#Los Angeles Country Club | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

killerlookz · 5 months ago

Text

You and Your Friend | Joost Klein, Ski Aggu

description: joost klein x f! reader, ski aggu x f! reader- Upon seeing each other for the first time in a year after a hook-up, lingering tension remains between you and Joost, leaving his friend Aggu to decide to play matchmaker for you two in a rather unusual way.

content: 18+ smut, mdni, threesome, unprotected PiV, cream pie, oral (both m! and f! receiving) spitroasting?? i think that's what its called, a little orgasm denial, f!overstim, a tinge of jealousy (less than I originally planned cos its been a min since i wrote something without angst lol), drinking, aggu being a complete sneaky little bastard/kind of convoluted plot bc of it, mentioned that reader has moved to LA but no nationality or country of origin is assigned to them. not super proofread

THIS FIC CONTAINS RPF AND HAS BEEN TAGGED AS SUCH... IF THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE DO NOT INTERACT, PLEASE BLOCK THE RPF TAG AND MOVE ON. DO NOT SHARE MY WORK ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIAS OUTSIDE OF TUMBLR EITHER IN SCREENSHOTS OR IN ITS ENTIRETY.

word count: 9095

The bitter taste of liquor drips down your throat, an uncomfortable warmth invading your abdomen as the liquid reaches your stomach. Your muscles tense, your eyes forcing shut, an involuntary twitch trembling through your nerves. With a groan of disgust you slam the shot glass down on the marble counter in front of you, your eyes finally opening as you do so.

Music thumps around you, pouring from expensive speakers throughout the impressive expanse of the house you currently stood in. Party-goers intoxicated on the finest substances money could buy surrounded you, their loud voices almost rivaling the music.

Since moving to Los Angeles parties like this had become your thing, mansions in the hills that you could't dream of affording had practically become your second home. Vague connections with the music industry, and being a friend, of a friend, of a friend had managed to get you in just about anywhere. You were working your way up to becoming a well-known socialite, minus the usual rich parents and nepotism.

Parties like this were usually your thing, making drunken connections and inching your way up the city's social totem pole, all while having the time of your life. Today seemed different, the liquor wasn't hitting you the same, the music didn't sound right, and engaging in conversation felt like a chore. Being fresh-faced and hot in Los Angeles, you had become far too used to the world being yours, but not tonight. Tonight the one thing you wanted was too far out of your reach.

Last year one of your friends suggesting a surprise vacation had landed you in Berlin, and a night of clubbing had landed you in bed with a particular Dutch musician. His name was Joost, relatively unknown outside of the Netherlands at the time, he and a friend who called himself Ski Aggu had been out celebrating having a number one hit in Germany. It felt like fate that he had ended up at the same club where you had been, and it didn't take much for him to charm your clothes off. Both he and Aggu were far different than the musicians you had met in the states. Confident, but not full of themselves like you had been used to, both men had actually given you the time of day, they were interested in you beyond what you could do for them sexually. Truth be told you would have been happy to go home with either of them that night, and you wondered if Aggu had been the one to take you to bed if you would even be in the predicament you were in now.

You and Joost had kept vague contact since the night you hooked up, how could you not? He was an exceptional lay, fucking you like the two of you were long lost lovers, making you cum over and over until you collapsed into a whimpering mess in his arms. It felt far too sweet for a one-night stand, and, perhaps stupidly you had thought there was something more there. Hence, your lingered contact, an occasional text here and there to catch up on how things had been, a phone call on an even rarer occasion.

You hadn't exactly expected him to blow up in the way that he did in the year since you last saw him, a spot competing on Eurovision, and a subsequent disqualification put fame right at his finger tips. Still, even with his newfound success, and much less "low-key" life, which had resulted in your contact with him reaching a screeching halt, you still refused to believe that you were nothing more than a one-night stand. That fact alone had made tonight just about impossible for you. Never in a million years had you expected Joost to be in the States, let alone one of these parties, this was your territory. But, there was no denying that was the case as you tried your hardest to prevent your gaze from wandering across the room towards where you knew he had been standing. You tried your hardest to rack your brain on who he could have known here, but after his stint as a Eurovision contestant, you shouldn't be so surprised, sure he now had connections far wider than you could imagine. Though, you found it charming how he still traveled with that same group of friends he had when you met him in that tiny club in Berlin. And certainly seeing Joost again would be a much more charming experience if he had actually bothered to glance your way at least once tonight. But you had no such luck.

Leaving your empty shot glass on the marble countertop, you decide to drag yourself off to another part of the home, somewhere where it isn't so crowded, where you can have some space to think, to breathe. Usually on nights like tonight, ironically enough thinking was the last thing on your mind, but now, you had felt like you needed somewhere to escape to where you could hear your own thoughts. Maybe then, in the comfortability of your the presence of nobody else but yourself could you once again bring out that messy party girl who was screaming to be let out of you.

An empty bedroom had become the perfect place for you to wallow in your self-pity for the time being. The music still thumped in your ears, albeit more muffled now, and the voices of party goers were nothing but a dull hum. You let yourself fall onto the large bed, your body hitting the thick, surely all-too-expensive comforter. You stare at the ceiling, contemplating your next move, never in your life had you felt like this when it came to a guy. Never had you let yourself second guess whether you were worth a man's time, of course you were worth it. But with Joost, you couldn't help but lose the self-assurance you always had, for once, you found yourself actually caring about what someone else thought of you. Your stomach churned at the thought, getting all self-conscious over a guy you barely knew was surely a major blow to your I don't give a fuck reputation. For the first time since you had moved to Los Angeles, you had been humbled.

