Then he notices something—your moans are getting louder, your thighs are quaking more, and overall you look so much more blissed out. That could mean only one thing: you’re close. He knows he doesn’t have to, but he pulls away.

“Jisung!” if it wasn’t for the fact that Renjun was home, you think that you’d probably scream your lungs off. You’re also beginning to think that Haechan influencing Jisung was a bad decision. “You know that you don’t have to edge me, right? Like, even if I cum from foreplay, you can make me cum again.”

“I know,” he smiles, licking your juices off his mouth, “but I wanted to.”

Scratch that. It was a horrible decision. Now, Jisung’s equally as much of a sadistic piece of shit as Haechan.

Before you can whine, he says, “But I’ll make it up to you, if you let me,” he starts palming you with his hand, earning these little moans from you. Then he looks at you, with that pretty gleam in his eye that makes you want to fuck the shit out of him. “Will you let me?”

Ultimately, you let him. It didn’t take much for you to cave in—he had already given you head, aroused you yet refused to let you cum, so now you’re desperate for an orgasm. Plus, this has already gone too far. It might’ve not done any wrong to stop things from going any further, yet it isn’t like it would do any good, either. You’re in too deep, once you’ve started you can’t stop.

Jisung undresses you, showing you that he remembers how to unclasp a bra, and then he undresses himself. The sight of your naked body isn’t foreign to him anymore, yet he’ll still continue to marvel as though it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Fuck that—it is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“I wanna ride you,” you say, snapping him out of his daze.

He blinks dumbly. “Huh?”

Gently, you push him onto his back. “I wanna ride you,” his eyes are on you, watching you with a lustful shadow dimming his eyes. “Are you gonna let me?”

“You can do whatever you want with me,” he tells you, gaze never once leaving yours.

Fuck, he’s so damn hot.

You straddle him, and once your knees are on either side of him you sink onto his dick, a sound of relief being drawn from both of you. Instantly you feel so full, yet that doesn’t stop the need built up inside you from yelling for a release. You allow yourself to adjust all over again before you start really moving, grinding onto him.

The stretch almost makes it feel like you’ve never been here before but you take it, fingers clutching his shoulders for leverage as his arms anchor around your waist, keeping you in close proximity. You’ve allowed him to go in bare again so the feeling is as raw as it was the first time around, yet Jisung still doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. How your walls tighten around his dick, how the wet squelch of your cunt sounds when he enters you. It’s fucking mesmerizing—you’re fucking mesmerizing, and he’s happy to have you all to himself even if it’s for a moment.

“How does it feel, Sungie?” You ask, already having your answer when you look at his face.

The same way Jisung can see through you, he’s like glass to you, a mirror even. He’s beautiful beneath you, face scrunched up in pleasure, and the tightening grip on your waist is a crystal clear sign that he’s enjoying this. It’s entertaining hearing him trying not to moan, his sounds muffled as deep little grunts that you’re sure he’s oblivious of how fucking sexy they are. In contrast you can’t stop thinking about what lives rent-free in your mind, wishing you could be louder so that you’d hear the full extent of his beautiful sounds.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, surprising yet pleasing you. If he keeps up the sexy noises, you’re going to cum hard.

You smile, “All for you.”

In this particular moment, it is all for him, and that’s enough for him. He likes that he’s able to get you wet, he likes that he turns you on, he likes that you want him, he likes that he has so much control and influence over your body. And you like when he treats you like you’re his.

Jisung also enjoys watching you fuck yourself on him, ever so desperately chasing your orgasm. He hates denying you it, but that unfortunately doesn’t make Haechan any less right. It is a part of the fun because it makes you needier, and there’s nothing he loves more than seeing you all delicate and fragile, so greedy for his touch. And in your determination to cum, you’re using his shoulders to hold yourself together as your pussy swallows his dick. He knows it’s going to be a sight when you actually do cum, to see you fall apart on top of him as you finally reach your climax.

His gaze lingering on your body, Jisung suddenly feels the urge to touch you. You’re so beautiful all over, it’s only right that he appreciates every aspect of your body equally. Slowly, he drags his hands up from your waist to your breast, fundling with your breast. His fingers graze over your nipples and when you gasp, he can’t contain his smile. You’re so sensitive there, it’s so fun to mess with you simply to see you react.

“Your body’s so beautiful,” he’s really just thinking aloud at this point, but you enjoy the compliment, especially as you notice the in-awe gleam in his eyes. He looks like he’s seen you pluck a star from the sky, or summon the moon with your palm.

That’s when he gets an idea. One he’s always daydreamed about, yet never thought to ask you until now, when he’s thinking of all the ways to show your body love. “Is it okay if I kiss you? Not on the lips, but your skin.”

He thinks it sounds weird to ask, but you’re delighted by the question. “Y-yeah,” you answer mid-moan, and you can feel his dick twitching inside you, “just don’t bite or suck or do anything that’ll leave a trail and make marks.”

He hadn’t even thought about marking you, though now that you mention it, he really wishes he had the chance. He’s ignored the faint ones that linger on your body from your boyfriend, fading blotches of color. Instead, he does what he can, delivering little kisses to your skin. It starts from the valley of your breast, and slowly yet steadily falls down.

Jisung notices your breath getting shallower when you kiss him. When he passes by your breast, he makes sure to flick at your nipples with his tongue, driving an unsuspecting mewl from you. His kisses leave a hot sensation all over your body, like some kind of Midas Touch where everything he touches feel like fire. It’s a kind of fire you don’t want to be put out, that you want to let it’s flames eat at you and burn you. That’s exactly what Jisung’s touch does, and it’s driving you crazy. You don’t know how long you can keep this up before you have to let go.

You’re fucking yourself onto him at a steady rhythm, biting your lip profusely as you rock yourself against him, finding the spot that drives you to insanity. You look so fucked out but Jisung’s not any better, struggling just as much as you are to keep your sounds in. He’s so vocal, and you’d appreciate it more if it weren’t for Renjun being only some yards away.

You think of the perfect way to shush him, leaning in to crash your lips against his. With your eyes shut, you miss the way his go wide, yet he lets your mouth guide him and sinks his hands back around your waist. After all, he did say that you could do whatever you wanted with him.

Once you’ve confirmed he’s not backing away, you shift your hands from his shoulders to his hair, carding your fingers through there and drawing him closer this way. A particular movement causes him to moan in your mouth, and by then you feel beyond ecstatic. You feel high off of the pleasure, senses heightened and everything around you seems to slow. It’s a beautiful moment, filled with heavy breath and low moans, and you wonder if he feels the same.

Jisung pulls away, panting, “I’m not going to last.”

You guess that gives you your answer, because you’re so in sync, your body’s mirroring one another.

“Me neither. Fill me up, Sungie. Please.”

You’re clenching around him repeatedly, and he’s sure that’s what triggers his orgasm. That’s when Jisung meets his breaking point, biting his lip as his cum shoots inside you, yet you’re still close enough to hear the deep sound of his perfect groans. He recalls thinking that having you like this one tike would be enough for him to move on from you, but he’s onto his second and it’s already been somewhat established that there’s plenty more where this comes from. You just feel too good, more than he could have ever imagined.

The way you draw his name when you cum, clutching onto him so tightly as you work your way through his orgasm before leaning against his shoulders, it’s enough to spur him on once more. He’s realizing that he could seriously do this forever—you’re that addicting.

“Are you okay?” He asks through heavy breathing, holding you to his chest.

“I’m good,” you sigh, satisfied. “Thighs are kinda sore, but I’m good. What about you?”

Jisung rubs your thighs gently, but replies honestly, “I want to go again.”

You’re honestly astonished. You already knew that this wouldn’t be the last time, however you also didn’t expect the third to be so soon. You’ve hardly relaxed from this round, and the ache in your thighs is screaming at you to slow it down.

“My thighs ache, Jisung,” you laugh.

He pushes you onto your back, moving his head between your legs again and kissing softly at your thighs. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispers between kisses. “If you let me,” he gazes up at you, meeting your eyes. “Will you let me?”

In that moment, you feel purely hypnotized by him. Something tells you that this is a bad idea and that it’s getting out of hand, but it’s been that way since the moment this begun. You know it sounds corny, but though it’s wrong, you can’t stop this from feeling so fucking right.

And in that same moment, you realize that you’ll also let him do whatever he wants with you.

Sneaking around with Jisung becomes routine.

It’s like you two just can’t get enough of each other, drawn to the other’s body as though there’s some magnetic force between you, as though he’s a moth and you’re his flame.

When everyone’s back is turned, you find time to one another. Sometimes when the guys go away. Sometimes when they’re all asleep. Sometimes you even invite him over to the solace of your home, with no roommates, no one like you who uses the WiFi and the Netflix without paying even a quarter of a bill. Him and you. No more, no less.

Times such as now. Times when he has you backed against your front door as soon as he steps inside your apartment, out of sheer desperation. It isn’t always like this, sometimes you take turns taking control. Sometimes you fight for it until the other submits. Sometimes you’re so desperate for each other that neither of you can even think to care about control, just submitting to the desire in your bodies.

“Missed you, too,” you take his eager actions as a non-verbal way of saying I missed you. You gasp when he doesn’t respond, just pressing his lips to your skin. He doesn’t suck or bite, God knows he wants to though he knows better, but shows love to your body as he slides your shirt off.

It’s been longer than it usually is since the last time you’ve seen him, so he has every right to behave like a touch-starved virgin again. “God, I really fucking missed you,” he grumbles in your ear, cupping your chest. You bet he does. The reason you haven’t met up until now is because you two haven’t had the opportunity. It’s either the guy’s have been around more often, you’re prioritizing Haechan, or one of you are too busy and burdened with work to find time.

Speaking of your boyfriend, you don’t think he’s entirely clueless.

It isn’t like either of you are stupid enough to downright stick a hand down the other’s pants, however you’re still too touchy. Your fingers soothe through Jisung’s hair as his head lies in your lap, or his hand rests near the danger-zone of your thigh.

Haechan hasn’t brought this up, though you still feel the sting of his stare and it burns mightily. As a solution, you’ve come to the agreement to keep the contact to a minimum as long as he’s around, and use your place more often so that you aren’t starving each other of touch completely. It’s a solid plan. Haechan visits your place occasionally though not nearly as much as you visit the dorms, so you figure you two should be safe.

“Do you?” Jisung nods, not missing a beat and staring you down with the most hungry eyes. “Then show me, Sungie. Prove it.”

That’s all it takes for him to lead you to the couch and fuck you until you can’t even think — however if you could, you’d think that you honestly can’t handle it anymore.

There’s been times where you’ve almost been caught. Most recently, during the middle of the night the last time you stayed the night at the dorms. You decided to meet Jisung in his room for a quickie, slithering out of your boyfriend’s grasp and tiptoeing down the halls, thanking god that Haechan’s a heavy sleeper.

The minute you hooked your hand on his doorknob, you were given the scare of your life by no other than Huang Renjun (you swear, he’s always in the hallway at the most inconvenient of times ever.)

“What are you doing?”

You jumped. High as a Kangaroo. Turning to see who had caught you, you nearly let out a relieved breath when you realized it wasn’t Haechan. Then you realized it was Renjun, and all the panic in you resurfaced like clockwork.

Luckily, your lying skills are nothing short of impeccable because you follow one simple rule: don’t lie more than you have to.

“Going into Jisung’s room,” you answer honestly.

Renjun quirked his eyebrow. “In the middle of the night? Isn’t he asleep?”

“Oh, you know how he is. Afraid of everything under the sun, and he texted me that he had a bad nightmare so I volunteered to be his human teddy bear until he falls asleep.”

“Typical,” Renjun snorted, but he looked more convinced than you thought he would. “Good night, then. And tell him I said to grow up.”

Putting forward your best, oscar-worthy laugh, you told him goodnight back as he slipped away to his room, and you finally entered Jisung’s, shutting the door behind you and trying desperately hard not to laugh as you saw his face.

He frowned, “Scared of everything under the sun? Human teddy bear? Seriously?”

“You should be grateful that my oscar-worthy performance kept us from being found out,” you replied as you walked to his bed. It wasn’t unrealistic, Jisung doesn’t have nightmares as much as he used to anymore, though he’s certainly a scaredy-cat. You have no idea how he found the balls to sneak around with you. “Actually, I think I deserve a reward.”

Jisung pulled your shorts down your ankles, “You think so?”

“I do,” you smiled.

“Then,” Jisung paused to kiss you, addicted to the feeling of your lips ever since you first pressed them against his. It was a craving he didn’t even know he had until you gave him a taste. “Let me reward you.”

“This isn’t gonna be a quickie, is it?”

“Bet me,” he said, a little smirk on his lips that he slightly tried to hide. “How fast you think I can make you cum.”

He’s insane. That’s the conclusion you’d drawn from every moment you’ve spent naked beside him. You can’t deny it though, you like it, even if it’s a little dangerous and very unwise.

You furrowed your brows, “Bet? Like, money? Or orgasms?”

An even better currency in mind, Jisung shook his head. “Rounds.”

You knew what that meant. Jisung wanted you to himself. He was never satisfied with only one round — even if it meant overstimulating himself, he was desperate to have you until neither of you could continue, sore and exhausted from the work.

“Fine,” you agreed. “Six minutes. If you can’t, you get one round. If you can, then gosh, you deserve as many rounds as you want.”

To be honest, you never pay much attention to how fast he makes you cum, too caught up in the moment to even consider the amount of time you’d spent in that way, skin on skin, body to body. So the only person you’re sure has made you cum in six minutes or less is Haechan, because you explicitly remember him setting a timer to prove himself to you.

In spite of all that, Jisung looked confident. He passed you his iPhone and shifted to your bottom half, pushing your thighs open. “I’m ready when you are.”

Nodding, you set the clock.

Long story short, Jisung had as much fun as he wanted with you that night.

You’ve also been setting precautions. If it’s too risky for you to see each other in person, then you settle for exchanging nudes and things alike.

The first time it happened, you hadn’t actually intended for it to. It was more of a joke, you were texting each other and you playfully suggested that Jisung should send you a video of his own as reparations for his snooping. When he didn’t respond for a while you had your suspensions, but you didn’t think he’d actually hit you back with a video of himself, stroking his dick and moaning your name with a tremble in his voice.

In that moment you were given an idea of what it was like when he got off to your moans in another room, how he sounded and not so much how he looked since the focus was never really on his face, but you’ve seen his blissed-out expressions enough to come up with it on your own. It turned you on, enough to make you send back a video of your own, and from that day on it became a bad habit of yours to exchange explicit images and videos whenever you were separated.

It’s so late at night yet so early in the morning when the text hits your phone, I need you.

He caught you at a good time. Feeling hot and bothered yourself, you were honestly about to fetch your vibrator from it’s hiding spot in your closet because you knew your boyfriend had fallen asleep and assumed that Jisung had as well, at least until he texted you.

How bad is it? You send back, instead choosing to lie back on your bed, resting on your stomach as you wait for the typing bubble to transform into some type of message.

This bad. The attachment makes you bite your lip after he sends it. Sometimes when Jisung sends nudes of himself he isn’t very nude, he likes to send dick prints to tease you because he knows you want the full image. Though this time, his pants and boxers are discarded, he has his hand curled around the base of his erect dick, and you can tell at once that he’s much too desperate to be in the position to tease you. In fact, he’s probably hoping you’ll be generous to him.

He’s needy as hell right now, you can feel it. And how cruel would it be of you to not help him?

You grab your vibrator and prop your phone on your pillow, positioning it so that it’d film you perfectly. It’s late, and you have work tomorrow so you don’t have that much time to sext with Jisung, so you instead decide to send him a video you know will last him for now. You press record, and wiggle yourself out of your panties exaggeratedly, knowing he’ll love the gesture. He always does. Then you spread your thighs apart, enough so that he’d easily be able to see how wet you are. For a while you tease yourself with your fingers, allowing little moans to fall from your lips before you desperately reach for your vibrator.

The feeling of it against you almost makes you forget that there’s a camera watching you, and that this is supposed to be for Jisung more than it is for you. You’re not worried, however. The thought of him has successfully infiltrated your mind, and you can’t help but moan his name louder than your ears can register. With your eyes firmly shut, you’re imagining it’s him between your thighs—his dick, his mouth, anything. In this moment you, don’t care. You can’t care.

“J-jisung,” you whimper when you’re close, not once, not twice, but several times in a chant-like manner. You can only imagine how much he’ll love that, and if he wasn’t hard already, it would’ve certainly did the trick.

It feels explosive when you cum—literally. That’s when you come to the realization that you’ve squirted, and you find it a nice touch to end the video with. You send the message Good night to Jisung, making sure to attach the video before preparing for bed.

The next day when you find some free time, Jisung calls you briefly and asks you to come over, informing you that the guy’s are away and won’t be back for some hours.

Of course you’d never miss the opportunity to see him, and you were there in record-time, wearing a cute skirt you know he likes. Time is blur when he opens the door for you, and you hardly remember what happened in the time between you walking inside and him sitting you atop the kitchen counter.

He slithers his hand up your skirt, making you sigh in pleasure when he rubs you through your panties.

“Missed this so much,” Jisung murmurs, acting as though he hasn’t seen you in days. You didn’t think it was possible, but somehow you’ve turned him from a virgin to a sex addict. He’s seriously a fiend for you, but you don’t mind it.

You snort. “You always miss me.”

“Yeah, well,” you can sense the disappointment in his voice, but you don’t know where it’s coming from, “I miss you more now because you kinda left me hanging last night.”

Is he talking about you not sexting him? There’s no way, you sent him a whole video. He isn’t entirely insatiable. “What do you mean? I sent you a video?”

“No, you didn’t,” when Jisung fills you stiffen in his grasp, he stops and steps back. The realization creeps up on him as quickly as it does you.

Your voice at a whisper, you quietly muse, “Then who did I send it to?”

“Me.”

You think you’re going to be sick. You don’t even have to turn your head, you can tell it’s Haechan from the sound of his voice. Still you do, your heart hammering against your chest as you look him the eyes. He’s standing by the door and you have no idea how long he’s been there, but you know it’s definitely been too long.

“Hyung,” Jisung looks equally horrified, “I thought you left.”

That’s right. Jisung did tell you everyone had left, and it surely seemed like they had. No cars outside, the apartment was quiet, and void of all life save for you and him. You had made a mistake, and fuck, so did he.

“I was asleep,” Haechan shrugs discardingly, too nonchalant to be relaxing. “Having fun here, aren’t we?”

You start, “Haechan, I—”

“Can explain? I don’t want to fucking hear it,” he’s upset, and it’s finally seeping through his calm demeanor. “When I saw that video I’m thinking I’m waking up to a sweet morning surprise from my girlfriend, ya’know, and then I hear you moaning my best friend’s fucking name,” his gaze pans to Jisung, who then practically cowers.

Fear has consumed half your body, though lust consumed the other half. You can’t help but bite your lip at the way your boyfriend looks when he’s mad, pushing your thighs together — and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“You’re fucking turned on by this, aren’t now?” He’s doing that laugh, the one that’s more out of anger than genuine amusement. It doesn’t help you at all, because damn does he sound hot doing it. “You know what? Come on. You too, Jisung.”

Haechan hooks his arms around you and forces you down the hallway before you can even think to move. You know being thrown around by him shouldn’t turn you on and especially not right now, but you can’t help the way that the aggression combined with his angry attitude has you sopping.

Jisung trails behind, feeling as though he doesn’t have much of a choice. You can tell he’s scared shitless, but you on the other hand are somewhat thrilled to see where this’ll go.

You’re practically thrown onto the bed when Haechan takes you into his room, slamming your back onto his sheets without much care. “I’m going to play with you until I’m satisfied,” he announces, not leaving room for options. “And Jisung, you’re going to watch.”

Jisung’s Adam’s apple bobs. “Watch?”

“Yes, watch. You’ve been fucking my girlfriend right under my nose and think that I’m going to let you off easy?”

Neither of you are going to be let off easy, and that’s the scariest part about it.

He doesn’t say anything from then on, only dragging down your articles of clothing or pulling them above your head at paces nothing less than excruciatingly slow. You begin to feel bare and uncovered underneath him, as though nothing could escape him and as though he can see through you more than you could him in the moment. The inscrutable expression on his face as he strips you naked makes you feel like everything you’ve hid is being stolen from confines, open and on display for him. He can see so much of you, but you can’t tell what’s running through his mind as he touches you almost everywhere but where you need him to.

