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#I'm sorry i'm very slow at replies right now
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lowkey I kinda wanna top gaz or ghost out of curiosity on how they would react 🤔
gaz or ghost? gaz AND ghost. ranked competitive sex. the ol' good cock/bad cock.
they're both confident almost cocky but they show it very differently.
you tell gaz you wanna be on top this time.
"i'm fine with that," he says.
cool cool cool. easy. too easy, in fact.
he's smiling at you. "you want to be on top, you're on top." he says. "easy as."
so... you get to be the dominant one this time. he knows that's what you mean. right?
mm, harder sell. you wanna do his job? you're gonna need to prove you have what it takes. you're gonna have to work for it. talk like you mean it. don't whine, don't ask, don't just tell him what to do. command him. 
and don't mess up.
nsfw ⬇
order him to take his clothes off. top him like you mean it--bounce on him like you don't need any help, because he's not helping you. and control yourself. edge him. don't show weakness. make him keep his eyes on you. keep his interest with your body, your voice, your tone.
(it's tough for him, feigning such precarious half-interest. pretending like you don't have a visegrip on his every atom. pretending like he's not suddenly understanding how it might feel to be possessed by a succubus. it's tough, but he's soldiering through because he's a great fucking teacher. this is good for you, you just don't know it yet.)
he's teaching you to use your whole body to tell him you're in charge. you need to make the rules.
if you don't--if you slip up--he'll make you sorry. he'll give you a crash course in how a mean dom operates.
(you might be able to collar him, but god help you if you fumble. the second you do, that o-ring choker is going on your neck, and his thumb is already hooked in.)
ghost--
ghost is a little easier to entice. he's a visual guy. he's a little smitten with anyone who approaches him first. you're offering to top him? to put your whole damn body on display? that's an act of service, baby.
even if you're doing it because you want to control the pace and the position, even if you want to take your own pleasure and act like you don't give a damn about his... you're still giving him exactly what he wants. if all he needs to do is lay back and shut up, he'll play your game.
not a tough job, either. not half bad. he could get used to this. nope, he's already used to it. he's thinking ahead--wondering what other dirty fantasies in that pretty head he could help fulfill.
then he shifts his hips down an inch to hit your sweet spot. you snap at him not to move. 
his eyes flick up--from your hole squeezing his cock--to your face. strange sense of whiplash you're giving him--the instant flip from almost ignoring him to focusing squarely on him. negative attention or not, it's arousing. you shouldn't have done that.
"yeah?" he replies, voice low and rough. "you gonna make me?"
you don't have time to reply before he's shoving his hips up into you hard. one stroke, then two, then more, so slow and hard and deep your vision threatens to go white. 
he's challenging you to keep ignoring him now. 
"say it again," he growls. "tell me what to do one more time."
he reaches for your clit, and you fight him, grabbing his wrist, using it as leverage to sink down on him again, redoubling your pace. 
you're both fighting to stay in control. ghost could overpower you easily but he's having fun. and you're putting on a hell of a show for him.
he'll contend with your attitude later. for now he just wants to keep you pissed off and horny enough to keep riding him like you've got something to prove.
riding ghost and gaz together...
you just know they're both talking at you, trying to get your attention as you fight like hell not to fall apart.
gaz is instructing you to sit up straighter, to clench your thighs so they don't shake, to control your voice--or keep it up, sweetheart. keep moaning like a slut if you want to be treated like one. 
ghost is egging you on, enjoying how furious you're getting, how it makes you clench up and stutter when gaz says something that really gets to you. he tosses in his lot every so often to keep things going. like throwing a lit match into a pit of black powder and lead azide.
you're doomed. until.
you tell ghost to move his hands already so gaz can maneuver you by the hips instead. 
that turns them against one another in negative two seconds.
suddenly they're critiquing each other. gaz smugly insinuates you're enjoying his technique more. ghost replies smoothly that it hardly matters to him; it's his attention you're after.
their back-and-forth gives you the precious time you need to clear your head. once you can finally fucking concentrate, you can push past all this edging you've been put through by stupid competition they've been having on you.
they keep one-upping each other and only half-notice what you're up to--until you throw your head back and make a sound of pure rapture, riding them both to completion. you throw yourself into the best orgasm of your recent life.
they're dead silent as you come down, grinding your hips in bliss as the final sparks of pleasure fizzle under your skin.
it sort of humbles them. but then again, it also inflates both their egos just enough to keep them from learning their goddamn lesson.
...
more Gaz / more Ghost / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag
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Text
Caught
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: masterbation, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, implied cockwarming, Steve talking his shit, I think that's all- this is unedited
Genre: fluff and smut
Summary: As the title implies, you get caught... by Steve lol
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***
You sigh to yourself as you sink into the warm water in your bathtub. It's been a long day and you're relieved to finally unwind with your bubbles, candles, and music. Truthfully moving into the tower means you don't get much time to yourself and you're in dire need of some self care. You take a moment to trail your hands across your skin, first over your neck, down your chest, then over your tummy until finally, your fingers skate across your sex. Your breath hitches when your digits brush against your clit. You dip your middle fingers between your folds, caressing your inner walls. You start slow, just allowing your body to catch up to your mind. As the slickness of your arousal grows, your movements adjust accordingly, pumping faster as the minutes go on. Your chest heaves from your ministrations, quiet whimpers escaping your parted lips. Now, properly horny, you pivot your attention to your clit, a louder moan leaving you at the feeling of your fingers against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
You almost scream when your bathroom door swings open suddenly.
"Steven Grant Rogers what the hell are you doing in here?!" You gasp adjusting yourself to look less compromised under the bubbles. If there was such thing as a guardian angel they'd make sure by some magic Steve hadn't heard you before coming in despite his super soldier senses.
"I- heard a sound... and I was concerned." He says. Guess that's a no on the guardian angel thing. Awesome.
"And you didn't want to knock before rushing in here?" You blink at him.
"Well- if you were in trouble that'd be a waste of time."
"You know if you were looking for an excuse to see me naked I would've much preferred you just ask." You joke, hoping the comment will make him embarrassed enough to rush out with an apology so this conversation can be over.
"Wait I- but that's not- sorry what?!" Steve fumbles over his reply, shaking his head at you.
"I'm joking Steve, this is very awkward. I'm dispelling tension." You explain. He frowns at you for a moment and then his eyes widen.
"Oh I'm interrupting....." He trails off oddly.
"My bath. Yes. Thank you for noticing finally?"
"No that's- that's um- that's not what I meant." He says clearing his throat.
"Well what are you talking about then Rogers?" You ask.
"I just picked up on what the sound I heard was actually about. I am so sorry about interrupting."
"It's fine dude, you can just- leave." You say. Or if you really wanted to make it up to me you could help me pick up where I left off.
"That was a joke right?" Steve falters.
"What?" You frown at him.
"About me... helping you."
"Oh- that was an inside thought. You can just- disregard it."
"To clarify, you don't actually want my help. Do you?"
"Are you offering?"
"I guess I am."
"Don't bite off more than you can chew, Steve." You warn. Steve sits on the edge of the bathtub.
"You're underestimating me y/n."
"Well- you're welcome to prove me wrong, if you think you can."
Steve rolls up the sleeve of his shirt and plunges his arm into the water. His hand quickly finds your leg beneath the water. He glides up your thigh, stopping just short of your center.
"Wait, I need you to understand that if we do this that's it you know. If I fuck you, I'm keeping you."
"Then you'd better make me want to be kept." You say, challenge clear in your voice. You catch Steve's eyebrow twitch up momentarily but instead of quipping back he tilts his head and slides his hand the rest of the way up your leg, fingers dipping into your wet heat easily. You take in a sharp breath as his fingers curl against the roof of your inner walls.
"I'm going to find out every little thing that makes you tick." Steve says softly, though his fingers are quickly gaining speed between your legs.
"You'd need more than a few hours for that one darling." You say breathily, struggling to respond with his ministrations, his shirtsleeve darkening as water sloshes against it, his earlier attempt at preventing that proving fruitless. Steve pivots his attention, his fingers drawing up to rub tight circles against your clit and you throw your head back with a moan. Your hands clutch the side of the tub as he touches you, your whole body buzzing from the heat between your thighs.
"I'm sure I can spare the time." He hums.
"Oh fuck-" You jolt, feeling your orgasm build under his touch.
"Come on princess, I can tell you're close. Let go for me." He says. Your body tenses momentarily before your back arches as your orgasm washes over you. Steve steadily works you through it, only pulling his fingers from you when the spasms around them have lessened.
"God." You breathe out, slumping back against the tub as your chest heaves.
"Good girl." He says kissing your forehead. He drains the tub and grabs the shower head, rinsing suds from your skin before helping you out of the bath gently.
"You know Stevie, you didn't have to do that. I would've gotten to it." You tell him. Steve pulls you close and lifts you onto your bathroom counter.
"I know you're very capable. But I'm far from finished with you and I'd hate to cover your bed in soapy bath water. I'm sure that'd feel very uncomfortable for you as it dried, too." He says, peppering your throat with kisses and bites as he speaks.
"How very considerate of you." You quip with a breathless chuckle.
"It's a selfish act if I'm honest. Can't have you distracted." He says. At some point, Steve must've freed himself from his pants because as he says this you feel him nudging against your entrance.
"I doubt that's a problem you would have Captain." You tell him, your sentence punctuated by him thrusting into you. You moan at the feeling of just how full you feel with him inside you and drop your head to his shoulder.
"Are you alright y/n?" He asks softly, his hand on your hip, stroking gently.
"Fine just- fuck it feels good the way you fill me." You groan.
"Yeah?" He pants.
"Yeah- god Stevie please move."
Steve tightens his hold on your hips and starts a rhythm. His thrusts are strong and steady, and deep, so deep. Your nails dig into his shoulders, clawing against his skin as he fucks into you forcefully.
"Dammit. You're so- soft, and warm, God you feel so good around me." Steve mutters against your neck. Steve is unrelenting in his thrusts, the feel of him inside you pulling moans and whines from you that he can't get enough of.
"Keep going Stevie, please, please, keep going." You pant, grinding against him.
"Fuck- y/n. It's like you're trying to kill me." He grunts. Steve pulls you impossibly closer to him, driving his hips relentlessly. You can feel your muscles tightening, your orgasm bubbling dangerously below the surface. "You're close, aren't you? I can feel it." He huffs out.
"Yeah- yeah I'm close, but I want you to cum with me Stevie. Wanna feel it in me Stevie." You punctuate your words with nips and licks at his throat and he reacts with a shudder as one of his hands reaches between you to find your clit. The added stimulation quickly sends you over the edge and the feel of your walls clamping down on his dick pull Steve over it with you, the hot feeling of his release painting your walls only adding to your satisfaction. You stay like that for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, breathlessly basking in the afterglow.
"How are you feeling princess?" He asks eventually.
"Good- albeit a little shocked. Had no idea you rocked like that, Stevie."
"That was only the beginning, but if I don't pace myself I'll break you, and that's no way to start a relationship." Steve leans back enough to stroke your cheek and give you a wink.
"To be fair we've already started in a weird way and I'm a lot more resilient than you're giving me credit for here Rogers." You poke his chest.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes actually." You nod.
"Well, then I guess it's only fair I test that out." He says, lifting you off the bathroom counter. You let out a gasp as the movement jostles you on top of his dick that's still buried inside you. It's only now, when you register that he's still hard, do you consider that you may be in over your head. That super soldier stamina is no joke! But you're not about to back out now, especially not when you're possibly going to have your every fantasy turned into reality. This definitely beats any of the self care you were planning on for your evening.
***
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saerotonins · 5 months
Text
watching nanami's last dance
ft. nanami kento x reader
content warnings: fluff, light angst, jjk actor au, descriptions of nanami's scene (im so sorry), light hurt/comfort, slightly suggestive at the end
wc: 1047
note: guys he's not dead it's all just acting ok
jjk actor au masterlist
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the soft breeze of the air, the pretty scene across the beach.
kuantan, malaysia indeed looks like a sight for sore eyes. but more so is your husband.
kento looks so peaceful, the small but obvious smile adorned his face as he take his slow dance, prance like someone who had just got their freedom. he looks so free of pain, even through an untrained eye, his heart feels light.
and it was then replaced with kento's cries of pain, agony, and compassion, while fighting off curses that surrounded him.
contrary to what you have seen earlier, he looks so exhausted, yet he still fought so hard to protect the youth and save everyone with all what he has and with all what he can do.
but as soon as he felt like he did enough, as a man, kento lowers his pride, and with a soft smile on his face,
"you've got it from here," he had said as the soft smile on his vanished the moment he did.
kento jolted beside you as he heard you wail and cry while hugging the plushie of him. he can clearly see the pain in your eyes and the snot present in your face.
"NANAMI, NOOOOOOOO!" you shouted all over again as you hugged the plushie tighter. your eyes and nose are all swollen from all the crying and your breaths and voice have been escalating really bad.
she's really taking this seriously, huh, kento had thought while staring at you across the couch.
eventually, he felt a bit bad and scooted closer to you and wrapped you around his embrace as he kisses the crown of your head.
"you're here crying over a fictional man when the real thing is just right here, darling," he said with a slight hint of humor in his voice. even without seeing his face, you know he's grinning.
you try to wiggle out of his arms but unfortunately, he's stronger than you. "you're making fun of meeeee," you say as you sniffle through your still flowing tears. "he deserved betterrrrrr, he had done so much why is his ending like thisssssss," kento couldn't help but smile as he cradle you in his arms and brush your hair through his fingers as a way to comfort you.
"he deserved so much more kento, i'm so sad," you managed to muster in between tears, "i know, darling, i know, but i'm always here, alright?" he coos at you as he sways both of your bodies back in forth and hugging you closer to his body.
you stayed in the same position all while kento is still cradling you to comfort until the episode ended. once the commercials started rolling, he spoke up.
"you're so cute when you get worked up like this, darling," he chuckled as he cupped your face with his large and gentle hands so he could see you.
there, his heartstrings had been tugged once again by you. even after crying, you still look majestic despite the tear stains and snot that had decorated your face. he also felt a part of his shirt getting wet because of your tears but he doesn't mind it one bit.
"stop it, that scene was made so well it emotionally broke me, nanami deserved better," you pouted from his teasing.
"mhm-hm, i know, darling, you were so adorable," he replied accompanied by a kiss on your forehead.
"stop flirting with me right now, i literally just lost a husband," you say with faux annoyance in your voice.
you suddenly hear and see your husband let out a very hearty belly laugh, he finds your breakdown very much amusing. "alright, i'm sorry for disrespecting the dead," kento joked as he continued to laugh.
you slapped his biceps for teasing you, "you're such a menace! i'm a grieving wife and you're making fun of me," 
"alright, alright, i'll stop," kento then reached for your left hand and brought it to his face. you see him look into your eyes right before kissing the finger where your wedding and engagement rings sit. "you're still cute though, too bad i wasn't able to record it," the playful glare from your eyes made him chuckle.
"okay but seriously though, that made me so sad, i want to fulfill his wish," a frown creeped onto your face when you remembered that nanami wanted to go to malaysia.
kento's eyebrows perked up, "you want to go to malaysia?" 
"we will go to malaysia, he at least deserves to live his dreams through me," kento nods, agreeing to your idea, "alright, we'll go there around summer, i heard it's best to visit at that time, how's that sound?" kento saw a glimpse of sparkle in your eyes and your wide smile as you vigorously nodded before you pull him into a tight embrace.
a comfortable silence envelopes the both of you for a while until he breaks it and faces you, "you let a fictional man's dreams comes true but how about mine?" he said with faux jealousy and sadness in his eyes, and a hint of mischief, one that you didn't catch.
you look at him with confusion in your eyes, "huh? what would you like then?" kento closes the gap between you and whispers to your ears, "i really, really, want to have a daughter," and when he faces you again, a shit-eating grin is present on his face.
you were shocked, to say the least. "you're so stupid!" you say out of nervousness as you feel the heat rise on your face, but the stutter in your voice doesn't go unnoticed by your husband.
ah, five years of marriage and he still makes you feel like this.
you cleared your throat right after you recovered, "well, maybe we can start making that dream a reality now."
kento's smile grew even wider and let out a hearty giggle, "that's my girl," he said with a husky voice before lifting you off from the couch and carrying you bridal style as he took wide strides towards your shared bedroom.
"it's gonna take many rounds though, so i hope you're ready," he says mischievously with a bright smile spread across his face.
oh boy, it's going to be a long night.
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another note: this is a treat for my fellow kento girlies. i hope everyone is doing well (i'm still suffering btw), giving yall a big virtual hug <33
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bsxcrxts · 4 months
Text
Praise + Size kink with Spencer Reid
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Content warnings: 18+ only! absolutely no minors!! Put your age in your bio to interact with my work. PLEASE NOTE the size kink in question here is atypical in that Spencer has a small dick and reader is seriously into it! Reader praises Spencer a lot, brief discussion of previous rejection, handjobs, "darling" as a pet name directed at Spencer, no gendered language towards reader
A/N: this is a little over 1k! Sorry if it's not everyone's cup of tea I just feel this is true of Spencer in my heart <3
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“Listen, u-um. Before we do this I just— I just want to say that if– if– I mean, we don't have to rush into anything," Spencer stuttered, his hand coming to cover your own that rested precariously on his thigh, stopping you from reaching any higher.