"Oh, shit." A vaguely familiar chuckle travels from where you think the door to the bedroom is. The accent in the voice is apparent, even in those two short words, enough for you to be almost-certain of who now occupies the bedroom with you. Almost-certain isn't enough, however, and straining slight due to your tipsy nature you sit up from where your back rests against the bed.

Your suspicions are immediately confirmed upon getting a glimpse at the other person in the room.

"Aggu!" You grit your teeth, attempting a smile, and immediately you regret your decision to address him by name, positive he had probably completely forgotten who you are. You cross your legs and sit up straight.

Aggu smiles back, leaning against the door frame,

"Am I interrupting something?" He asks, a little confused, but amusement still written all over his face. "Waiting for Joost?" He laughs. He did remember you.

"Joost?" You scoff, trying your hardest to pretend that the idea of you wanting anything to do with Joost was ridiculous, "No." You shake your head, hopefully hiding your bitterness behind a polite smile, "I didn't even know he was here."

Aggu smirks, forcing a tension into the room. Watching as his lips curl your jaw clenches, your fingers digging into the thick fabric of the comforter.

"Blödsinn." (nonsense) His tone is disapproving as his arms cross, you don't understand a what he says, not that you can concentrate much on whatever comes out of his mouth with the way his bicep muscles strain against the tight fabric of his t-shirt. You wonder briefly if he has always been this fit, if you had been too busy drooling over Joost last time you saw him to realize.

"Sorry," Aggu chuckles, clocking your lack of comprehension, "I mean to say you're full of shit."

"What," Your eyes widen, muscles tensing, "No, I'm not." You're instantly defensive, which you're sure gives yourself away entirely.

"I have working eyes under those ski goggles" He uncrosses an arms, pressing a finger under his eye, tapping twice. There's an odd sweetness about his condescension towards you, like he's slowly, wordlessly beginning to understand your situation.

"Hm?" You hum, barely loud enough for him to hear, your eyebrows furrow for a moment- right, your face returns to a more relaxed expression, you had forgotten about his ski goggle shtick, and perhaps you could consider yourself lucky for the only two times you had seen him in person had been without his goggles.

"Unless it's me you've been oggling all night." You and him both know that isn't true, you can tell in the way he speaks, it's more of a suggestion. You shrug, letting a sheepish look fall on your face in pretend innocence.

"Joost and I... only hooked up that one time," You say, your voice indicating you had little regard for the situation, perhaps you weren't such a bad liar after all, "But maybe I wish it was you who I had gone home with instead." At least that wasn't entirely a lie, at least even now Aggu seemed willing to give you the time of day, even if he had only stumbled into you on accident.

You let your eyes widen, suddenly looking up at Aggu from your spot on the bed through batted lashes, a pout forming on your well-glossed lips, and there she was, that messy party girl inside of you, finally crawling her way out. Slowly, you uncross your legs, letting your thighs part slightly, though not quite enough to get a glimpse of anything up your skirt.

"Ja?" Aggu's eyebrows raise as he slowly lifts himself from against the door frame, walking towards you. "Guess you don't feel the same about that night as Joost does then."

"What do you mean?" The words fall from your lips before your brain can even catch up, and she's gone, the simple sentence knocking you down once again. Had Joost actually enjoyed that night as much as you did?

"Joost isn't the type to kiss and tell." His arms crossing again, he's much closer to you now, "But after a night like that I think he had to."

"A night like..." You're suddenly worried about what Aggu had heard about that night, trying to remember if anything particularly crazy happened, nothing stood out, though maybe you and him did not have the same threshold for what would be considered "crazy."

"Don't want to say too much," He trails off for a moment, letting his mouth once again curl into a smirk, "Just something about the best sex of his life."

Your entire body is hot, burning, the best sex of his life? You could say the same, and the expression that forms on your face threatens to let Aggu know as much.

"Yeah?" You let a smirk settle on your face, your confidence finding you once more, "Can't say he's the first I've heard that from."

"So, you're really not waiting for Joost up here? No plans to relive that night?" Aggu asks, like he didn't believe you the first time you said so. You simply shake your head in response. "A shame for him then." Aggu says matter-of-factly, "Not interested in topping your performance from last time?"

"I'm afraid he's the one who isn't interested." Your vulnerability surprises you, but you cannot say your intentions are entirely pure, thinking if you told the truth, that his best friend didn't seem to be interested, your chances with Aggu would increase tonight. If you can't have one, why wait around and deny yourself of the other?

Aggu shakes his head, "You sound certain."

"Believe me," You sigh, "I've got the memo, no response from him in weeks and he hasn't even looked at me since he got here, I'm certain."

"Maybe I wouldn't be so sure," He teases, "Jealousy is an excellent motivator,"

"Jealousy?" You perk up, interested, immediately picking up what he was putting down.

Aggu nods slowly, "And if it doesn't end up as a motivator, I'm sure we'll have a good time either way." He seems so much taller now that he stands right in front of you, lustful eyes staring down at your spot on the bed, "I get my best friend laid, I get laid, and you get laid, looks like we all win."

And why have one or the other when you could have both?

"Right," You murmur, choked in the moment, "Winners." Your luck had suddenly turned, the prospect of what was in store for you tonight makes your muscles tense, your thighs squeezing together, forced shut from their parted position.

Aggu's hand slips to your chin, his thumb pressing against your lips, you're like putty in his hands the moment he touches you.