The little relief he’s permitting you as he hauls his fingers around your skin isn’t enough and you at least know that he’s aware of that, deliberately fighting shy of the space between your thighs. You try and squirm, to show any possible hint of you needing more, but Haechan moves his hands to hold your hips steady. “You’re only making this worse for yourself if you keep moving,” his grip tightens until you give up and lie still, realizing that cumming is probably going to cost you more than you initially thought. “I’m in control here. Not you, not him, me. If you want to cum, then you’ll have to play by my fucking rules.”

You lift your gaze to Jisung, finding him staring back at you. The look on his face appears as unsure as it had the second you were caught, but the bulge in his pants betrays any lack of will present in him. If he could, you know that he’d be running his hands all over your body too, and you realize that that’s probably what’s going on inside his head.

You look away. “I’m sorry.”

The way Haechan snorts, you can tell he doesn’t believe you. He knows you’re only sorry because you want relief, and know the more you disobey him, the longer you’ll wait for it. “If you’re truly sorry, you’ll take what I give you like a good girl.”

The thud of your heart against your chest is loud, yelling at you when you feel him finally spread your thighs apart. You wonder if he can hear it too, the hunger and desperation in you calling for him in one steady rhythm. He moves like he’s willing to satisfy your greed, although not all at once, taking his precious time with you as he presses delicate kisses and rubs patterns onto the insides of your thighs. You whimper, but the dark, shadow-y look in his eyes as he gazes up at you shuts you up instantly.

“C-can I touch her?” Jisung asks tentatively.

Haechan doesn’t look back, doesn’t even think about it as he replies, “Not yet. You can touch her when I say you can.”

He’s dipping his head onto you again, not to say he ever really left. You moan a little when he licks at you, fighting the urge to buck your hips onto his mouth in reluctance to anger him further. You don’t know what the consequence would be if you did, and you’re fine without knowing. Still, the pace he sets is agonizing and it takes everything in you not to let temptation prevail. You know you did a bad thing. You also know that bad behavior doesn’t get rewarded, but you can’t help but feel a little selfish, wishing he’d give you a little more instead of teasing you beyond imaginable.

Eventually, the little licks do become more, gradually developing from gentleness to Haechan lapping at you with the eager movements of his tongue weakening you as he becomes unable to resist his own temptations. As you grip his hair forget there’s even anyone else in the room with you, weak in a way you had never allowed yourself to become for Jisung. This type of fragility is what he hears at night and what he saw in the video, but what he’d never be capable of having. You’ve been desperate for him too, but Haechan’s broken you beyond desperation. He’s teased you until your cunt physically aches, then filled you with pleasure that gives you whiplash.

“Hyuck, Hyuck,” your knees feel weak, and you can’t even think. All you know is that this feels good, and you fucking need him.

“You wanna cum, angel?” He coos, only moving away from your cunt for a second before he’s latching onto you again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant. “Please.”

Your stomach feels like a rollercoaster, your gut flipping, turning, twisting, spinning—and everything in between. You can feel your orgasm approaching and you know that Haechan can too, with your body quivering in his grasp, your sounds increasing in frequency and volume, and your clutch on his locks tightening without you being capable of noticing.

In short, your stomach feels like an insane rollercoaster, your gut flipping, turning, twisting, spinning—and everything in between. You can feel your orgasm approaching you quickly and you’re sure that Haechan can too, especially from how your body quivers in his grasp, your sounds increase in frequency and volume, and your grip on his locks tightens without you being capable of noticing. It’s almost as though your body is physically here, yet you’ve elevated off in heaven somewhere. But when he pulls away just before that invisible string in you can snap, you feel shoved back into torturous reality.

“No!” You whine.

“You really think you deserve to cum?” The way he looks at you feels so degrading that you can’t resist shaking a little underneath him as he hovers above you, “I’m going to edge you until you understand that this pussy is mine.”

“No, no, no,” you whimper, “please let me cum, Hyuck. I’ll be good, I promise.”

Haechan scoffs. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that? You weren’t worried about being good when you decided to be a slut for Jisung.”

The mention of Jisung gives you the rough reminder than he’s still in the room again, watching closely how pathetically you unravel before your boyfriend. You can tell that he wants to do something but he’s mentally debating it, and he shies up every time you shift your gaze over to him again. He’s more nervous now that he’s been directly mentioned, unsure of what to do and how to react in a scenario like this. He knows he shouldn’t touch you, but should he be ashamed if he were to touch himself? Should he feel guilty about the things he’s done with you when your boyfriend’s back was turned?

“I, I didn’t—”

“You didn’t what, babe?” He crooks his head. “Go ahead and tell me another lie.”

It’s almost embarrassing how easily Haechan makes you feel like such a pathetic mess. You can’t even find the words to say in response to that, and he’s simply amused by how quiet you’ve gone. It was never like you expected him to placate you after finding out about everything you did behind his back, but you didn’t think it would hurt to try, hoping he would show you some type of mercy and be even a little lenient. You know that he didn’t deserve for this to happen to him and that you don’t deserve even a sliver of his mercy, but you had hoped that maybe he would still find it in him to grace you with it anyway.

When Haechan moved his lips from between your thighs, soaring up your body and re-starting his teasing journey at your neck as he peppers the skin with gentle kisses that you know only temporarily betray his attitude, you had then accepted that nothing comes without a cost, and that this was your price to pay. He played fake soft with you, treating you like you had a fragile label warning printed across you in spite of being completely aware that you wanted more, that you needed more and would never be satisfied with what little he was giving you. That was what made it more fun for him though, because it seemed like no matter what amount of pleasure he was generous enough to give you, you would take it for granted and not value it enough.

Then Haechan’s movements get fiercer as he continues to follow this torturous pattern of gradually fulfilling your desires, kissing developing into biting and sucking at your flesh in ways that make you gasp out in response, and ways he knows will leave marks on your skin. He was satisfied that Jisung had at least successfully avoided that and you couldn’t imagine what side of him would unravel if he hadn’t. Haechan liked to joke and play around at times but he was never truly all that possessive over you unless you had truly set him off, and this was one of those instances where you had.

There isn’t a single sign of reluctance in him as he marks you up more and more little by little, sucking red spots into your neck and falling steadily down the rest of your body to cover every area he could. He knows that they aren’t tattoo permanent, but not extremely temporary either. In the moment you would feel him decorating your skin, but afterwards you would look in the mirror and see how he had left you covered practically head to toe in marks. If you were bold enough to try and sneak around with Jisung again, he would be reminded that you didn’t belong to him and you never would. You’re Haechan’s, and Haechan’s only.

Jisung speaks up again, asking in the faintest, meek voice, “Can I touch myself?”

For once it manages to make Haechan pause, and ultimately causes you to whimper by instinct when the rough contact between your skin and his mouth is broken, but the moment is thankfully brief when Haechan shrugs, “Go ahead.” Then he’s continuing again.

At the same time, Jisung manifests every sign of being eager to get his clothes off, desperate to feel some sort of relief that he’s been refused recently. He had planned on breaking that spell, on having you to himself today even if it was only for a while, and honestly couldn’t and wouldn’t have predicted that this would happen. After going without being inside of you for the past couple of days on top of you ghosting him last night (whether you intended to or not), he felt starved of everything he was craving.

Touching himself felt no where as good as being inside you would, and especially after he finally had received the experience to prove it, although it’s better than nothing and he’s accepted that Haechan is likely not going to let him anywhere near your body — not until he’s done playing whatever game he calls this. You would nickname it torment, and so would Jisung.

You’re back to square one soon enough, with Haechan reappearing between your thighs once more, still acting slowly and rather teasingly although not nearly as much as he had the first time around. As you feel his mouth on you, your sounds mix with the ones that Jisung audibly makes as he strokes himself to the sight, practically bouncing off of the walls. “Be quiet,” Haechan whispers momentarily, and you immediately frown. You instantly feel the urge to question why he suddenly has a problem with you making noise, but you figured it would be best to fight against them. If you thought about it, lacking self-control is what landed you in this particular situation in the first place.

In your attempt to hold back any sound, you bite the walls of your cheek. He has you right there on the edge again, at the point where it’s hardest for you to keep quiet, but you manage to comply with his rules. It’s relaxing your body that feels impossible, especially when he’s pushing the right buttons. Your thighs begin to tremble, and your senses feel so heightened that you could almost cry. You’re right there, so close, your orgasm practically in arm’s reach—yet then he torturously snatches it all away once more. This time you do cry, however for an entirely different reason than you anticipated. “Haechan, please let me cum. I’m sorry, I’ll do anything!” you’re past the point of caring that Jisung’s seeing you like this, all capability of feeling embarrassment and shame leaving you as you’re filled to the brim with nothing but denial and want. “Please.”

Swiping his thumb over your eyes, he coos mockingly, “Aw, did you wanna cum? Do you think you deserve it?”

You’re nodding your head impatiently, unable to stop the trail of tears that stream down your cheeks. “I’ve been—I’ve been good, Hyuck. I did everything you told me to do.”

Haechan seemed to debate the decision of his next move in his head, going back and forth with himself a couple of times before ultimately deciding he would he allow you a deal. “Here’s the deal: I’m gonna fuck you, and you better not make a sound unless I tell you to. If you don’t cum by the time that I do, then you won’t cum at all. Got it?”

Again, you nodded fervently, sealing your lips shut in fear of messing up your opportunity to cum before you ever really got the chance if you opened your mouth. Haechan stripped himself of his clothes in what felt like seconds, throwing them onto the floor to be concerned over another time. He had truthfully wanted to be inside you when he saw that video you’d accidentally sent him, just to prove to you that no one could ever make you feel as good as he could. He had a particular motive in not letting Jisung touch you, too. He was punishing not only you, but the both of you, and he wanted Jisung to see that no matter how much you crawled to him, you were Haechan’s. You belonged to him entirely, and he could please you like no other. It wouldn’t matter how good he was because Haechan was better, and with every second that passed, he proved it time and time again, relentlessly.

So when Haechan thrusts inside you, there’s no doubt that Jisung feels jealous. It’s his own fault for messing with someone who didn’t belong to him, but he’s attached to you in a way that he doesn’t think he could be with anybody else.

“Shit, babe,” he slides in easily, both from the fact that you’ve been dangerously aroused since the moment he grabbed you and the fact that he’s edged you twice already.

You had almost whimpered at the feeling of him gliding inside your cunt, but then you remembered the terms of your agreement and settled with digging your teeth into your bottom lip with a force slightly dangerous. In this moment, you’re content. All you had wanted was to be filled and Haechan does so greatly, shoving his girth inside you as though he had been waiting for this moment his whole life. With how much he had been edging you, you never really realized how much his own need was growing.

“Fucking slut,” Haechan growls, watching how eagerly you take him. You look like such a mess, cheeks stained with tears, skin covered in marks, and your body practically shaking in response to the pleasure. “Needed dick so bad you fuck my friend behind my back?”

When you don’t reply, his palm lands on your ass, causing you to barely hold in a moan. “That was a question, baby.”

“I—‘m sorry,” is all you can bring yourself to say. There’s no use in coming up with a better response, you already know there’s no words you could use that would placate him.

“I didn’t fucking ask if you were sorry though, did I?” he smacks your ass once more, and this time you’re unable to contain the loud yelp that tears from between your lips. “And I told you to shut the hell up. But I know you can’t think with nothing but that greedy fucking pussy.”

You’re then distracted by the ever so inviting sounds of Jisung’s moans the second they ripple through the air, instantly shifting your gaze towards him and observing how hot he looks as he gets himself off to this, to you, his hair in front of his face and his lips parted agape. He sounds as beautiful as he looks, eyes squeezing shut in a deepening moan as he strokes himself with his palm. If you were in your full mind, you would have realized that you’re only further proving your boyfriend’s point, however you just can’t help but still want the both of them—together.

Haechan slows his movements until he stops entirely, then grips your chin, slightly rough yet you display no sign of disliking it. In fact, it’s probably worse how much you enjoy him manhandling you. You’re so close to whimpering when he goes still, hardly remaining silent and although he doesn’t mention it, you know he could tell. “Look at me, not him. You’re fucking mine,” he enunciates the single syllable with one sharp, deep thrust. “This pussy is mine,” he repeats the motion again, rocking your body forward and nearly forcing a moan from you, “now tell me who you belong to.”

Weakly, you answer, “Y-you.”

It’s clear that Haechan isn’t moving again until you’ve complied, and he seems unsatisfied by your response. Your thoughts are confirmed when he instead smacks your thigh, resulting in tears to prick your eyes once more.

“Not satisfied. Try again.”

“You, Hyuck, f-fuck,” you sound weakened and broken, attempting to speak through your sobbing, “I’m yours, I belong to you! Only you. N-no one—no one but you.”

That seems to do the trick, because he finally re-starts thrusting into you habitually, temporarily making your vision go black when he strikes a particular, sweet spot. There’s no one word that perfectly captures how he feels inside you, and you wouldn’t even bother to try and think of one. Hell, you’re beyond the point of thinking. You would’ve been embarrassed by how dumb you’d gone at this point, unable to comprehend how loud you’re being and that you’re essentially breaking one of the terms of your deal. Haechan’s in too deep to stop now though, wanting to feel how you perfectly take every inch of him, and instead comes up with a better solution.

“Jisung, come—s-shit—come fuck her throat,” Haechan barely manages to grunt out, his own eyes closing firmly and his moans getting louder with every passing moment. “I know that’ll make a slut like her shut the fuck up.”

At first the command takes him by surprise, though then Jisung’s rushing over to fuck your throat without needing to be told twice. He’s a little unsure if you had even registered the words that left your boyfriend’s mouth, however he can’t find it within him to stop once he slips into your mouth. He can’t stop the moan that tumbles from between his own when he feels your mouth around him, neither, the warm sensation already feeling levels bettet than his palms. It’s then that he realizes you’d never sucked him off before, that it had always been him giving head and you on the receiving end—not that he minded. He loves giving you head and watching the way your body reacts to his touch. However he discovers that he also likes the way your mouth feels.

He’s dreamed about this, and the reality is so much better than the expectations. You’d seemed a little lost when you noticed him in your mouth, but you sucked anyways, assuming Haechan had finally allowed interaction between the both of you and being glad about it. You also feel bad that he had been abandoned on his own for so long, unable to do much but watch, and wanted to please him to the best of your ability. The look on his face is hard to concentrate on when your boyfriend’s simultaneously fucking into you relentlessly, but the glimpses of it that you do manage to catch tell you that you’re most likely doing a great and successful job.

“S-shit, you feel so good,” Jisung moans, practically feeling his whole body tingle.

You’re almost overwhelmed by the feeling of having two dicks in you, although it’s clear as day that he isn’t going to last extremely long, especially considering that he had already been getting himself off beforehand. You listen to his deep groans while simultaneously watching the way Haechan’s face twists and scrunches with pleasure, the three of your sounds—although yours muffled—mixing together as one. 

“G-gonna cu—f-fuck,” Jisung grunts, unable to finish his sentence before he’s filling your mouth with his cum, his eyes firmly closed as he murmurs a set of curses. He pulls away when he’s finished, watching with awe as you swallow as much as you can, and admiring the way you look as whatever you couldn’t take in your mouth dripped down and decorated your chin. 

There’s something about the way you look at him that honestly makes him feel like he could cum again right then, right there. 

Deciding slapping your ass isn’t effective enough, Haechan slaps your cunt to grab your attention, not caring that you whimper from the unexpected impact and almost tempted to do it again because of how sweet you sound. “Focus on me,” he commands, and you comply. “You close?”

Forgetting about what had happened earlier, you simply nod in response, much to his dissatisfaction. 

Haechan slapped your cunt again, “It’s like you never learn, baby. Use your words.”

“Y-yeah, I’m close,” it’s written all over your face, you know he’s only asking for a chance to torment you some more, “can I—can I cum?” 

“S-shit, cum for me babe. You better do it before I do,” he says, reminding you that you wouldn’t be allowed to cum if you didn’t by the time that he had. He’s just as close as you were, moaning needily, his grip on your waist tightening almost bruisingly. His thrusts get deeper yet they aren’t as precise as they were initially. 

Whatever happens in the next couple of moments you don’t process, save for your orgasm and the feeling of Haechan’s cum filling you to the brim, warm and thick. He stops moving eventually, slowing the way he rocks into your hips until he pauses completely. When he pulls out, he watches the way his cum drips from your cunt, unable to hide the proud smile developing on his face. He knows you like it too, recalling vividly all the times you’ve begged for him to cum in you. 

He scoops you into his arms afterwards, kissing your neck gently again, making you giggle when he avoids your mouth for obvious reasons. “You okay? Too rough?”

You shake your head. “I’m good.” He’s never too rough on you.

Jisung clears his throat from beside you, making you both shift your gaze to him. “So, um,” he begins awkwardly, “what now?”

The smirk on Haechan’s face is sinister, and you know whatever he’s thinking in his head can mean zero good, but a part of you is excited for it anyways. “We’re not done here,” he says plainly, then adds, “since you wanted it so bad, do you think you can take two dicks for us, y/n?”

You have no idea, but you guess you were about to find out. 

When you slowly nodded in confirmation, you swear you saw Jisung eyes twinkle a little in excitement. “Can we record it?” 

Haechan shrugs. “Is that okay with you, babe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you reply, thrilled by the idea. If this was the last time you’d ever be with the two of them at once, then you wanted to be able to remember it vividly, and there was no better way than recording. 

Your boyfriend grabs his phone from the nightstand, grinning a little devilishly. “Are you ready?” When you nodded, he pressed record and immediately brought the camera to your face, still sticky with cum. 

“Smile for the camera, baby.”

#nct dream smut #jisung smut #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #park jisung smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream x you #nct dream scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct

[belovedcloud]

The Better Man | Best Friend! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Notes: It's been a while since I've actually written something. Been having the biggest brainrot over Leon Kennedy so enjoy. :)

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

-> PT.2

WC: 1.2K ik it's short

CW: Cheating (reader gets cheated on, not by Leon), soft dom Leon, porn with barely any plot, little bit of overstimulation, petnames (sweetheart, pretty girl), oral.

Something you didn't expect to see when returning home to your boyfriend was to see another woman beneath him. Was it worth it to toss away a relationship just for some pussy? To your ex, yes. So here you are, outside of Leon's apartment, God knows at what hour. Faint knocking echoed down the hallway as you waited for Leon to open the door, I mean it was nearly 2 am... Would he even be awake to see you tonight? Your thoughts were soon swept aside as you hear keys jingling on the other side of the door. Quickly, you wipe your teary eyes as you see Leon open the door.

"Y/N?" He mumbled with a confused tone as he saw you stood in front of him. Turning his head to check the clock hanging on the wall, the hands of the clock displaying 1:55 am. "What are you doing her-" His words came to a stop as he saw a tear stream down your face. "My boyfriend.. well, not boyfriend anymore I guess" Y/N hushed out before wiping her face, "He cheated on me, and I'm sorry for coming to you at such a late hour but you're the only person who I know that woul-" Leon's fingers made her jump as she felt him tap her shoulder. "Don't be sorry, come here.." He whispered as he embraced her. A newfound warmth spread all over your body as you felt his arms tighten.

Leon slowly lead you to his couch, trying to calm down your sobs into his chest for a few minutes as you spill out what you saw on that same evening. Soon enough, no more tears flooded your face and you could see Leon's expression. Nothing but kind. He got up and after a few minutes he came back with a few snacks and drinks. It was his best attempt to cheer you up - it worked.

"I can't believe I even dated him, you even told me how much of an asshole he was." Y/N sighed as she took another sip of her drink. A slight grin spread on Leon's face as she shit-talked about her ex. "He never deserved you y'know, you up him in both looks and personality." He said as he took a pretzel from the bag, snickering at his own comment. The next 30 minutes was just you and Leon bad mouthing your ex and how he acted. Even in bed.

"He couldn't even last like 2 minutes! He sucked at it and didn't even really bother with aftercare. Unless you call a quick kiss on the lips and turning around aftercare." She scoffed, holding onto a bag of chips. "You're serious?" Leon asked looking at her with a teasing expression. "No he was a sex god." She said sarcastically as she placed a chip in her mouth. Leon couldn't help but look at her with doting eyes. A rush of nervousness spread in your system as you caught Leon staring at you like that. "L-leon?" You tried to snap him back but he wouldn't turn away, only giving you a teasing grin as he replayed your conversation in his head. "I'm glad you left him.." He sighed softly before putting his arm on the armrest. "You really deserve someone better who would actually treat you right, I mean who wouldn't want to be their best for you? Especially in bed.." He mumbled the last part.