"Oh," you pause, pulling back from the kiss the two of you had been sharing, believing you'd misread his signals, "oh, right, of course! Um, do you... not want to?"
Spencer deflects every time the two of you even remotely approach something sexual, and you've been together for months. It's not a problem, you just wish he'd trust you enough to tell you why; his eyes never fully meet yours when you talk about it.
He hasn't answered you.
"It's okay if you're not ready–"
"That's not exactly the issue," he cuts you off.
You're afraid to say the wrong thing and scare him off now that you're finally getting somewhere, so you settle for a considerate okay and just look back at him patiently.
"Previous partners have expressed displeasure with aspects of my body," Spencer rushes out, like it's going to burn him as he says it.
You're struck silent for a half of a second, searching for words.
"That's– Spencer, I don't know who told you that, but I'm sorry they did. That's an awful thing to tell somebody. And you're a very attractive guy," you say as you squeeze his hand reassuringly. Incapable of not cracking a joke to try and lighten the mood, you continue, "I'm not just saying that because I'm dating you, either."
Spencer looks unconvinced. "I don't know," he continues, "The statistics don't lie."
At this point, you're honestly baffled. "What statistics?"
"Approximately forty percent of women think– think size matters," Spencer spits out quickly.
Oh.
Well, you're really, really into Spencer. Right this moment, without ever even seeing his cock, you think it doesn't matter at all.
You shift closer to him on the sofa.
"Spencer, do you want to take things further?"
He looks confused, like he can't understand the question, so you elaborate.
"I like you, and I want you... if you want me too."
He nods, silently. Time slows. You'd been holding your breath.
"Words, Spencer, please," you're so close to him your lips nearly brush.
"Yes," he replies, hushed, "yes, please."
"Good," you affirm against his mouth and you kiss him again. He doesn't stop you this time when your hand brushes along the inside of his thigh and up to the seam of his pants, blindly feeling. His bulge is smaller, it's true, but you can still feel him in your hand, his hardness firm against your palm. It's driving you crazy, Spencer's shyness, his body, his inexperience as he tentatively pulls your hips closer, everything about him.
"I wanna see you," you practically whine, feeling near frantic.
Spencer fumbles with his pants for a moment before shoving his underwear off too, leaning back and nervously fiddling with his hands.
You feel like someone has literally stolen the breath out of your lungs. He's cute. It's the best word for his cock, probably no bigger than four and a half inches, straight and flushed deeply at the head, a bead of pre-cum already forming along his tip. You subconsciously bite your lip, taking in the view of Spencer lying halfway back on your couch, hard and leaking for you.
"God, Spencer, you're– you're so cute," you stutter.
Spencer's face flushes red and he sputters a bit and looks away, but he's obviously turned on. His little cock kicks in your hand, and you have to say it again.
"Your cock is so cute," you tell him, and he gives you a little mphh sound, shifting where he sits. You haven't even touched him and you can tell he's worked up. "You like when I say things like that?"
Spencer nods, quietly affirming your question, wide-eyed.
"Like hearing about how much I like your cock, hmm? Your body looks like art darling, like those old statues," you keep praising him.
Spencer has something to say about this.
"Actually, Greek sculptures usually depict men with smaller– unh!" he moans, interrupted suddenly by your hand on his cock, stroking him slowly. "U-uh, um," he starts over, "In Ancient Greece, a smaller phallus was an i-indication of intelligence and reason," he manages to continue.
How fitting.
"Oh, I see," you practically purr against him, jumping at the chance to compliment him further, "They'd be very impressed with you, darling. So smart and perfectly endowed to show it."
His cock twitches, his eyes practically rolling back in his head.
"You're the smartest man I know," you say, not exaggerating. Spencer's basically a panting mess beside you. "And your cock is the prettiest I've ever seen. Anyone would be stupid to turn you down, you're adorable," you keep talking, hand on his cock moving more rapidly now as Spencer quickly loses composure.
"D-don't stop," he begs, and the sound of his small cock wetly slipping in and out of your fist is lewd, debauched.
"I won't stop. Don't worry, Doctor Reid," you hum sweetly, and Spencer's hips thrust brazenly against your hand at the mention of his title. You feel yourself making a mess of your own underwear but are too enamored with him to even think about touching yourself, "are you going to cum? Will you let me see your gorgeous little cock make a mess f' me?"
"Y-yes, 'm, I'm c-close," he moans.
"So smart and good and pretty for me," you praise. Leaning in, you whisper against his ear, "Next time, I want you in my mouth."
It's all he needs. Spencer's gone, his hips wildly bucking and his cock spurting a surprising amount of cum onto your hand and his lower stomach, his mouth open in a gasp.
When he's recovered, he kisses you once heatedly before he gives you a tiny peck on the cheek, almost shy.
"Did you mean it?" he mumbles, hesitant.
"Darling, yes, of course," you answer. "Spencer, you're beautiful. All of you. I really like you."
He smiles sheepishly. "I really like you too," he says, "and now, if I'm not mistaken, I owe you an orgasm."
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A/N: I based this whole thing around the fact that small dicks in Ancient Greece represented intelligence tbh. Hope you enjoyed!
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sanspuppet · 5 months
Note
it'd be so funny if u wrote a fic where u tap on the tip of woos dick as if it was a mic while saying "is this thing on?"
OK SO I HAD THIS STUCK IN MY HEAD THE ENTIRE DAY-
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- nsfw content (18+)
W/T: oral sex, handjob (both giving), swearing
• not proofread so sorry any mistakes
A/O: still kinda sick but i don't want you to wait longer, also im being very slow at writing lately i dunno why :/ im currently working on another req and the maknae line of the imagine "ateez when you fuck then for the first time" so yeah i have a lot to work on
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"fuuuck y/n- please-" Wooyoung throws his head back, looking at the ceiling to concentrate only on the feeling of your hands grabbing his cock. He squeezes his eyes, his fingers tightening the fabric of the sheets. Pathetic hushed whimpers keep leaving his mouth as you rub your thumb at the base of his length, joyfully watching Woo getting desperate for more touch. A minimal contact between you and his crotch made him insanely impatient to have you work up his dick, as good as you always did: by now you had pleasured him hundreds of times, that you perfectly know which spots have Woo twitching under your touch. You giggle when you hike your hand up his length and jokingly tap the tip of it, bringing your face closer and banter right in front of his cockhead: "is thing on?" like it's a mic, your mic, you own it, using it however and whenever you want. He immediately replies with a high pitched moan: "Ah- yes! fuck it's turned on-" his voice tone is getting noticeably yearning especially when you start to slam repeatedly his tip on your lips. Without even warning him, you suddenly move your head down his pelvis, taking his cock fully down your throat, squeezing it with your lips while your tongue tries to get it even wetter. As if it wasn't enough for getting Woo's mind completely foggy, totally addicted to how warm and tight your mouth feels, you drag your hand down his balls, palming and massaging them carefully as you raise your head to lick only his tip. "Oh shit- i'm close- so fucking close-" you instinctively move your palm on his length and start to stroke it quickly, giving him the perfect last friction that could get him over the edge, to his climax, giving him another enchanting orgasm. "Yes babe, come on..." you attach your lips to his cockhead another time "... cum on my face, paint me good" he's now a whimpers and moans mess, the pleasure's dazzling his mind that the only thing he can do about is praising you and begging you to don't stop. You can't do anything but giggling mischievously while speeding your pace up and watch joyfully how his dick keeps swirling and twisting under your gaze. And then, it happens. Ropes of cum shooting right at your face, drops and drops falling down your chin, licking away what lands on your lips. You looked at him intensely, like you'd want to devour him countless of times. "Being so nice for me Woo, but we're not done yet, you know it, right?"
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wynnyfryd · 1 month
Text
Trailer park Steve AU pt 56
part 1 | part 55 | ao3
March
"Steve, honey," Claudia calls from the living room, where he can hear her shuffling around to get her things ready for work — the rustle of a jacket, the clink of keys against her thermos. "Do you need anything before you go?"
"I'm fine, Ma!" Steve answers.
And he is. He is fine. It’s been three weeks, and Steve is fine! He has a date tonight with a girl he doesn’t care about, and he's gonna cheer on Lucas at the championship game, and the other day at work he got a fifty cent per hour raise. And sure, his nightmares are worse than ever and his head aches all the time, and he’s had some weirdly persistent sinus infection or some shit going on, but he only teared up once this week while jerking off to thoughts of Eddie, so.
All in all, not bad.
He shoves a plain bagel in his mouth and rushes to leave the house; passes Claudia on the way out, who's now rapping her knuckles impatiently against Dustin’s door and asking, “Dusty, what’s going on in there? You’re gonna be late!" to which Dustin replies with a panicked shriek: “DON’T COME IN, I’M NAKED!”
Jesus Christ. "Deafen my other ear, why don't you?" Steve mutters under his breath.
He throws Ma a parting wave and heads out to pick up Robin so he can take her to school before his shift starts. She looks nicer than usual, and she won’t stop reapplying her mascara, and by the time Object of My Desire starts playing on the radio Steve is practically begging her to just suck it up and end this will-they-won’t-they thing with Vickie because it’s been months of obvious flirting and Robin still won’t make a move.
“I listen to you, and now look at me!” he argues, as if the handful of pointless dates he’s used to distract himself from Eddie are anything to look at. “Boom. Back in business.“
“Mm,” she objects, a little ‘you’re so full of shit’ frown on her face. “Not the same thing.”
Don’t say it, you bitch, don’t even—
“You ask out a girl and she says no…”
Oh, thank fuck. Steve sags in relief and licks the corner of his mouth as he listens to her rant, grateful that she’s just working the small town homophobia angle and very graciously not pointing out how half-hearted and sad his attempts to move on with his life have been. It’s a small mercy he repays by rambling about girls and boobies and girls who definitely like boobies until she scowls so hard at him that she smudges her mascara and has to apply another coat.
Dustin calls the store some time around lunch. Asks if Steve wants to sub in for Lucas at tonight’s Hellfire campaign, which, first of all, fuck you — he’s been helping Lucas practice for months now, he’s not about to miss this game — and secondly:
“What, to hang out with you and Eddie the Freak Munson?” he asks, idly playing with a slinky. “Uh, yeah. I’ll pass.”
"Dude."
"What?"
"You can’t just call him names because you’re pissed at him! That’s not cool!”
Steve rolls his eyes and tugs the slinky so hard it flops off the counter’s edge.
“Look,” Dustin says, his voice dipping into that low and slow and trustworthy thing that makes Steve want to snap the kid’s non-existent collarbones. “I know you won’t tell me what happened, but whatever it was, he’s sorry, okay? He’s really, really sorry. And he asks me about you, like, every day; if I didn’t know any better I’d swear he was in love with you or something.” Steve chokes on his own spit, and Dustin just keeps going; steps right over Steve’s corpse to continue his impassioned plea. “Besides, friends forgive each other! Right, Steve?”
Goddammit. Steve really regrets saying those exact words in that exact order the last time Lucas and Dustin had a fight. “Man, you can’t just use my own brotherly advice against me.”
“I can, and I will.” Wow. What a little shit. “Seriously, dude, come on! How many times do I have to pass on his apology messages before you just talk to him?”
How many times? How many times?
Steve doesn’t know.
He just knows he’s not ready; knows that as soon as he talks to Eddie, it’ll make it all real. It’ll be over for good. Whatever words they exchange next will get etched into the headstone of the thing they briefly had. He opens his mouth to say something, to try and make sense of the vortex in his head, but all he gets for the effort is a fresh migraine coming on.
He’s saved from answering by the doorbell’s chime. “I got some customers,” he says over Dustin's squawk of protest. “Gotta call you back, bye.”
part 57
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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sanjimi · 7 months
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my past haunts me, but i'm forever yours.
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sanji x gn!reader
word count: 1.3k
warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of daddy issues, alluded abusive home, angsty but not because of sanji, reader is scared of falling in love, sort of suggestive but not too suggestive.
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calloused fingers brush against the skin of your shoulder. you sit there silently, and he observes. 
sanji has gotten used to your behavior—sometimes you were distant, separated.
“is everything alright, darling?” he still asks every time, despite always getting the same answer. 
it makes your heart warm, but even now you still feel empty. you don’t want to get attached, you don’t want to trust him. trusting leads to eventual disappointment and heartbreak. you knew this well. 
nonetheless, you somehow find the energy to reply in a hum. 
“m’ fine, sanji.”
he loved the way you said his name, even when you were lying. 
sanji brushes your hair out of your face and tucks a finger under your chin, making you look up at him. 
“you hardly touched your food,” he says softly, a hint of concern in his voice. is it real concern? you do not know. “everyone’s already gone back.” 
you realize you’ve been staring into his eyes a while, and you avert your gaze, pulling away from him.
he was right. the rest of the crew had scarfed down their dinners long ago, leaving you to sit at the table alone while sanji did the dishes. they say something about slow eating and trauma response, but you try not to pay any mind to it. you were fine. you had to be. even if chopper has been giving you worried looks all week and zoro keeps a watchful eye on you when you walk down the stairs. even if usopp and luffy notice you didn’t goof off with them this morning, and nami and robin notice that you toss and turn all night. even if sanji's been asking you the same question every day for the past month.
“i’m just not very hungry. i’m sorry, the food is really good i just… i can’t eat right now.” you look up hesitantly, afraid of backlash. he doesn't yell, he doesn’t get angry. he doesn’t force you to eat. he just nods and picks up the plate, turning to the kitchen and putting it away. 
“i’ll wrap it up for you and we can eat later.”
we. he always says we.
“darling?” he repeats the sweet name he decided to call you. “sweetheart, please talk to me.”
when had anyone ever cared for you like this before you joined the crew?
“i…” you start, and he perks up to listen. “i’m fine, i promise.” you try to smile, and laugh lightly. its hard to laugh. you have a hard time getting the words out, but he drinks in everything with complete and utter patience, despite knowing you are lying to his face. had anyone ever been so patient before?
sanji’s fingers find your hand that rests atop the table. his thumb traces the knuckles on your hand. “is there anything i can do?” he asks gently, ignoring the lie. your heart hurts. 
“please don’t.” you pull away from him again. always running, always pulling away. “don’t. you don’t need to do anything.”
he sighs and turns your chair towards him. you try to get up and leave, but he grabs your hands and kneels on the floor below you. he kisses your palms, then brings them up to cup his face and holds them there. 
“please let me care for you.”
his eyes search your face. you sit there, staring at him. you want to pull your hands away, you want to run away and lock the door so you can hide. away from him. away from his prying gaze. away from how he makes your heart burn and feel hopeful because what else can you do when those warm eyes look at you and ask for permission to give you the world? 
do you really want to run away? you run your thumb across his cheekbone. do you really want to, or is that the coward inside of you telling you to push people away? 
“i- i can’t-” your voice shakes, and his hands tighten over your own. you can’t pull away, even if you tried. you suck in a breath.
“i know how this will end. you’ll leave or- or you’ll stop loving me or… or…” you trail off and finally look him in the eye. finally, you let your vulnerability show. “i don’t want to end up like them.” the sentence is said in a whisper, your voice threatening to crack if you let it grow any louder. 
who could have been the cause of this fear? of course, none other than the people who raised you and gave you your name. your parents, with their artificial love that echoed on the walls of your home and made you suffocate until you finally stepped outside. but then you realized you’re still suffocating, everywhere you go. 
you suffocate when you’re sitting alone in your bed on this pirate ship, thousands of miles away from your childhood home. you suffocate when you are at the market, when you sleep. when you eat, when you cry. even when you're around others, you feel alone. 
but why is it that when you’re with him, you can feel a release of the pressure on your throat? could he really be relieving you? or… what if he’s just going to hold you under until you suffocate to death? 
“y/n.”
his voice calling your name is what brings you back to earth. his hands on your skin, he turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrist this time. 