"Ah," He smiles, noticing the way you melt under him, "You weren't lying when you said you wanted me to take you home."

"Not at all," You breathe out, your muscles relaxing, allowing yourself to enjoy the warmth of Aggu's touch. You lean into his hand, and pucker your lips, pressing a kiss to his thumb. Aggu drags his finger against your bottom lip, pulling it down and forcing your mouth into a pout,

"C'mon," He urges, "Let's go downstairs before we take things too far."

You nod, staring up at Aggu silently, waiting for him to help you up. He does so quickly, reaching a firm hand out for you to grab.

The music becomes more apparent as Aggu leads you out into the hallway, even more so as you head back down the stairs to where the bulk of the party-goers reside.

It's almost embarrassing how quickly you're able to spot Joost, though not fully allowing yourself to wallow in the shame of how desperate you were for him, you chalked it up to him not having moved too far from the last place you had seen him.

Joost doesn't seem to notice you and Aggu, however, as the pair of you step in the room, your hand still in his.

Sparked with an idea, you rip your hand from Aggu's, instead turning toward him. You ruffle your hand through your hair, before lowering your fingers to your lips, swiping a thumb hard enough to just barely smudge the color that stains them. Lowering your hands even farther you slip one of the straps of your top down, letting it hang off your shoulder.

"What's that for?" Aggu asks over the music.

"Giving myself the I just had sex look."

Aggu snakes a hand onto your waist, "Maybe I should have just fucked you upstairs then."

His straightforwardness knocks the breath from you for a split moment,

"The time will come," You say sweetly, reaching a hand up to ruffle his hair, attempting to get him to match your mild state of disheveled.

Aggu's eyes flick towards Joost, who's sitting on a couch across the room with his friend Apson, who you remembered vaguely from last year.

"Why don't we go take a seat, hm, looks like there's room for only one more."

You bite your lip, ready to fully lean into the jealousy act.

With his arm around your waist Aggu walks you over to where Joost had been sitting, still even with the assurance of someone who knew actually knew Joost leading you, you can't seem to quell the small pang of anxiety that rings somewhere deep inside you.

Finally it seems Joost takes his first good look at you tonight, a look of amusement on his face as he sees you walking over with Aggu.

"Where have you been, man?" Joost laughs, averting his gaze from you, speaking solely to Aggu.

"Around," Aggu responds flippantly, "Hey, you remember y/n, right?" His grip tightening around your waist, "You two met last year." With his free hand Aggu points between the two of you.

Joost's eyes widen, clearly unsure of what game Aggu was getting at here,

"Ja- uh ja," Joost clears his throat, his eyes quickly darting to you, "Nice to see you again." He nods, an uncomfortable smile pressed to his lips.

"You too," You respond cautiously, feigning disinterest, only a polite grin gracing your lips.

Aggu takes a seat next to Joost before grabbing your hand,

"C'mon sit down," He urges, pulling you onto his lap. After you're settled on his lap Aggu turns towards Apson, "Hey, Appie you remember y/n too right?"

A large grin forms on Apson's lips, a chuckle threatening to spill from his mouth,

"Ja, oh I remember." You watch as Apson gently judges Joost, his elbow poking at Joost's ribcage. You suppress a smirk as you realize how far news of you and Joost's hookup had spread in his friend group. Joost sends Apson a quick glance, one that says knock it off, but it doesn't tame the smile on his face.

"So," Joost speaks quickly to avert the topic from Apson's recollection of the night you and Joost had hooked up, "How have you been?"

You nod, humming pleasantly, "Good," you pause for a moment, racking your brain for what else to say, "Life's been, fun. How about you, things seem interesting in your world."

"Interesting is-eh, definitely a correct word to describe it." He agrees, "I'm grateful though, you know, with everything, it's cool."

"Absolutely," You lean back on Aggu, letting your back rest on his chest, letting your ass settle in his lap, "You must be tired from everything, no?"

Joost shakes his head, "Overwhelming a little," He pauses, "But not tired, I have good stamina." Oh he sure did, that you knew for sure.

"I see Aggu has been busy too," You pull the conversation away from Joost, "You have a new album coming out soon, right? Oh what's it called again?" You ask, turning your head down towards Aggu, placing a hand onto his chest.

"Wilmersdofrs Kind," Aggu smiles, a hand sneaking its way around your front and onto your thigh.

"Ah, and what does that mean?"

"Wilmersdorf's Child." He answers, "You know, Wilmersdorf, is an area of Berlin, maybe next time you're in Germany I could show you around." His grip tightens on his thigh.

"Oh Aggu," You gush, "You are such a sweetheart. I'd love for you to take me sightseeing." Normally, acting like this towards someone you barely knew would make your stomach churn, but the way you notice Joost clenching his jaw when you flick your eyes in his direction makes all the over-the-top flintiness worth it. Besides, it wasn't like it was a challenge to flirt with a man as good looking as him.

"Speaking of traveling," Joost pipes up, "Have you ever been to the Netherlands?"

The muscles of your mouth pull upwards, funny how eager Joost seemed to talk to you now that you were sitting on Aggu's lap, the pair of you flirting aggressively.

You shake your head, "No, never." Keeping your responses short, you don't want to give him too much too soon.

"Have you ever thought about coming to the Netherlands?"

"Depends," You bite your lip, "Do I get to have you as my tour guide? Or are you too busy for me now, Mr. Eurovision." You tease.

"Never too busy, If Aggu doesn't mind me co-opting his tour guide position." Joost shoots Aggu a glance, the pair of them communicating silently, though you cannot quite read either of their expressions.