"Someone like you..?" You hushed out your question but Leon turned his head to your question immediately. "I-I can't do that to you. I mean I don't want to ruin our friendship because of what I wan-" You cut him off after hearing him spew out nonsense. "Leon. I want you too y'know?"

You didn't think this would lead to Leon slowly parting your legs after gently taking off your panties to see your soaked cunt. "God.. You're so pretty for me sweetheart.." His fingers slowly rubbing up and down your folds, eliciting pornographic moans from your throat. Who knew your best friend would be the better man in bed than your ex? The thoughts of your ex slowly dissipated as you felt a warm sensation cover over your pussy. Leon's mouth. He couldn't help but taste you as a deep groan left his throat, your sweetness making his eyes roll back as he tongued at your folds. His eyelids slightly opened as he looked at you as he swirled his tongue. You were beautiful as he ate you out, in fact you were like a goddess. Moans and groans clashed against each other as the room was filled with wet sounds from Leon slowly fingering your pussy and licking your clit. Your fingers waving through his locks - slightly tugging at his hair as he drowned himself in your juices. "L-leon! 'm close oh f-fuck.." Her voice trembled as Leon continued to his hearts content, groaning out a few praises as he felt you tighten around his fingers. "You're taking it so well baby. So proud of you.." "Can't wait to see you do this on my cock.. you're so fuck.. gorgeous."

A coil slowly started to tighten in your stomach as you felt the stimulation of Leon's fingers curling into that sweet spot along with the quick sucks and swipes on your clit. "C'mon baby.. give it to me." He groaned as he rutted himself into the couch, his sweatpants feeling tight as he felt himself throb whilst devouring your sweet little cunt. "'m cumming! Leon!" Was all you could blabber out as the coil snapped and you felt yourself shake in Leon's grasp. His tongue still lapping at your clit, slightly overstimulating you as you felt your thighs tremble. Leon's fingers still continuing to curl inside of you as he licked up your cum, slowly putting his fingers in his mouth after cleaning the mess. "So fucking sweet for me." He kissed your inner thighs as he pulled himself up from between your legs.

Panting and sweating, you wearily lift up your head that was previously buried into the pillow, looking at him as you saw your slick on his chin. A slight smile appearing on your face. "What's so funny?" He looked at you confused with a grin on his face. "Nothing.." You snickered out as you saw his disheveled hair. Laughter slowly died down and you tugged on his sweatpants, looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Tonight's about you" He said as he kissed your neck, a slight whimper coming out of your mouth as you felt him bite down on you. "I wanna make you feel good too..." You murmured as you tugged on his shirt. Leon couldn't help but laugh slightly as he lifted himself up from your neck and looked into your eyes. "Yeah? You wanna make me feel good?" He teased as his hands slowly rode up your shirt, unclasping your bra and tossing it to the side. The pads of his fingers teasing your buds whilst his lips connected onto yours. A passionate kiss coming from both of you. You slowly break away, still determined to make him feel good - he can't help but accept the offer. He picks you up, a small yelp erupting from your throat as he takes you to his room.

"Can't say no to you, pretty girl.."

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

pls don't steal my work :p

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil #best friend leon kennedy

[betterbooktitles]

"I’m certain I’m not the only millennial who feels we as a nation have taken a dizzying turn when it comes to drugs. I remember a uniformed police officer showing up once a week in 5th Grade (a year before Sex Ed) to explain how to avoid buying and taking drugs. Luckily, I already knew the dangers of the drug trade because I had seen The Usual Suspects. I knew cocaine was a bad thing to buy, sell, or steal, especially from a drug kingpin. The D.A.R.E. program, however, let me know how important it was to say no to anything fun, including alcohol. At least until I understood a little algebra first. We did role-playing exercises where we walked one by one toward the portly police officer and he casually asked if we wanted to hit a mimed joint with him. All we had to do was say “no” and walk to the other side of the room, defying the only rule I knew about improv. We wrote essays about how important it was to preserve our pristine bodies and minds, obviously unsullied since we had yet to take the class teaching us how puberty was going to defile them both. I’m still mad that my friend Nicole’s essay beat mine in a contest, and she got to read hers in front of the whole school all because she had the benefit of an older brother who took too much acid and sat in her room all night talking about why the existence of light proved God was real. My essay about a time I saw my friend’s dad drink a beer and then drive his truck somewhere was also good! We signed pledges to enter the new millennium drug-free. We took the red pencils that said “Friends Don’t Let Friends Do Drugs” and sharpened all of them down to say “Let Friends Do Drugs,” “Friends Do Drugs,” “Do Drugs,” and simply “Drugs.” Despite that little rebellious act, my friends and I spent a solid six months swearing we’d never put any harmful substance into our bodies besides every form of candy available.

Imagine how I feel now as a D.A.R.E. graduate becoming my dad’s drug dealer. It’s less thrilling than I thought it would be. Between my father’s warning not to hang around one specific neighborhood in Cleveland as a kid and nearly every TV show about drugs, I thought I’d always be buying marijuana from an intimidating dude who definitely had a gun and would use it immediately if he thought I was wearing a wire. Instead, I now buy marijuana from a well-lit storefront that looks like the Apple Store. I’ve even gone to a place where a guy with an iPad explained what each available strain would do to me. I buy what sounds good with all the confidence of a man pointing at items on a menu written in a language he can’t read. I put it all in a cardboard box. I place a book on top. I mail the box to my dad from my local post office. I tell myself the book is to hide the contraband crossing state lines, but in truth, the book is what clears my conscience. I want to send my dad something edifying while also sending him the drug that all of America worried would make me unable to read if I tried it once. The unrequested book is a red herring to distract from the vice, like when you were young and didn’t want to buy condoms outright at the store so you cushioned them between a pack of peanut M&Ms and a magazine. Hmm, what else did I need, — right, while I’m here — might as well pick up a few condoms.

Right as marijuana becomes legal in most states, I’m about done with the drug. I’ve had three good times on edibles, and one of them was when I felt nothing and fell asleep at 9:30 PM. I’m flabbergasted that my dad likes edibles. He seems to be a man free of anxiety. Case in point, I once brought him some THC lozenges to our summer holiday in Chautauqua, and around dinner time I told him “You might want to only take half of what I gave you” to which he replied, “I took it hours ago.” He was stoned and no one noticed.

While I’m stuck in my head, stoned or sober, wondering why I didn’t take some acting gig 15 years ago, wondering if I’ll ever make enough money, worrying I’m doing everything wrong including in this moment as I write this sentence, my dad is enjoying himself.

Judith Grisel, the author of Never Enough: The Neuroscience And Experience of Addiction, describes using marijuana as throwing “a bucket of red paint” on your brain. She was approaching the stimulant clinically in terms of how it differed from the laser focus of other drugs (THC reacts with many receptors in the brain, cocaine focuses on one), but now every time I smoke, I think of the red paint metaphor. While other people seem able to crank an entire joint and do insanely complicated stuff like function at their jobs, I am reduced to a gelatinous blob, on top of which my eyes and brain are navigating a dream state that, like many dreams, isn’t all that interesting the next day. Mostly, I get high and can’t decide what I want to watch on TV or what video game I want to play, I realize how hungry I am, and then I fall asleep with cereal still stuck to my teeth. Pot, for me, is like the squid ink hitting the screen in Mario Kart: I can still see where I’m going, but everything gets a little harder to do, and the panicked half-blindness makes everything slightly more chaotically fun."

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Other articles include:

An essay on Claire Dederer's book Monsters and movies made by monsters.

Writing inside a Toyota Service Center.

Writing mistresses.

#writing #essay #essays #lit #literary #funny #lol #drugs #books #humor #reading #better book titles #dan wilbur #bibliophile #pot #d.a.r.e #just say no #comedy

[deantfwinchester]

Late Nights

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, back on my Joel x Teacher!Reader shit (though her work hardly plays a role in this), established relationship

Summary: Getting home late is an unfortunately common occurrence in Joel’s line of work. When you both have busy days, it can be hard to find time to share, but you make do.

Warnings: extreme fluff, just utterly fucking saccharine at this point, is fluff without plot a tag?

——————

It’s Wednesday night. Joel’s night to cook dinner.

You get home earlier every day, no question. But since you like to take most every night during the summer months, he insisted on a 60/40 split during the school year. Sundays, Mondays and Wednesdays are his. You had Tuesdays and Thursdays. Friday & Saturday are mainly for pizza, take out, or date-nights.

When he’d grill on Sunday afternoons, you liked to try and help him with prep, but he’d just pour you a glass of wine or mix you a drink and try to usher you out of the kitchen. You’d always sit and talk with him while he worked anyway. Sarah too, when she wasn’t working on homework or out with friends. It’s one of his favorite parts of the week.

On the nights he’d come home late, though, he always worried about leaving you to it. He was meant to be home cooking for the three of you while you relaxed, tried to let the stress of the school day roll off your back. He loved giving you that time.

This particular night, when six o’clock rolled around and he realized he still had a good hour or more on the site, he knew he needed to let you know he wouldn’t be timely with his return. Didn’t want you to worry.

You’re on the couch, grading. By this time of night, Joel’s normally taken the work from your hands and pulled your attention toward anything else. Noticing the room darkening, you wonder where he is, just as your phone dings:

Wednesday, October 7, 6:03 PM:

Sorry baby, gonna be later than I hoped tonight. Y’all don’t wait on me, okay?

Supposed to be my night too, dammit. I apologize, sweetheart.

You’d told him till you were blue in the face he didn’t need to apologize to you when he was the one having to work until long after dark. It never took.

You responded quickly, knowing his phone would be back in his pocket and forgotten again soon when his attention turned again to the work and his team.

Wednesday, October 7, 6:04 PM: (Outgoing)

Dont worry about it, sweetie. i promise i can handle dinner, just don’t work too hard and get home when you can ❤️

And take a break and drink some water, will ya? if that bottle ain’t empty yet, you haven’t had enough! see you soon, love.

He’d be dead on his feet when he walked through the door, that much you knew. And he’d have no business rifling around in the kitchen for something random he’d throw together, not substantial enough by far for a day of working like he’d been. You hopped up and started to the kitchen, determined to make a hearty meal for you and Sarah to share now, and to ensure Joel had a real meal when he finally made it home for the night.

————

A couple of hours had passed by the time Joel finally walked through the door. You’re back on the couch, this time reading a book while the lights from the tv danced softly in the dimly lit room, with a bare haze of sound playing at low volume.

It was nearly 8:30 when you heard the key turning in the door. Sarah had retired to her room for the night after dinner. She’d tried to help you clean the dishes, but you’d ushered her off to relax after spending most of the afternoon doing homework.

Joel trudges wearily through the door, shoulders slouched and eyes heavy-lidded when he thinks you can’t see him. The second he lays eyes on you, though, his posture straightens and his expression brightens, eyes opening a bit more as he lifts into a smile. Your expression mirrors his, and you sit up, closing your book and rising to meet him halfway. You practically speak over each other in greeting:

“Hi darlin’, how was your day?” he says.

“Hey honey, how’d it go today?” you ask.

You laugh a bit when you realize you’re asking the same question on top of each other, and he pulls you close, arms resting heavily around your waist. You drape yours around his neck as he leans down to kiss you. When you pull away to look at his face, you see past the tired smile he wears to the exhaustion etched in his face, settled in his drooping eyes.

You move one hand up, fiddling gently with the strands of hair at the back of his head. You smile and put light pressure on the base of his neck with your other hand, moving his head down to rest on your shoulder. He catches on instantly, and settles comfortably where you direct him. He nuzzles into the nape of your neck and you feel his eyes close against your collarbone, his warm fatigued breaths rhythmically grazing your chest.

You continue playing with his hair with one hand, while the other remains resting on the back of his neck. You turn your head to place a soft kiss to his temple and, after a moment of restful silence, quietly speak:

“You’re tired, huh? I missed you today.”

“Missed you too, baby,” he murmurs against your neck, tightening his grip around your waist, and snuggling closer.

“You gotta be hungry. Got a plate waitin’ for ya in the fridge. Want me to warm it up?” you ask him, moving your hand down his neck to rub gently against his back. He breathes deeply in contentment at your comforting touch.

“No, I’m never leaving this spot. I live here now,” he says, and you feel the rumble of his voice against your chest. You chuckle lightly and speed up your ministrations, applying a bit more pressure as you discover the tightness of the muscles in his back.

“Mhm. And when was the last time you ate? Or drank anything for that matter?” you ask knowingly.

“Uhhhh, i guess it was, arou-“ he cuts himself off with a yawn, “around lunch time? Maybe one? Did finish that bottle like you asked, though,” and he smacks his lips lazily, somehow nuzzling further into your shoulder.

“Good, thank you. But lunch was seven hours ago now, so you need to eat something. Wanna start there? Or shower first?” you ask, chuckling a bit.

He raises his head a bit and squints at you, frowning playfully. “You sayin’ I smell, darlin’?” he mumbles, laughing into your shoulder.

You giggle in response before elaborating: “I’m saying you’re sweaty and would feel better if you rinsed the day off before crawling into bed.”

He sighs and rasps into your neck, “you changed the sheets didn’t you?” you feel a smile form against your chest.

“Sure did. So it’s food, shower, and bedtime. You can pick the order. Which first? Want me to grab your dinner?” you ask.

He sighs deeper this time, “What’s that thing about objects in motion and objects at rest or somethin’? Gonna keep doing whatever they already got goin’ on?”

You rumble a little laugh in return before responding. “I see. C’mon Newton, let’s keep ya moving. Go hop in the shower while I get your dinner ready.” You say, patting his cheek as he raises his head with a little groan.

You catch his eyes with your own and let your hand rest on his cheek. You move a thumb beneath his chin and pull him to you, giving him one last peck before ushering him down the hall. You pull his plate from the fridge and get to work on reheating his meal.

——————

He emerges less than ten minutes later smelling fresh and dressed in a clean t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants, padding into the kitchen just as you’re filling a glass of water to place next to his warmed plate. He rubs a fist into one eye, yawning again, and plops into a chair at the kitchen table.

You approach behind him, placing the glass on the table with one hand and rubbing his shoulder with the other. He lifts a hand to grab yours and squeeze as he takes a sip. His eyes reach up to meet your own.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, sweetheart. It was my night anyway, and now you’ve cooked and even put the damn plate in front of me,” he huffs.

“You don’t need to thank me, love” you respond, leaning down to kiss him again before taking the seat next to him with the glass of wine you’d poured to sip while you sat with him. You reach for his left hand where it rests on the table, and gently squeeze. He wraps his fingers around yours before you can retreat. Your fingers remain intertwined for the duration of the meal.

The two of you discussed the highlights of your respective days - roses and thorns, both too sleepy to bother with buds. When Joel finishes, you grab his plate to wash, but he takes it from you.

“No way are you washing my dishes too, honey. You’ve done enough already tonight,” he tries to insist. You’re not having it.

“Will you just let me take care of you, dummy? You’re bone tired, I can see it in those beautiful brown eyes. Here. How about this?” you rinse the plate and utensils, shove them quickly in the dishwasher, close it emphatically, and raise your empty hands.

He rolls his eyes, but relents with an exasperated sigh. “Whatever you say, darlin’,” he responds smiling, a bit bashful from the care and compliment.

“Good. Now c’mon, bedtime.” you say, taking his hand in yours once again and leading him to the bedroom.

“Whatever you want, baby” he grins, raising his eyebrows suggestively. You can’t help bellow a hearty laugh at that one.

“Jesus, like you could keep your eyes open, Miller,” you respond, as you pull the covers back and lead him onto the bed next to you. You settle back against the headboard and open your arms up, beckoning him into your lap. He shuffles closer and leans into your embrace.

“It was-“ he pauses, only to finish through a yawn “- worth a shot.” You chuckle quietly as he rests his head in your lap, eyes instantly slipping closed.

You turn on the tv, keeping the volume low. It’s only a little after 9, so still early for you to fall asleep. You would read, but you’d rather turn off the light, hoping the dimness in the room helps him get some good rest.

You lay one hand on his back and the other in his hair, both softly rubbing in comforting circles, and you feel him melt further into you. A familiar warmth fills your chest at the sight of him there, resting peacefully in your lap. You lean down and press one last kiss to his head before whispering to him.

“Good night, sweetheart.”

“G’night, darlin’” he rumbles, muffled into your lap. You smile, one hand still on his back as the other reaches up, flicking off the lamp, before returning it to his hair. Your fingers gently massage his scalp, and within minutes, you hear his soft snores.

#call the fucking dentist bby #ur gonna get cavities fr #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo

[freeleyenrashespeakstruth]

By Kitty Werthmann

“I am a witness to history.

“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history.

If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching.

“We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls.

She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers.

“Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.”

No so.

Hitler is welcomed to Austria

“In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates.

Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs.

“My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’

“We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living.

“Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back.

“Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler.

“We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed.

“After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service.

“Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been re- quired to give up for marriage.

“Then we lost religious education for kids

“Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education.

“Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.”

And then things got worse.

“The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free.

“We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had.

“My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination.

“I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing.

“Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler.

“It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy.

“In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death.

“Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men.

“Soon after this, the draft was implemented.

“It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys.

“They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines.

“When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat.

“Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service.

“When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers.

“You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government.

“The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had.

“Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna..

“After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything.

“When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full.

“If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries.

“As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families.

“All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing.

“We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables.

“Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands.

“Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control.

“We had consumer protection, too

“We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it.

“In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated.

“So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work.

“I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van.

“I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months.

“They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness.

“As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia.

“Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily.

“No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up.

“Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.”

“This is my eyewitness account.

“It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity.

“America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away.

“After America, there is no place to go.”

Kitty Werthmann

[the-game-spirit]

whyyyy

#ellie threw a huge fit at 2 am yesterday and wouldnt sleep for HOURS #now it's 3 am and shes not. going back to sleep. after her night bathroom break oh noooo #god please. ellie PLEASE dont do this to me dont make this into a new habit #she was doing so well!! she'd sleep thru to /6am!!!/ /6am!!!!!!!/ #i dont mind a 3 am bathroom break basically the entire house takes a 3 am bathroom break #but up until recently shed wake up between 5-5:30 am which was MISERABLE #but this past month! 6am!!!! i LOVE 6am! #but last night...... #let her out at 2 #and she WOULD NOT. just REFUSED to sleep #it took her just basically getting so tired she nearly conked out on moms bed before shed let my put her in HER bed to sleep #and not throw an enormous fit #idk what the problem was last night #no clue #tonight.... #i did the normal bathroom break #and put her to bed #everything seemed fine #except she BARKING NOW #:( #she was quiet for so long while i was writing these tags but she just started up again #pleeeease ellie #dont do this to me

[unforth]

I had a day off yesterday.

And I can already practically hear the assumptions that such a statement is prompting the reader to make. Those assumptions are wrong. I don't mean I didn't work. I did, for about 8 hours. That's not at all what I mean.

I mean my wife took the kids out at 9:30, spent the night with her mom, isn't back yet the next morning.

There are things I NEED people on this website to understand about parenting. And I've talked about it before, and I'll talk about it again, because honestly the way that Tumblr as a cohort talks about parents makes me sick. Multiple polls have shown that only about 2% of people on here are parents. We're a huge minority, and we're constantly talked over, ignored, or accused of being bad parents (like, personally, I have had people reply to my comments or come on to my posts and tell me I shouldn't have my kids). In my case, being a parent means I'm almost 41, I'm married to @ramblingandpie, and our children are inching up on being 8 and 6 years old.

My entire day, and therefore my entire life, revolves around them. I'm up most mornings at 5 AM, because that's the earliest they're "allowed" to wake up, and so my brain just defaults to being awake around then - better to wake up before them, at least then I get a few minutes in the morning. Between 5 and 7, I sit with them, do my social media, work on side blogs, study Chinese. Then it's helping them get ready for school, then my wife or I or both get them on the bus, and then I work until the last possible minute, which is either when I need to go pick them up for an after school activity or when I need to go down and meet them off the bus. My afternoons are after school activities, chores such as washing the dishes and cleaning up toys, talking with them, working with them, playing with them. Their bedtime starts at 7:40, and my son gets scared if I leave before he falls asleep so I sit with him until about 8:15. As soon as he's asleep, I go fall on my face, sleep as best I can, then wake up and do it again. Overnight, it's hard to sleep deeply, because about once a week someone will wake up in the middle of the night and need help. That could be as minimal as a hug or as complex as having to completely change the bedding on a bunk bed at 2 AM while also comforting a child who is afraid they'll be in trouble, or afraid they're sick, or afraid of their nightmare, or, or, or. Further, if a child is awake, there is always noise. I usually study Chinese with two or more competing sources of noise. I read the same way. My life is loud, and active, and consists of constant interruptions.