“i don’t ever, ever want to do that to you.” his tone is sincere, his words clear in your head. “please let me help you.” his request comes again, and you feel your heart ache once more. 
you don’t want to say yes. to agree to this outrageous request. how could he expect that of you? but then again… maybe you actually do. how nice it would be to say yes. if you said yes, would the pain go away? the fear?
your body defies you as you nod, wordlessly agreeing to his request. 
he smiles. warm and sweet like the feeling of sitting by the fireplace and drinking hot tea. 
he trails his hands to your thighs, then your waist. he kneads your skin, thumbs pressing small circles into the pain that had settled there over the years. he pulls you up to your feet, one hand now cupping your cheek and the other wrapped around your waist. he leans forward, then stops. his nose gently touching your own, you realize he’s giving you one more chance to run away. 
do you really want this? love is hard. love is breakable. love fades. it hurts. wouldn’t it be easier to just be alone? 
he presses his forehead to your own and brushes his nose on yours. one more chance. will you crawl back into your shell? 
a flash of bravery, and you close your eyes, then lean forward. suddenly, the world didn’t seem so bad. 
soft lips pressed against your own and you’re enveloped in the scent of smoke and rain and warmth—did warmth even have a scent? it must. it smells like sanji. 
kissing him is easy. suddenly all the fears of falling drift away and you’re welcomed with the feeling of something soft at your feet, in your hands, surrounding your body. his hands travel around you and are now on your back, making you arch into him. slowly, as though not to startle you, he pulls away. you chase after his lips. 
he smiles, looking into your eyes and he holds you close. a small smile forms on your lips and he kisses you again. 
you should’ve known. loving him is easier. much, much easier than pushing him away. pushing everything away. it feels like the hands on your throat pushing down have been burnt up, now replaced by lips sucking his name into your skin. 
a small sound escapes you, and you feel the curve of his smile against your throat. his fingers dance at the edge of your shirt, slipping under and pressing against your bare skin. his hands are warm as they tear you limb from limb, pulling you apart and putting you back together. 
yes. maybe loving him was easier. 
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is this a cry for help? maybe. anyway, i wish we all had a sanji
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locallixie · 1 year
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housemates — lee know
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> summary . how can you live your life peacefully with having your housemate constantly seducing you like that?!
> genre . smut, fluff, housemates au, forced proximity, housemate!minho, gn!reader.
> warnings . sexual tension, general sexual themes, minor language, oral (receiving), unprotected sex, tipsy sex.
(wc) > 6.3k
(sunny's note) ☆ "and they were roommates.” wanted to be sweet and cute, until lee minho is in the equation. sorry for the late upload, i had a really bad writing slump and progress was slow. but i made it!
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You shouldn’t have agreed to this if you knew this was how it would turn out. What a mistake, your kindness that yourself and other has taken for granted. And currently stuck in a living situation that tested your patience every waking hours, your dormitory experience was no match for this.
Jisung had asked you for a ‘small’ favour a couple months earlier, about how his friend got evicted and was now homeless, wondering if you could let him stay for a while until he find a new place. First of all, that was not a small favor. Secondly, you didn’t even know this friend that he was talking about. And you were reluctant to let a stranger stay in your house right off the bat. You lived in a dorm before, but that was a dorm and not your own house.
“Please, [Y/N], just a couple months.” Jisung pushed over the phone, you could tell he was outside from the loud and slightly muffled noise that the speaker picked up upon.
Sighing, your soft spot for him would be the death of you. Agreed with hesitation, since you were glad you were out of the dorm life and regained your privacy, but it seemed that life had came to pull you back in. Jisung should be expecting your complaints if something bad happened between you and your new housemate.
From the first initial meeting, you got some of the weirdest vibe from this guy. Maybe it was the amount of black and leather he was dressed up in, or the bitchy look on his face that could kill with a single stare. How the fuck was Jisung friends with a person like this? They were the complete opposite of one another, the guy looked as if he committed first degree murders as his favourite past-time. What you meant was you were convinced that he was a sociopathic killer, and he was probably plotting yours and Jisung’s death soon.
For one person, he sure did had a lot of stuff. You three brought around eight or ten different sized carton boxes up to your apartment, not counting the two gigantic suitcases that he had to take a second trip with Jisung to go get. He must have been living in his old place for very long to have that much stuff, wonder why he got kicked out? Possibly because the landlord found the bodies with how sharp his eyes always glared at.
“Don’t worry about the rent, Minho can pay for his half.” Jisung reassured, starting his car. The engine roared loudly, it had been through a rough day of carrying all that stuff to here.
Before he left, Jisung told you one last thing. “Oh, and don’t be afraid to ask him for help around the house, Minho may look intimidating but he’s quite a sweet guy.” With that sentence stuck in the back of your head, he drove away. If you could even have enough courage to ask him to take the trash out, maybe that statement would be proven.
You did all the house chores yourself, you didn't ask for any assistance from Minho. Wether it was because you were used to having to do everything yourself, or he was just still as unapproachable as the first time you two met. But he too, barely talked to you. You heard his voice once or twice when he was on the phone, but he did not speak a full sentence to you and ought for short few words replies.
"Do you need any help?" Another voice emerged from behind your back, offering assistance.
You pulled the trash bag out of the can, "I'm good, thanks,"
"Whatever, suit yourself." Minho walked away. Not even a bit of small talk? It frustrated you of how aloof he was acting, he didn't want to get to know you at all. However, it pissed him off just as much, you would always shrug him off every-time he offered to help you. As you two had made it clear before, you hardly knew each other, and here you were living together as people of unfamiliarity.
You didn't know his last name, or how he met your three years best friend—Jisung. Neither did he held any personal information about you, he wasn't even sure which variation of your name was the correct one. Already a month has passed by and no one was willing to start up a conversation with the other person. This ice between you and Minho just kept getting thicker and colder.
Ranting on the phone, "I'm telling you, I can not get through him! I think he hate me!"
"Calm down, [Y/N], he doesn't hate you." Jisung reassured, sighing as this was the third phone call of the month that you were expressing your discontent for the same subject. "It's simple, just talk to him, even if it's small talk."
Hearing the front door opened, "Fuck, he's back, I'll talk to you later." You didn't let Jisung say 'bye', hanging up in the midst of his sentence.
Minho worked a nine-to-five job, you weren't sure of his occupation in particular. You got a sense of his routine, he would leave the house at exactly seven-fifty in the morning and usually came home around five or six—depending on the traffic that day. On few occasions, he was nice enough to bring food home for the both of you.
"Hey, you're back quite late today?" You asked, seeing the clock already hitting six at the moment.
He set down a few plastic bags on the table, "I got groceries on the way, I'll cook dinner." He explained shortly, bringing ingredients to the kitchen for preparation.
That was a first, he had never offered to cook before, much less thanking you for the meals you made for dinner. Guessed he was just hot and cold like that, and this was his way of showing his gratitude. You weren't mad, on what normal day would you have someone cook for you enjoy? You technically did everything yourself when you moved out a few years ago.
Watching his figure diligently cooking in the kitchen, it comforted you in an unusual way. He was like your own personal boyfriend—for tonight at least, he would cook and then sit at the table with you to eat, maybe he might even offer to wash the dishes. A fine, hard-working young man? Anyone who could scored him would probably be winning in life. You couldn’t hide your jealousy if he ever bring home a date.
He walked over to you, holding out a spoon with a small portion of thick orange liquid. Minho asked, “Try it, tell me if it suit your taste.”
The tangy flavour stood out immediately, he must have put something citrusy as it melt into your tastebuds. It was good, no, amazing even! This hidden talent of his was worth all the waiting you had done, you never knew Minho could be such a great chef. For a while, you thought this guy couldn’t possibly hold a knife correctly, yet you were proven wrong of your assumptions.
You nodded, the sound you made when encountered good food already told him enough. Everything smelled so mouth-watering, and the presentation was tempting you to devour everything in on sitting.
"Thanks for the food!" As soon as he placed the last dish onto the table, you immediately picked up your utensils. You could not hold yourself back when face with good home-cooked food, good home-cooked food made by an equally good-looking guy.
Minho sat down beside you—he usually sat across from you which kept a nice distance between the two of you—he was very close today. Asked he, "How is it? Good?"
You didn't hold back on your praises, "God, why didn't you cook sooner? This is actual heaven~!"
He simply smiled in a humble manner. Your face was a little puffed up when you eat, which he found quite endearing. Watching you stuffed your entire face with rice, sweet and sour ribs, and eggrolls. Flattered by how much you were enjoying it, yet concerned from how fast you were eating.
"Slow down, wouldn't want you to choke." He gazed at you as he advised.
"Unless you like it like that." Immediately, you started coughing profusely. A grain of rice flew up to your nose, making everything worse the longer it stayed stuck up there.
Minho patted your back, "Woah, are you alright?" Uh, obviously no?! You were coughing out rice over here, how could you even be remotely okay? And how did he expect you to be okay after that suggestive comment he just made? This guy was unbelievable. The smile laced with deviousness, as if he was silently planning something that would catch you off guard—which certainly did a minute ago.
He picked up a single rib and ate it with his chopsticks, he probably mind getting his hands dirty from that sticky sauce he used. How could Minho looked so graceful while eating while you were here devouring everything down like a fucking caveman. Work on your image a bit, would you? Especially when you were living with someone that wouldn't use their hands to eat ribs.
"Have you been talking to Jisung recently?" Minho suddenly questioned, setting down his bowl as to show respect.
You turned to him, confusion sitting on your shoulders and your heart sinking with a bit of guilt. By any chance, did he overheard your conversations? "Yeah, I have." Continued by another question, "What? Are you two not talking?"
Minho's eyes was bigger than you expected, now seeing him a bit closer from your distance from each other. It curved in a very pretty way, and glistened upon every reflections of his soul. You couldn't help, couldn't help but get a little sad every-time you gazed into his eyes, or when they would unknowingly stared back at you. He looked at you, as if through his eyes saw you as the most precious person to exist in the short timespan that was the human life.
"He haven't been answering my texts and calls, I don't know if he's upset with me or something?" Minho sighed, "Can you...just ask him for me?"
In a bit of hesitation, "Would it be a bit rude for an outsider to chime in? Whatever it is you and Jisung are going through, it's best if you two worked it out together...privately." You told, trying to offer other solutions.
Minho let out a tired breath, "I don't know, I'm not sure what I did wrong that made him upset with me, that's what I'm most worried about."
You patted his back, "Just talk it out with him, communication is key!" How ironic, you could hardly hold a conversation with him, and now you were here giving out communication advise? Unreliable source. You knew you shouldn't interfere with whatever beef Jisung and Minho was having between each other, but you were making it seem like you wouldn't ask Jisung for details. Or Jisung would tell you himself from how much he like to rant to you.
Minho flashed a genuine smile towards you, "Thanks, I owe you one!"
Your heart skipped a beat, just one enough for your whole system to go the very bit haywire. You were finally making some good progress with Minho, and his entire intimidating and remote façade all came crashing down when he smiled. Keep up the good work!
“Are you and Minho back on speaking terms yet?” The other line went quiet for a few seconds, you heard a sigh being let out.
Jisung replied with a question, “He told you?”
Fuck, your nosy tendencies were acting up again, it slipped out of you like a natural instinct. “No—um, yeah he did but I don’t know the details or anything! He was just wondering if you were mad at him or something since you stop contacting him.” You went on to explain, trying to tell Jisung that you weren’t intending to be impolite and simply wanted to help your friend out.
The other giggled at your tone of voice, of how freaked out he got you. You acted as if the people you were working for to take down started suspecting you to be a double agent, but unlike those action films, you were terrible at hiding the truth.
“My girlfriend don’t like the fact that I’m still friends with my exes, so she wiped out their contacts from my phone.” The whole problem was finally solved as the explanation came out.
Wait, one thing. “Minho is your ex?!” You exclaimed at the sudden realization.
Jisung was absolutely enjoying this from the other line, “What? You want him?” He teased.
Your face went red, denying the question thrown at you. This whole time, this was the relationship your housemate has with your best friend? And he had never cared to tell you about anything regarding this romance he once had? All these people do was lie. Struggling through your words, you outwardly rejected the idea. “No—! No– I don’t! I—!”
Jisung interrupted, “It’s fine, he’s all yours.”
You tried denying, “No, I don’t want him—!” Quickly being cut of by Jisung once more.
“And he’s a really great kisser—”
“Jisung, shut the fuck up!” You hanged up in embarrassment, throwing your phone away in a state of panic. Why would he tell you that? As if you needed to be more careful around Minho now that you knew these things about him. God, how did he expect you to continue living with this knowledge? Unlike Jisung, you saw Minho everyday of the week.
The door to your bedroom suddenly opened, “Are you okay? I heard a thud.” Minho was still in his work attire, a tad bit sweaty from the heated summer air, the first two buttons of his shirt were left undone. Solely from the condition of his appearance was in, you were mentally restraining yourself.
“Did you just came back?” You asked, begging that he didn’t heard your conversation with Jisung on the phone a few minutes ago.
He replied shortly, “Yeah, I’ll go shower now so we can eat.” Closing your door as he left without another word, left silently with knowing what you said earlier. He heard enough of your phone call, you were too caught up with talking that you didn’t hear the front door open. Minho was halfway across the hall to his room when he heard you shouted, his name fell out from your mouth as clear as day.
Oh, Jisung never told you that he and Minho were a thing? Now it was kind of awkward for the both of you. But if you wanted him, he wanted you too. He saw the way you would look at him, stealing glances from across the table. He was a very attractive guy, you were sure he wholeheartedly knew this, and he used it to his advantage.
Coming out of a cold shower, his hair was wet and dripping water down his back and shoulders, but at least have some respect for you by covering up his entire bare torso. At the dinner table? Was he going to be half-naked for the whole duration of dinner? He wanted you dead, you boldly claimed.
“So…how was work?” You opened up a topic, hoping he would start talking to fill the silence that was ongoing between the two of you.
Minho let out a chuckle, "Not fun." Handing you a pair of chopsticks and a ceramic bowl. That was understandable, he did looked quite worn out coming home after work.
"What do you do, if you don't mind me asking." You raised a question into his occupation.
He began picking up food from the many plates into his bowl, the wondrous scent controlled his chopsticks faster than his mind. Minho answered while pouring the meat broth over his rice, "I'm an accountant."
An accountant? Was that a code word for sex workers? No one in their right mind would go into accounting. Minho out of all people, worked as an accountant? You had no negative comments on his intelligences, or his work ethics. But accounting sounded so boring for someone as interesting as Minho, you thought what he said was a joke of some sort. Maybe he had a side hustle doing unconventional and dirty jobs.
"It's not fun, but I got bills to pay." Minho joked to lighten up the mood, filling in the empty pauses with yours and his joyful laughs.
He shook his head in a subtle yet prominent dissappointment, smiling to hide his actual emotion on his feeling of unfulfillment. "I wish I became a singer back then."
What he said piqued your interest, you looked up at him with a spark of excitement. Straight into his eyes, you asked. "You sing?"
His vocals was almost professional singer level, for a first in the short timespan of knowing him, you saw such happiness on his face. Holding the microphone as he sang you a love song, the amount of money you spent on that karaoke machine paid off. Minho wasn't wrong or thought too highly of himself when he said he should had became a singer, you would have said the same thing if you knew him sooner. And if he did, you would support him with your all.
The atmosphere got a bit hotter and hotter as the night went on, with alcohol entering the table as an uninvited guest. When a sensual song came on, the mood totally changed for better or worse. His loose t-shirt was showing some skin, it was too a little short as it was showing peeks of his toned stomach underneath. Your mind was going places, wether it was because of the alcohol getting you tipsy or it was your inner desires for intimacy.
Minho did not broke eyes-contact with you, in a hushed voice, stating that you were the only beauty he would keep in his sight tonight. Gently holding your hand in his, he placed it on his chest. Did you feel it? Under the warm and shaking palm of yours. His heart beating at a tiny bit quicker pace than usual, beating for you with all of these temptations in him.
"Minho, I should go to bed now, it's getting awfully late." You told, diverting away in a flustered mess. Yet, despite your attempt at diluting the air, Minho persuasion didn't seem to back down. Too heated, too close as you could now smell his liquor-laced breath.
Eyes half-lidded which made his desires just the more prominent, he was serious with no control. Before your lips could touch one another, a loud vibration emerged abruptly that pulled both of you out of that drunken trance.
Blindly grabbing for your phone, your eyelids were giving up as each minute continued to pass by. You didn't look at the contact name, the alcohol was taking over your system like a pernicious poison. A voice echoed out from your phone speaker, it took you a few seconds to register the other line’s speaking and its distinct frequency.
“Where is your report?! [Y/N], you are driving me crazy with your constant delays!” They roared at you, annoyed and angered.
You got off from your place on the couch, walking away with your phone in hand as you used your last few excuses to save yourself. “Seungmin, it’s not really a good time right now, can I call you back?”
Seeing you caught up with work on the line, he figured he would clean up this mess you two made on the coffee table for you. For a moment, he thought you felt it too. He might had read the room wrong, but the way you tried to avert from the situation felt almost like a reassurance for him. As if you wanted to go further with him, go little deeper, but you were unsure if he was onboard as well. He thought of apologizing, after you sober up more than the state you were in at the moment.
You swore, you couldn't remember anything from the night before. Went to bed at nearly one in the morning, woke up head-empty and half of the blankets and pillows were off your bed. Come on, you could confidently say that you did not exceed your limit. Yet as shown this morning, you had a rough night yesterday with the leftover liquor running through your veins.
You were absolutely dumb-founded when he said he was sorry for what happened last night, as if you remembered everything clearly to its very details. Let's see, you ate dinner, you talked, sang a couple songs out of boredom you assumed, then it all when foggy after that.
"What are you on about? I have no idea of whatever the hell you are apologizing for." Telling him straight up, you could not register anything he was saying to make any sense.
Frustrated, and a bit taken over by the shame from yesterday. "No, it's okay, you're better off not knowing anyway. Sorry for making a scene so early in the morning."