"Never too busy?" You ask, "Could have fooled me."

"Y/n," Aggu lightly scolds, gripping your thigh

"Um," Apson speaks all of a sudden, "I think I'm going to go-uh- over there, I think Alanis was calling my name." Apson loosely points in a random direction, one where Alanis certainly is not standing. But without another word he's hurrying off the couch. The three of you watch as he scurries off into the direction he pointed in before returning to the conversation.

"What?" Joost furrows his eyebrows, and in an instant you're ready to abandon the whole jealousy act now that you have an opportunity to let Joost know exactly how you had been feeling. But Aggu's fingers gripping into the flesh of your thigh make you think twice, perhaps letting your frustrations out right now would further harm your chances of the night ending the way you want.

"Nothing," You purse your lips, "Just seem like you have a lot on your plate."

"I don't mind making time for you, if that's what you want." And all of a sudden your mouth goes dry and you're not so sure you're talking about traveling anymore.

"Yeah," Aggu interjects, "I'm sure she'd like that," His hand traveling closer to your inner thigh, forcing your body to tense up, "And, I don't mind sharing my position as tour guide." I don't mind sharing are not exactly the words you want to hear out of Aggu's mouth, after all the entire point of this was to make Joost jealous. But you trusted Aggu to read Joost better than you could, even if it did disappoint you how quickly he loosened up on the jealousy act.

"Joost," Aggu speaks again, "Why don't you move over so y/n can actually have a seat."

"Oh," Joost whips his head around to look behind him, realizing with Apson's absence the seat next to him is open. "Ja, sure."

You turn towards Aggu, confused, but all he responds with his cocking his head in the direction of the now empty seat between him and Joost.

Admittedly, a little disappointed, you lift yourself off of Aggu's lap, settling onto the couch. Still, Aggu's hand immediately returns to your thigh.

You're suddenly very aware of yourself, your position between Aggu and Joost, and you wonder if this had been the plan the whole time, if Aggu had intentionally wandered off upstairs in search of you, if he even had any intentions of trying to make Joost jealous in the first place. Had they planned to share you this entire time, from the second they laid their eyes on you tonight?

The thought has you sucking in a sharp breath, one that clearly concerns the both of them,

"You okay?" Aggu asks, caressing your thigh.

"Yeah," You assure, nodding, more than okay, but you decide to pounce on this opportunity to get the two of them away from the crowd, "It's just kind of loud, do you think we can continue this conversation upstairs?"

Joost and Aggu share knowing glances, "Of course," Joost affirms.

You're back in that bedroom, those four walls suddenly feeling familiar as you find yourself back on the bed once more.

"Aggu, can you close the door? It's still kind of loud..."

Aggu, having just barely walked in the room obliges, shutting the door behind him as he passed through the doorway.

Your body tenses at the sudden realization of you being alone with Aggu and Joost, unsure of how to take this where you want it to go. But as your eyes flick between the two of them a familiar feeling sinks in you, the world is yours once again. You settle into your spot on the bed, feeling a little bad for whoever this bedroom actually belonged to. You lean back, propping yourself up with your forearms, your legs still hanging off the bed.

"Are you two just going to stand there?" You giggle, a little surprised that both of them seemed to be frozen in place. Joost looks around, unsure of himself, his line of sight meeting Aggu as he turns to the side.

Aggu cocks his head towards you, "You first," He smirks in response to Joost's uncertainty, "Show her how bad you want her." Want you?

"Yeah," You catch your bottom lip in your teeth, "Come show me." You let your eyes settle on Joost. He seems so much taller than usual as he walks towards where you rest on the bed. You can't help but part your legs almost instinctively, allowing him to stand between them once he gets close enough.

You await his next move as you stare up at him through your lashes. Joost quickly looks back at Aggu once more, motioning with his head for him to come closer,

"Sit behind her, so she can lay on you." It felt a little strange to be talked about in the third person, but it only affirmed that tonight was about you, both of them there for no other reason than to please you.

Aggu agrees, making his way to the bed, sitting behind you, resting on his knees, positioning himself so one leg is on either side of you. His hands are familiar as they find themselves on your torso,

"C'mon," Aggu urges, "You can lay back, Hasi." (bunny)

You let Aggu prop you up with his body, no longer relying on your forearms for support, you're more upright now. Aggu's breath is hot against your neck, the tickling sensation sending shockwaves through your nerves, forcing a twitch from you.

"She's so sensitive," Aggu chuckles, noticing the way you squirm from nothing but his breath grazing your flesh.

"Don't I know it," Joost smiles, clearly remembering this wasn't the first time you had found yourself in such a position with him. Joost reaches a hand forward to hold your chin between his fingers.

"Lay back a little more," He says, a request to both you and Aggu, one to which you both oblige, letting your body slip down further as Aggu adjust's his position. "Good," Joost smiles before patting your thigh with his free hand, "Now bend your legs for me, schatje." The nickname makes your heart skip a beat, recalling his past use of the word. You oblige without a word, kicking off your heels and pulling your legs from where they hang off of the bed, shuffling further back against Aggu so you have enough room.

Your skirt slides up your thighs as you bend your legs, knees now pointing upward. Joost removes his hand from your chin, sinking down to his knees in front of you, his eyes more at level with your crotch now than with your face. It's nothing he hasn't seen before, but it had been so long, you're left feeling exposed, especially as the flimsy fabric of your lacey thong left very little to the imagination.