I adore my family, and I love my children, but this is terrible for me.

I do all of this as an neurodivergent introvert. My clinical depression is at least medicated, mostly because post-partum depression after I gave birth the first time nearly drove me to suicidal in under a week (we were expecting this and were prepared, fortunately, getting help was as simple as a phone call). The constant noise and interruptions and forced socialibility are about the worst combination of home-life I could be subjected to. I spend far too many early mornings just breathing deeply and gearing myself up to be subjected to the wall of Loud, Boisterous, Needing-My-Attention that is every minute when anyone else in the house is awake.

So what did my day off look like?

I helped get the kids ready to go and did some morning chores. I'd been up at 4:30 AM so I also had already social media'd and studied. Then, while my wife finished the preparations, I started work, and I worked from about 8 am to about 4 pm, straight. I didn't get hungry so didn't bother stopping for lunch. No one interrupted me, no one asked me to look at anything they'd built, no one broke my concentration, no sounds could be heard except those I'd chosen myself.

I'd been out the day before at a local shopping street and listened closely to the things the kids said they wanted, so at 4 I grabbed a couple orders I needed to ship for work and drove to our local downtown, dropped the orders in a post box, then went back to the shops and did some Christmas shopping in the 45 minutes or so before everything closed. I think I'm basically done with what we'll get them - other bigger things will be left to grand parents - so that's a load off, I literally had a stress dream earlier this week about it being 12/24 and having forgotten to do the shopping and having to go to (oh horrors) the mall on the day before Christmas. (Reminder: I'm a Jewish atheist. It's just virtually impossible not to Holiday in the Culturally Christian Hellscape that is the US. Also, my wife is Christian. So.) Found something cute for my wife, too, even tho I already know the main thing I'm getting her. Then, I realized - one of my favorite restaurants is on that block. So. I went there. I sat by myself at a table, only the indistinct restaurant hubbub around me. I read four or five chapters of my book, and ate a savory crepe, and drank lovely fruit tea, and got a scone to-go that I'll eat for lunch today. It was more than I probably should have spent on myself - about $25, including tip - but fuck it. I only get maybe a handful of days off all year, and I'm allowed to indulge a little.

Then I came home. There were no lights on. There was no noise. I had considered doing some more merch work while watching TV on the actual television (my kids are too young for subtitled shows, so usually if I want to watch My Shows I either have to do it on my computer when they're not around, or put them on and read all the subtitles aloud while trying to keep up and process the actual meaning of what I'm reading). But when I got back, the quiet and dark was so goddamn NICE that instead I curled up on the couch and read more of my book. I did that until bedtime - still about 8:15, because I'm exhausted. Then...I went to bed. And I slept long and deep, knowing that there was no chance I'd be interrupted and woken up, I didn't have to be, even in sleep, alert to every noise and possibility that I'd be needed.

I'm still exhausted and burned out, but even one night to myself felt really, really nice.

Saying "Tumblr does X" as a universal statement is doomed to failure, but generally speaking, the parenting posts I see on Tumblr, the ones with tens or hundreds of thousands of notes, speak what's apparently widely seen as a truism on here: that unless someone wants to spend 24/7 with their kids, to be 100% emotionally available at all times, is always kind and patient and perfect, they are a bad parent, maybe even abusive. I remember when covid started, there were multiple posts actively mocking the "oh god, my kids are now home all the time, how am I supposed to do this?" attitude that a lot of parents posted in despair. WhY dId YoU hAvE kIdS iF yOu DoN't WaNt To SpEnD tImE wItH tHeM?

Look at what my usual day looks like.

Look at what my day off looked like.

Do you really think I don't want to spend time with my kids? Do you really think I don't love my kids?

But I'm not a fucking MACHINE. I'm a PERSON. That's what people on Tumblr seem to forget. PARENTS ARE PEOPLE. The same tumblrinas who post ~uwu be kind to yourself rest if you need to, you should forgive yourself for that mistake you made~ will turn around, with zero sense of irony, and post "you're a bad parent if you ever raise your voice around a child."

Expecting parents to be perfect means expecting parents to be inhuman. It also means that a parent can't be poor (can't spend all your time being the perfect parent if you have to work multiple jobs or weird hours!), can't be introverted (can't be a perfect parent if you're not completely emotional available, god forbid socializing is exhausting for you), can't be on the ADHD or autism spectrum (what do you mean you forgot to get your kid to a doctor's appointment once? what do you mean over-stimulation can make you angry? how dare you get angry at a kid!), can't be depressed (gotta get out of bed every single day, gotta always be upbeat, patient, happy, or else that's Evil), can't be (like my wife) physically disabled (what do you mean your hands hurt too much to hold a child's hand? are you denying them touch?? CRUEL). And when the only answer you can offer to that is, "if you can't be that perfect you shouldn't be a parent," then you're saying people who aren't middle class to wealthy, people who aren't neurotypical, people who aren't physically able, shouldn't have children.

And honestly...what the fuck is your problem?

I'm not perfect. I tell my kids to just leave me alone sometimes. I raise my voice, especially when one of my kids starts punching the other, but also sometimes just cause I'm exhausted and Can't Anymore. I've forgotten an appointment by accident and felt like a total fucking idiot, and I've skipped an after school activity because I just wasn't up for taking them. I've served them more unbalanced, unhealthy meals than I can count. I've made many, many mistakes, but I've also done my best, and I love my kids, and I hope that when they grow up, they'll still love me even as they recognize that I wasn't perfect, just as I've come to accept my own parents' short-comings while still loving them very much. They're people, too, and the older I get, the more I understand where they were coming from.

When I fuck up, I apologize.

When they tell me they're unhappy with something I've done, I apologize, and I try to do better. Sometimes I even succeed.

This shit is hard, yo. And it's getting harder every year.

I'm BEGGING Tumblr: you need to start seeing parents as people. The way y'all talk about parenting on here is toxic, and genuinely harmful, and frankly exhausting. You have no idea what the reality of raising kids is like, and you need to shut the entire fuck up.

I had a day off yesterday.

I might get one more before the end of 2023.

I already can't wait. I am so, so, so tired. sigh

(if you actually read this whole rant and even a single word of it resonated for you, please reblog it. I'm tired of never seeing positive posts about parenting while I see negative ones with a bajillion notes.)

#unforth rambles #parenting #momblr #nothing prompted this #i just think about writing posts like this all the time #because the low-level background buzz of how much tumblr hates parents is a constant stressor tbh #and every once and a while i tip over the line end up Writing the Thing #and so here we are again #god i have so much to do today and instead i procrastinate with this #oops

[iww-gnv]

I’m straddling my road bike, carrying two boxes of Chinese dumplings in a paper tote. The DoorDash app tells me I need to sprint my payload across Manhattan – cutting across the Holland Tunnel’s on-ramp – in the next eight minutes. I’m trying out food delivery under New York City’s new minimum wage law on a frigid December afternoon. Before – I was a part-time delivery worker between 2018 and 2020 – an order like this would have paid just a few dollars, making it a frantic rush to finish and move on to the next one. Now the new rules guarantee delivery workers nearly $30 an hour of “trip time”. So I stop at red lights, yield to pedestrians, and though I end up arriving a couple minutes late, I feel surprisingly relaxed. My customer seems pleased, too. But the delivery bosses are already trying to reassert their dominance. Since the law took effect, delivery apps have made it harder for customers to tip. Previously, apps like DoorDash would ask customers to tip their couriers when placing orders, allowing workers to see the total amount before agreeing to take the job. Now, Uber and DoorDash have stopped prompting customers before checkout, and those that still choose to tip can only do so after the delivery has been made, through a button that can be difficult to find.

#news #us news #uspol #us pol #new york #new york city #new york news #uber eats #doordash #uber #delivery drivers #delivery workers

[keikiri-kitten]

IT’S YOU THAT I ADORE ★ LEON KENNEDY

leon x reader, late 30’s/early 40’s leon, early 20’s reader, smut adjacent, angst, fluff, addressing leon’s drinking habit

Leon swore on any pure thing left on this Earth that he found a good thing in the one who took a chance on him, the old man.

Your smile ignited his heart; the flames warmed him up to the idea of a world filled with hope and promise. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. He could actually anticipate the sound of your laugh in the morning and dig his fingertips into your flesh when he hugs you. Your kisses drive him wild and your sprite-like spirit makes him feel twenty seven again. Twenty one even.

He appreciates your willingness to stick besides him despite his stubborn nature. One that hasn’t changed since he was a rookie In Raccoon city. Leon’s a stubborn man in many aspects and the main one? Keeping you safe from any unsavory parts of him.

Alcohol was nothing short of a hobby with Leon and when he gets wasted, he’d come home late. The both of you could nearly count on him stumbling in at one in the morning with liquor on his breath as he finally begins to sober up. Nights like that make him choose to sleep on the couch. He won’t take off his clothes, he’ll sleep in an upright position with his head hanging on the back of the couch. Truly using his best judgment.

By the morning, he’s sober and can find you either staring at him pitifully in love or getting your day ready as you let him continue to rest. It’s usually like that when he gets wasted. Though that’s only how he perceives nights like this.

He doesn’t think about how you wake up in the middle of the night to hear him barging in. He doesn’t realize that you understand why he confides in a flask. Though what he doesn’t realize is that you wished he’d come to bed. No matter how much commotion he causes. You wish he’d be vulnerable in every aspect. You hope he knows you are in love with him for the good, bad and ugly he had to offer.

It’s the same kind of night tonight; Leon is stumbling in with a better sense of self awareness than what he had a couple of hours ago. You’re rocked awake from the sound, hearing him shuffle to the couch.

You hear him swear after a small thud, knowing that he banged his toe on what most likely was the couch. It causes you to shift in the bed that you two are supposed to share. This time was going to be different. You’ll get to catch him before he falls asleep. Pushing your tired body out of the bed, you tug the heavy duvet behind you until you’re peeking out from the door frame.

It’s easy to spot Leon who’s taken a similar position as always on the couch. He’s sitting up, limbs spread all over the couch and his eyes are hunting all over you. It’s obvious you startled him. A familiar black leather jacket and ragged boots are placed by the loveseat to leave the man in a dingy navy blue t-shirt and black jeans. His eyes roll while he scolds himself for waking you up.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he starts. His words are slightly slurred but his intentions are near sober. “Go back to sleep.”

“Leon, come to bed.” You tiredly coo, never minding the shameful look on his face. “I want you in bed with me.”

“I smell like alcohol. You don’t need to smell that…” he tries, sitting up as he continues to ramble off reasons to leave you be. “I’m sure you’re pissed with me for coming in late, waking you up.”

He’s talking but you’re not registering anything he’s saying. Your feet shuffle towards the older man, watching his body become tense. A hand of yours grips the blanket tighter in your fist. Out of instinct, his hands reach out for your hips, allowing you to fall in his hands. That and he longed for your touch.

As you begin to straddle his legs, he grips your hips and pulls you in close. Your face meets his chest, missing the sound of his heartbeat. Leon is stunned at first but he regains composure and takes the duvet from you and covers the both of you with it.

“I don’t care that you’re coming home late. I know how hard it is. I see it on you… I smell it on you,” you whisper. “I just want you to come home to me and not the couch. I love you.”

It was sudden but under the comfort of the cover, you could feel a strong hold wrap around you. Leon’s secure hold made you sigh out in comfort. With one arm wrapped around your waist and his other hand caressing the back of your head, he rests his cheek on the top of your head. “I love you too.”

“How can you sleep like this?” You ask.

“I can sleep just fine, doll face.” He mutters, shushing you, kissing your temple.

Your head slowly lifts off of Leon’s body to meet his eyes. The searing blue ached for your attention. They flickered between your eyes and lips. They have age to them; his eyes are hooded over and they’re accessorized with crows feet and bags from stress.

The hand behind your head drops to your neck as it brings your face closer to his. He didn’t have the intention of kissing you, it would have been tasteless. However with the pound of your heart increasing the longer he kept his eyes on you, you took it upon yourself to dress his lips in your kiss.

Leon stutters within the kiss for a brief moment as if he were about to object. Though your willingness to make him feel comfortable made his body sink deeper into the couch and his chest fall. Kissing you back, his kisses were damn near bruising. He secured your face against his with that grip on your waist almost piercing you.

It was only when he could feel your hands loosely drape around his neck that he tensed up so he could at least try to keep you against a sturdy surface. His hand that kept your kiss pressed against his lips traced to your cheek, naturally causing you to tilt your head in the palm of his hand. His lips grazed from your lips and over your jaw and down your neck with gentle kisses. You could feel the stubble on his jaw tickle at your skin.

The tip of his nose trails along your neck while he adorns you with kisses. “Leon,” you tiredly breathe out, knowing what he’s trying to get out of you.

That rough grip he has on your waist drops to snake his fingertips underneath the shirt of his you wore to bed. He wouldn’t speak, but he was obedient. It hurt to try and pull away his lips from you. They found their way back to yours in a last ditch effort for you to change your mind. They don’t kiss you but ghost over your lips. “I want you,” he mutters.

“Maybe when you’re completely sober we can talk about it, hm? I can make your hangover easier,” you tease, sending him a smile.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“I keep my promises, Kennedy.” You chirp, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Leon smiles. Truly.

He knows that he’s comfortable with sleeping sitting up, but he wouldn’t dare let you sleep in such a way. He adjusts your bodies to lay down on the cushions of the couch. All you could do is cozy into the firmness of his chest. “Now you can sleep. You’ve got me feeling like an ass having you sleep on the couch.”

Snorting, you shake your head. “Goodnight, Leon.”

“Good night, beautiful.”

#leon x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy angst #leon fluff #leon angst #residentevilbirdie #resident evil leon #resident evil x reader #residentbirdie #leon scott kennedy #Leon Drabble

[venusrising91]

Noise Complaint

Pairing: Wonho x Male reader

Genre: Smut, enemies to lovers/hate to love (no plot just vibezzzz)

Summary: Your new nextdoor neighbor, Wonho (Lee-ho) is a loud, inconsiderate gym rat. He keeps you up all hours of the night with his seedy escapades and you're sick of it. 

Word count: 2,014 (2 pages)

T/W: aggression, physical violence

It was 4am and you had work at 8, yet rest was as far from your reach as the sun would be once it rose. 

Short hours. 

You had short hours to get some much needed sleep. But no matter how hard you’d tried, you hadn’t been able to reach the REM state and it was all thanks to your obnoxious, ridiculously muscular neighbor, Lee-ho. 

    For the third time this week, giggling voices and blaring music, followed by high-pitched moans had kept you wide awake. Usually, after one or two rounds with whatever girl he’d picked up scouring city night clubs, the mewls and slaps and yes daddys would subside, and you could finally drift. But tonight, he seemed to have endless energy. You heard his date come four times. Back to back.

    It was almost 6:30 by the time they wore themselves out.

    You’d barely slept. At the office, you struggled to keep your eyes open, staring through slits at the charts on your computer. The project manager noticed you nodding and called you into her office after the meeting. As head graphic designer, you were expected to oversee and execute this assignment—because securing this client would ensure you a raise next quarter, but the arrival of your new neighbor had thrown a wrench in your performance.

    She threatened to take you off the project and her disappointment was all you could think about on your commute back home.

    In the apartment lobby, you pressed the button on the elevator console so hard it nearly jammed.

    “Sup bruh.” You whipped your head around and there was Lee-ho, all 6 feet of him, donned in gym wear and sipping on some colorful drink. You clenched your teeth.

“Hey,” you mumbled back with listless regard.

    The elevator doors opened and Lee-ho walked gingerly ahead of you. Before he could step inside however, his cell slipped from his pocket. As he bent you couldn’t help but notice his butt: firm, round, muscled. You tore your eyes away and carded your hair. Inside, the music was soft and unobtrusive. The exact opposite of Lee-ho.

“How you feeling?” he asked, plunging his hands into his pockets.

“Tired.”

He snorted. “Oh yeah, me too.”

    “I’m sure you are.” You glared at him, slightly envious of the angle of his jaw, of how much sharper it was than yours. And envious also of the broad span of his chest, his neat features, his lips, his hair. He was by all accounts, an objectively better looking man than you and this only added to your irritation.

    “What d’you mean by that?” asked Lee-ho, quirking his brow. He must have sensed your frustration because now he was folding his arms, closing up. You didn’t care.

    “You know the walls that separate us are paper thin, right?”

    “Yeah, and?”

    The doors slid open on your floor. “I can hear everything. All the time.” You stepped out before him, stalking down the hallway.

    “My bad, dude. I’ll keep it down,” he shouted after you. There was a smug air about his tone and you ignored him as you shoved your key into the lock. It was only 7pm but you were exhausted. After a quick dinner of leftover pasta, and an even quicker shower, you went to bed, desperate to get back the hours you’d lost. You drifted in minutes, sleeping soundly, until loud music and moans yanked you from your dreams at 2am.

    You leapt from the bed, pulling on a robe, not bothering to tie it. It took less than two minutes for you to reach Lee-ho’s door. You pounded on it furiously, on and on, until he swung it open. For a moment, each of you stood silently observing one another. He was fully nude, sweating and cupping his genitals as his eyes swept over you. They lingered on your chest, you noted, then trailed up to meet your gaze. Despite your robe, you felt suddenly bare, and exposed. Quickly you tied it, covering yourself from him.

    “What the fuck, dude?” said Lee-ho.

    “Keep it down.”

    “Yeah and what if I don’t?”

    “I’ll write a formal complaint. You're violating code of conduct with this shit. Some of us have actual jobs, you know?”

“I have a job.”

“Gym bro influencer and fuckboy does not an occupation make.” This was rude, and uncalled for. But you were sleep deprived. Lee-ho's shoulders slumped down a measure—he appeared somewhat diminished in the face of the insult and you almost felt bad for him. Your eyes fell on his abs however, and then, without meaning to, dipped even lower, catching a glimpse of what was too large to be completely covered by his palm. Even his cock was better than yours—he didn’t need your pity. Without waiting for a retort, you turned and stormed down the hall.

Back in your bedroom, the beginnings of an erection tugged at the tender flesh between your legs. And by the time you lay back in bed, you were rock-hard, and aching.

    In the morning you shaved and contemplated calling out, but you really couldn’t afford to. At work, you tried to concentrate but all you could think of was Lee-ho, of his throbbing head, peeking up from behind his hand in the middle of the doorway. You didn’t like men. At least you thought you didn’t. You’d had a few girlfriends in the past and once or twice thought about experimenting with a guy back in college but no one ever drew you in. No one ever attracted you the way—

    Enough, you weren’t doing this. What were you thinking? You weren’t into dudes and especially not ones you despised as much as Lee-ho. He probably never had to work for anything a day in his life. Just had to show up and collect everyone's praise and adulation. 

Prick.

    Back at the apartment, you took the stairs to avoid crossing paths with him. Thankfully it was Friday, and you could catch up on your shows without feeling guilty for missing the sleep that was so hard to come by lately. 

After dinner and a shower, you binged a season of a new show on Netflix, and dozed off halfway through. But a short while later, a sharp knock on the door jolted you awake.

    You shuffled to it, half-dazed. Waiting on the other side was Lee-ho, glaring a hole through your forehead.

    “You know, you’re a real asshole?” he declared. 

    “Could say the same about you.”

    “What you said the other night—you don’t talk to people like that. I want an apology.”

    You scoffed and made to shut the door. But he stopped it, forcing it open. “Get off the door and fuck off,” you clipped.

    “Or what?”

    Impulse and anger drove you to shove him, which was stupid. His arms alone were twice the size of yours. He shoved you back and you stumbled into your apartment. Lee-ho stepped over the threshold, letting the door slam behind him. Then his hands were on you again, crashing into your chest. It knocked the air from your lungs. Enraged, you swung and missed. He caught it and wrapped his hand around your throat, pinning you against a wall. His face was inches from yours as he strangled you, but slowly, his grip loosened. Each of you were panting. He smelled expensive, like Tom Ford—the scent filled you, clouded your head and senses. His breath on you was warm, his lips resting short inches from yours. He brought them even closer, until the tips of your noses were grazing.