Minho finished the few last sips of his Americano, grabbing his laptop bag from under the dining table in a hurry. "I have to go now, see you again at six." He bid goodbye at the front door.
Before he go for the next ten hours, you told him tonight's plan. "I have a few friends over tonight, if you don't mind their companies."
"How many are coming?" Minho asked.
You tilted your head as you tried to remind yourself of the size of your party, maybe even the identities of your guests as well. "Just three. Jisung is going to be there too, if you want to see him."
You could forget anything, anything that you deemed important. But one thing that you couldn't seem to shake off your mind, as it has been bugging you ever since you knew of it, was the bygone romance Minho had with your best friend—happened to be Jisung. Now that you were non-actively trying to persue the guy, it left a bittersweet taste in your mouth. Though Jisung had affirmed that the past was in the past, you could court his ex-boyfriend all you want.
Minho looked down, "We'll talk later, okay? I'm late for work." Leaving things unfinished between you, he closed the door as he left.
You didn't work until around noon, you could work from home if you wanted, yet you still came into the office everyday since things moved faster with you being physically there. But after that call from Seungmin—head of your department, you were already considered brave for the mere thought of showing up. Despite how nice Seungmin actually was, his anger was incomparable to anything you had ever seen.
After your short shift, you went back home to get things prepare. On the way home, you had already picked up a few ingredients. Said ingredients were just a six-pack of cold beers and Gochujang sauce for the beef. The others wouldn't come for another hour, for the time being, you would have to get everything ready by yourself.
Pray to god that the table grill was still working today since you haven't brought it out for a good few years now, it was collecting dust in the very far back of your cupboard. The hangout had been planned for a little while already, you got most of the things a day or two prior.
Was Minho going to join you? His expression carried a bit of hesitation when you asked this morning, though you would be happy to have him if he did changed his mind. The more the merrier!
Hyunjin and Jisung came over just a tiny bit earlier than Felix, guessed he was caught up with some baking for desert. You and your friends were all gathered up together at the dining table, it felt crowded by how small of a space you had to eat for four people. Happy that Hyunjin’s beer wasn’t on the floor since it was standing so confidently at the edge.
“When is Minho coming home?” Jisung suddenly turned to you.
“I don’t know, usually he would be back by now.” You shrugged, just now noticing today’s abnormalities. Maybe something came up at the office, or he had something else he needed to do beside from work matter. Whatever it was, you just hoped he would get home safety.
Speak of the devil, not even ten minutes had passed and the front door softly rang of clicking keys. You came to open the door for Minho, meeting his slightly stunned expression. His glossy tired eyes under the dirty frames of his glasses gazed back at you, his hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead as if he ran his way home. God, he looked rough, but so strangely enticing at the same time.
"Hey, we were just talking about you!" You beamed.
"Sorry, I'm late. My digital files got corrupted, so I had to get I.T to check that bitch out." Minho sighed deeply, you could imagine how long it took to resolve it purely from how worn out he presented.
The others greeted him at the dining table, getting a stool for him to sit since you were out of chairs. Minho was sandwiched between you and Hyunjin, one he knew, one he didn’t. He felt the tiniest bit uncomfortable sitting in such a tight spot, especially when yours and his thighs were rubbing against each other. He didn’t mind it too much, he liked you anyways.
“Ah, Minho! This is Hyunjin, and that’s Felix, they’re my college friends.” You introduced. Though he was a year older, they treated him with a casual formality. Felt more like meeting old friends than new people, your group broke the ice a lot quicker than he had previously expected. Soon you all were drinking and chatting, learning a bit too much about each other for the first meeting.
Felix tapped out, “No more, I’m driving tonight.” With Jisung following along as most had already decided to stop drinking, including you.
You placed your hand on the shoulder of the person next to you, “Are you still going? Damn, you must know how to handle your liquor.”
Minho stared back at you as you spoke to him, his eyes half-lidded like the night before. The first few buttons were unfastened, his bare and defined chest laid underneath the thin fabric. A sheer cast of sweat made his body glistened by the overhead light, his glasses was slowly slipping off his nose bridge which reflected the sweat even more than it should have. His face was flushed red and pink everywhere, flushed from a love confession of a drunken mind. Any minute now, he might just be making out with you.
His heart and guts was burning up with these carnal desires, if your friends weren't here, you could bet he would be fucking your brains out like how you so desperately wanted him to. He wanted you just as much, so shamelessly wanted you.
Minho leaned in suddenly, his lips and hot intoxicated breath lingered your ears. Whispered gently with his mellow, sleepy tone of voice, "When are they leaving?"
“We’re just going to have some tea and brownies, they’ll be on their way soon. Why do you ask?” You returned, asking in with a bit of hesitation in the back of you mind. Could it be he was overloaded enough, or did he not like your friends? You doubted the second one, since they had so much fun together. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen.
He didn’t further elaborate, ending the subject then and there with no other explanation. His intentions were unclear, as if he was hiding something from you but you couldn’t figure out what it was. Hopefully not something shady, or would leave you with a bad image of Minho. Keep it simple, he was probably tired and he needed a bit more peace and quiet. And he couldn't get any peace and quiet if your friends were here, right?
You wanted him to take off his shirt, take every single piece of fabric on his body off, let you admire all of his grace and beauty. Occupied with drooling over your housemate, the teapot seemed to had slipped your mind.
"Fuck!" Yelped you, the heat of the hot tea finally burned your skin.
Hearing pain from your voice, Minho and the others were already there to aid you. Especially Minho, he grabbed your hand into his as soon as he noticed. Luckily for you, the injury was minor and running it through cool water was good enough.
Minho really has you in a chokehold, metaphorically speaking obviously—unless. If you two did become a thing, would it be a little awkward? Maybe not for Jisung, but you were unsure of how or what to think in a situation like this. Though, despite how much you might try to push the idea away due to having quite a lot of repect for your best friend, you couldn't help yourself.
Seduction existed in his eyes and body language, it was subtle yet effective. An absolute disaster that the two of you also lived together, which pumped you up with an amount of hormone that a high-school student would have.
The way he dressed may be ordinary, office worker fashion. His shoulders flexing in his fitted button-up, straight dress pant hugging his thighs. His thick frame glasses further accentuated his winsome features. There was no exaggeration that he, for a definite, has a lot of admirers from work. You too, would be weak on your knees if Minho was your colleague.
It was around eight o’ clock by the time you finished up, which wasn’t late—at least to your definition—but tomorrow was still a work day. Especially for Hyunjin, who was flying out of the country for a business trip, of which it was crucial for him to leave early morning for his flight.
“I’m catching a cab home.” Jisung answered when you asked him how he was going to get home without a car, since the other two already left on their separate ways.
“No, I’ll drive you home.” You offered kindly.
“You drank a lot tonight, you really shouldn’t be driving, [Y/N].” Jisung denied, pointing out the slight alcoholic haze you were in. He wasn’t wrong, you were a literally beast with the bottle. However, you were awake enough to still talk normally and sort of think, like being half asleep.
Reassuring you that he would be fine on his own, and that he would be sure to text you when he arrived at his place. You knew Jisung for too long for you to be worried about him on trivial things, it simply felt like the right thing or a common habitual saying you had going on. You just wanted to take extra precautions since you both had been drinking the whole night, and there were quite a lot of problems existing because of it.
"Don't worry about me too much," Jisung soothed you once more. However he had no regards for what a sentimental moment that was happening between the two of you, immediately back to his ways of joking to dilute the air. "You should be worrying about if Minho can keep his dick in his pants near you."
You smacked him on his shoulder, "Shut up, he's right over there!"
"I mean...I see the way y'all look at each other, we all know, [Y/N]." He commented, giving you a playful look. You wanted to murder Jisung, and you would make it look like an accident too. Were you being that obvious about your feelings? But the way Minho acted around you didn't help too!
Jisung waved goodbye to you and to Minho—who was in the kitchen, washing up dishes and shot glasses. "I'll see you on Saturday for coffee if you can even get out of bed, bye!"
Nodding, as you watched him walk away from your apartment to the main elevator, realization hit later than expected. You yelled out in annoyance but Jisung would definitely laughed it off and ignore you. "Hey, we're not fucking!"
You had to stay up to finish a few reports and lone documents, so that meant you wouldn't be able to see Minho during his morning coffee. Coming over to offer another hand in cleaning up, it wasn't a big mess but was a mess nonetheless. You might take care of everything for Minho to get some well-deserved rest that he has been needing.
Minho turned around as he felt a tap on his shoulder, "Let me take it from here, you should be getting ready for bed by now."
"No, I'll help." Minho single-mindedly refused your offer. "And too, I can't sleep with this raging boner you gave me."
Too sudden, too out of nowhere, your neck snapped to him when you heard him said those words. His expression was neutral, as natural as if he had said and had done nothing wrong. Still washing dishes and bowls, scrubbing and rinsing like he has been doing the same thing for years. Did he heard himself at least, or was it a thought that went loose.
"Oh, sorry." What the fuck were you supposed to reply to that? Thank you? Was that a compliment in disguise of some sort? Feuling the fire even more, the desires becoming stronger and intense, he had agreed to throw away his principles already.
Minho inched closer to you, his eyes on yours as he asked nicely for attention. "If I tell you that I want to fuck you right here right now, would you be mad?"
Face flushed, hot as when you would place your hand on your tea cup to check the temperature. He was evil, disregarding your state of mental stability by saying things of the same kind so out of pocket. He, for a fact, waited for the right time to confess his sins. The kettle was boiling all night, the heat and steams were his deepest thoughts.
You turned off the sink, your hands cool and wet and smell of dish soap from the water. For a split moment, you were solely looking at each other, begging either one to make a move. Minho leaned in towards your direction, his bare forearms brushed gently against yours. The alcohol in both of your bodies made the moment all the more intimate, slowly yet steadily closing your distance between each other, breaking down the wall of sexual tension you had unconsciously built that stood with all its might.
The faint taste of his strawberry chapstick on your tongue, his lips was a little sticky but so soft that you didn’t quite mind. There was no way of stopping him, as you too, did not want to stop the thrill ride that was ongoing. Letting out heavy breaths as he sucked dark red marks onto your skin, lips painting your blank canvas. May he be the only alcohol you would get drunk on, let you drink him up like your sorrows and distress.
“Oh, Minho.” You breathed, moaning out his name as his hands rushing to take off your pants. Hot tongue making a line on your stomach down to your sex, freely as his mouth worked on you like how you dearly enjoyed his food. Both your legs resting on his broad shoulders just did nothing but helped spread you wider.
Your sweet voice singing out to encourage him, using his tongue in all directions that favoured you. Stomach knotting with alcohol and dinner and a heaven he had created for you, coming onto his lips, a result of prolonged temptations.
Every fabric that touched yours and his bodies that day were all scattered on the floor by second round. Never even seen your best friend naked, and here you were admiring his ex-boyfriend’s entire unclothed figure with no ounce of shame left in yourself. You could not keep your hands away from him, so greedily touching him in different places.
Neither could wait any longer, deciding to lay each other’s pride out on the dining table. Minho placed his lips on yours, closing his eyes yet still seeing the vivid image of you in his dark mind. With each passing second, his cock making its way into the very depths of you. You hugged him quite tightly, as if you haven’t scored anyone in a while.
Your eyes told him everything he needed to know, you body twitching and squirming under his embrace, the silent language that told him every one of your secrets. Thrusting faster and harder, wanting to hear you make some more music for his aching soul. Minho grabbed your legs, pushing them against your torso as his cock went deeper into you. You could barely keep your eyes open, or could you stay present with him. This pleasure felt like a dream, a dream that softly pulled you in.
Minho kissed your lips once again, “Baby, don’t sleep on me, I’m not done with you just yet.”
But as much confidence that he may has in him, he was nearing his high and coming apart for you along the way. Minho’s vocals were heavenly when he sang for you, and were just as heavenly when he came into you. He kept going despite being out of breath and tired for you, he started something and he was going to finish it.
Second time felt much more powerful than the first, almost like he gave his all. You could feel his seeds dripping out from inside of you, onto the dining table and even the chairs. Dirtying everything all over again, now you had more cleaning to add onto your list. Guessed neither of you were going to get any sleep tonight.
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antxlss · 6 months
Text
but, you’re my boss I
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pairing: anakin skywalker x reader (modern au)
summary: you and your best friend, padmé have a movie night. she gets tired of you complaining about your lack of a love life and takes matters into her own hands.
warnings: conversation about a sexual interaction
words: 1.3k
a/n: first part is finally out! if you guys know me, you know i’m a slow writer. i hope you guys enjoy the first chapter of this series. once again i’d like to thank the anon that requested this, i hope to do it justice. fair warning this is starting off slow, not a lot of anakin interaction yet. i hope it was worth the wait. as always, feedback is greatly appreciated! ~ max :)
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series masterlist | my masterlist
Your life is boring.
Everyday was the same. Work, eat, sleep, and occasionally go out with your only friend, Padmé. You worked a 9-5 at a big engineering company. You're a receptionist for the customer service department of the company. This is just a job to keep you stable while you complete your master's degree in forensic psychology, then you'll be on your merry way making triple what you make right now.
You hated the job, taking calls, making copies, faxing documents, but you have to keep food on the table. Not to mention your boss is a prick.
It's not like you ever talked to him. The company is huge and he would never spend time to talk to a lowly customer service representative like you. But that's exactly why he's a prick.
Anakin Skywalker. The face of Skywalker Engineering. He's young, late 20's. He's filthy rich. Always has been. He inherited the business from his family and you can only assume he'll pass it on to his children. He's never known what it's like to struggle and you despise him for it, despite never talking to him at all.
You are wrapping up another dreadful day at work, at least it's Friday, when you get a call. You pick up your phone to see who it is, it's Padmé. Who else would it be? You click the answer button and tuck your phone between your ear and shoulder so you can continue to finish up clearing your desk.
"Hey Mé, what's up?" You greet.
"I'm coming over tonight and I'm staying the night and we are gonna binge Harry Potter because I haven't watched it in forever." Padmé rambled.
"Oh my gosh you read my mind." You groaned.
"What can I say? I'm good like that." You could practically hear Padmé's smirk through the phone. "I'll be over at 7."
"Sounds good, I'm about to leave work." You informed.
"Okay, drive safe, I love you!" Padmé finishes.
"I love you, see you later." You reply and hang up.
You quickly finish up, start to grab your things. You are so excited to see Padmé, it's nice to have things to do on the weekends.
You swing your purse over your shoulder and head to the elevator. You press the down button and step in and click the lobby floor. The doors begin to slide closed when all of a sudden they retract back as a hand slides in between them at the last moment.
In steps your boss, Anakin Skywalker.
He keeps his eyes forward and doesn't even glance at you. You shift uncomfortably, the silence becoming awkward, in your mind, very quickly.
"But you faxed those papers over, correct?" Anakin asks with a concerned tone.
What is he taking about? You were the only other person on the elevator, he had to be taking to you.
"Uh- I'm sorry?" You stuttered.
"One second Janet." Anakin taps his ear on the opposite side that you're standing on. "Did you say something?" He turned towards you.
Holy shit. He was using an earpiece.
"No! No, I'm sorry." You wanted to just disappear.
Anakin quickly faced forward again, unfazed, and continued his conversation. As soon as the elevator doors opened you jetted out and practically ran to your car trying your best to forget about that moment. Knowing you, it would haunt your late night thoughts for the rest of your life.
~
It was now 6:30 and you were fixing up your living room all cozy for when Padmé gets here. You get blankets and throw them on the couch and set out the DVD's. You begin to make popcorn when you hear a key turning in the door signaling that Padmé had made it.
You gave her a key to your apartment as soon as you got it. You and Padmé have been friends since your freshman year of college and quickly grew close. Now you consider her more of a sister than a friend.
"Y/N/N!" Padmé squealed and ran over to you in the kitchen. She jumps on you giving you a big hug.
"Mé! I've missed you so, so much." You match her energy. You squeeze her back and finally pull away.
"I've missed you too! So much has happened bitch, you don't even know." She walks over to the cabinet that you keep your wine in.
"Spill." You state simply. 
You grab the popcorn from the microwave and start to pour it in the bowl.
"Okay so you know how I've been seeing that guy Mark, right?" She asks while pouring 2 glasses of wine.
You nod in confirmation and grab the glass of wine from Padmé.
"Well last night he stayed over..."
"No way, bitch! Did you fuck him?" You ask excitedly.
"Yes..." She starts.
"You whore! I bet his dick is so big, how was it..."
Padmé cuts you off. "It was so bad. Like I was ready to die."
"Really? But he's so hot. It's always the hot ones." You roll your eyes. "I want all the hard, wet, nasty details."
She gags. "One, that's fucking disgusting. Two, it actually was the worst sex I've ever had. So we get done with dinner right? And I thought he would invite me to his place but he literally asks me to come to mine. That should've been the first red flag, but you know, he's hot so I ignored it."
You snort and nod your head then take a sip of your wine.