A content smirk rests on Joost's face as he slides a hand up from your ankle to your calf, taking his time to caress your skin. As Joost slowly teases the lower half of your body, Aggu takes it upon himself to work on your upper body, his hands sliding to the bottom hem of your shirt.

"Arms up," He simply says, and no questions asked, your arms are in the air, allowing Aggu to pull your top over your head. Your back briefly parts from his chest to allow him to fully take your top off, discarding it somewhere on the bed. Your decision to forgo a bra tonight only leaves you even more exposed.

Joost's averts his eyes from your inner thighs, a look of content settling on his face,

"Missed seeing this pretty body," His hands slip up higher on your legs, "Imagination could only get me so far."

The implications of Joost's statement makes your head spin, he had been thinking of you, just as you had been thinking of him.

"Isn't she pretty?" Joost prompts Aggu,

Aggu hums in response, though it comes out more like a low growl as his lips near your neck, "Absolutely gorgeous."

Sitting up a little higher on his knees, Joost begins to press small kisses to your legs, beginning just above your ankle, up to your knee. Each tiny peck against your skin increases the tightness that builds in your abdomen, desperate to feel Joost against your heat as his head inches closer, and closer.

By the time Joost reaches your inner thigh, his small pecks have turned into sloppy, generous kisses, using his tongue more than he was his lips. Aggu made similar work of your neck, nipping at your flesh with his teeth before carefully soothing each bite with his tongue, finishing off each blooming red blemish with a prolonged kiss.

Only a few minutes into this ordeal and you were already a mess, squirming and whimpering before either man had properly touched you.

You feel Joost's hands on your outer thighs, pushing your skirt up to your hips. Your panties or what little of them there is are on full display, Joost's tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his soft pink lips at the sight.

A hand falls from where it rests at the hem of your skirt, lightly grazing your fabric-clad crotch, causing you to suck in a gasp. Joost chuckles at your reaction, his hand returning to the thin lace. Joost presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing slightly through your panties. The sensation is barely stifled by the fabric, his circular motions sending jolts through your entire body, each action only making you crave him more.

With each gentle rub you feel your arousal growing, the tight lace pressed against your hole growing damper by the second. You buck your hips forward, desperate to feel more of Joost.

"So impatient," He clicks his tongue.

"I think a year is long enough for me to wait," You sigh.

"What do you think Aggu?" The mention of his name has Aggu pulling away from your neck, "Should we make her wait any longer?"

"Nhn-nhn," Aggu's chin bumps against your cheek as he shakes his head in disagreement, "Give her what she wants." A breath of relief exits your lungs at Aggu's words, "I want to hear how pretty she sounds as you fuck her on your tongue."

"Can't argue with that," The pads of Joost's fingers finding their way to the crotch of your panties, swiftly pulling them to the side. The air that surrounds you is cold against your wetness, forcing you to clench around nothing. "Relax," Joost mumbles, "It's just me," head creeping forward toward your inner thighs.

A sudden kiss against your clit forces a sharp breath down your throat. Joost continues to tease with small kisses until his tongue flattens against you, licking through your soaked folds, the action completed by his lips capturing your swollen bud, lightly sucking.

His tongue was just as perfect as you had remembered it being, immediately forcing you to buck your hips forward to feel more of him. Joost is able to read your cues, pressing his tongue harder against you, his movements becoming more forceful as he continues to lick at your folds.

In the meantime, Aggu had returned his lips to your neck, continuing his pattern of biting and sucking. The sensation of both his and Joost's mouths working on such sensitive parts of your body is enough to make you worry about cumming entirely too prematurely.

Aggu's hands make their way around to your front, his large palms groping at your breasts, squeezing at the supple flesh. While one hand continues to palm at your tits, the other pinches the hardened surface of your nipple between his fingers. The feeling forces you to arch your back, pushing you further onto Joost's tongue. A strangled squeak is all that can escape your throat in response.

Joost's tongue laps at your slit with all the intent to bring you to orgasm as quick as possible, eager to give you just exactly what you want. But you're determined to make this moment last as long as possible, unsure of when the next time you would have the pleasure of being with two men such as Joost and Aggu at once would even be.

Still, your desperation to deny your orgasm for as long as you can, doesn't stop the way your legs shake under Joost's touch. His tongue so skillfully applying the perfect amount of pressure to where you need him most.

Joost momentarily stops his careful licks to fully press his mouth to you, once again letting his lips surround your clit, first softly kissing, then sucking at the sensitive nerves. Your hands find themselves tangled in Joost's hair, dancing between pulling at the strands, and pushing his head further down on you, begging him to apply even more pressure.

Joost presses his tongue to you once again, licking down to your aching hole, first teasing around it before dipping in. You groan at the sensation, hips bucking as you fuck yourself on Joost's tongue.

Aggu takes advantage of how low Joost's mouth is on you now, a hand trailing from your breast down to your mound. Careful to not get in Joost's way, he places a single finger to your clit, rubbing soft circles.

You cannot believe the pleasure you're feeling, unlike anything you had experienced before. Both Aggu and Joost seemed exceptionally skilled at what they were doing, as if they had known your body forever, knowing exactly what to do to push you closer and closer to the edge.

It's almost a struggle to keep your legs open, the only thing keeping your thighs parted was Joost's head between them. You don't know how much longer you can hold out, not with the way your entire body trembles with pleasure, both Joost and Aggu trying their absolute hardest to reach that state of bliss.

"You close, sweetie?" Aggu mumbles against your neck, the vibrations from his vocal cords sending shivers down your spine. You don't really even have to respond, not with the way your unrelenting moans speak for you. "It's okay, you can let go baby, I'm sure Joost would love to feel you cum against his tongue."