“What are you doing?” you whispered.

    “I—I’m not—I’m straight but…your…” he trailed off, hand sliding across your chest.

    “You wanna fuck me, that it?” Neither of you said a word, only stood there, gazing, panting. Then your hand traveled down, until it landed on his crotch. You palmed his cock, and found it was already hard for you. After the other night, you couldn’t get it out of your mind. Once it was in your mouth, he made the most helpless sounds, cupping your head and guiding you as you swallowed it again and again.

    “Fuck, your throat feels s-so good,” mewled Lee-ho. You fought against your gag reflex, getting harder each time he shoved it in, down to the hilt. Your eyes watered. You never thought the taste of cock could turn you on this much. Women were lovely and all but this was something else entirely. It was like satisfying some primal urge you never knew existed until now. You squeezed his balls gently, sucking him all the while. He came in minutes and stood over you shivering as the orgasm rippled through him.

    You rose, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Lee-ho dropped to his knees, pulling down your boxers. He took you in his mouth and it felt like the world stopped spinning. His tongue swirled around the tip, one hand cradling your heavy balls, the other gripping your ass, a finger seeking the rosebud. He tried to slip it in but you panicked, bucking away like a spooked horse.

    “I thought you said you were straight?” you whispered.

    He popped your cock from his warm mouth. You twitched as he smirked up at you. “Chicks like it sometimes. I figured you might wanna give it a try. Feels tight though, got any lube?”

    You hesitated, wondering what it would be like to have his finger circling inside you. There was nothing but heat and silence as you stared down at him. “In the bedroom,” you said, breathlessly.

    As you lay on your back watching his chiseled body shift in the dim light, he slathered the lube you kept in your bedside drawer onto his middle finger. Then he drizzled some over your erection, spreading it with long strokes.

    “Fuuuuuck,” you whined, arching at the pleasure, at the way he gripped you.

“You like that?” With this, he slid a finger inside you, taking it slow. The pressure had you arching even more. Once he eased you past the initial pain, all you could do was moan and claw and look down at your rock-hard cock as he pumped you in two places, at different paces. In the front he squeezed tight, giving you fast, steady strokes, but in that pulsing spot between your cheeks he worked you soft and deep, taking his time as his finger explored your depths. The pressure was glorious, and you felt your entrance contracting around him. “You’re dripping for me,” he cooed. You looked down at yourself as he gripped the base, a long rope dangling from the tip onto your stomach. He licked it, dragging the pad of his tongue along your abs, then swallowed you whole. After a few hard sucks he pulled back, finger still buried in you, coaxing out spasms you couldn't control. Fuck he was so attractive, you never thought a man could make you feel this good.

    The next moment, you were shooting ropes in the air, convulsing under him and fisting the sheets as he drained you. He let you pant there, chest heaving, before taking your length back into his mouth. He sucked and finger-fucked you through your sensitivity, ignoring your loud moans and cries. You asked him to stop but you didn’t mean it. You wanted more and he gave it to you. All night. After your third orgasm you could barely stay conscious.

Lee-ho crept beside you, watching as you shivered your way through the leavings of your latest high. 

    “I’m s-sorry,” you muttered between waves of it, “about the other day. You’re right, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.”

    He chuckled. “It’s fine. I’ll be quiet from now on, promise.”

    You couldn’t quite keep your eyes open, and drifted then, still tingling from what he'd done to you. Your rest went uninterrupted for the first time in weeks. But when you woke, Lee-ho was gone.

    From then on, the noise had stopped, just like he'd promised. But a few times a week, just before bed, there came a knock at your door, and a smirking, half-naked Lee-ho waiting on the other side of it.

#wonho imagines #lee wonho #lee hoseok #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #shin wonho #lee hoseok smut #monstax smut #monsta x wonho #kpop x you #kpop x y/n #wonho x reader #wonho x you #yaoi #bl manhwa #mm romance #male reader

[chvoswxtch]

return the favor

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader x frank castle

summary: you're always there when matt and frank need you, no matter what it is, or what time of day. they decide it's time to return the favor, and show some gratitude.

warnings: all of them. every single one of them. swearing, mentions of blood, explicit sexual content (minors dni, seriously this is like x rated), little bits of fluff sprinkled in

word count: 12.6k

a/n: i'm not even going to apologize. y'all know me by now. y'all know who I am as a person. y'all know I cannot be normal about either one of them, and i've stopped trying to be. my inner slut took over when I wrote this, and it is filthy. it had me sweating like a whore in church. I don't even go to church. i'm not even religious, and I feel like I need to pray for forgiveness after this. this baby is over 30 pages, and it is a ride. ;)

this is my holiday gift to each and every one of you precious angel babies. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated! ❤️

also again, i'm still not sure if the glitch with dark mode has been fixed or not but if you're on dark mode, you may have trouble viewing this. I apologize for any inconvenience reading in advance!

At this point you weren’t sure who started it this time. Honestly, you weren’t even sure if one of them had started it, or if it was just another argument carrying over from earlier. You’d given up keeping score in their little competition of who could be more ornery. It used to amuse you. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and the big bad Punisher constantly bickering back and forth like an old married couple, muttering under their breath in exasperation at the others' antics, yet still fighting through all that annoyance to come to the other’s defense if need be. If it had been any other night, you might have been entertained. You might have even laughed at how ridiculous they were being. But it was nearly midnight, you were beyond exhausted, and to top it all off, it was absolutely fucking freezing on top of this roof. 

Why were you even here again? Oh yeah, Frank. He had sustained a pretty nasty cut to his arm after what was supposed to be an easy takedown had turned into a confounded ambush. You’d received a simple text from Matt’s burner phone a little over an hour earlier that had just consisted of the words “roof” and “kit”. Using your context clues, you assumed he meant his roof. You didn’t even give it much thought before you were bracing yourself against the November chill for seven blocks, letting yourself in with your emergency spare key and grabbing the medical kit from his bathroom on the way up. Patching up Matt was something you were used to by now, but you were incredibly anxious as to why he wanted you to meet him on the roof of his building. Was he hurt that bad? Could he not even make it inside? Should you call Claire?

Your thumb hovered over her number as you ascended the stairs, however as soon as you heard the familiar mix of combative voices, you rolled your eyes and shoved your phone in your pocket. Pushing open the door, you were met with a sight you had become all too accustomed to in the past few months; Matt and Frank at each other’s throats. When they could agree on something and both be level headed, they worked well together. Great, even. But when they disagreed, and were fueled by rage and their own devastating egos, it was like a front row seat to world war three. There were times you’d had to enlist Jessica or Luke just to pry them apart, needing an indestructible wedge between them until they could be civil.

It didn’t take you long to figure out that Frank was the one in need of aid. There was a large tear in his shirt that was normally snug around his bicep, showcasing a jagged view of torn flesh that was dripping violently with crimson. You could make out a few other cuts and bruises that littered his face from the light coming off the obnoxious billboard across the street. It was harder to tell when Matt was hurt, not only because his suit was deep red, but also because he hid it very well. Not that Frank didn’t hide it just as well. They could both be standing in front of you absolutely covered head to toe in blood with visible gashes and holes and still insist that they were fine. There were streaks of blood around Matt’s mouth and nose, but he otherwise appeared to be in good shape. Loudly clearing your throat, you dropped the kit onto the floor by your feet and placed your hands on your hips as both men’s heads whipped around in your direction.

“Can you two pretend to get along for fifteen minutes so I can do what you called me here for, or would you both rather bleed to death on this roof?”

Seven minutes. They made it seven minutes. You had just finished the final stitch on Frank’s arm when a snide comment from Matt had him unraveling in anger all over again. Tonight seemed to be worse than usual. You couldn’t tell if it was due to the pain from their injuries, the exhaustion from the recent sleepless nights, frustration from lead after lead that kept turning into dead ends, a combination of all of the above, or what. They were in each other’s faces, noses barely a centimeter apart, trading insults like verbal punches in an invisible ring. You were shocked Matt had even called you to help patch up Frank with the way his mouth was curled into a glowering snarl towards him, fists bunched tightly at his sides ready to strike at any moment. 

“If you had just fucking listened to me-”

“Because you got it all figured out, don’t ya Red? Huh? You think them fancy fuckin’ senses of yours make you better than me? I was takin’ terrorist organizations down overseas while you were gettin’ shitfaced off cheap booze in your dorm, but heaven forbid I walk into a fuckin’ building without your goddamn say so.”

“Goddammit Frank, I can hear things you can’t. Like when there’s twenty fucking men armed with guns in a building that’s supposed to be-”

“Your priest know you use such colorful language? You tell him that when you’re confessin’ on Sundays? You even tell him ‘bout all the people you beat the shit out of for fun? Or you leave all that out, altar boy?”

“This isn’t a joke, Frank. They were armed with way more ammunition than we planned for, and there were more of them than there should’ve been. They fucking knew we were coming. If you would have just-”

“Nah, nah. If you had fuckin’ listened to me, we would’ve been fine. If you weren’t such a goddamn pussy, and let me do what the fuck I need to do-”

As much as you tried to drown them out, their voices only got louder and louder. Rubbing your temples with your index and middle fingers did absolutely nothing to soothe the dull ache that had begun to throb in your head. God, they were exhausting sometimes. It amazed you how much they changed when they were together. Matt was usually more calm and collected, and Frank was usually quieter. As much as they brought out the best in each other when they did get along, they brought out even more of the worst when they didn’t. It was like they both had a perfect blueprint of where the other’s buttons were, and always knew exactly where to press. That dull ache in your head was beginning to glow like tiny embers waiting to spark. Your fingers had gone numb from the cold through the thin latex gloves. Your patience had run out half an hour ago, or long before that if you were being honest with yourself. You were pissed they had the audacity to drag you out of your warm bed in the middle of the night just to act like you weren’t there, waiting for them to finish their childish bullshit. The irritation had been wearing you down from the second you stepped onto the roof and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Would you both just shut the fuck up already? Seriously? I am so sick of listening to the two of you bitch and bicker about every little fucking thing. I have fucking had it with both of you. If you two can’t get your shit together, I swear to God, I’m going to-”

“What? What are you gonna do, sweetheart?”

If you weren’t pissed off already, the arrogant smirk tugging at the corner of Frank’s lips certainly pushed you over the edge. He cocked his head to the side, staring at you with his dark eyes squinted in levity. One of his thick brows rose in challenge, daring you to continue your rant. 

“Aw c’mon, darlin’. Thirty seconds ago you were all big and bad, runnin’ that bratty little mouth of yours. Now you got nothin’ to say?”

“Get your shit together, or I will beat your ass.”

“I think she means that, Frank.”

“No shit? She ain’t lyin’?”

“Nope. Heartbeat’s steady.”

“Well ain’t that cute.”

The teasing tone of Matt’s voice hitting your ears felt like gasoline being thrown on the fire that was already raging within you. A devilish grin stretched over his mouth, showcasing the dimples in his cheeks that you loved so much. Normally the sight of that smile would make you weak in the knees, but right now it infuriated the fuck out of you. Both men were staring at you in complete amusement, smug grins plastered on their faces, and you wanted nothing more than to walk over and slap them off. 

“Fuck you both.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Matt’s response knocked the breath right out of your lungs, and all your anger with it. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you stared at him, jaw dropping slightly. He had never spoken to you like that. Matt was a natural flirt, that was just his personality. He had definitely said a few things that made you question how he really felt about you, and there were a few “accidental” touches that lingered a little too long, but never anything like that. And certainly never in the voice he typically reserved for interrogating criminals. You were completely stunned in place, brain failing to come up with any kind of response. Even though Matt’s words were phrased as an inquisition, it came out more like a confident statement, like a rhetorical question he already knew the answer to.

“Well?”

Frank’s voice seemed to break the trance Matt had you under, your eyes darting over towards his large figure. Somehow he was now only standing about a foot away from you. When did he get so close? How had you missed that? You were used to Matt sneaking up on you constantly since the man was practically a fucking ninja, but Frank wasn’t as stealthy. He was a lot bigger, moved with more force than precision, and commanded every space he stepped into. 

“What?”

“You gonna answer him?”

Frank’s eyes bore into yours as he motioned his head towards Matt, the intensity of his gaze making you feel as if you had shrunk several sizes in his presence. Sometimes you forgot just how big he was, and how menacing he could be when he wanted to. There was something gleaming in the darkness of his eyes that you couldn’t place. His features were set in their usual broody state apart from his mouth that was still slightly curved in a wicked smirk. A sudden shiver descended your spine, but it wasn’t from the cold. Instinctively you took a step back, blinking a few times before staring down at your trembling hands as you removed the bloody gloves.

“I don’t…look just…clean yourselves up. Try not to kill each other, or piss off Matt’s neighbors any more than you already have.”

“Your hands are shaking.”

“It’s cold, Matthew.”

“But that’s not why your hands are shaking. Is it?”

Glancing up, a slight gasp flew from your mouth noticing that Matt was now standing right next to Frank. His head was cocked towards the right, chin jutted out in your direction, studying you intently. You couldn’t see the beautiful honey brown of his eyes that were hidden behind the obsidian lenses of his mask. His voice had dropped even lower, and your stomach dropped down into a pit of nerves along with it. A sobering thought washed over you that your beloved captivating lawyer was not the one standing in front of you; the Devil was. This wasn’t exactly new to you. Sometimes Matt had trouble shifting back into a level-headed state after particularly bad nights, or when patrols left his adrenaline pumping through his veins like rocket fluid. You had witnessed the battle on several occasions between Matthew Murdock and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen for control. But this was…different. He was eerily calm and still, and it made you nervous.

“This ain’t like you, sweetheart. Bein’ all mouthy, actin’ like a damn brat, not answerin’ questions when asked. Where’s our good girl, hm?”

The mega-watt grin that immediately took over Matt’s mouth could have put that blinding billboard behind him to fucking shame.

“Oh, she liked that Frank.”

“Did she?”

“Should’ve heard the way her heart jumped. You are our good girl, aren’t you angel?”

The connection between your brain and your mouth had been severed. You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t hardly breathe. Your wide eyes flickered back and forth in dumbfoundment between the two men standing in front of you. Surely, you were hearing them wrong. Were they messing with you? Where was all this coming from? What the fuck was happening?

“C’mon darlin’, use that pretty little head of yours and talk to us. Red asked you a question, yeah?”

There was a hint of teasing that laced Frank’s gravelly voice as his eyes remained fixated on you. Your head was spinning like a rogue carousel and your heart was thrashing to break through your ribcage.

“I…I don’t understand-”

“I think you do, angel. You’re a smart girl, but you’re not subtle. We know what you want, and we’re more than happy to give it to you. Isn’t that right, Frank?”

“S’right, Red. We think you’ve earned it, sweetheart. Takin’ such good care of us, puttin’ up with all our shit, always there when we need ya. We’d like to return the favor, darlin’.”

“See angel, the one thing Frank and I absolutely agree on, is how pretty you’re gonna sound when we ruin you.”

Matt’s confession struck your core like lightning and tore a startled moan of desperation from your throat. His grin stretched even further across his sinful lips, a dark chuckle emitting from low within his chest. Frank’s eyebrows rose a hair in surprise, only for a moment, before that crooked, teeth baring smile of his was back on full display. He joined Matt in sinister snickering, like there was some kind of inside joke you weren’t a part of.

“Do me a favor, Red. Put them damn senses of yours to good use and tell me how wet she is right now.”

There was never a battle with Frank. There was never anyone else fighting for control. With Frank, what you saw was exactly what you got. There was no slipping back and forth, no struggle, there was just…him. Unabashed, unapologetic, shameless Frank. He didn’t hide it when he flirted with you. He didn’t mince words, or speak in riddles. He always said exactly what he meant so there was never any confusing his words or motives. He never pushed it any further than playful banter and flirty remarks, but he also didn’t hide behind the guise of friendly teasing. The order he gave Matt caused your brain to short circuit and you were honestly surprised it hadn’t knocked you onto your knees. Matt’s lips parted slightly, just enough for his tongue to meet the air as he inhaled deeply. A satisfied hum sounded in the back of his throat.

“Not nearly as wet as she’s going to be. But she smells fucking divine.”

“Bet she tastes even better.”

“I can’t wait to find out.”

The next few minutes passed by in a bit of a blur. Frank had thrown you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing more than the duffel bag he hauled around, carrying you down the steps into Matt’s living room with haste. Matt trailed closely behind the two of you, quickly removing his gloves and helmet somewhere along the way. Before you could even register being put back down on wobbly legs, two large hands grabbed your face and a strong pair of lips met your own. Frank.

The kiss was full of passion but surprisingly tender, a sigh of relief echoing in your mouth from him. Frank kissed you deeply, but slowly, wanting to savor the feeling and the taste of you. Matt managed to sneak his hand between your bodies, tugging at the zipper of your jacket and pulling it off your shoulders with ease. He pulled down the left sleeve of your thin sweater, trailing his lips along the exposed skin before nipping and sucking at the junction above your collarbone. The scruff of his facial hair contrasted roughly with the softness of his lips and it made your mind even hazier, a moan tumbling into Frank’s mouth. Matt growled lowly, gripping onto your hips and pulling your ass against his front abruptly so you could feel how hard he was through his suit, earning another whine from you. His hand was nearly halfway into your jeans when Frank reached out to grab his wrist, halting his movements.

“Quit bein’ fuckin’ impatient. We got all damn night.”

“You hear the sounds she’s making Frank?”

“Yeah, and I’d like to hear a lot more of ‘em you selfish little shit.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. Here you were, trapped between two of the most feared men in Hell’s Kitchen, with both of their mouths and hands all over you, and they were still arguing. Your giggles were immediately cut off however when Matt’s teeth sunk down into the flesh of your neck, a surprised moan taking their place. Frank lightly grasped your chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head back against Matt’s chest as he caught your gaze. His tongue darted out to wet his lips quickly, motioning his head towards you.

“You want this, sweetheart?”

All you could do was stare up at Frank with half moon eyes. Your brain seemed incapable of manufacturing a single coherent thought. You were too wrapped up in how good it felt to be caged between them. How good it felt to kiss Frank, to be touched by Matt, to be desired by them both. All you could do was feebly nod.

“Need to hear it, pretty girl. Need you to tell us you want us too.”

Matt’s grip on your waist loosened slightly, his nose nuzzling against your cheek as he softly kissed the underside of your jaw and whispered delicately in your ear.

“You can say no, angel. We can all walk away right now, pretend this never happened. We won’t be upset.”

“We never wanna make you uncomfortable, honey. Just wanna make you feel good.”

“Would you like us to make you feel good, sweetheart? Take care of you for all the times you’ve taken care of us? Whatever you want, we’ll give you. Just tell us what you want.”

“Please…”

Frank’s large hand loosely wrapped around your neck, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip slowly as he stared down at you with a timid smile.

“Please what, sweet girl? Hm? Use your words. You want us? You got us. We’re yours. Just say the words.”

Matt slipped his hand underneath the hem of your sweater, tracing slow delicate circles along your hip as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. He placed a featherlight kiss to your burning skin, the edge in his voice from earlier now gone as he whispered sweetly.

“We’re all yours, angel. Always have been. Just tell us you want us too.”

Matt and Frank both put an inch of space between their bodies and yours, as if they could sense how difficult their presence was making it hard for you to think clearly. They were giving you an out if you wanted it. You knew this would completely change everything between the three of you. There would be no going back to how things were before. This decision was permanent, and couldn’t be undone. But God, did you want it. You wanted them. You were momentarily suspended in disbelief that they wanted you too, but you were having an arduous time focusing on why they wanted you, when they had come to this agreement regarding you, and what the morning would look like. The only thing your brain could process was the pure, irrevocable yearning you felt.

You trusted Matt and Frank with your life. You knew you could trust them with your body. The safest you ever felt was in their presence. The safest place you could ever be was confined between them. You wanted them. You loved them. You needed to be consumed by them. 

“I need both of you, please.”

If either of them heard the aching in your divulgence, neither of them acknowledged it. Matt’s fingertips brushed lightly along your sides as he pulled your sweater over your head, eliciting a domino of shivers throughout your body. Your own trembling fingers gingerly pushed Frank’s torn and bloodied shirt up, careful to avoid his fresh injuries along the way. As you sought out his lips, his large hands maneuvered your hips until you were face to face with Matt, his nose brushing against the column of your throat.