Padmé continues. "So we get to my place and I can't even get in the door before his hands are on me. Not in a hot way by the way. So I push him off me and I lead him to the bedroom so we can properly fuck. Well we lay down and we are making out. He literally started dry humping like a fucking dog. Again, not in the hot way."
"What a turn off." You cringe.
"Tell me about it bitch. So I rush undressing him because I actually thought he was gonna cum just by humping me. Then we are both fully undressed."
"How big?" You interrupt.
"Average, nothing special." She replies. "Anyway, he puts it in and in five seconds he's having an orgasm."
"That's a major ick" You grimace.
"For real. The he had the nerve to ask me if I got off."
"Mé, I hope you didn't let him stay after that." You laugh.
"I didn't even have to kick him out, he just got dressed and left." She explained.
"What a dickhead."
"It's not over though." She grins. "I just matched with his brother on tinder and he is a thousand times hotter."
"That's a such a cunty move, I respect it." You elbow her and she laughs in response.
After a few seconds of comfortable silence you decide to break it.
"Your life is so exciting. I swear I just live vicariously through you."
"That's depressing. Come on, what happened to the Tinder account we sat up?" Padmé asks.
"Every guy I matched with was a fucking creep." You groan. "I'm just about to become celibate or a lesbian or something."
"Okay, I'm tired of hearing it." She shuts you down. "I'm setting you up on a blind date."
You laugh. "Absolutely not."
"Y/N, you just said it. Your life is boring, you can't find any guys, you're going to become celibate. You're desperate. Meaning you are in no position to turn down this offer."
"Okay, fine." You sigh.
"I'll set it up and text you the details later. I think I have the perfect guy in mind." She smirks.
"Whatever, let's just watch Harry Potter now." You get up and grab the popcorn and make your way to the couch. You and Padmé binge the movies all weekend long.
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hunny-bean · 10 months
Note
Hello, I have a Matt x reader x Frank castle smut request. Frank tells Matt what he does with you after his patrol, how tight you are and how good your pussy tastes. Frank takes Matt to his apartment and the two have a lot of fun with the reader. They use the reader like a sex doll. Despite the years with Frank, the reader is too tight and Matt is too big.
In High Demand
Pairing: Frank Castle x Matt Murdock x F!Reader
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Summary: Matt's been overworking himself. Frank knows someone who can help him relax.
Word Count: 8.2k
Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit Sexual Content, Threesome, Oral Sex (M and F Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Praise and Degradation, An Obscene Amount of Dialogue, The Reader is Very Slutty (I'm Sorry. . . No I'm Not).
A/N: Well, I'm officially out of the frying pan and into the fire. Of course, by fire, I mean threesome. I'm sorry this took so long for me to finish. I'm a bit of a slow editor. If you have any constructive criticism, I will absorb ALL of it happily. I'm trying to improve my writing skills as much as I can. Also, I'm always taking requests! XOXO.
Read on AO3
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
"I really appreciate you helping me out with this, Frank."
Frank looked up from where he was sitting with his back against the brick barrier. "Yeah, well, I owed you one," he replied, "and I'm not a huge fan of being in debt."
The two vigilantes were resting on a vacant rooftop, listening closely for any signs of danger. Hearing nothing, Matt figured the "Devil of Hell's Kitchen" had driven everyone with something to fear from him back inside. He declared his nightly patrol a success. As soon as he switched off attack mode, he felt the exhaustion hit him, and he slumped down on the wall next to Frank.
"So, you're saying you did all this to balance the scales?" Matt asked incredulously.
"Just about," Frank muttered, scratching a little blood stain off the knife Matt let him borrow. "And I only beat up one guy, so it's not like I actually had to work for it."
"I'd say you worked hard enough. I mean, you did make it all night without killing anyone."
"There you go again with that self-righteous bullshit," Frank groaned. "What I don't get is why you would ask someone you constantly feel the need to babysit for help."
Taking a deep breath in, Matt forced himself to stand, getting ready for the walk back to his apartment.
"You were convenient," he explained. "I knew your skills and I knew where to find you. Also, you're not nearly as lethal without all your guns."
"Well, fuck you too," Frank grumbled. He waited for Matt to take a few steps towards the ladder before chucking the knife he was holding directly at the back of his head. He watched it spiral through the air, perfectly on course, only to land gingerly in Matt's hand. It was almost like the knife changed its trajectory at the last second, but Frank knew that wasn't the case. Besides, it's not like he actually wanted to hit him. He didn't even think that was possible.
Matt turned back in his direction. Even through the mask, Frank could feel the raised eyebrow. He ignored it. Hopping up, he made his way over so the two of them could walk together.
"Okay, but why ask for help at all?" Frank pressured. "It's obvious you can handle yourself, and you've never asked before."
"You know as well as anyone how unpredictable these streets can be," Matt began. "You're right, most nights I can handle myself, but. . . I wasn't so sure about tonight. I wanted someone there, just in case."
He was about to start climbing down the ladder, but Frank's voice stopped him before he could.
"Something tells me you're not gonna be so sure about tomorrow, either."
"What?"
"Come on, Red. Look at yourself. You're practically dead on your feet," Frank pointed out. "It's three in the goddamn morning, you just fought like fourteen people, and now, what? You're going home to get your two hours of sleep before work?"
"Four."
"That's still not enough, and you know it."
"I'll be fine," Matt asserted.
"No one can do that every night and be fine."
"Why do you care?"
"Because unlike some people, I actually respect what you do around here, and I don't wanna find out what this shithole would look like without you," Frank raved. There was a long silence after that, both men startled by the declaration.
"You won't."
Matt began his descent, ready to end their conversation. Frank, it seemed, had other plans.
"If you were fine, you wouldn't be taking the ladder," he called down after him.
Matt paused, resting his head against the metal rung in front of him. He was really starting to get aggravated by Frank's incessant concerns. The most annoying part was that he was right. Matt would usually make it home from patrol in two minutes flat, his feet touching nothing but rooftops. He picked a shorter building with a ladder tonight because he feared his body was too sore to make the jumps. To say it had been a rough week would be an understatement.
'You have nothing to prove,' he repeated in his head like a mantra. It worked at first; he made it another three steps down, but then he heard Frank's stupid voice again.
"Why won't you just admit that you're burnt out?"
Matt gritted his teeth, unable to hide his frustration any longer. He gave up on avoiding conflict and began climbing back up to the roof to be on the same level as Frank.
"I am not burnt out," he growled.
There was an awkward pause as Frank looked Matt up and down, thinking. He carefully considered his slumped posture and his shoulders racked with tension. Matt couldn't see him, but he could feel Frank's eyes examining him, and it made him uncomfortable. He was about to say something, but Frank broke the silence before he could.
"When's the last time you got laid?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.
"I'm sorry-"
"You're not a virgin, are you?"
"What? No!"
"So how long's it been?"
Matt wasn't sure how to feel about the sudden shift in the argument. he kinda felt like he was in a train headed towards a cliff that suddenly veered off course. He was safe from the fall, but who knew what lay ahead of him now?
"Why the hell would you want to know that?" he asked.
"Just answer the question."
"Uhh, a few months? I don't kn-"
He was interrupted again by Frank letting out a low, impressed whistle.
"That's even worse than I thought," Frank said.
"You've thought about this?" Matt asked, horrified.
"No, jesus christ, man, it's obvious. You're all tense 'n shit. You look like you haven't relaxed in a while, that's all."
Matt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask. "I think we should go," he mumbled.
"I think you should get some."
"Ok, well it's not like you've got someone waiting for you at home either," Matt snapped.
Frank looked at Matt quizzically, letting out a surprised chuckle.
"What?" Matt asked, exasperated.
"Nothing," Frank responded. "It's just that you really are off your game."
"What are you talking about?"
"There is someone waiting for me at home right now."
"Bullshit."
"I thought you could, like, smell it on me or something," Frank speculated.
Now that he mentioned it, Matt did notice something different about Frank's unique smell. There was a slightly sweeter scent intertwined with his typical smoke and rosewood. He knew Frank wasn't lying, but for some reason he didn't want to believe it.
"I didn't hear anyone else inside when I came to get you," he added.
"She was out with some friends. She should be home by now."
"You realize how made up that sounds, right?"
"Cut the crap. You know it's true."
"Yeah, I know," Matt conceded. "She your girlfriend?"
"Yeah. . . At least, I think she is."
"Do you go out on dates often?" Matt supplied. He made a 'come on' gesture to encourage Frank to follow as he started down the ladder once more.
"I don't exactly know what counts as a date in your world, but I think we do." Frank inhaled sharply as he almost lost his footing on a loose bar.
"Wait, does she know who you are? The terms of your agreement-"
"I remember all the terms, thanks," Frank muttered. "I didn't tell her. She figured it out pretty quick though. Maybe I should grow a beard or somethin'."
"Do you love her?" Matt asked when they reached the bottom. The two of them started off in the same direction for their homes, taking only the deserted back alleys they were all too familiar with.
"Well I've only known her for three months," Frank answered, dusting little flakes of rust off his black jacket, "but I think I'm really starting to. She might just be the prettiest, sweetest girl I've ever known."
"That's a good sign. Okay, one last thing: Does she sleep with other people?"
Frank suddenly looked like he was remembering something funny. "Only if I ask her to," he smirked.
Matt was pretty sure his brain short-circuited, and he stopped dead in his tracks. "The correct answer would have been no," he deadpanned. "Why the hell would you ask someone to do that?"
"Well, Red, there's this thing you should know about my girl. I know she seems all cute and innocent at first, but she's actually the biggest slut I've ever met."
"Okay, TMI," Matt complained. Naturally, Frank ignored him. They began walking again, talking more about Frank's secret girlfriend.
"I'm telling you, man, she's perfect," he bragged. The night we met, I found her blowing some guy behind a bar."
Matt had to admit, that was a little amusing. "And what?" he asked, "you just went up to them and started hitting on her?"
"Not exactly," Frank laughed. "I was just walking home, and the guy she was with thought I said somethin' to him or some shit, 'cause he came over to me and started tryin' to pick a fight, right? Well, anyway, I knocked him out cold. Save the lecture, he was a dick wad and he wasn't even that drunk. But this girl, she thought it was hot, can you believe that? So, she starts hitting on me, saying I look strong and dangerous, 'cause apparently she's into that. She kept asking me to take her back to my place, and she was obviously hammered, so I did, just to keep her safe, you know? Almost immediately, she passes out on my bed, too tired to even try to fuck me anymore. Luckily, when she woke up, she remembered everything that happened, and I gave her my number in case she ever needed me to punch somebody else for her."
"And did she?" Matt prompted. He didn't actually care that much, but it was a decent story and it was definitely helping him keep his mind off his injuries.
"Yeah, two days later," Frank grinned. "She wasn't calling for a bodyguard, though. When I picked up, she told me she hadn't been able to stop thinking about me and was wondering if we could talk for a while so she could 'satisfy her curiosity'."
"She sounds very forward."
"You've got no idea. She's absolutely shameless, especially when she's drunk. You know, when she called me, she spent the whole conversation trying to pretend like she wasn't getting herself off."
"Wait, what?!"
"So, I had to sit there for an hour and listen to her try not to moan, and she's usually pretty good at staying quiet, but sometimes she gets so fuckin' wet that she just can't."
"That's disturbing," Matt lied, and was once again ignored.
"It's real easy for her to cover up the noises coming from her mouth, right? But the other ones. . . not so much. So, the whole time, I was just on my couch talking to her, and I was going absolutely insane 'cause I could hear what she was doing. After a little while, I just snapped and I told her if she wanted to hear my voice that badly, she could come over and I'd help her out."
"And?. . ."
"And she did."
"You slept with her the second time you met?"
"Yep. And the third, and the forth. . . probably the first eight times we got together. I mean, we were just goin' at it like every single night. It was amazing. She's so fuckin' tight, like tighter than most virgins. And she's damn good with her mouth. Like, the first time she sucked me off I almost saw your God. I don't think there's a single thing she can't do. Not much she won't do either."
"Really, dude. Stop."
"Whatever, man. I realized I actually liked her when she spent a full weekend at my place. We went out for lunch and played cards and watched a movie. She was just so smart and funny and I couldn't stand the thought of her leaving," Frank reminisced.
"So, is that when you asked her out?"
"No, that was when I asked her to move in with me."
Matt didn't even know where to start unpacking that. Before he could say anything, Frank stopped walking in front of a tall staircase behind a brick building.
"This is me," he announced.
"Hold on, you still haven't answered my question," Matt reminded him. "Why did you ask her to sleep with someone else?"
"Oh, yeah," Frank mused. "About a month ago, I went out for drinks with this old friend of mine, and was going on and on about how he hadn't gotten laid since his divorce. He seemed about her type, so I took him back to our place and had her take care of him for me."
"And she did it, just like that?"
"I told you she was great, didn't I?" Frank beamed.
"And neither of you cared?" That was something Matt was having trouble comprehending. He'd always been pretty possessive in his relationships, and the thought of sharing his partner was completely foreign to him.
"I am not a selfish man, Red. Anyone who dies without experiencing that pussy has never truly lived."
"Good to know."
Frank leaned casually against the wall behind him, crossing his arms over his chest.
"So, uh. . . you interested?"
It look Matt a moment to process what he was being asked, and when he did, he didn't know how to feel. On the one hand, he didn't want to take any more help from Frank, especially not for something like this. He didn't want to come between a happy couple, either, even by invite. On the other hand, it had been a while, and the girl that had been described to him sounded remarkably satisfying. He began to realize that Frank was right: He seriously needed to get laid.
Frank decided Matt had been thinking a little too long.
"Do you like eating pussy?"
Matt was startled out of his inner turmoil. "You can't just fucking ask someone that," he hissed.
"Why not? You seem like you would," Frank stated nonchalantly.
"Fine. Yes, I do."
"Good. I'm tellin' you right now, there ain't a woman in all of New York that tastes sweeter than my baby. You get between her legs, you come out knowing things you didn't think were possible, swear to God."
"I find that hard to believe," Matt scoffed.
"I mean it. I could spend hours down there. I did once, actually, 'till we both passed out. . . But I guess you'll just have to find out for yourself, won't you? Come on, man. You really need this."
"I don't know, it just doesn't sound like such a good idea."
Frank rolled his eyes. "We're all adults, we can have a little fun. If you want, you can come up to get your dick sucked and then head home. It doesn't have to be a big thing."
"You seem very adamant about this," Matt noted.
"Well, I do aim to please," Frank quipped. "I'm talking about you and her. I think my girl would have a lot of fun with you."
"What makes you say that?"
"You're pretty easy on the eyes, you know. Also, she seems to have a thing for jaded middle-aged vigilantes. So, what do you say? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Murdock."
Matt sighed, and reached up to rub the back of his neck. For the life of him, he couldn't seem to remember any of his reasons for saying no.
"Alright," he decided.
Frank's face broke into a wolfish grin, and he began ascending the staircase towards the window at the very top of the building. Matt followed close behind him, wincing at the pain in his sides as he climbed. When the two men got to the top, Frank knocked four times at the glass.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
You had just finished changing into one of Frank's old t-shirts when you heard the familiar rattling of the window pane. You dried your hands on the bathroom towel and smiled as you went to let your boyfriend back inside.
Using that word was strange to you, but still it made you giddy with excitement. You never thought you would meet someone wonderful enough to settle down with, but finally you had. Frank was the most perfect man you'd ever known. He understood you in ways no one else could, and with him, you were satisfied. That was a miracle in and of itself.
You slid open the creaky window with a hard push, and watched as Frank hopped through it with a gracefulness that contrasted sharply with his bulky exterior. He seemed completely unharmed, as per usual, but you had still been worried about him. There was always that small chance he would come home covered in his own blood and full of broken bones. You were about to tear into him for not leaving a note when you noticed the red figure slipping in behind him.
"Hey, sweetheart, you remember me telling you about Matt, don't you?" Frank asked, cradling your face in his hands and giving you a sweet hello kiss.
"Is this him?" you responded, giving the new arrival a once-over.
"Yeah, this is him. Hey, Red, why don't you introduce yourself."
Matt stepped up to you and offered his hand for you to shake.
"Hi, I'm Matt. Frank's already told me all about you," he said cheerfully, almost like he knew something you didn't.
Frank stepped up behind you, resting his hand on your lower back and leaning in to tell you something.
"If you're up for it, I'm gonna need you to do me a favor, alright?" he mumbled. You could tell Matt heard everything. You remembered what Frank had told you about him and his unique talents.
You turned towards Frank, sliding your hands under his jacket and leaning in close.
"By that, do you mean you're gonna need me to do him a favor?" you wondered. Frank tucked your hair behind your ear and twirled it idly around his fingers.
"He's pretty high strung right now. I figured he might need a little somethin' special to relax."
"I'm perfectly capable of getting laid on my own, Frank," Matt butted in. Frank ignored him.
"Have I told you how beautiful you look today?"
You laughed. "Yes, about twelve times this morning. You don't need to flatter me, I'll do it."
"You're amazing," Frank marveled, giving you another chaste kiss before turning to address Matt.
"How about you start by taking that stupid helmet off. Let my baby see what she's working with."