Aggu's words conflict you, wanting to cum for Joost's sake, but wanting to hold out for your own. Your eyes screw shut, knowing you won't be able to hold off much more.

Aggu's once-soft circles against your clit soon speed up, becoming rougher, all but begging you to cum for him and Joost. Your body is so tight, your pussy clenching around the warmth of Joost's tongue, with a final whimper you're sent over the edge, squirming in Aggu's gentle grasp as you reach your high.

"That's right," Aggu mumbles, sensing your orgasm, your body trembling above him. You cannot control the sounds that escape you, they're dirty, like something straight from a porn, except for you they were real, one hundred percent the result of Joost and Aggu's touch.

Your twitching begins to slow as your orgasm rolls over you, your breathing becoming labored, head falling back against Aggu's shoulder. Your legs quickly fall from their bent position, hanging off the bed once more when Joost finally removes his head from between your thighs.

Joost's glasses are fogged, and the most content look is pressed against his lips, which glisten from your release. His tongue glides over his glossy lips, before pulling in with a happy hum,

"Just as good as I remembered."

You need a moment, unable to speak as you catch your breath, slumped against Aggu's chest.

"Don't tell me you're tired out already," Aggu chastises.

"No," You sigh, your chest rising and falling rapidly, "Just need to catch my breath."

"Oh," Aggu whines, almost mocking, "Can you catch your breath while you get on your hands and knees for me, schatz."

You nod quickly, lifting yourself from Aggu's chest and rolling over, plopping stomach first on to the comforter. The mattress dips slightly as Aggu shifts positions before getting off the bed to stand behind you.

"C'mon," Aggu taps your ass, "You can get up."

Slowly, you rise up from your position laying flat on the bed, resting on your forearms you get onto your knees, arching your back, forcing your ass into the air.

"Good," Aggu muses, his hand smoothing over your ass, allowing himself a moment to ogle at the sight in front of him.

The mattress dips again, the movement drawing your curiosity, raising your head. Joost now shared the bed with you, shuffling to sit in front of you on his knees.

"Think you can take us both?" Aggu asks, the sound of metal snapping behind you, which you recognize as a belt buckle unclasping.

You swallow, head trailing up to look at Joost, his hands reaching for the buckle of his own belt. You blink a few times, processing the thought, both of them at once.

"It's just a simple yes or no schatje," Joost removes one hand from his belt to place his palm to the top of your head, lazily petting down your hair and to your cheek. You lean into his touch, nodding,

"Mhm," You hum, "Please." You arch your back a little more, head slipping down, leaving Joost's grasp.

Joost's eyes leave yours, flicking to where you presume Aggu is, giving him a nod.

"Okay," Aggu sighs, his hand settling at your waist, "Let Joost start first."

You continue to stare at Joost through heavy lashes, watching as his hands play with the large metal buckle of his belt. You bite the insides of your cheeks at the prospect of what's to come, Joost's fingers slowly slipping into the waistband of his jeans, then his boxers, pulling them down at the same time.

Your breathing loses its pace for a split moment as Joost's cock springs free from the confines of his clothing. He grips the base, palm slowly sliding up its length until he reaches the tip, his thumb circling the slit, spreading the small clear pearl of pre-cum around the soft pink flesh.

"Up on your hands, a little higher," Joost says, your current position so low on the bed making what he wanted to do impossible. Eager to take him in your mouth, you straighten your arms, resting the weight of the front half of your body in your palms. "Perfect," He mumbles, hips rocking forward until the tip of his cock reaches your lips.

You let your tongue slip forward, just barely parting your lips, licking the slit ever-so-slightly, gathering the salty taste of pre-cum in your mouth.

"Come on," Joost says sweetly, "Open those pretty lips," Guiding his cock with his hand on the shaft, he drags the tip over your lips, urging you to open up. You have no desire to tease him, simply lowering your jaw to take him into your mouth.

You let your lips capture the tip, sucking slightly, immediately making Joost groan before you've even taken him all the way in. His hips buck forward, pushing himself further into the warmth of your mouth. As he pushes into you, you point your tongue upward, licking a stripe against the vein that runs down the bottom of his cock.

He doesn't push all the way into you, stopping about three-fourths of the length of his cock before rocking his hips backward, pulling out of your mouth.

At the same time, Aggu's hands find themselves at the waistband of your skirt, slowly pulling it down to your mid thighs, your panties following shortly after.

Aggu mumbles something in German, but from the tone of his voice, you can assume whatever he had to say was good. His palms find there way to the back of your thighs, both his thumbs pressing against your cunt. The feeling of Aggu touching your already sensitive pussy causes you to whimper, sending vibrations down the length of Joost's cock as he pushes himself back into your mouth, making him mutter.

Using his thumbs Aggu spreads your folds, then running a single thumb through your arousal, teasing slightly. As his thumb just barely hovers over your entrance you instinctively rock back, wanting to feel him inside you.

"Joost was right, you are impatient." He teases, "Lucky for you, I can't wait any longer."

You're unable to respond, not as the most of the length of Joost's cock is down your mouth, tip teasing your throat. Both Joost and Aggu at once already felt all to overwhelming, and Aggu wasn't even inside of you yet.

You jolt forward once you feel the tip of Aggu's dick, slip through your folds, gathering your wetness. Your sharp movement forward forcing Joost further down your throat, causing you to gag and quickly pull back.