“Help Red outta that damn thing, would ya? Otherwise we’ll be here all fuckin’ night.”

A furrow formed between Matt’s brows and his lips parted to protest, but his words were quickly cut off when you grabbed his face to crash your lips together. His hands gripped onto your waist just above where Frank’s had settled, a satisfied groan echoing on your tongue. Matt’s kiss was hungrier, more possessive and needy than Frank’s, and it made your head spin. As your fingers worked at the zipper on Matt’s suit, Frank’s were swiftly popping the button on your jeans and tugging your own zipper down. He left a searing trail of open mouthed kisses from right beneath your ear to down along your shoulder as his large hand slipped beneath the waistband of your panties. Greedily peeling the material of Matt’s suit off his broad shoulders, you instinctively bit down on his bottom lip when Frank’s index finger made contact with your clit. Matt moaned at the feeling of your teeth holding his lip captive, shoving the rest of his suit off with impressive speed leaving him only clad in black briefs with a noticeable tent.

“Goddamn, sweetheart. You’ve got these completely soaked through. I guess Red was right.”

You could feel Matt’s prideful smile against your own mouth at Frank’s words as you threaded your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him even more flush against your own body. He groaned again in satisfaction at the gentle tug, and you were suddenly curious what other delicious sounds you could pull out of him. Before you could experiment, Frank slipped one of his thick fingers inside of you and a loud moan filled the empty space.

“Fuck she’s tight. Gonna have to get you nice and ready for us, yeah? Think two oughta do it, Red?”

“She’s been such a good girl, Frank. Let’s give her three.”

“Hm, she has, hasn’t she? S’pose that way we both get a taste then.”

Your head fell back against Frank’s chest as he pumped his finger slowly, already rendering you a whiny incoherent mess. You could just briefly register Matt kneeling before you, grabbing the waistband of your jeans and tugging them down your legs. His touch was lighter when his fingers slipped underneath the sides of your panties, trailing them along your skin with more precise teasing. Matt rubbed his nose along your inner thigh, humming softly as he ever so languidly pulled the fabric down your legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He gently brushed his fingertips over your ankles, along the sides of your calves, up the backs of your knees, until he had a firm grip on your thighs.

“Looks awful pretty down there on his knees for ya, don’t he?”

Frank was right. Matt did look good on his knees before you, head tipped back and eyes closed in content, lips parted slightly as he inhaled your scent from the source. Suddenly you wanted both of them on their knees for you. Or maybe you wanted to be on your knees for both of them. You reached out with a trembling hand to grab a small fistful of Matt’s hair, moaning softly as Frank slipped a second finger inside you.

“Look so pretty, Matty.”

Matt’s eyes fluttered open, staring blankly up in your direction as a toothy grin took over his entire face showcasing your beloved dimples.

“Not as pretty as you, angel.”

“I think Red deserves a little treat for bein’ so patient, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Yes, Frankie.”

“How ‘bout that, Red? You want a little taste?”

“God, yes.”

“On your feet. You take over.”

If you hadn’t been so wrapped up in your own pleasure, you would’ve been amazed at how quickly Matt followed Frank’s command without an ounce of hesitation or complaint. You whined momentarily as Frank’s fingers slipped out of you, only to quickly be replaced with Matt’s index finger and his thumb pressed firmly against your clit earning another loud moan from you. 

“Open your mouth.”

Once again, Matt quickly complied, parting his plump kiss bitten lips. Your walls clenched around Matt’s finger and a pathetic moan slipped out as you watched Frank shove his two fingers drenched in your slick straight into Matt’s mouth. Matt’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head when your taste met his tongue, eagerly sucking every single drop off of Frank’s fingers. Frank grunted quietly near your ear as Matt moaned softly around his digits. It was the hottest fucking sight you had ever seen.

“Attaboy, Red. Tell me how she tastes.”

Frank retracted his fingers from Matt’s mouth slowly, leaving his lips shining with a coat of spit. His hand quickly found its place once again between your thighs and there seemed to be some kind of unspoken understanding between the two as Matt twisted his wrist to make room for Frank’s hand, allowing Frank to take over stretching you apart as his own fingers worked over your clit to help bring you to your release.

“So fucking good, Frank. Sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever had. You’re not gonna be able to get enough.”

“Like I said, we got all night.”

You could die like this, trapped between two walls of soft skin and hard muscle, their skilled hands working together to bring you absolute bliss. You were thankful they had you completely trapped between their chests because otherwise, you wouldn’t have been able to stand. The pleasure was absolutely overwhelming. It was everywhere, all at once, and you weren’t sure if you could survive the fall. You had never felt anything like this. You didn’t even know you could feel like this. That little bubble that normally built up inside you was now simmering like a giant pit of lava inside a volcano dangerously close to erupting. You couldn’t even form the words to warn them, but with the undivided attention of Matt’s senses, you didn’t have to. 

“She’s close, Frank. Keep doing that, right there. That’s it…hold her steady. It’s alright, angel. Just let go for us. We’ve got you, sweetheart.”

“Go ahead, darlin’. C’mon, let us hear those pretty sounds. Don’t hold back, honey. Let us have it all, yeah?”

The edge was painfully far away, just within reach. You were so goddamn close. It just felt too fucking good. You didn’t know if your body was holding out because you just couldn’t handle it, or because it wanted more. Just when it felt like you couldn’t make it, suddenly you were exploding into a million little pieces of gratification and being hurled into the free falling space of absolute bliss. Two pairs of strong hands supported you as you spasmed from the force of the pleasure. Two voices echoed praises and sweet nothings into your ears as you floated outside your own body. Two hearts thudded against your back and chest in sync as they adorned you in their affection. 

Rough calloused fingertips trailed along your cheekbone tenderly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as soft lips traced the shell of your ear. 

“Shh. We got ya, sweetheart. We’re right here, yeah? Easy now, breathe.”

Matt wrapped his arm around your lower back, hooking his other underneath your knees as he pried you from Frank’s embrace and lifted you up bridal style, holding you against his chest. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Frank. Get undressed. I’ll take her to bed.”

You weakly brought your hand up to Matt’s neck, wrapping your fingers around the cross necklace that settled between his collarbones. The metal felt surprisingly cool against his heated skin, and the deep inhale you took to control your breathing filled your senses with his intoxicating cologne. You carefully traced one of the scars on the left side of his chest with your fingertip as you crossed the threshold into his bedroom.

“Matty?”

“Yes angel?”

“I like it when you and Frankie get along.”

“Tell him to quit bein’ such a shithead all the time, and you’ll get more of it.”

“And here I was about to be nice and let you have the first taste, Castle. Why don’t you get on your knees and put that fucking mouth of yours to good use. Don’t keep her waiting.”

Matt carefully set you down on the edge of the bed, moving to sit right behind you with his chest pressed flush against your back. You noticed the commanding tone he used with Frank was the exact same one he used in the courtroom when he wasn’t in the mood for bullshit or rebuttal. For the millionth time that night, you were shocked when Frank simply grunted in response instead of verbally retaliating, lowering himself down onto his knees in front of you. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of Frank nearly naked before you. You had seen him shirtless a few times when he needed fixing up, but never only in briefs before. The fabric clung to his muscular thighs like a second skin, and it made your mouth water the exact same way it did whenever you saw Matt only in his underwear. Your brows furrowed slightly at the sudden realization that Frank had done exactly what Matt instructed in the living room. Since when did they ever follow each other’s orders? And so easily?

“Spread those legs, angel. Let him see you.”

Frank moved in closer towards you as you obeyed Matt’s order, his broad shoulders pushing your thighs even further apart. His large hands slowly made their way from your knees to your inner thighs, his thumbs tracing the softest circles along your skin. You had always wondered about Frank and what he would be like intimately. For a guy who could take down thirty men with his bare hands without batting an eye, he was incredibly gentle. His touch was delicate and reassuring, like he was afraid he might break you, but wanted you to know he was there. Matt wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you tightly against his chest, his other brushing your hair off your shoulder as he kissed your neck softly. He was more like what you had expected. Dominant and possessive, like he had something to prove. Whether that was to you or himself, you weren’t sure. Maybe it was both. He wanted you to know you were at his mercy, and that you belonged to him. Well, him and Frank. 

The only exception to all of Matt’s rules seemed to be Frank now that you thought about it. He was willing to ignore his own moral compass and religious teachings in certain situations involving Frank. He came to Frank’s defense constantly, even if he knew he was in the wrong and would personally give him shit about his choices later. He relinquished control earlier in the living room and followed every single one of Frank’s commands, something he would never do with anyone else. Frank seemed to be the only person Matt willingly submitted to. And despite his overprotective nature, he was sharing you with Frank. Matt seemed to be Frank’s own personal outlier as well. Frank always worked alone. He hated involving other people in what he did, not wanting to deal with the risks and consequences, and just another person in general. It was easier when all he had to worry about was himself. But he had no trouble dragging Matt into the flames at a moment's notice, and never hesitated to reach out to him for help or backup. No matter how much they fought, Frank always purposefully put himself between Matt and whatever threat was coming their way, even if it was just some drunk asshole in a bar trying to pick a fight he knew Matt could easily win. As much as they argued, Frank did actually listen to Matt most of the time, and Matt secretly took Frank’s advice when he knew he was right. They were both just too fucking stubborn to admit that to one another.

“Now who looks pretty on their knees, hm?”

“Frankie does.”

“Tell him, angel. Tell him how pretty he looks on his knees for you.”

You reached your shaky hand out to cup Frank’s cheek, sighing softly at the way he nuzzled his face into your palm. His deep brown eyes were hooded with lust as he stared up at you lovingly, causing your heart to constrict in your chest. He really was beautiful, especially when he smiled. It had taken so long for Frank to open up to you, for you to get to see the happier and more carefree side of him, hear him crack jokes and his amazing laugh. It was always like witnessing some cosmic phenomena, and it made you feel incredibly lucky he wanted to share those parts of himself with you.

“Look so pretty, Frankie. So pretty.”

A lazy grin captured Frank’s lips as he looked at you, turning his head slightly to press a gentle kiss to your palm.

“Thank ya, sweetheart. But I gotta agree with Red here. Ain’t nothin’ as pretty as you.”

“Tell me what you see, Frank. Describe her for me.”

Even though it was a demand, there was an echo of desperation in Matt’s voice. Frank’s eyes softened a little more as they flickered behind you to Matt’s face, the smile faltering on his lips, lingering only for a moment before he let his eyes trail over the expanse of your body. The look was so quick, you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been paying attention. 

“She looks beautiful, Red. So goddamn beautiful. Let me show you.”

Frank spent the next few minutes describing you from head to toe in explicit detail like you were a piece of art on display in Matt’s lap. He gingerly wrapped his hand around Matt’s wrist, directing his fingers along every inch of your body in sync with his own words. Your heart swelled at how gentle Frank was being with Matt, and how much Matt trusted Frank with his own concealed vulnerability to guide him. You weren’t sure if it was your own shuddering breaths or Matt’s that were echoing in your ears at the mix of both men’s hands tracing your skin. Frank’s gruff voice nestled between your thighs as he spoke, as if he was reciting poetry to create a clear picture in Matt’s head. You grabbed onto both of their wrists and squeezed gently, nearly on the verge of tears from how overwhelmed you felt by their shared affection for you and for each other. Matt’s voice was almost hoarse as he spoke quietly.

“Thank you, Frank. Now show her how beautiful she is.” 

For the next hour and a half, Frank and Matt took turns on their knees with their heads buried in your needy cunt. They alternated spots, one pressed up against your back teasing your nipples and fondling your breasts with their mouth latched on your neck as they praised you while the other held your hips hostage against their face with your legs over their shoulders, using their skilled tongue to bring you to euphoria. 

Frank took his time with you, slowly delving his tongue inside you over and over as his large nose continuously bumped against your clit. His grip was firm, but tender, letting you rock your hips against his face as much as you wanted as you tugged him impossibly closer by his dark tresses. He grunted every time you pulled at his grown out hair and the vibrations had your thighs quivering and sent your mind into a frenzy. He drew your orgasm out as long as he could, groaning against your core as he collected every single drop of the ambrosia that he wrung from you. 

Matt tried so hard to take his time with you, but he was so overwhelmed by your scent and his own carnal desire that he couldn’t help himself. He had Frank restrain your hands as he edged you, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he dug his fingertips into your skin. He sucked fervently on your clit, filling the bedroom with obscene slurping sounds as he devoured your pussy. Frank helped hold you in place so Matt could get what he wanted. Every time he could feel you about to come, Matt would slow down and give himself a moment to breathe before diving right back in. He didn’t want it to be over so fast, but he also wasn’t fully able to contain his own selfish need. He would’ve stayed buried between your thighs all night if you let him. 

Eventually Frank couldn’t take your pleading cries of his and Matt’s names anymore and lightly slapped at the back of Matt’s head. When he went to pull away again, Frank grabbed a fistful of Matt’s hair and shoved his face right back into your cunt.

“C’mon Red, listen to her. Let her come. You’ve had your fill, you can come back for more later. She ain’t goin’ nowhere. Let her have it.”

As you descended from your third orgasm of the night, your body felt completely spent. Your eyes felt heavy as you struggled to keep them open, not wanting to miss a second of this spectacle. If this was a one time thing, you wanted every part of it burned into your memory for later, because nothing would ever be as good as this. Frank shifted slightly behind you, and you felt the hardness of his cock brushing against your lower back. A slight gasp left your lips once you realized just how long both of them had been patiently waiting for their own attention. Matt had already been completely hard when he removed his suit, and you had felt the bulge in Frank’s jeans against your ass. A spark of energy jolted you awake as you were suddenly filled with the urge to have your own turn on your knees. 

Frank’s grip tightened on your waist when he felt you move at the exact same time as Matt’s hands clamped down even harder on your thighs.

“Where you goin’, sweetheart?”

“I…what about you and Matty?”

“What about us, angel?”

“I wanna make you feel good too.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout us, honey. Red here is finally gonna make it to heaven when you let him inside that pretty little pussy of yours.”

“And Frank is gonna be so fucking satisfied when he comes inside you, he might not be a complete asshole for an entire week.”

You tried your hardest to wiggle out of their grasps but it was no use. They were a lot stronger than you, and they weren’t budging. You whined as they both chuckled at your pathetic attempt to escape them, seeking out the erect tent in their briefs with your needy hands.

“But I wanna touch…I wanna taste you both, too. Please?”

“This is s’posed to be about you, honey.”

“No, that’s not fair. This is for all of us, not just me. It’s just as much for you and Matty. Isn’t it? Don’t you want my mouth, Frank?”

“Fuckin’ hell sweetheart, course I do.”

“Don’t you Matty?”

“I’d love nothing more than to fuck your mouth, angel. But I’m afraid right now, I’m way too fucking hard, and I wouldn’t be able to last. I don’t want to come unless it’s inside you.”

“I gotta side with Red on this one, darlin’.”

“But-“

Matt’s hand quickly wrapped around the base of your throat as he leaned in to capture your lips, cutting off your protest entirely. He applied just enough pressure to make your head spin, nipping lightly at your bottom lip before soothing the sting with his tongue.

“Next time.”

Your eyes flew open, grabbing onto Matt’s wrist tightly as he loosened his grip on your neck. He was sitting up on his knees now so that you were face to face, a tender smile tugging lightly at the corners of his mouth. Blinking a few times, you turned your head so that you could look up at Frank.

“Next time?”

Frank glanced down at Matt before looking back at you, a shy smile taking over the left side of his mouth. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips, placing his hand at the base of your neck right below where Matt’s was.

“Next time.”

You immediately gave up on your protest and allowed Frank to pull your body up the bed as he moved backwards. You felt giddy with anticipation, your brain going completely haywire as both of their promises rang deafeningly in your ears.

Next time. There was going to be a next time. 

“How you feelin’ honey? Think you can give us one more?”

“Yes…yes anything.”

Matt chuckled lowly at the desperation in your voice as he climbed onto the bed in front of you.

“Such a good girl. Still taking care of us when it’s our turn to care for you. Tell you what, if you help me out of these, you can touch me. But you have to help Frank too. Can you do that for us, angel?”

“Yes, God yes. Please Matty…let me help.”

“Alright sweetheart, go ahead.”

Your nimble fingers dragged Matt’s briefs down his thighs as soon as he finished his sentence, causing you to gasp when his cock finally sprang free and slapped against his stomach. A quiet sigh of relief left his lips. The head was nearly as deep in maroon as his suit and leaking with desire. As you wrapped your hand delicately around the base of his impressive length, a louder declaration of appeasement slipped past Matt’s lips, jaw going slack and hips jolting forward when you swiped your thumb across the sensitive tip. 

“Fuck.”

“Easy darlin’, Red’s sensitive. He’s been waitin’ patiently this whole time like a good boy. Ain’t he? Be good to him.”

Matt let out a quiet whimper, and you weren’t sure if it was from Frank’s words or the way you were gently pumping your hand around his cock but it had your walls fluttering either way. You could tell Matt was doing everything he could to not fuck your hand, bottom lip caught between his teeth so hard blood pooled beneath the skin, hips stuttering ever so slightly in time with your movements. His face was a mix of lingering agony and pure pleasure and it piqued your curiosity about just how sensitive he was.

“Are you okay Matty? Do you want me to stop?”

“I…just-shit…fuck that feels good. I-”

“Make him come, sweetheart.”

“Frank-”

“Don’t be stubborn. You’ll be ready to go again in five minutes and you know it. Stop fuckin’ torturin’ yourself. Go ahead and give him your mouth, darlin’.”

“But that’s not-”

“Would you just shut the hell up? You ever stop talkin’? Consider it a goddamn peace offerin’. I can wait. I’m not as sensitive and overwhelmed as you. Just fuckin’ take what you’re given, shit. You’re gonna come in two minutes anyway.”

“God-fuck…fine. You get to fuck her first, then.”

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya. Sweetheart, be a good girl and do as you’re told. Let Red have your mouth.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as you parted your lips to take the head of Matt’s cock into your mouth, he was shoving himself down your throat. His hands frantically gripped onto your neck and the back of your head, holding your face in place as he fucked your mouth relentlessly. You opened your mouth as wide as you could and hollowed out your cheeks, wanting to provide him as much pleasure and satisfaction as he had given you. The moans and whines of appreciation that tumbled from his mouth were fucking music to your ears. He looked so beautiful above you, head thrown back in ecstasy and eyes squeezed shut in absolute content. A loud slap cut through Matt’s symphony of fulfillment and his eyes snapped open, slowing the pace of his hips considerably as his brows furrowed in confusion. It took a moment for you to realize that Frank had slapped one of Matt’s hands away from your face.

“Slow down, Matthew. I said use her mouth, not suffocate her. Ease up.”

Your stomach clenched at the hardened warning tone of Frank’s voice. It was also the first time you had ever heard him call Matt by anything other than his nickname for him. Something about it seemed so intimate, and it set your insides ablaze. Matt tipped his head down in your direction, clenching his jaw as he struggled to gain control of himself.

“Fuck…sorry angel, I’m-shit…God just feels so fucking good. Your mouth is so warm…soft. Shit- if this is what your mouth feels like…God-”

You hummed in response, giving his thigh a gentle squeeze and beginning to bob your head to signal for him to keep going. It only took a few more thrusts before warmth coated the back of your throat with a vengeance over and over as Matt finally climaxed. You thanked whatever God was listening that you got to witness the exquisite sight above you of Matt Murdock having an orgasm. It made butterflies erupt in your belly thinking about how soon you’d get to witness the exact same phenomena with Frank Castle.

Matt fell back onto his heels as his chest heaved, panting like he had just ran a fucking marathon. A swell of pride filled your chest as you swallowed every single drop he had offered you, a newfound wave of confidence settling in your veins at the sight of him disheveled before you knowing that you had done that to him. You had brought the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen to his knees and rendered him breathless. And you had no intention of stopping there. 

All night, both of them had been trading control with each other, taking turns in making demands. You weren’t in the mood to trade or take turns. You were in the mood to take. 

As you turned around to face Frank who had a cocky smirk on his lips, you channeled all the power surging through you and shoved roughly at his chest until his back hit the mattress. His body bounced slightly from the impact, the arrogance long gone as his mouth fell open in surprise.

“Take those off.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I said take them off, Frank. Be a good soldier and follow your orders.”