A small thrill ran through you when you heard Frank address you as his. You watched as Matt pulled his mask off, revealing the rest of his face. He looked a little nervous but you couldn't see why. He was absolutely gorgeous. His messy hair from the suit only added to the effects of his boyish charm. You noticed he did look rather tired, but that did nothing to dull his handsome features. You could tell you were gonna have a lot of fun with this one.
"He's even prettier than you," you joked.
Frank swatted you lightly on the ass and pushed you in Matt's direction. "Watch it," he growled playfully.
You stalked over to Matt and kissed him lightly on the cheek before pulling him over to the couch.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" you asked gently.
Matt swallowed thickly, trying to adjust to his situation. "Yeah, I'm okay," he responded. You hoped he'd settle in soon. There was something about him that told you he could be a lot of fun when he warmed up. Then again, that was what you were there for.
"What do you want?"
"I'm not exactly sure. Really, I can just go if-"
"No!" you interrupted. "I don't want you to go, I want to make you feel better. I'm okay with whatever you want, promise."
Matt seemed to be struggling to come up with what to say. Honestly, you were feeling a little nervous too, even though there was no reason to be. Suddenly, you realized what the issue was.
"Hey, Frank?" you called out. He came over to the two of you holding a couple of beers in one hand. He passed one to Matt, who accepted it gratefully.
You waited until he was next to you before admitting your problem to him. "I think we feel a little weird because we don't have any rules. Could you maybe. . . tell us what to do?" you asked.
Frank nodded, sitting down in the ratty old armchair next to the couch.
"Why don't you ask me what you wanna do with him, and I'll give you the go-ahead. Sound good, baby?"
You looked over at Matt who seemed to have relaxed some. You definitely found the source of the problem. All you needed was permission.
"Can I kiss him?" you asked.
Frank's eyes were sparkling with his newfound control. "You can kiss him all you want, sugar."
You slid closer to Matt, turning his head towards yours. "Stop me if you get uncomfortable," you whispered, and then leaned in to press your lips to his. Matt groaned and immediately deepened the kiss, eagerly exploring your mouth with his tongue. It was obvious now how much he needed this.
He tasted good in a way you couldn't explain, and you didn't want to pull away until you'd figured out what it was. You could feel the throbbing in your core picking up with every passing moment. Your breath caught when you felt Matt reach up to run his fingers through your hair. Wanting to move things along, you climbed into his lap so you could be pressed against him, chest-to-chest.
"Pull her hair. She likes that," Frank suggested.
Matt complied, tugging gently, then harder when he felt you shiver against him. Leave it to Frank to know exactly what you want and when you want it. You pulled back from the kiss to look at your moderator, rolling your hips hesitantly to gauge his reaction. He nodded, and you watched him palm himself roughly through his pants. That was all the encouragement you needed.
Returning to the kiss, you began grinding down hard against him, hoping that he could feel your movements through his thick suit. Matt reacted in a way that showed you he certainly could, gasping and grabbing onto your hips to push up against you. You moaned when one particularly hard thrust allowed you to feel the outline of his cock through your clothes.
"Oh, what the fuck," you breathed, pulling away from the kiss in shock. There was no way in hell he was that big. You settled your weight fully on his lap, gently rocking back in forth to feel more of him. You had to make sure that you weren't just imagining things. You weren't. He was absolutely fucking huge. You weren't sure how he was supposed to fit inside you, but dammit if you weren't excited to find out.
Matt seemed amused by your reaction to your recent discovery. He could smell the sudden increase in your arousal that accompanied the feeling of you getting wetter. You felt his hands tighten on your hips, holding you still as he grinded up against you. Every thrust was deep and dirty, inciting the growing heartbeat between your legs. It felt like he was showing off, or using his knowledge of a secret you had to tease you.
"Feel something you like, baby?" Frank asked from the sidelines.
"Uh-huh," You responded inattentively. You were too focused on the feeling of Matt's bulge rubbing against you to say much more than that.
"Why don't you head on down to the bedroom, alright sweetheart? We'll meet you there in a minute," Frank urged.
Reluctantly, Matt released you and you wandered down the hall to wait for the two men to come join you.
Frank waited for you to be out of earshot before moving to the couch next to Matt. They sat for a second, sipping at their drinks before Frank spoke.
"I know you have a fuck ton of ideas about how you should treat a woman, but I'm gonna need you to forget that shit before I take you back there, okay? I'm doing this for you, but if you don't make this good for her, I will kick you out, got it? She's not interested in your kindness tonight. She wants you to treat her like an object. Like a dumb whore you're just using to get off. I know you've got a dark side in there somewhere, Red. I need you to tell me right now if you think you can use it."
Matt never expected that to be something that would intrigue him. It had always seemed so cruel and taboo. . . but if it was what you wanted. . .
"I can."
"Good." Frank stood up and began walking towards the bedroom. After a few steps, he remembered something and turned back around. "Also, what the hell, man? I'm not letting you fuck her without stretching her out first. I know I said you could hurt her, but I don't want you to make her bleed."
When they made it to the bedroom, they found you laying back against the pillows, gently teasing your clit through your panties. When they came through the doorway, you pulled your hand away, looking up at Frank shyly. He raised an eyebrow at you, scoffing at your innocent expression.
"You couldn't wait two minutes?" He sighed. "I'm not gonna embarrass you in front of our guest, baby, but next time you might not be so lucky."
"I'm sorry," you whined.
"No you're not." Frank came around the bed to sit next to you and directed Matt to sit down on your other side. "I think it's about time to take this off, what do you think?" Frank asked, tugging on the hem of your (his) shirt. You nodded, and he pulled it over your head, leaving you completely naked save for your soft cotton panties.
"What do you want right now, baby? His mouth or his fingers?" Frank offered, turning your head towards him. You were a little confused that those were your only options. Weren't you supposed to be making Matt feel good? Confusion aside, you still couldn't choose. They both sounded very appealing.
"Damn, Red. You must've done a good job back there. She's already having trouble thinking," he teased, flicking you gently on the forehead. "Why don't you use both?" he suggested.
Matt smiled, beginning to understand how Frank expected him to treat you. "If she's all fuzzy from a little kiss, are you sure she'd be able to handle both?"
"I guess we'll just have to find out, won't we?"
You weren't sure what it was, but when Frank talked about you like you weren't there, a combination of arousal and safety washed over you. It always seemed to put you in a different headspace.
Matt climbed on top of you, finding your lips again as he slid your underwear down past your knees for you to kick off. He pulled your legs apart and began tracing your folds gently with his fingertips. Every touch was a completely new sensation. Matt was experimenting, figuring out where you were most sensitive, which motions you preferred and how hard he had to rub your clit to make you whimper.
He circled his fingers around your entrance, dipping into you just enough to feel you pulse and tighten around him, trying to pull him deeper. Right before you started begging, he pushed two of his fingers all the way in, curling them to explore your soft walls. It didn't take long for you to gasp and melt into the pillows as he brushed against your sweet spot. You hid your face in his neck, whining as he assaulted it over and over while bringing his thumb up to massage your clit.
Frank shushed you gently from his spot on the bed, reaching over to stroke your hair as you shook from the intense stimulation. You felt yourself dripping down Matt's fingers, and you could hear the wet sounds you were making as he fucked them in and out of your tight heat.
He pulled you right up to the edge before you heard Frank tell him to stop.
"Not yet," he muttered. "She'll get worn out after the third one, so you should probably make 'em count."
You huffed as Matt pulled his fingers out, earning you a proud and dangerous smirk. He gave you another sweet kiss as an apology.
"Sorry, angel. I don't make the rules," he reminded you.
Any disappointment you felt was soon replaced by the image of Matt sliding down the bed to get between your legs and pull them over his shoulders. Almost as an afterthought, he brought his hand up to his mouth to taste the palm you had drenched. As soon as his tongue touched his skin, you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. His eyes darkened to look almost predatory, and he tightened his grip on your thighs. He glanced in Frank's direction, silently begging for his permission to proceed.
You didn't see Frank's approval, but you knew exactly when Matt got it because he dove into your cunt like it was a fucking desert oasis. In a lot of ways, it was. He wasted no time with teasing, instead shoving his tongue inside of you as deep as he could get it. Your vision went blurry as your eyes rolled back in your head. Grasping desperately at his hair, you pulled him harder against you until you were worried you would hurt him, but he barely seemed to notice.
He drew his tongue out to give your soaked pussy a few hungry licks, drinking up everything that dripped out of you. The wet noises he created with every suck or swipe of his tongue were enough to have your face flushed with embarrassment and excitement.
Feeling ignored, Frank grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a fervent kiss. He dislodged one of your hands from Matt's hair, guiding it over to rub at his clothed erection. You squeezed him through his pants, humming happily when you felt him twitch and grind up into your palm. Deftly, you undid his button and zipper, tugging his pants down just enough to slip your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. You didn't do anything else until he said it was okay.
"You want it, baby?" he murmured against your lips. You nodded, pushing your hand farther in, but you just barely managed to brush against it before he grabbed your wrist. He broke the kiss to look you in the eye, moving his hand from your jaw to gently hold your neck.
"You gotta use your words, sweetheart. You know that," he crooned.
"Please, can I touch it?" you sighed, moaning when Matt started stroking your clit again. Frank used his grip on your wrist to pull your hand deeper in until you could firmly grab his aching cock. You began tugging it slowly as it pulsed and hardened further in your grasp. You swiped the pad of your thumb over his slit and felt him drip onto your fingers, easing the glide of your palm.
You felt yourself getting close again when Matt stuffed his fingers back inside you and sucked hard at your clit. This time, no one stopped you from falling over the edge. You sobbed as your release rushed through you, tightening your thighs around Matt's head and your hand around Frank's cock. Matt groaned against you, savoring the scent and the taste of your satisfaction. Frank hissed at the added pressure, thrusting up into your fist which was slick with his precum.
The two men reluctantly pulled away from you as you came down from your high, giving you time to catch your breath. They returned to their positions on either side of you, stroking your hair or your shoulders as you refocused on reality.
"You were right," Matt announced, breathing almost as heavily as you were.
Frank smirked, looking over you to assess Matt's disheveled state. "Yeah? 'Bout what, exactly?" he asked.
"Everything," He admitted dreamily. To anyone who didn't know the effect you had on fortunate men, he might seem drunk or high. You supposed he kinda was.
"You were talking about me?" you whispered, hiding your face in Frank's neck. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.
"I was just braggin' about how good you are, baby," he promised.
Matt laughed quietly at Frank's statement like it was an inside joke no one else would understand.
"He said a lot more than that," Matt disclosed to you. "He said you were the biggest slut he'd ever met. Honestly, he would not shut up about how tight you were, or how good you tasted. I thought he was exaggerating, but I think you just proved me wrong."
You smiled into Frank's shoulder, enjoying the attention. He tapped you lightly on the hip to get you to focus on him.
"I believe you were just given a compliment," he signaled.
Taking the hint, you rolled over to face Matt, angling his face towards you to give him a soft kiss as a thank you.
You looked down to where he was straining against the fabric of his suit. A small wet spot was becoming more visible at the tip of his swollen bulge. You caught yourself before you stared for too long, worried you might start salivating if you let your mind wander far enough.
"That looks uncomfortable," you pointed out. "You should probably take it off before it starts hurting you."
Matt agreed, standing up beside the bed to start stripping off his clothes. If he were dressed normally, you would offer to help, but you didn't even know where to begin with that thing.
"I'm sure she wants to return the favor," Frank advised Matt. "I'll go ahead get her stretched out while you use her mouth, alright?"
When Matt was in just his boxers, you tugged him back down to take your spot in the middle and climbed on top of him. Frank had stood up to finish taking off his own clothes, and when he was done, he kneeled behind you on the bed to get you in the right position.
You found yourself face-to-face with Matt's thinly veiled hard-on and your ass up high for Frank to take you from behind. He slid three of his fingers inside you, pumping them in and out a few times to see how relaxed you already were. As soon as you had freed Matt from his final barricade, Frank pulled his fingers out and shoved his cock inside you in one smooth thrust. You moaned loudly at the sudden intrusion, wincing at the stretch but enjoying it nonetheless. Frank gave you a moment to gather your bearings before he began to move.
"Focus on him, baby. He's the one you're supposed to be paying attention to," Frank directed. That was easier said than done when you were being relentlessly fucked from behind, but you had been wanting to get your mouth on him for a while now, and you weren't gonna pass up the opportunity.
Now that you were seeing him in person, Matt's size was almost intimidating. You were glad Frank took it upon himself to stretch you out first, because you were sure you'd be feeling it in your stomach when it was time to switch. His head looked tight and angry, and you watched as a small bead of clear fluid welled out of the tip and ran down the side. You leaned in to catch it with your tongue, whining softly at the taste.
"There you go, sweetheart," Frank praised.
You licked a long stripe up the underside, stopping when you got to the top to suckle gently at the head. You wrapped your hand around the base to stroke him firmly as you focused on taking the first few inches comfortably. It was already stretching your mouth quite a bit and your jaw was aching from trying to force yourself down on it. Before long, your spit was dripping onto your fingers and sliding down to settle at the base, creating slick sounds as you tugged at his length.
You moaned around him when Frank gave a particularly pointed thrust, nailing your spot dead-on. Provoked by your reaction, he repeated the same motion until your eyes rolled back in your head and you could no longer focus on the task at hand.
"Come on, pretty girl. You can take more than that," Frank fussed. "If you want his help, you can ask for it. Don't be shy, baby."
You were reluctant to ask because you wanted to prove yourself to Matt, but you didn't think you would be able to take more on your own. Usually, you were pretty good relaxing your throat, but there was no way you could swallow even half of him without choking. If you wanted to make him feel good, you would need him to take over and force you to blow as much of him as he wanted.
You pulled off of his cock teasingly, hollowing out your cheeks on the way up and swirling your tongue around the tip. You gave it one more little kiss before resuming your strokes, looking up at him to see which motions garnered the best reactions.
"Please," you whined, using your other hand to guide his to your hair.
"Please what, sweet girl?" Matt asked, petting you gently where you placed his hand. You swallowed your pride, giving in completely to both of them. You no longer had anything to prove. You were ready to be used however they saw fit, not caring about anything except making them feel good.
"Please, fuck my mouth."
"Aww, is it too big for you?" Matt consoled, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Do you need my help, angel? You're already being fucked on one end, is that not enough?" he mocked, tightening his grip on your hair.
He knocked your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own so he could rub it across your lips. You opened your mouth for him, and he slowly pulled your head down, forcing you to take him in until you choked. He held you there for a moment, groaning and thrusting up into the wet heat of your mouth before letting you take a breath. He continued like that for a while, guiding your head up and down, forcing you to go deeper each time until you couldn't take anymore.
Behind you, Frank wedged a finger in beside his cock, grunting at the added friction. You gasped at the new stretch, your release slamming into you unexpectedly. You arched your back and pushed into the feeling as he deftly attacked your sweet spot. Frank grinned at your reaction, smacking your ass once to watch you jump and hear your muffled yelp.
"I'm just tryin' to get you loosened up. I didn't mean for you to like it that much, you slut," he teased affectionately. He slipped in another finger, curling them to tug gently at your entrance until he felt that you were ready.
He took his fingers away, giving you a few more hard thrusts before he slid his cock out too, leaving you completely empty. He left a sweet kiss at the base of your spine, letting you know you had done a good job, and moved around you to talk to Matt.
"She's ready for you, if you're interested," Frank informed cockily. He watched how Matt was thoroughly fucking your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with every thrust, pulling you down to meet him half-way. You were doing much better than Frank had expected you to. It looked like your mind was somewhere far away, and you were just letting Matt use your mouth as a cocksleeve.
He started slowing down his movements, letting you up further and further, until you were back to just sucking at his head while he gently stroked your cheek with his thumb. Finally, he pulled you off of him with a soft, wet pop, edging out from under you so he could switch places with Frank. You whined at your sudden emptiness, burying your face in Frank's stomach as he took Matt's vacant spot.
"Is she always this desperate?" Matt asked, replacing Frank behind you. Frank laughed, caressing your head softly as you began mouthing and licking at his abs.
"Pretty much. Actually, she's doing better than she usually is. I think she's just upset that she didn't get you to finish."
"Really? She likes that part?"
"Oh, she loves it. Some days, she even asks me to pull out so I can come in her mouth. Ain't that right, baby?"
You nodded into his hip, sucking a dark bruise into his v-line.
"Why don't you go ahead and finish me off," Frank suggested to you. "I'm sure it'll make you feel better."
He grabbed himself around the base, enticingly pressing the wet head against the seam of your lips. Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth and swallowed him all the way down. You moaned lowly, purring at the feeling of being able to take him comfortably down your throat. He wasn't small by any means, but he was more familiar and significantly less jaw-breaking that Matt.
"Fuck, baby," Frank groaned, tugging at your hair. You were content just to stay like that for a while, holding his heavy length on your tongue and feeling him subtly grind his tip against the back of your throat. With your head still, you could feel every little twitch and taste yourself in every drop that leaked down your throat.