"Careful," Joost warns, "Don't need to take so much." Despite the dirty situation you're in, Joost's caution to keep you comfortable is oddly heartwarming, only urging you to want to pleasure him further.

With no warning from Aggu, he pushes into you, causing you to once again moan around Joost.

"Fuck," Aggu mumbles, already seeming content, with just the tip inside of you. With a strong grip on your waist, feeling like his fingers are about to bruise your soft skin, Aggu continues to push his hips forward, slowly allowing you to take him. Your eyes shut tight as you stretch around his length, your fingers gripping the comforter at the initial sensation.

Both you and Aggu let out a deep breath as he bottoms out into you, having finally adjusted to him. Just as slow as he pushed into you, Aggu rocks his hips back, pulling out, allowing you to feel all of him against your walls.

Aggu groans, "So good," He sighs, "Already is perfect, sweetie." He thrusts into you again, a little harsher this time now that you've adjusted to him. His thrusts push you further onto Joost's cock as he's attempting to pull out of you, causing Joost to pause for a moment, allowing each of their paces to adjust to match each other, so they aren't playing an awkward game of tug-of-war with your body.

After a few strokes each of them are able to synchronize with each other, both of them fucking into you, and pulling out at the same time.

Your knees are already weak, your wrists sore from the position you're holding yourself in. Every single sensation feels all too overwhelming, you could just collapse right then and there, into a trembling mess on the bed. Though you won't give up so easily, needing at the very least to be fucked by Joost too, no matter how bad you'll be squirming and whimpering under him.

Joost soon begins to lose pace with Aggu, his breathing becoming more present, his heaves in and out filling the room. You're sure he's going to be finishing down your throat any second, but in a move that surprises you, he entirely pulls out of your mouth with a final groan. The action forces you to look up at him, wondering why he had decided to stop. His lips are parted, glasses slipping down his nose as he looks down at you, you can see his eyes full of lust even through thick lenses.

You pout slightly, your gaze being enough of a question to prompt an answer from Joost,

"Focus on Aggu, liefje," He urges, chin cocking upward in Aggu's direction, "Didn't want to spoil my turn with you." His mouth quirks up in a smirk. Lazily, you nod, unable to even really think about that now, not as Aggu slams into you at a now more vigorous pace,

"Might get that turn soon," Aggu grunts, his tone indicating a clenched jaw and gritted teeth. The sound of Joost's breathing escapes your ears, now only able to focus on the filthy noises Aggu's movements produce. The sounds of your slick coating Aggu's cock with each thrust, the smacking of his hips to your ass, his low grunts and your strangled moans, it makes the booming music from downstairs sound like nothing more than a dull whisper.

Joost looks down at the two of you in amusement,

"You're so good," He beams, "She's good isn't she?" His question pointed towards Aggu

"Fucking perfect," He agrees, "So wet and warm," His palms tighten on your waist, "Pussy squeezing me just right."

You're drunk on their simple praises, and as Aggu's newfound grip on you only pulls you further back onto his cock, you're unsure of how much longer you'll be able to hold off. With each forward thrust Aggu hits the perfect spot inside of you, fucking you like he knew your body intimately.

"Aggu," You sigh, "I think-"

"Uh-uh." Aggu tuts, cutting you off, "You can't"

His small command is enough to almost bring tears to your eyes, unsure you could control your impending orgasm at all.

"I'm sure Joost would much prefer if you'd make a mess on him instead," Aggu coos, "Think about that, baby, could you hold on for him?"

You can't make any promises, but an unsteady hum of agreement leaves your lips, your fingers digging so hard into the comforter they ache.

"Don't worry," He breathes, "I'm almost there." The slaps of his thighs against yours losing a rhythm, his strokes becoming long and lazy. You're almost there too, and as you clench your jaw and shut your eyes you can only hope that he finishes quick enough that you don't have enough time to reach your orgasm.

And in almost an instant your wish is granted, Aggu reaching his orgasm with a drawn out groan. He stops thrusting, keeping himself bottomed out in you, his hips pressed right against your ass as he finishes into you, warm ropes of cum coating your walls. He can't keep his balance much longer, nearly folding over on top of you as his chest rises and falls against your back.

Your pussy clenches around him, aching at the now lack of stimulation. Aggu steadies himself, placing his hands on either side of you to relieve some of the weight on your back. As Aggu regains his composure he places small, slow kisses to your shoulders, before slowly lifting him self up.

You whimper as Aggu slowly pulls out of you, feeling his release drip down your folds.

"All yours," Aggu lets out a low chuckle, "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone once I catch my breath."

Lovebirds didn't exactly seem like an apt word for you and Joost now, but still the phrase brings a slight warmth to your cheeks.

Joost chuckles back, his palm finding your cheek,

"You need a minute?" He rubs soft circles to your lips with his thumb.

"N-no," You stutter out, truthfully, needing him as soon as possible. Despite Aggu stopping, you know the second Joost touches you'll be close again once more, and you're desperate for your orgasm.

"Okay" He whispers, "Get on your back, liefje. Lay against the pillows."

You let out a sigh of relief at Joost's preferred position, at least letting you relax into the bed. Your legs slightly confined by your clothing still pulled at your thighs, you slowly crawl up the bed, turning over to lean against the thick, surely unnecessarily expensive pillows.

You return your vision to Aggu once more who's slipping his belt back through the loops on his jeans, then ruffling a hand through his hair, his composure mostly regained by now. A large grin spreads against his face, "Enjoy your night." He winks towards the two of you, leaving the room.