Frank’s jaw hung suspended in disbelief. His eyes widened at your command and his pupils dilated slightly. Shock was written clearly across his features, but he obeyed anyway. The second his briefs were down his thighs, your hand was wrapped firmly around his massive cock and he grunted lowly in response.

“You both asked me what I wanted, didn’t you?”

“Yes but-”

“And I said I wanted to touch, didn't I? That I wanted a taste of my own?”

“But we agreed-”

“I changed my mind. You both got to play. It’s my turn. You’d never deny me, would you, Frankie?”

“Angel, we all agreed-”

“Shut up, Matthew. I wasn’t speaking to you. I asked Frank. Frankie, baby?”

“Fuck, course not.”

A cheshire grin split your lips as you slowly worked Frank over in your hand, reveling in the feeling of his velvet heaviness in your palm. His eyes were trained directly on you, watching your every movement. Besides his lust blown pupils and parted lips, he wasn’t giving anything away. The man had been trained to withstand all kinds of torture with an impeccable poker face, but you weren’t having any of that.

“Good. You’re always so good to me, Frankie. You’ve treated me so well tonight, and I know you wanna keep doing that. Don’t you? You wanna fuck me, don’t you?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Then you’re gonna let me play. I can’t have one of my boys taken care of, and not the other. Matthew gets a pass tonight. He was so worked up for so long, and we know it’s hard for him to keep control sometimes. But you’re very good at control, aren’t you Frankie? You’re gonna let me have what he wouldn’t?”

“Yeah…whatever the hell you want.”

“Good boy. Matthew, sit next to Frank. No touching, just listen. You better be ready to go by the time Frank comes in my mouth. Do you understand?”

“Yes…I understand.”

“That’s my good boy. You’ve both made me so proud tonight. Getting along, taking turns, being so good to me, being so good to each other. When I get done with Frankie, we’re all going to get what we want. I can’t wait to have you both. I’ve wanted both of you for so long. Just be patient a little longer, Matty. Let me take care of Frank. He hasn’t gotten to come yet tonight, and that’s not fair to him. Is it?”

Matt crawled around you towards the headboard, settling back against the pillows next to Frank as he stretched his legs out. His chest was still rising and falling rapidly, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes darted back and forth blankly. His cock was already half hard as he shook his head slowly, lightly fisting at the sheets beside him.

“No…no it isn’t. Let him. He deserves it.”

If you could take a picture with your eyes, you would frame the magnificent sight before you above your fucking bed. Frank and Matt, in all their nude glory, shoulder to shoulder beneath you, mouthwatering cocks standing at full alert waiting for your attention. It was impossible not to be filled with condescension when the two most powerful men in all of New York that could easily tear you apart with their bare hands were willingly submitting to your dictation.

Frank stared you down as you lowered yourself between his massive thighs, wrapping your lips around the swollen head of his cock to take into your mouth. He sucked in a deep breath, thighs tensing beside your head as you took him deeper. He was bigger than Matt, which was to be expected due to his stature, but you were determined to fit as much of him into your mouth as you could. You took your time at first, swirling your tongue around the tip slowly before sliding him back down against your tongue. You marveled at the shuddering breaths released from his mouth, but you wanted more.

“Don’t be shy, Frankie. I wanna hear your pretty sounds too.”

It hadn’t taken much to figure out Matt was the more vocal of the two, but you were adamant about breaking Frank’s composure. A quiet grunt sounded from him as you squeezed your hand around the section of him that wouldn’t quite fit in your mouth.

“Tell her how it feels, Frank.”

Matt sounded almost breathless as he spoke, and his eyes were wild with hunger as you glanced over at him.

“Feels good, sweetheart. Feels real damn good.”

“C’mon Frank, you can do better than that. It’s just us. Let it out like I know you can.”

Matt’s words had a fresh wave of arousal slicking your inner thighs. You had so many fucking questions for them. There was clearly something here you were missing. Something they were keeping from you, and you desperately wanted to know everything. Frank’s eyes never left yours, and they were growing darker by the second as if something was brewing behind them. It made your stomach twist with anticipation. You flattened your tongue against the slit on his tip, sucking fervently on the head as your hand twisted around the rest of him. Frank groaned loudly as he weaved his fingers through your hair, giving it a gentle tug.

“There you go. You can pull harder, she likes that. Don’t you angel?”

You moaned in response around Frank’s cock, causing him to let out a heavy grunt as he pulled roughly at your roots. His hips had started to shift upwards in rhythm with your movements, and you’d let him do whatever he wanted as long as he kept making sounds like that.

“Goddamn. You know how to use that mouth, yeah? Shit-no wonder he came so fast.”

“Just think about how good the rest of her is gonna feel. How pretty does she look right now?”

“So fuckin’ pretty. Fuck…wish you could see her. Looks so goddamn good with those pretty lips wrapped ‘round our cocks. Wish we could trade eyes for a minute.”

Only Frank Castle and Matt Murdock were capable of saying such filthy words that also simultaneously warmed your heart. Matt’s lips curved upwards in a delicate smile composed of pure admiration, and it made you melt. You reached your hand out that wasn’t working on Frank to grab onto one of Matt’s, lacing your fingers together and squeezing gently. Frank choked out a moan of surprise when you suddenly took him as deep as you could, feeling his tip brush against the back of your throat and holding him there for a minute until you had to come up for air.

“Fuckin’-shit…do that again. Fuck please…please sweetheart.”

Bracing your palm against Frank’s thigh, you took him once again as deep into your throat as you could, forcing yourself to breathe through your nose. A cry of your name tore through Frank’s chest as he gripped roughly onto your hair, and all at once a steady stream of heat coated the back of your throat. Frank bucked his hips slightly as you swallowed around him, squeezing Matt’s hand tightly as Frank released himself from your mouth.

“Fuck, I want next.”

“Jesus Christ you insatiable bastard, you already had your goddamn turn.”

Matt threw his head back against one of the pillows as he burst into a howl of laughter, bracing his palm against his chest.

“That was before I knew she could do that.”

“Well if you hadn’t been so fuckin’-”

“Boys, please. We’re not finished here.”

“I need a minute, darlin’. Think you just sucked the fuckin’ soul outta me, Jesus.”

Matt absolutely lost it, doubling over in a fit of laughter as your cheeks flamed with heat at Frank’s words. You couldn’t help but giggle, trying to cover your mouth as Frank shot you an insincere glare coupled with a coveted smirk. You hadn’t even noticed Matt had moved behind you until you felt his hands on your waist and the warmth of his breath on your neck.

“Alright, sweet girl. How about you and I start, hm? I bet Frank will be ready to go once he hears those pretty noises of yours. Besides, he likes to watch.”

A sudden gasp flew from your mouth as Matt guided you to straddle Frank’s hips, wondering how the hell he possibly knew that about Frank. God you were reeling with questions.

“I thought he was fucking me first?”

“That was before he got to come. He’s not left out anymore, is he?”

“I…no.”

“Castle?”

“Go ahead. Be with ya in a minute, sweetheart.”

Frank shot you a wink that would’ve made you fall to your knees had you not already been on them. Matt placed his palm on your lower back, pushing gently so that you were bent over Frank slightly. Frank grabbed onto your hip with one hand, his other coming up to brush his thumb along your cheekbone slowly as he stared up into your eyes. The tenderness and desire in them was so dizzying, it was almost overwhelming. You gripped onto Frank’s shoulders as Matt carefully pushed the blunt head of his cock past your folds, gasping sharply at the slight burn of the stretch.

“Shh…I’ve got you. Just relax for me, sweetheart.”

Matt’s lips brushed delicately along the shell of your ear, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself. A slow moan cascaded from your mouth as he sank his entire length into you, his hand gripping tightly onto your other hip. Matt rested his forehead against your back for a moment once his hips were flush against your ass, an incredulous moan emitting from him.

“Breathe, honey. He’s gonna take care of you, yeah? Ain’t gonna hurt you.”

Frank grunted quietly as you dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving crescent shaped indentations as Matt fucked you slowly from behind. Matt had brought his other hand up to loosely wrap around your throat, pressing his front firmly to your back so there wasn’t even a centimeter of space between you. Matt growled in your ear and it had you clenching around him tightly. 

“Fuck sweetheart…feels even fucking better than I ever imagined. So warm…so tight. Take me so fucking well, angel. So fucking well.”

“Matty…”

“You can take Frank too, can’t you?”

Your eyes flew open and you stared down at Frank almost in panic. Matt made you feel so deliciously full. You could feel every ridge and vein as his cock dragged along your walls. You stared down into Frank’s eyes anxiously, all your confidence from earlier seemingly evaporating from your pores. Frank smiled softly up at you, leaning in to brush his lips against yours.

“S’okay if you can’t honey. If it’s too much, s’alright.”

Could you handle them both? The thought seemed ridiculous. Your body was designed to push out a small human, of course you could. But you were nervous. Your cunt had a vice grip on Matt, and Frank was bigger. It would burn, but God it would feel so good once that sting went away. You couldn’t imagine having one without the other. Not anymore. You wanted them both.

“Please Frank…I-I can. I can.”

Matt pressed his cheek against yours as his hand tightened slightly around your neck, digging his fingers a little harder into your hip.

“That’s our girl.”

Frank searched your eyes for any hesitation. He pushed your legs further apart with one of his knees, grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing the head against your clit a few times. Your body jolted forward at the sensation and Matt groaned loudly in your ear. 

“Gonna have to move her a bit.”

“Here.”

Matt pressed his hand against your back until you were laying flat against Frank’s chest, putting his knees on either side of Frank’s. He grabbed onto your hips firmly, raising them a bit so that your back was arched slightly and your ass was pressed against his lower abdomen. Frank gripped onto your waist, pressing his forehead against yours as he positioned himself beneath you.

“Deep breath, sweetheart.”

As Frank pushed the head of his cock through your folds to join Matt, your mouth dropped completely open. Matt stilled behind you as Frank eased his entire length into you inch by spectacular inch. Your mouth still hung open, but you couldn’t make a sound. Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head, and you had to squeeze them shut as you tried to remember how to breathe. A burning sensation seared between your thighs as they both stretched you apart from the inside. It felt like they were fucking splitting you in half. It was almost too much. Matt’s fingers loosened around your throat and his deep voice echoed in your ears.

“Breathe, angel. Let us know when we can move. Take your time.”

You sucked in a gasp of oxygen like you had just emerged from the pits of the ocean. They were everywhere. You could hardly tell where one of you ended and the other began. Frank leaned in to kiss you softly, cradling your face in his large hand. Matt once again slipped his hand between you and Frank, carefully tracing circles over your clit to combat the pain with pleasure. You had never felt so full. So content. So loved.

One of your hands reached behind you to grab onto Matt’s neck as your other gripped onto Frank’s shoulder. You experimentally tried rocking your hips, crying out from the sting of the stretch and the jolts of pleasure that followed.

“God…please…please…”

Matt and Frank started to move their hips in tandem slowly, keeping an intricate pace as you adjusted to having both of them inside you. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before. You slowly felt your muscles begin to relax as the tension dissipated, your body feeling looser as pleasure began to overtake the pain. 

“How’s that feel, sweetheart?”

“So fucking good, Frankie.”

Frank’s lips stretched into a proud grin as he brushed his nose against yours, holding your face in his large hand.

“Knew you could, honey. Didn’t we?”

“We knew you’d take us so well, angel.”

Matt pulled back slightly as he felt you getting more comfortable, and your body accommodating them both more easily. He situated himself on his knees behind you, gripping onto your waist tightly.

“Now, ride him while I fuck you.”

Without warning, Matt started snapping his hips against your ass as he drilled into you from behind. A strangled moan of surprise bellowed from your chest, and Frank reached out to grip your waist to hold you steady. You braced your palms flat against his broad chest, whining loudly as Matt pistoned relentlessly inside you. His hand came down hard against your ass and he growled in your ear.

“I said ride him.”

“You heard him. C’mon sweetheart, take what’s yours. Make yourself come on my cock. Show us what a good girl you can be.”

You had half expected Frank to come to your defense like he had throughout the night, but it was like you were back on the roof. Frank was backing Matt, and you had an overwhelming desire to please them both. Gripping onto his shoulders, you began to rock your hips back and forth against his quickly, struggling to find your rhythm with the way Matt was fucking you roughly.

“Matty…please…”

“Move with me, angel. You can do it. Come on, make us proud.”

Frank held onto your waist with one hand and folded his other arm behind his head, staring up at you with the biggest grin on his lips. He was barely moving his hips, letting you do whatever you wanted above him. Matt was right. He did like to watch. He had been letting you and Matt take control for the most part, and right now all you wanted him to do was lose it.

“Please Frankie…please fuck me. Please fuck me like Matty…please…I need your help. Can you fuck me like him?”

Frank’s eyes darkened considerably at your words, and you could hear Matt snickering darkly behind you. Maybe you were wrong about Matt and Frank. Maybe Matt was the one that didn’t hide what he was. Maybe Frank was. Matt hadn’t held back once this entire night, but Frank certainly had. Maybe you didn’t know Frank as well as you thought you did. Maybe there was a part of himself he was concealing. Whatever it was, Matt clearly knew what you were in for better than you did.

“Come on, Frank. She wants to play with the Devil and the Punisher. Let her have it. She’s a big girl, she can handle it. We said we’d ruin her, so help me ruin her.”

Your heart pounded so quickly in your chest you thought it was gonna give out. Frank wasn’t smiling, he was smirking. But it wasn’t the crooked mischievous one you had come to love. No…this one was sinister, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Alright, sweetheart. You asked for it. And whatever you want, you get.”

Frank gripped roughly onto your waist to lift your hips before he began to snap his own upwards against yours at an almost inhuman pace. A scream flew from your mouth as he fucked up into you roughly in perfect harmony with Matt who was repeatedly railing into your from behind. You couldn’t form words. The sounds coming from you were downright pornographic and salacious and barely coherent. You grabbed onto his forearms for support and dug your nails so deep into his skin you were shocked you hadn't drawn blood. All you could do was hang on as Frank and Matt did exactly what they promised; they absolutely fucking wrecked you.

The grunts and moans coming from both of them were feral and almost animalistic, tearing from the most primal depths of their chests. They were both gripping and kneading at your flesh with such ferocity, like they couldn’t feel enough of you. You were eager to see the marks they had left tomorrow morning. Frank repeated over and over how good you were, showering you in praise that starkly contrasted with the way he was fucking you. Matt’s fingers never once left your throat, occasionally applying just enough pressure to make you lightheaded. He poured indecent and filthy words into your ear about how perfect you fit around his cock and how badly he wanted you to come so he could fuck you all over again.

It was beginning to be too much. You couldn’t even hold yourself up on your knees anymore. The only reason you hadn’t collapsed was because Frank still had you suspended above him. 

“You gonna come for us, sweetheart?”

“Yeah she is. Any minute now…right angel?”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even nod. All you could do was hang on and fall further and further into Matt Murdock and Frank Castle. Matt chuckled lowly as he pulled your head back against his chest by your neck, brushing his nose along your cheekbone as he inhaled your scent.

“Think we’re fucking her too good, Frank. She can’t even talk.”

“Goddamn if you could see how she looks right now, Red. S’alright pretty girl, we got ya. Go on and make a fuckin’ mess on us. Don’t you dare hold back, yeah?”

“Hold her steady like that Frank. I got her.”

The second Matt’s finger made contact with your clit, you combusted. Your pussy clenched so hard around both of them that it almost hurt. A blinding supernova exploded behind your eyelids and your body suddenly became a live wire, convulsing with every tiny spark of touch. Your lungs burned as you struggled to breathe and all at once you felt like you were floating and made of lead. The distant echo of Matt loudly moaning out your name and Frank howling deeply for you rang in your ears. Your heart fluttered at the thought of your insides being turned into a breathtaking mosaic as the two men you loved most in this world painted you with the most intimate parts of themselves. 

There was an irrefutable peace that settled in your bones once your body stopped shuddering. It felt like you were floating in the middle of the ocean. All the noises around you were jumbled, like your head was underwater. You could just barely make out two voices calling your name. The midnight sky above you was suddenly flashing neon purple and blue, and the twinkling constellations drifting around in front of you morphed into two sets of eyes swirling with deep hazel and dark cocoa. 

“There she is. Had us worried there for a bit, sweetheart.”

Frank’s voice was clear in your ears now. As you blinked the haziness away, both him and Matt finally came back into view. The light from the billboard outside Matt’s apartment was projecting a kaleidoscope of violet and cobalt on the ceiling. You had no idea how long you had been incoherent, but the expression on both of their faces and Frank’s words had you blushing profusely. 

“Hi.”

Your voice was hoarse as you spoke. It didn’t even sound like it belonged to you. Both of them exchanged a knowing glance, Matt’s mouth splitting into a wide dimple showcasing grin as he chuckled.

“Hi pretty girl.”

“You alright? Was that too much?”

“I’m amazing. That was…perfect.”

”Hell, I think we can all agree on that. We were worried you weren’t comin’ back to us for a minute there though.”

“I’d never leave you two. I’ll always come back. Promise.”

“Frank, could you grab her a glass of water?”

“Sure thing, Red.”

A tender smile spread across your lips at the way Frank squeezed Matt’s shoulder before making his way out of the bedroom. Matt tilted his head in your direction, eyes fixated almost on yours as he smiled in response. His hand came out to gently cup your face, brushing his thumb lightly along your cheekbone. 

“Where did you go?”

“What?”

“We did lose you there for a few minutes. We kept saying your name, but you were somewhere else. Where did you go?”

“The stars. Another universe, I think.”

Matt laughed out loud as his grin stretched even further over his mouth, moving to lay beside you as he propped his head up on his other hand.

“We missed you.”

“I found my way back as soon as I could.”

This was the most at peace you thought you had ever seen Matt Murdock look. His hair was disheveled and out of place and his cheeks were lightly twinged pink, but the smile that graced his mouth was absolutely blinding. He looked…happy. Genuinely happy. You couldn’t help but surge forward and capture his lips in a deep kiss. You could feel his smile against your mouth and the warmth of his skin as his hand settled on your waist. 

“Round 2 already? Shouldn’t we wait for Frank?”

“I love you, Matty.”

Matt’s smile faltered only for a second, his eyes widening at your confession. His lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. The bed dipped behind you, and you turned your head to see Frank’s gaze shifting between you and Matt. 

“I think you broke him. What’d I miss?”

“I love you, Frankie.”

Frank stilled momentarily, swallowing thickly as he brought the glass of water to your lips and placed his hand on the back of your neck as you gulped generously. 

“Sweetheart-“

“Wait…just, let me speak. I mean it. I love both of you. I think I always have I just…if this is a one time thing, that’s okay. I just wanted you both to know. Tonight meant the world to me. I’ve never felt so…happy. No one’s ever treated me so well as you two have and…I really do love when you two get along. I hope that’s not part of this “one time deal” thing. So, Matt Murdock…Frank Castle…I love you. Both of you. If tomorrow morning you both decide you want to act like this never happened-“

“The hell you talkin’ about? Didn’t we say there’d be a next time?”

“Well…yeah but that was-“

“Angel, this isn’t a one time thing. I don’t know about Frank, but I can’t go back to before. Not after I’ve finally had you. It's not a one time thing for me.”

“It ain’t for me either.”

Silence hung heavy in the air after the weight of your confession settled. You suddenly felt self conscious about what you had just admitted, and the urge to run away had your fingers twitching at your sides. Matt tenderly wrapped his hand around your wrist, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he stared in your direction.

“I love you, angel.”

Frank slipped into bed beside you, draping his arm lazily over your waist as he brushed his nose along your jawline and pressed a soft kiss to the edge of your mouth. 

“And I love you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes darted frantically between the two of them, still trying to wrap your head around all of the events that had transpired tonight. 

“So…what now?”

“I don’t know ‘bout you two, but I’m fuckin’ exhausted. I say we get some sleep.”

“Frank’s right. It’s been a long night. Let’s get some rest. We can talk in the morning.”

“I’m sorry…did you just…say Frank was right?”

“Don’t start. I’m too tired to put you in your place, and I don’t think you can handle any more than what we’ve already given you.” 

Matt’s tone submissed you into complete silence. Frank chuckled lowly beside you, and you caught his smirk as you met his gaze. He gave a light shrug of his shoulders as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“He may be tired but he ain’t bluffin’. If there’s anything he can do better than take a beatin’ it’s give one. I suggest you behave, sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes for a second as you pressed your thighs together, and Matt groaned loudly beside you. Frank laughed as he pulled the covers over the three of you, snuggling close into your backside as Matt pulled your leg over his waist to get you as close as possible to his chest. For several minutes, you all laid there in comfortable silence, enjoying the feeling of Matt and Frank’s warmth against your skin and the sound of their steady breathing with a promise of more bliss tomorrow. 