"You wanna move at all?" Frank asked, his muscles tight with restraint. In response, you nuzzled your nose against his skin, swallowing around him in the hopes that he'd let you stay there.
"No? You just like having your sweet little holes filled, huh? That's fine, sugar. You don't have to move an inch, but I'm gonna need more than that if you wanna make me come. Do you wanna make me come, baby?"
You hummed your assent, the vibrations sending a shiver up Frank's spine.
"Then suck," he commanded, and you obeyed. You used as much suction as you could manage, creating a satisfying friction without all the typical motions. You teased the underside of his cock with the flat of your tongue, listening to his quiet grunts as you drew him closer to the edge.
Behind you, Matt was listening to the sound of your wet cunt dripping onto the bedsheets. He kneaded your ass and thighs in his hands, ensuring that you were fully relaxed before trying to fuck you. Soon, he was nestling his cock between your soaked folds, lining himself up with your tight entrance.
He rubbed the small of your back as he began pushing himself in. He was met with an alarming amount of resistance, and he didn't even get the first inch in before you were clenching down around him and letting out a pained whimper. He pulled back, afraid he would tear something if he carried on.
"Frank, it's not gonna fit," Matt told him. Frank huffed, too busy chasing his own pleasure to think about problem-solving.
"It'll fit, just keep going," he reassured. "She likes the stretch. Hurry up and fuck her already."
"If I tried, I would break her," Matt warned. "Why don't we test out a different position?"
"Fine. Hang on for just a second."
Frank tightened his grip on your hair, whispering a quick apology before pulling you halfway off of him. He gave you no warning before he was slamming back in, forcing a surprised squeak out of your chest as he ruthlessly fucked your mouth. Barely a minute passed before Frank's thrusts grew sloppy and more desperate. His cock pulsed wildly against your tongue, and he let out a guttural groan as he came hard down your throat. You eagerly swallowed every drop that spilled out of him, waiting for him to soften a bit before releasing him from your mouth. Laving sweetly at the sides, you cleaned him up as best you could before he pushed your head away from oversensitivity.
"Alright," Frank mumbled, scooting over so you could take his spot in the middle. "On your back, baby."
You flipped over to face Matt, opening your legs so he could settle in between them.
"Pretty slut," he commended, leaning in to kiss you as he lined up with your needy hole once more. "We're gonna make it fit, alright? Don't you worry your cute little head about it."
As soon as the words left his mouth, he began pushing his hips towards yours, his thick cockhead stretching you out obscenely. You winced at the pain, trying to force yourself to relax, but it wasn't working. Matt grunted at the vice grip you had on him, but he didn't advance further until he felt you could handle more.
From beside you, Frank played with your hair and kissed your neck in all your favorite spots until he had taken your mind off the pain. When Matt felt you unclench, he gave you another inch, once again stopping to allow you time to adjust. He continued on like that for a while, feeding his cock into your pussy in small increments until he was completely buried inside you.
As soon as the pain subsided, feeling something that deep was absolutely incredible. You felt yourself get wetter when you realized you could just barely make out the outline of his length poking through your tummy. It was evident to both of you from the very start that this wasn't gonna last long.
"Holy shit, you're squeezing me so tight," Matt groaned, starting a series of very shallow thrusts to get you used to the feeling. "This is what you were made for, sweetheart. You feel so fuckin' good," he praised. Slowly, he began picking up speed, fucking you harder and deeper like he couldn't control it anymore. You felt so full, you figured it was a miracle that he was even able to get half-way in. You couldn't stop the noises that Matt punched out of you with every heightened thrust. Because of his immense size, there was never a moment when he wasn't rubbing directly against your most sensitive areas.
Matt could sense that you were getting close, and he knew he wouldn't be far behind you. He started snapping his hips into yours impossibly harder, spurred on by the prospect of your impending release.
"You gonna come on my cock, angel? It's okay, you can come," Matt encouraged. He heard you cry out and smelled the sudden spike in your arousal. He knew he had you right on the edge. "Come for me sweetheart," he breathed.
You almost screamed as you came, your body arching up off the bed, every muscle tightening and trembling as your pleasure coursed through them. Matt cursed at the feeling of your walls clenching and fluttering around him. He let out a subdued moan as he fucked into you three more times before coming deep inside you. You felt the comforting warmth dripping down your thighs when he slipped out and collapsed on the bed beside you.
When you came down from your high, the night's exertion finally caught up with you. You cuddled into Frank's chest, and he pulled you closer, murmuring to you about how good you were for them. Matt slotted his body into place behind yours, leaving kisses on the back of your neck and stroking your side gently.
"Thank you," he whispered, and before you could respond, he was already asleep. You were about to follow suit, but a thought popped into your head, keeping you awake.
"Is this gonna be a one-time-thing?" you asked Frank, opening your eyes to see his face. He didn't seem surprised by your question. Honestly, he seemed like he'd been expecting it.
"It doesn't have to be," he responded. "If he's ever up for it again, I'd be fine with it."
You nodded, closing your eyes again and starting to drift off to sleep. You passed out in less than a minute, but not before you heard Frank say something that, in the morning, you thought must have been a dream. Nevertheless, it was nice to pretend it was real.
"I love you, baby."
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
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bangchansgirlsblog · 3 months
Text
Bending over back
Warning: kissing? A bit of angst, it’s not traumatizing I promise
Pairing: Chan x reader
Summary: Basically your in love with him but your his assistant.
-A/N: i don’t know how I wrote this, it’s quite boring idk. Prolly gonna do a part two. I don’t like this one. HELP.
**
"Chan?" Her footsteps followed quickly behind him trying to keep up with him as we walked into the dressing rooms.
"Yeah?" He replied dryly as he sat into the makeup artists chair after saying a quick hello.
"You have a meeting with Eunwo and the PR tea-"
"Y/n honestly I don't have time for this right now. You see I have a show in a few minutes and you decide to tell me all this now?" He scoffed and looked up from his phone.
"No Chan it's just that-"
"Just that what? Look your a great assistant and all but your sometimes so uncoordinated. Do you really expect me to remember all the meetings I have?" He glared up at her.
She was wearing her usual knitted sweater, tight pencil skirt and some lofers. Her hair was up in a bun and she held her IPad and Chan's bag one in each hand.
"I'm sorry, it won't happen again," she hung her head low and looked at the floor.
"Good, now go sit on the couch and sit there looking pretty," he stated and went back to scrolling on his phone.
Y/n was so confused because he would be so nice to her and then be the worst person to her at the same time. It was so confusing-
"oh and for God's sake Y/n what do I say about your sweater? It's ugly, I can't have my assistant walking around in such. Get rid of it. You know what, I'll even take you shopping,"
There it was, his sweet and sour side. Y/n was slowly getting tired of the abusive but at the same time she really didn't mind because she had the biggest crush on her boss. The biggest crush ever since she had join JYP and she walked into their first rehearsals as stray kids.
She basically watched him grow up and her feelings grew even more because of all the time she spent with him. Same hotel, same flight, same car, same house, same office. They were together 24/7 and not once did Chan ever try to make a move on her. He just became more and more bratty and even though she was okay with it, it hurt because she thought that maybe one day he would see her as something more but-
"Y/n get me water please," she heard his voice call for her.
Nope. He wouldn't see her as anything more. She accepted it and she was getting exhausted.
The rooms were all lit and they all had different people in them doing different things so it was very confusing for her to note where what was.
The crowded hallways and the lack of space was slowing her down from completing her task and it was frustrating her. Everyone was busy doing their own thing and wasn't bothering to help her out at all. It was almost like she was invisible.
"Can someone please show me where the water dispensers were set?" She asked anybody that could possibly hear her. No one dared to respond so she finally gave up and went into the other guys' rooms hopeful to find that they had accidentally set all of them there and low and behold a whole box of water was sat in Hyunjin's room.
He was getting his makeup aswell so she quickly slipped in then out. Making sure not to distract anyone and she run down the corridor and back to Chan's room where she found him done with his makeup and was now dressing up.
"Thank you love just drop it over there," he instructed. "Can you go pick up one of my friends from the backstage entrance. Her name is Min-Ji. Giver her this so they can let her in," he passed her another backstage pass with her name on it. His smile was very visible. Was this his new girlfriend?
Who was she? Was she pretty?
These thoughts run through her mind as she walked down the same corridors once again until she made it to the backstage door. She gave one of the body guards a high five with a bright smile and handed him the pass.
"I'm here to pick up Chan's friend," she smiled as she told one of the popular and most familiar guards.
"Oh, Chan has a new friend now?" He teased.
"Yeah I geuss, I've never met her before. Do you see her anywhere out there?"
"I'll have to make a call, one second," he Smiled and made his way back outside making sure to lock the door behind him for safety purposes and after what felt like hours but were actually 10 minutes, he came back with a girl. A really really skinny, pretty girl. Her eyes were perfectly shaped, he body was shaped like an hour glass, her skin was made of glass, her lashes were long and she had such beautiful lips.
She was dressed in a two piece and really looked/smelled good. Y/n was comparing herself so hard. The way she dressed was no way compared to the way this girl was dressed and her beauty was no way near the way this girl looked. Her heart was beating at a fast pace and now she knew that she had no chance against her. She knew Chan would never go for a girl like her when he was right next to whoever this was. It made her sad thinking about it.
"Hey! You must be Chan’s assistant," ouch, assistant? Was that all she was? "I'm Min-Ji but everyone calls me Jiji," she smiled and put out her hand for a shake.
"I'm Y/n. The assistant," she shook the hand quickly and led her to Chan's changing room.
"This is really such a big place," Min-Ji commented as they where making their way down the corridors.
"Yeah it is,"
"How long have you been working for Chan?" She asked trying to make conversation.
"About 6 years,"
"Do you have any advice? You know...for me?" That made Y/n start to slow down her pace because what was she trying to say?
"What do you mean?"
"Well you know...I have a big crush on him and he invited me here tonight. Do you know how i can be different? Like catch his eye?" Her cheeks were red from all the blushing she was doing. Probably thinking about all the possible ways her and Chan could be together.
Oh.
"Well, I don't know really. Just be yourself I geuss," Ofcourse such a hot girl like her wanted Chan! It was Chan after all! Ugh! The hot tears started to build as she thought about the situation over and over again.
"Chan she's here," y/n knocked on the door and slowly pushed it open.
"Ahhh, great! Min-Ji! Hey love," he smiled and moved away from the stylist to give her a hug,
"Hey Channie! Long time no see," she giggled.
"How are you? Please take a seat, I still have a lot before I get ready. Y/n please, get her a drink," Chan said.
"Ofcourse," she smiled through her teeth. Deep down she wanted to die as she watched the two interact and be all touchy. That should be her but..
She's just an assistant.
**
The show was great, everyone was happy with the outcome. Everyone had fun! Everyone enjoyed their time there and now it was wind down time. One of the trickiest parts of the day because everyone was shutting down so everyone was everywhere.
"Y/n you can go now, wait for us outside," Chan said shooing her away. She was shocked at this action. He wanted to spend some alone time with Min-Ji and it was so obvious. The both of them had been whispering and giggling with eachother for the past 30 minutes. It made sense for him to want her out. She wouldn't be surprised if they fucked.
The pain that she felt in her chest turned into anger and the tears that threatened to leave her eyes were not making it any better. Why? Why did she have to go and fall in love with her boss? Why her?
"Y/n!" Someone yelled for her making her jump a little, "what are you doing outside?! Get Chan and let's go!" One of the managers yelled as he walked up the corridor towards her.
"Sir? Sir he’s in there with someone-"
"Did we hire you to be standing around all day?! I told you we're on a tight schedule! We should be in a bus right now because we have a flight in less that 4 hours," he run a hand through his hair as he continued to yell at the poor young girl.
"Sir I tried to tell him, but his with-"
"Get him in the bus now. I don't want your excuses," he shoved past her making sure to hit her shoulder. Her hand automatically rub the area. Her feelings were now even more emotional than before.
She had tried warning Chan but instead of understanding Chan yelled at and now she got yelled at again. Was anyone going to actually be nice for once?
She quickly knocked on the door and prayed that Chan wouldn't be pissed off. Maybe he would be in a good mood to be rushed.
"Chan we really need to go! Please just come out," she begged.
"5 more minutes!" He replied.
"Chan we need to go! Mr-" the door swung open and cut her off. Min-Ji came out with her hair a mess and her lipstick everywhere. Her cheeks were flustered as she quickly made her way out and past her. Seeing her like that was the last draw for Y/n as tears slowly started to roll down her cheeks. She looked back inside the room and saw that Chan was fixing himself.
The tears wouldn't stop as she looked at him, analyzing him and trying to find some type of reason to run away and hide.
"Hey, do you think that..." he trailed off as he turned to look at his assistant. Worry quickly filled him as he made his way to her. "Hey? What's wrong?"
Why did he care? Y/n thought.
"Did someone do something? Why are you crying?" He looked down both sides of the corridors and saw that no one was there, so what was really going on?
"N-nothing," she shrugged his hands off her body and made her way inside but was stopped by a hand grabbing her arm.
"I've never seen you cry before so something has to be wrong-"
"I'm just your assistant," she sobbed. Chan was taken back because yes she was his assistant but that's not what she was to him.
"What do you mean?" He asked. His feelings now getting worked up but he couldn't help but ask why? Why was he getting so worked up after seeing her upset.
"Chan just let it be, we're going to be late," she wriggled her hand out of his tight grip and put her iPad inside her bag. She grabbed everything and made sure everything was left in place before grabbing his bag but was quickly stopped again.
“Y/n, love. Tell me what the matter is, I won’t tell anyone,”
The tears were heavy as they fell but nevertheless she still had shit to get done and Chan was shocked as to why she was still able to get shit done when she was having a mental breakdown. He felt bad.
"L-let's go," she breathed. Her chest pumping up and down at a high pace.
"Can we talk about what's made you upset?" Chan asked softly.
"Chan not now, please..."
"Later?" He asked hopeful and he got a head shake in response but he was satisfied with it.
"Can you atleast calm down for me? Just breathe," he took a few steps closer until he was towering over her. His hand land by her arms and he rubbed them trying to calm her down. It was working but the intense eye contact he was holding with her was scaring her. Her brain was foggy as she silently got lost into his eyes. Little did she know he was also getting lost in her eyes. He slowly analyzed her facial structure….he found her beautiful? The tension grew as he kept whispering encouraging words so she could calm down
until she did it.
She got on her tippy toes and kissed him he instantly kissed back and when she realized what she was doing she pulled away. Adrenaline run through her body as he looked at her shocked.
“Woah,” was all he was able to say to her.
Embarrassment grew in her chest before she knew it she was running out with door. She run to fast that she couldn't hear Chan's calls for her.
She entered the bus and sat in one of the empty sits and covered her head with her hoodie and pretended to sleep.
What the hell was that?
**
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thursdaygxrls · 9 months
Text
thin ice — one
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part one | part two | part three
summary — she didn’t handle the sports section of the campus newspaper, but apparently, she did this week. interviewing hockey players was easy, though—unless one of those players happened to be peter parker.
pairing — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!journalist!reader
disclaimers — i don’t own peter parker. and pls don't come for me with the accuracy of this situation i'm begging
warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty’ (there’s a reason, i promise), slight one sided enemies to lovers, sewer slide jokes (very briefly), possible maybe slightly ooc, and very unedited
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“You’re joking. You’re pulling the biggest prank I’ve ever seen, you are the impractical joker,” she huffs out, her eyes wide as furiously clicks her mouse, “I’m gonna die. I’m writing the note tonight—farewell, my lovely!”
“Woah, okay,” MJ, her roommate, had only just entered the room when she was bombarded with a sudden rant. She didn’t even have time to take down her ponytail of thin, red braids before her eardrums were assaulted.
“I mean it.” Spinning her chair, she meets MJ’s eyes.
“I literally just got here,” MJ plops down on the bed in front of the desk, “Care to tell me why you’re writing that note?”
“I’m a dumb, dumb girl, that’s why,” she groans in response.
“We already knew that.” MJ’s words only cause the girl in front of her to shoot daggers with her gaze; “Sorry, sorry. Why are you a dumb, dumb girl?”
“God, okay, so,” she lets out a loud sigh, “Eli is gonna be gone for the rest of the month—Europe or something, good for him. Anyways, they needed someone to cover his assignments for him until he gets back, and I volunteered, but, like, only to be nice, y’know? I did it as an obligation. But…”
“But?” MJ pressed.
“I just got an email, and it’s me,” she grumbled, “They’re putting me on Eli’s assignments.”
“Hm, I see,” MJ’s lips curl into a frown as she gently rubs the girl’s arm, “Too much work?”
“Oh, no, my stuff’s easy,” she waved her off, “Just reading the poetry submissions. I mean, it can be exhausting, but it’s not too bad.”
“Then what is it?” MJ cocks her head.
“Eli…Eli does sports,” she shuddered. MJ couldn’t contain the loud laugh that slipped out, clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle it.
“You’re worried about sports?” She giggles, her eyes twinkling.