“Goddamn, you weren’t kiddin’ about that fuckin’ billboard. You ain’t ever thought to get some curtains?”

“Why would I have a use for curtains, Frank?”

A loud laugh escaped your mouth at Matt’s deadpan before you had a chance to stop it, and Frank’s hand suddenly clamped over your mouth.

“Obviously they ain’t for you, shithead. What about us?”

“Fine. We’ll look at curtains tomorrow. Happy?”

“Fuckin’ peachy.”

Thirty seconds. You had thirty seconds of more comfortable silence before they were back at it.

“You’re fucking joking, right? I mean you can sleep through bullets and explosions and the desert sun, but a billboard is where you draw the line?” 

“It’s right there in the goddamn window, Matthew. For fucks sake, you got a fuckin’ rave goin’ on right now. It might not bother you-“

“Well obviously it can’t bother me Frank-“

“Boys, please. Frankie, you’ve literally slept in far worse conditions. Matty…it is a bit much. We can deal with it tomorrow. Can we please go back to you two being nice to each other and cuddling?” Both of them grunted halfheartedly in response, but it made you smile nonetheless. Because they were your boys. Yours. And no matter how much they drove you, and each other, absolutely crazy, it was all out of love. You loved them. They loved you. Nothing else really mattered.

#matt murdock #frank castle #matt murdock x you #frank castle x you #matt murdock x fem!reader #frank castle x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #frank castle x female reader #matt murdock x f!reader #frank castle x f!reader #matt murdock x y/n #frank castle x y/n #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #matt murdock x reader x frank castle #matt murdock x fem!reader x frank castle #matt murdock x f!reader x frank castle #matt murdock x female reader x frank castle #matt murdock x you x frank castle #matt murdock x y/n x frank castle #matt murdock fic #frank castle fic #matt murdock smut #frank castle smut #daredevil #the punisher #daredevil fic #the punisher fic #daredevil smut #the punisher smut

[yujo-nishimura]

All the rage

A fauxpax at your job leads to some intimate time with your boss Sir Crocodile and even a promotion...

Warning: gore, blood, violence, smut, Sir Crocodile x female reader (It is not as gory as I intended it to write because I also do not want my readers to be disgusted)

NSFW - minors do not interact

words: 1932

I am tagging @lostfirefly since she has explicitly asked for it and she will understand the background of the story.. ;)

What began as a promising career path quickly transformed into a daily grind filled with frustration. Your boss had placed you on the front lines of sales, fully aware that it was your charm and physical appearance that kept customers engaged, rather than the actual product you were selling. Initially, the attention may have been enjoyable, but it rapidly developed into an arduous routine of forcing a smile and feigning interest in even the most absurd customer requests.

In addition to your job-related frustrations, you hated the commute, enduring endless waits for public transportation alongside the empty expressions of fellow passengers. To make things even more difficult, you had developed romantic feelings for your boss, Mr. Crocodile, who failed to provide the attention you yearned for. Nevertheless, he remained the sole reason you clung to the job, at least for a little while longer. 

After enduring yet another exhausting and sweltering morning commute, coupled with three customer calls riddled with complaints, it's no wonder that you finally reached your breaking point.

The client you were scheduled to meet today had already displayed unpleasant behavior over the phone. However, you tried to stay optimistic, believing that people tend to be kinder in person compared to phone or email interactions. As the clock struck 10, the client was still nowhere to be seen, and impatience crept in, knowing your aversion to tardiness. Eventually, he arrived at 10:30, nearly an hour late. Upon entering your office, he offered no apology, opting instead for a shy smile. With his greasy blonde hair, ill-fitting suit, and repulsive demeanor, you took a deep breath and, attempting to maintain your professionalism, offered him a seat and asked if he wanted tea or coffee. To your annoyance, he requested soda water, the one thing you hadn't offered. You reluctantly went to the small fridge in search of anything to satisfy his stupid request.

Upon your return, he sported a sly grin and made inappropriate comments about your appearance as you turned around to face him. For a moment, you contemplated ending the conversation then and there. Not only because of the harassment, but also because he had already exhibited a series of missteps from the start, leading you to believe it would only worsen. However, you reminded yourself that this client had promised substantial purchases, resulting in a significant deal that would not only make you proud but also capture your boss's attention.

As you settled down before the client, you ensured your suit jacket and skirt were impeccably aligned, carefully placing product flyers on the glass coffee table. "So, as we discussed on the phone, this is what we can offer, and we're willing to negotiate a generous discount for bulk purchases," you initiated your customary sales pitch, fully aware that the man was likely not paying attention at all.

"I wasn't aware that they allowed women to work at Cross Guild Corp. as well," he suddenly remarked. 

"Pardon me?" you replied, looking up at him, meeting his watery blue eyes and sly grin once again. 

"I believe men excel in sales and business, but I can see why they placed you on the front line. You're a cute little Missy with a nice little butt. Are they sharing you around here?" 

"Sir...!" you sighed deeply, mustering all your strength to restrain yourself from snapping at him. "At Cross Guild Corp., our team strives to create an inclusive environment that does not discriminate based on gender or sexuality..." you trailed off, realizing that you sounded like a spokesperson for your company's marketing campaign. 

"I actually came here just to find out about your sexuality, girl, since you sounded so nice on the phone!" To your horror, the client stood up, walked around the table, and sat down next to you on the large leather couch. His sly grin remained etched on his face, and you understood that he had no intention of making any purchases. As he forcefully grabbed your hand and pushed it between his legs, you gasped. Your phone lay on the table, and the imposing wooden doors prevented any sound from escaping to alert your colleagues of your distress. Your eyes fell on the letter opener on the table, next to the flyers and paperwork from the morning. 

“I will give you a good tip, so show me - how is your head…!”, he murmured and the grip on your hand got tighter. That was your breaking point. In a split-second decision, you instinctively reached for the letter opener resting on your desk. Its design was reminiscent of the sword once wielded by your chief manager Mihawk, a renowned sword master.

With a swift motion and without any regret you stabbed the small iron blade into the neck of your attacker, making his eyes go wide in disbelief over the blood fountain suddenly gushing out from under his ear. He gargled, trying to cover the wound and hissed “You fucking bitch!” but you had already stood up, trying to get away from the fountain of blood spilling over the leather couch and your black suit and sheer tights.

The guy had finally stopped smiling and you felt a sense of relief. Still heavily breathing you went to your desk trying to grab anything to hold on to. You were still in shock but you also felt like this was the only thing you needed to do today. Your work was done here, time to punch out and go home.

As the client gasped for his final breaths on the couch, a sudden knock at the door startled you. Without hesitation, your boss, Sir Crocodile, made his entrance into the office, dressed impeccably in a sleek black suit, his presence accentuated by the cigar he held. 

"Y/n, I was just coming in to discuss the sales numbers from last month and review our plans for Q3..." he began, but his words trailed off abruptly as his gaze fell upon your pale face, the crimson stains on your hands, and the somber scene that unfolded on the couch before him. 

"Oh..." he remarked, his reaction to a dying person being the one you least expected from all possible responses.

“I…!”, that was all you were able to say, looking in horror at your own hands and the blood stains on the carpet. 

"Did the sales proposal go wrong?" your boss inquired, carefully placing the documents on a nearby shelf to avoid any stains. 

"He... he tried to assault me," you stammered, your voice trembling as you spoke. 

Crocodile approached the lifeless figure and casually lifted his arm before letting it drop back onto the couch with a nonchalant "flop." 

"What a tasteless suit brand. He reeks of cheap whiskey as well... I think you handled the situation very well, dear Y/n!" 

You couldn't believe what you were hearing as your boss praised you. 

"Are you alright, though? It must have been quite a shock for you..." 

With just two swift strides, your boss stood before you, his towering presence simultaneously intimidating and comforting. He gently took hold of your blood-stained hands, inspecting them as though he had stumbled upon a hidden treasure. 

"I'm... I'm fine, I suppose," you whispered, relieved to be able to utter any words at all. 

"How about you take the rest of the day off, my dear?" Crocodile suddenly suggested, causing your heart to race. Did your beloved boss just refer to you as "my dear"?

“I am fine, Sir..!”, you tried to utter and you looked into his dark purple eyes. A rush of adrenaline had run through your body, heightened now by the sensation of Crocodile's warm skin on yours.

He gently raised your hands to his mouth and you gasped in disbelief as he carefully opened his lips, licking over the blood on your fingers.

The tension in the office got unbearable and you suddenly realized that the death of the client and you having killed him had turned Sir Crocodile on. He didn't even ask for your approval, he did not need to hear it, seeing the same fire in your eyes as mirrored in his own was enough proof for him. Without hesitation he quickly grabbed your hips, pushing you up on your wooden office desk, starting to greedily kiss you. His lips tasted like cigar smoke and blood and it made your mind go blank.

Instinctively you wrapped your legs around his waist and put your arms around his shoulders. You were only kissing but you already felt like moaning into his mouth, your arousal palpable. Crocodile did not wait any longer. While still kissing you, he unbuckled his belt, pulling down both his trousers and underwear. His throbbing cock was so huge, pressing against your clothed folds, for a moment you were not sure if you could take it all. He did not give you a choice. Ripping your tights apart, he pulled down your panties and pushed your skirt up. Your bare ass was seated now on documents from the morning briefing and before your boss embraced you, he quickly checked with his fingers if you were ready for him. The slick sound made him smile, he kissed your neck and gently whispered: 

“Killing that guy turned you on, didn't it?”

Without waiting for your reply he pushed into you, his full length filling you in an instant. Surprisingly you were ready to take him - there was no pain, only pleasure. As he started to move relentlessly into you, your thighs and your butt started slapping against the wood of the desk. You moaned into his shoulder, feeling his big cock filling you to the brim. As you held onto him you were able to peek over his shoulder, seeing the lifeless body of the client still slightly bleeding, but much less than earlier, leaving a big crimson puddle on the floor. 

Crocodile gently but vigorously pulled your hair forcing you to look at him. 

“Focus on me, baby. I want you to enjoy every moment of this…!” his deep voice was laced with desire, you could feel his cock pulsating against your velvet folds. 

His demand made you feel getting close to your own orgasm, he pressed his hand on your mouth, trying to stifle your moans and holding on to you while his motions grew more forceful and vigorous. 

“Almost there..!”, he leaned over and whispered these words into your ear.

“I underestimated you, I knew you were beautiful and charming.. but I did not think you had the guts to kill someone…!”, his voice turned husky from the fast-paced breaths.

You pushed your nails into his skin and threw your head back as the orgasm washed over you like a wave. Seeing you squirting all over his cock made him go wild, with some last stuttering movements he pushed his cum inside of you, gently collapsing with his massive body on your suit jacket. You both were panting, the room was hot and sticky, the scent of blood and wrongdoing hung in the air.

He slowly stood upright, handing you your underwear and pulling up his trousers, adjusting his tie in a swift movement. 

Still overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment you silently grabbed your panties, pushing them into your jacket pocket instead of putting them back on. 

"Well, I've been in need of a personal assistant for quite some time now," Crocodile cleared his throat, smoothing back his slicked hair with a swift gesture. "How about we tidy up this mess together and then discuss your well-deserved promotion?"

#one piece #sir crocodile x y/n #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile one piece #x reader #yujowriting #sir crocodile #alabasta #sir crocodile smut #one piece x reader #one piece smut

[pynkgothicka]

ＤＥＡＴＨ ＪＪＫ

Synopsis - After your husband passes, your therapist gives you a new opportunity to be with him. (Part one of The Monster Series.)

Pairing - Yandere! Dark! Android! Jeon Jungkook x Widower! Fem! Reader

Featuring - Steven Yuen

Tags and Warnings - Violence, Death, Yelling

Authors Note - One down 5 more to go

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

“Ma'am, he's not coming back.”

You stared in shock at the body on the side of the road. Your husband was laying dead a bullet wound in his chest and you couldn't do anything about it.

“Kook…. No…. Kook….”

The cop there had to physically drag you away. You crying and sobbing as you watched him get dragged away.

But that was a long time ago.

Sitting down in your therapists office had you in a daze, your mind on a constant loop of that night. Hands covering your tear stained eyes. “Miss Jeon, his death was over a year ago. Yet you can't seem to get past it. Why is that?” Your therapist commented as she sat in the chair in front of you.

“I miss him, he was my life. Jeon Jungkook was my everything.” You said looking down at your lap. “I sit in the house he saved up to buy for us and I'm just surrounded by him.”

“He was taken when you needed him most…”

“You know this… Why are you asking me this?” You say looking at her with a aggravated look on your face.

Your therapist let out a sigh before reaching into her desk. He then handed you a card. On the front read DEATH.

Deceased

Electric

Android

Therapeutic

Humanoid

“Take it. You need it. Call the number on the back and they'll set everything up.”

🤖

That's what led you to sitting in a random office. You came about 30 minutes before after setting up a appointment.

The entire building had this futuristic build to it. Every light had a light neon blue glow to them. And almost everything was automated through technology. Outside the large glass window and saw all sorts of people with androids in general. It was kind of creepy yet sad knowing what the company was for.

“Hello Mrs. Jeon. I heard about your situation.” You were pulled out of your gaze as a man in a sleek white lab coat walked in. His name tag read, Lead Scientist Mr. Yuen. “It's quiet, sad really. Having your husband taken from you at such a crucial part of the relationship.” He walked to sit behind the desk in front of you.

“Yes, so… what exactly do you guys do?” You ask trying to pull away from the topic of your husbands demise.

“Well,” He pulls out a hard drive, written on the front in sharpie the letters JJK. “This is your husband's entire consciousness. We'd gotten access to your husband's brain. Your lucky he was a organ donor.”

You could feel tears prick your eyes. Your husband was right there.

He was so close.

“We take this and put it into a android. That android is as close to a human as we could get it. Even the skin feels realistic. Height, weight, even a replica of all that junk down there. Practically a one to one ratio.” Mr. Yuen chuckles. “And this will cost nothing as our company is pretty new. We really just need people to say what we offer works.”

You were desperate. You do care anymore, it was something. You nodded as Mr Yuen smiled and placed a stack of paperwork in front of you. “He'll be ready for you in a few hours.”

🤖

You sat in a lounge area waiting patiently. You looked mindlessly through a magazine, trying to be as level headed as possible.

“Mrs Jeon!”

Your head shot up at the sound of your name being called. It took you a bit to stand up but when you did you were in shock.

There he stood.

The love of your life.

Jeon Jungkook.

“Baby?”

His voice sounded exactly the same. It was him. Your mind was clouded at being reunited with him, and all you could do was cry and run towards him. You hugged him, and you could feel him hug you back. His strength showed as he nearly crushed you.

“Okay okay you have to let go!” You said giggling. Jungkook did, him looking at you with nothing but love and adoration. You looked at the side of his forehead seeing a blue ring of light.

It reminded you of what this actually was. And how this wasn't actually him…

“It doesn't have to be there…” Jungkook said looking at your eyes on the led light. You watched in bewilderment as his skin tone covered the blue circular ring. “Is that better?”

You nod mindlessly as you take Jungkooks cheeks in your hands to kiss him.

It was quick but needed.

Even his lips were just as soft as Jungkooks.

Mr. Yuen stood off to the side and when he felt it was needed walked up to you to shake your hand.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you Mrs Jeon. If you have any issues please do call.”

🤖

Things started to go wrong almost a week into bringing him home. You were seated on the couch with him, going through a old photo album. You were pointing out memories the both of you had, trying to see if he had the memories of your lost love.

And he was struggling.

“Kook, baby… you don't remember this?” You said pointing towards your first date. He'd taken you to go to a book store. But He just stared at it trying to process what he saw but he just couldn't.

“I'm sorry. I can't… I don't remember.” Jungkook said putting his head into his hands. “I-I’m so sorry.” It sounded as if he was crying, which was something you didn't even know he could do. Then again he is supposed to be the closest thing to a human.

With a shakey hand you patted his back trying to comfort him. Then your wrapped your arms around him, kissing the side of his face. “It's okay. Trust me we'll get through this one step at a time. I should be apologizing, I tried forcing way too much onto you.” You say kissing the top of his head once again.

“I don't get it… I don't fucking get it.” He growled the grip on his head getting harsher. He then reeled his head back and slammed it into the coffee table. You quickly grab his shoulders to pull him back.

“Kook! Kook! Stop!” You yelled as he struggled against you, trying to punish himself. He then seemingly stopped, artificial tears cascading down his face.

“What happened…?” He asked looking at you with those same soft eyes you fell for.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

🤖

You spend about a month with your new android husband, his mood changes still existing. But you looked past them, and instead just tried to work with him.

Like now you two were on a date and Jungkook was a gentleman and his usual playful self.

“Honestly I like eating. It's something about all those textures in your mouth that just make the experience!” Jungkook stated describing eating as if it was the best thing in the world. But all you could do was laugh at his antics. You wish you had that much joy for living.

Jungkook stared at you dumbfounded. “What's so funny?” He said beginning to laugh with you.

“Your just, so amused by seemingly little things. It's kind of funny.” You reply smiling. This was almost reminiscent of how you and your actual husband were. That was until the waiter cam around for about the 5th time that night. Jungkook would get more angry by the minute anytime he was around. Like now, as Jungkook stopped laughing and side eyed the waiter as he passed the drinks. As soon as he left you spoke up, “Kook, baby you have to calm down.”

“I'm calm. He just needs to leave us alone.” He seethes under his breath.

Then the waiter returns.

And Jungkook shoots up, grabs his arm and begins to yell at him. “Leave us the fuck alone!” People gasp as the waiter groans out. “Man you're bruising me!” The waiter says trying to prey Jungkook off. You get up and grab his shoulder.

“Let go! Let go now!” You yell and Jungkook almost immediately retracts his grasp. Your left embarrassed, and finally state that this is the last straw as you leave in a hurry.

🤖

“Hi I was told to call this number if I something was wrong with my product.” You stood outside on the porch of your house.

“Ma'am. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do.” The receptionist replies. Your face furrows as you raise your voice.

“What? There's obviously something wrong, my husband has never acted this way. I need to talk Dr Yuen. Please!” You practically begged.

“Ma'am. DEATH company has ceased to exist. Too many bugs, and you seem to have one. I say either get rid of the product or live with it. Good day.” Then the phone hangs up.

The first option was out of the question.

You couldn't see him die again.

But you didn't know how much longer you could live with the android. His mood swings become more and more drastic every day.

With a heavy head and heart you walked back in, bumping into Jungkooks hard chest.

“You think something is wrong with me.” He said solemnly.

“Kook baby, no… you're just… I think….” You couldn't even muster up a excuse for him. “It's just that… your not… my husband…”

You tried to walk past him but he moved in your way. “I'm not? Then why do I have all these thoughts? Why do I consistently feel plagued by him?” He spat at you. You moved to one side and quickly went the other way around him. “My mind is filled with you! His thoughts about you … I'm him!”

“Calm down… Please! I'm- I didn't mean what I said!” You beg putting your hands up as a act of defense. Jungkook seethed grabbing at his hair. He moved it forcibly.

“Is it this?” He yelled showing the led ring on the side of his skull. “Is it the fact that your “husband” wasn't a robotic freak!” You quickly love your footing falling onto the carpet. You felt a sharp pain in your arm as your forced to drag yourself away.

In fear, you watched as Jungkook took to a nearby mirror throwing it to the ground. You screamed as glass shot near him everywhere. He picked up a sizeable piece and took it to the side of his head. “I can change… I will change…” He then began to cut at the piece, all the while stepping towards you. He yanked it out throwing the circle to the side.

Jungkook now stood over you.

“Am I like him now? Am I your perfect husband….” He taunted. You shake your head no as you cried beneath his form. He just smiled. “Your lying… and in denial. Look at that arm… you broke it. All because you tried to get away from me.”

“Your…. you're not my husband. Your a monster.” You said with finality. The pain in your arm made your vision spotty.

“No baby… I'm your love. And I'm not leaving anytime soon.”

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#dark writing #tw dark content #tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere blog #yandere bts #bts yandere #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #dark bts #bts x reader #bts fic #jjk #yandere jjk #jjk bts #jeon jeongkook #jeon jeongguk #yandere jungkook #Spotify