“It’s not funny!” She smacks MJ lightly, “Sports aren’t unbearable or anything, but, like, why me? I don’t know enough! I’ll screw it up, I’ll lose my spot, they’ll stick me back in—”
“Relax,” MJ grabs her shoulders, bringing her closer, “First off, no, you won’t lose your spot, we both know they’d be losing their minds without you. Second, they wouldn’t just throw it on you if they thought you’d give them bad work, right?” She eyes MJ almost suspiciously. There’s a momentary stare-down before she relents.
“I hate that you’re right,” she sighs, spinning her chair around. MJ stops the spin by putting her hands down on the arms of the chair.
“Thought you’d be used to it by now,” she giggles, “So, what do you have to do?”
“I don’t know.” Is the mumbled reply.
“You didn’t even look?” MJ laughs again, “You were losing your mind, and you didn’t even know what you’re doing?”
“I’m sorry that I’m sensitive,” she huffs. Her gaze moves back to the laptop before her. The email is open on the screen, so she begins scrolling through it, MJ reading the words over her shoulder. Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head when she gets to the end.
“Fuck this,” she almost slams her laptop shut, but is stopped short by MJ.
“Slow down!” The redhead slaps her hand out of the way to read the rest of the email.
The ESU hockey team had made it to the NCAA Division I Men's Ice Hockey tournament for the first time in six years—and they were doing damn good. Eli had been tasked with interviewing the team captain as well as a few other star players, but, of course, it was no longer Eli's job.
"Oh, come on,” MJ rolled her eyes, “They gave you a Google Doc with questions, all you have to do is ask them and write down their response."
“That's the problem, I have to ask,” she shivered.
"You've done interviews before!" MJ was ready to smack her.
"With professors! And cool artsy people! Not hockey guys," she cringed, “I bet half of them are in a frat. They're probably gonna be assholes and tell me I have cooties."
“Are you twelve?” MJ groaned, “You sort of lucked out with this—half the work is already done for you! You don’t need to write up any questions!” A sigh left her lips as she took on a more comforting tone: “If it makes you feel any better, Harry is on the team.”
Ah, Harry. MJ had been seeing him for a little over a month by now. He wasn’t a bad guy at all. A little full of himself, but nice enough to talk to. Her eyes roved over the list of players she was set to interview. Sure enough, Harry Osborn was there. So was Miles Morales, who was described as an extremely promising freshman. Zack Coleson, who had the highest number of goals for the season. Last on the list was the team captain: Peter Parker.
“I can talk to Harry,” MJ offered, “I can let him know that it’s you doing the interviews. I’ll make sure he tells them to go easy on you—”
“No, no,” she shook her head, “That might make it worse. And they already know that it’s not Eli coming. Or they should, at least”
“You sure?” MJ quirked a brow, her features crinkling in a way that was only intelligible as concern.
“They’ll be walking on eggshells around me if they know I’m chickenshit, I won’t get a good interview,” she sighed. Even if the interview wasn’t what she wanted to do, she was going to have to. And she would do a good job—a great job.
“You got this, Kitty,” MJ squeezed her shoulders. The nickname pulled a smile from her, and she gave into MJ’s touch.
“We’ll see about that,” she relented. Her eyes traveled back to the computer screen. The interviews were scheduled two days from now at the Stark Memorial Rink.
“Hey, MJ,” she hummed, “Could you grab me my noose?”
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The rink was colder than she expected. The empty stands provided no body heat, not to mention there was a literal sheet of ice on the floor. Tugging at the strap of her messenger bag, she took slow, careful steps to the plexiglass.
Clink.
Her eyes widened. There were around ten to fifteen guys in full gear out on the ice, and another ten to fifteen more on a bench near the glass or flitting around the edge of the rink. She was nervous, so she got there early. Now, she was stuck watching them practice.
Leaving was so tempting. She could go back to her dorm, or better yet, leave college entirely. She could just give up and fall off the grid, cut her credit cards, throw her phone in the ocean, sail off to Greece—
“Hello?”
She cursed the muffled voice that pulled her back into reality. Blinking, she found that standing before her was one of the very hockey players she’d seen skating on the rink before her. He was tall, and gear under his black and purple jersey made him appear far more bulkier than she theorized he was. He slipped his helmet off to reveal brown, curly hair that was drenched in sweat.
“Hi,” she replied, trying not to sound as nervous as he would. He cocked his head at her as he popped out his mouth guard.
“This is a closed practice,” he said, though, he didn’t sound all too upset that she was here.
“Oh, yeah, I know,” she nodded quickly, her fingers toying with the strap of her bag again, “I’m a bit early, I’m supposed to be interviewing some people on the team. I’m—”
“Kitty?” She was interrupted by the sound of a voice as well as skates scraping across the ice. Glancing past the guy in front of her, she saw Harry slide off the ice and clomp to benches where they currently were.
“Hey, Harry.” Her lips were screwed up in a tight grin. He’d heard MJ call her Kitty once, and now it was the only thing he’d refer to her as.
“Kitty?” Mystery guy repeated the name with a hint of intrigue.
“It’s not my real name, my friends just call me that,” she shook her head.
“What’re you doing here?” Harry asked, swinging an arm around the shoulder of the guy in front of her.
“I’m Eli’s replacement,” she explained, trying to plaster a friendly smile to her lips, “I’m doing the interviews.”
“Aw, shit, why didn’t MJ tell me we got the cool Kitty-cat on the case?” Harry grinned.
“Could you try to never say those words again? Really hated it, thanks,” her nose crinkled.
“You got it.” He tried to point finger guns at her, but with the thick gloves on, it just looked like he was pointing his whole hand.
“Hey,” he started up again, “You’re a little early, so practice isn’t over yet, but we’re almost done. It’s just the four of us, right?”
“Right,” she nodded in response. It was a relief that they’d been briefed on the situation.
“Alright, well, I’m Harry, obviously, Miles and Zack are on the ice somewhere, and this right here—” Harry jostled the shoulders of the Mystery guy, “—is Peter. Oh captain, my captain!”
Peter chuckled as Harry clapped him on the back. The noise that emanated from the friendly hit was harsh, but Peter didn’t move a muscle.
“Right,” she nodded, “So, I figured we could do them individually? There’s some sort of specific questions for each of you.”
“Sounds good, Kitty,” Harry replied. She’d smack him if he said that name again.
“Sit tight for a bit,” Peter spoke up. Even with the stubble on his chin, his smile gave him a boyish appearance. He looked her up and down quickly, “We can try to wrap up practice early.”
'A bit' ended up feeling like forever. At first, she tried to distract herself with her phone, but it didn't work: she would open apps, scroll through them, then close them just to reopen them over and over again. So she organized her bag, which took about five minutes. Time seemed to tic by in a tauntingly slow manner. It was only when she saw a few of the players emerge from the locker room did she let out a breath of relief. She immediately sucked that breath back when she realized that she would actually have to talk to some of them.
Harry went first. It was easy enough to go through the questions with him. It was like talking to an over-eager relative at a family reunion, one who was just dying to talk about all the new things they're doing. Miles wasn't all that bad to interview, either. He was a lot more nervous than she was. His awkward pauses and constant strings of 'um' and 'uh' was almost comforting. Then came Peter.
"Kitty," he grinned as soon as he saw her seated on the bench next to the rink. He no longer wore his gear—just a hoodie and a pair of gray sweats. His hair, however, was still wet and tousled. She gave him a tight lipped smile in return.
"That's not my name," she replied. Before she had time to properly introduce herself, his raspy chuckle was already echoing through the open arena.
"You said that's what your friends call you, right?" He cocked his head as he sat down on the other edge of the bench.
"You're not—” If she could just make it through the interview without fuss, she'd be one person away from being free, "—right. That's what my friends call me."
"I'm going to be recording this, just so I can reference it later," she explained almost monotonously.
"This isn't my first time," he responded with another light laugh. She had to physically bite her tongue to fight off any comments. A soft click sounded from her phone as she started a new voice memo. Her eyes scanned the list of questions on the page before her. Some she'd already asked to Harry and Miles: How does it feel to make the tournament? What is the atmosphere of the team right now? She chose a fresh question to start with.
"What's it like to be the captain of this team? Are you proud? Overwhelmed?" She asked, her voice taking on a new tone closer to a news anchor than a regular person. Peter's lips curled up at the change.
"I'm proud, yeah," he nodded, his voice smooth, "This is a great group. But we all work our asses off, so I'm not surprised by how far we've come. Being their captain is really something."
"And—"
"Do you normally do sports? For the paper, I mean." Before she could even get her next sentence out, he interrupted her. Her grip on the papers in her hand tightened.
"No, not normally," she grit out, "And going along with your thoughts on being captain, what about making it to the tournament this year?"
"It's the best feeling in the world. It's something I've been chasing after for years now, finally getting to it is just...sort of indescribable." Even when his tone is nothing but sincere, he can't wipe the cocky grin from his lips.
"I can imagine," she smiled tautly in reply, "What was it like working your way up to captain? Was it a personal journey, or did you get support from the team?"
"I'd say it was an even mix of both," he hummed, "Do you like hockey?"
"What?" She furrowed her brows.
"Are you a hockey fan?" He reiterated, "Because our next game is home, and it's sort of packed, but I could get you some tickets assuming you don't have some already—"
"No—Peter," she let out a frustrated huff, tapping on her phone to momentarily pause the recording, "This is an interview, not social hour."
"Aren't interviews inherently social?" His smirk was infuriating.
"I mean that I ask the questions, you answer them," she grumbled, "Do you act like this with Eli? Are you not taking me serious because I'm a woman?"
"What?" His smirk fell immediately, "What? No—no. I'm taking you seriously, I take women very seriously. I'm all for women. They're great."
"Then can we just do this interview and get it over with?" She sighed, her finger hovering over the unpause button. He nodded, but before she could resume the interview, he quickly added: "But do you want tickets?"
Ignoring the question, she carried on. Peter seemed to mellow out after a while and didn't interrupt again. It was almost surprising how well he'd listened: he was giving her real, insightful answers to her questions without a hint of flirtation. The final interview with Zack flowed easily, and she fled Stark Memorial Rink as quick as she could.
Transcribing the interviews was the easiest part. Days later, she would be hunched over her computer in the darkness of her shared dorm, playing and replaying the recordings and typing out the words onto the screen. Her concentration was briefly interrupted, though, when the door opened and a stream of light threaded its way through the room and onto the back of her head.
"Light bad!" She slapped her hands over her eyes, "Light very bad!"
"You're gonna go blind if you keep staring at your computer in the dark," MJ spoke in a warning tone, but ultimately closed the door.
"Then blind I must go," she sighed, swiveling on her chair to look at her roommate, "How was class?"
"Normal," MJ shrugged, sliding her bag off her shoulders, "But I have a little something for you."
"Something for little ol' me?" She gasped in dramatized delight.
"Yes," MJ grinned widely as her hand reached for the zipper of her bag, "Close your eyes."
She obliged immediately, her nose scrunched in anticipation, "I hope it's a million dollars. Is it a million dollars? Am I close?"
"Almost," MJ giggled. After a moment of anticipation, MJ gently grabbed her hands and place something into them. It was thin and papery and rectangular. Opening her eyes, she looked down to see a white envelope with 'Kitty' written out on the front. Her brows furrowed at the unfamiliar handwriting.
"Is there a check for a million dollars inside?" She asked as she cocked her head.
"No clue, it's not from me," MJ shrugged.
"Then who's it from?" Her fingers slid under the lip of the envelope.
"Harry gave it to me to give to you," MJ grinned, "He said it's from Peter."
She should've sailed to Greece when she had the chance. Inside the envelope were two tickets—Empire State University versus Pennbrook University this Saturday at seven. A long groan left her lips before she finally met MJ's eyes.
"You never got me that noose I asked for."
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a/n — not sure how i’m feeling abt this one guys. hockey peter has been causing me brain rot tho so i couldn’t help myself.
652 notes · View notes
yuri-is-online · 9 months
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Hi!
I saw the 300 followers event, and I'd like to request prompt 9 with Leona, Ace, and Jamil
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9. Jealousy pt. 2- someone from a rival school asks for your number
Hi hi! Thank you for your request, I hope you like this friend.
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, Check out the rest of the event requests on my masterlist here.
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Leona
"Overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer." Leona has heard you say that more than once, always in a tone that suggests you are mimicking something or someone; from your world he assumes. Not that he really minds, it's a nice quote. Snappy. And the first time he heard you say it you had been critiquing Azul, not him. Not him, even though it could easily apply.
That's why it is thundering in his skull right now, needling at that knot in his forehead that refuses to leave, twitching in his snarl as he watches some RSA brat wind his way around your shoulders.
Slow.
"I've got to say," purrs the stranger, lightly resting a hand on your shoulder as you consider what power you need to invoke to get him gone "I was surprised to find someone so nice attending NRC." You can't really think of a good reply, the awkward laughter that stutters out of you doesn't seem to count.
Insidious.
"It would be a real shame to let such a chance encounter go unsavored." He could have chosen a less suggestive tone of voice, or maybe it's just Leona's previous comments about how you should try to avoid "getting eaten" that are working double time on your nerves. "Perhaps you could give me your-"
Killer.
"Oi." Leona's voice rumbles, you swear there was an actual roar before he spoke. The RSA student certainly jumps back from you like there was. "You are making them uncomfortable." The student apologizes, to you or Leona you have no idea, as Leona settles a comforting hand onto your shoulder.
"Thank you, sorry for-"
"Don't." Leona is surprisingly calm. "'s my job to scare off bottom feeders like that anyway."
Well now. That is news to you.
Ace
There is something of a disadvantage in always being around the person you like when you aren't quite sure how much it is you like them just yet. The full realization tends to come at an inconvenient time, making ordinary situations into ones of great annoyance. For example, a casual walk through Craneport where you run into some kid from RSA who is also casually enjoying his day of with a friend.
"Cute, right?" A great big dog is happily panting as you scratch her ears, a smile just as shiny as her owners beaming up at you.
"Super cute!" You resist the urge to kiss her all over her massively cute face while Ace tries to fight off an existential crisis. That is a dog, he is feeling jealousy over a dog. What's going to make him insecure next, a tooth brush?
"Her name's Ginger." The stranger says with clear pride. "She really likes you, I'm almost sad to see you go."
"Only almost?" You laugh and give a final head pat to the very good girl while Ace swallows. Anger, jealousy, general annoyance at your obliviousness? Who knows.
"Could I get your number then?" Asks the stranger. "I'm sure she'd love to get to know you."
"I'm sure she would!" Ace's heart skinks, hand going behind his head to awkwardly soothe his wounded heart. "But I think I'll have to pass." You don't give a reason and the stranger doesn't ask, just takes his loss on the chin as you begin to walk again.
"So why'd you say no?" His voice is surprisingly even even if the question feels like it stumbles out of him.
"Oh well you know..." You shuffle along, as eager to let the topic die as he is to press it. "I've already got a favorite ginger." He snorts, threatening to break into a full blown laugh. "I do!" You protest, oddly serious and extremely embarrassed. "And he's enough of a handful already."
"I'm sure Cay-kun will be happy to hear it." Ace laughs, winking back at you as he prepares to run back towards the bus, shouts of protest somehow falling on deaf ears and stroking his ego.
Jamil
Sometimes Jamil is envious of Floyd. His reputation wouldn't take a dive if someone from the other team accidentally ran into a missed shot fifteen times. Nobody would even blink. But if the ball came from his hands... well then people would start asking questions.
"Are you jealous?"
No. A lie. Jamil is jealous of the air you breathe for its closeness to your lips, and this sniveling Nobel Bell brat can actually speak. Not that he knows exactly what he is asking for, but Jamil has an active imagination. And feet, he somehow seems to be stalking his way towards you even though none of what is happening is any of his business.
"Are you dating?"
Why would I want that? I've already got enough on my plate as is, I don't need a partner. Only true on the surface. Jamil has no idea why he wants you (Kalim assures him he doesn't need a reason but why would he want to listen to that advice) he just does. You make him feel a bunch of inconvenient and ridiculous things, he does not need a partner but he does want one.
"Um... I was wondering..." Seven the kid was pathetic from across the court but now that he was actually here he is even worse. Jamil is surprised he hasn't fainted yet. "I was wondering... um if you wouldn't mind could I get your number?" He seems genuinely hopeful and Jamil has got to look just as genuinely disgusted with how far back the kid jumps.
"I'm sorry..." you turn him down so gently it hurts (for Jamil, not the kid, he wants to see the little bitch run away crying) "You've been very nice I'm just not interested right now." You let out a relived sigh as the kid walks away normally as Jamil considers talking to and is not given a chance to think better of it before you turn around. "Oh hey Jamil." Why do you have to look so happy to see him? It hurts. "Sorry you had to see that, I was just trying to turn in the team registratio-"
"Do you find that attractive?" You both look shocked Jamil even asked that, but now that he has, he finds that he is too stubborn to back down.
"No?" And then with a bit more certainty you add. "No. No I think I would like someone with a bit more... mindful" You say with an admiral degree of confidence for someone who is no longer looking him in the eyes.
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