"Is that Aggu's idea of playing matchmaker?" You let out a tiny laugh. Joost chuckles in return, furrowing his eyebrows,

"Yeah- I-uh think so. Is there a match here to be made?" Joost moves closer to you, a hand pressed against your thigh. His words make you tense,

"I don't know," You sigh, "Was pretty mean of you to ignore me when you got here tonight." You're half teasing, half serious.

"Ignore you?" He asks, an eyebrow raising.

You let your lip fall in an exaggerated pout, nodding.

"Oh," He whines, almost mockingly, "I'm sorry," He shakes his head, "I didn't hurt your feelings." His hand raises higher up your thigh, "Arme meisje." (Poor girl)

His patronization is sweet in an odd sort of way, knowing that beneath his mocking exterior he is actually apologizing for ignoring you.

"Let me make it up to you now, hm?"

"I'd like that." You breathe out, settling further onto the pillows.

Joost smirks, "I'll do that then," His hands finding the waistband of both your skirt and panties, slipping them down the rest of the length of your legs. Once the remainder of your clothes are discarded, Joost works on his own, pulling the white graphic t-shirt he wears slipping over his head. He's just as gorgeous as you remember, wanting nothing more than to feel every inch of his soft flesh. You marvel at his half-naked body, littered with tiny tattoos.

"Come here," You whine, needing him closer.

Joost obliges, leaning forward to hover over you, his hands placed on either side of your body. You're close enough to kiss him now, and you want to, straining your neck to life your head up so your lips can meet his. Joost gets the memo, saving you the strain and lowering his head just enough until your lips touch. You forego small pecks, immediately engaging him in a passionate kiss, one that only riles you up further. You can just barely taste yourself on his tongue, causing you to groan into this kiss as you steady yourself with your hands to push forward and deepen it. His lips are soft against yours, it feels good, you wonder briefly if it would be possible for him to make you cum just by kissing you,

The two of your are already so worked up, wordlessly agreeing to skip the teasing and foreplay as Joost taps your knee, urging you to bend your legs for him. You agree, getting a small glimpse of how sore your muscles will be tomorrow as you move your legs.

Joost breaks the kiss to sit up and watch as he lines himself up with your entrance. He's positioned between your legs, resting on his knees, grabbing the base of his cock.

"Ready?" He sighs, the tip sliding through your folds, causing your body to tremble, pussy fluttering. He only needs a nod from you to begin, pushing into you.

Immediately the pressure is building up inside of you, and with the way that Joost groans above you you know that neither of you are about to last particularly long.

Like Aggu, is first strokes are slow, getting you used to the way you stretch around him. Though it's hard to keep a slow pace as he slips against your walls, slick with a mixture of his saliva, your arousal, and Aggu's release. Soon enough his thrusts build up force, immediately pumping himself into that perfect spot inside you.

You're taken back to that first night the two of you hooked up, his prior experience with you only making him more skillful with his thrusts.

With the pace he builds up with his thrusts, his glasses slip all the way off his face, lightening the dirty moment with a small laugh from both of you as they land on your chest.

"Sorry," He chuckles. You grab the glasses from your chest, gently placing them beside you on the bed.

"Don't be," You grin, "Just a testament to how hard you're working."

And working hard he was, the both of you drinking in the sensation of each other.

"Fuck, liefje," He groans, "You're even better than I remember."

You have to admit you feel the same, as hard as you had tried in the last months to remember the sensation he brought you, nothing could top the real thing.

"Fuck how am I supposed to go back to the Netherlands without this." He cracks a small laugh.

"Guess you'll have to take me with you." You tease,

"Don't tempt me, baby. I'll have you on the next flight out there."

Your briefly imagine the prospect, it was hot, being reckless in such a way, leaving your whole life for some dick, though you couldn't put it past yourself.

With another stroke, your jaw clenches, your body suddenly feeling much tighter than before, a sharp sensation building between your thighs.

"I think I'm close," You're disappointed you aren't able to hold out much longer, but with all the anticipation of the night, you can't exactly blame yourself.

"Good," He exhales, "Good, that's okay, make a mess on my cock baby. I'm close too."

You cannot deny him of that, not when he clearly wants it so bad. His thrusts become more pointed as he reaches his orgasm, they're sharp, and small, barely taking the time to pull out by any substantial length before shoving himself back inside of you. He leans forward a little more, hitting into you at a new angle, the base of his cock dragging against your clit as he pulls out. The newfound sensation is enough to throw you over the edge with ease.

A few pathetic curses leave your mouth, before your vision starts to blur, your orgasm gripping control of your entire body, dulling all of your other senses.

"I'm cumming- fuckfuck." You whine, your pussy beginning to spasm around the length of Joost's cock, gripping him just right to send him into orgasm.

"Shit," He grits, "Me too," His movements sloping entirely as his release starts to pour into you.

Your body trembles under him, tingling with complete and utter pleasure as the two of you both ride out your highs, uncontrollable smiles plastered on both of your faces.

With a few final pumps Joost collapses on top of you, trying his best to keep the full weight of his body off of your chest. Though the weight of him on top of you is comforting, especially as you wrap around your arms around him, his naked flesh sticky with sweat. Despite him being inside of you, you still desire to feel him closer.

A familiar feeling creeps into you, one you cannot tell if it is good or bad, but you know tonight will only force the crush you had developed on Joost in the last year to become more insatiable. You had gotten lucky tonight with Aggu deciding to get between the two of you, but now you needed to figure out on your own how you could possibly make him yours.

"So," You sigh, "Still willing to be my tour guide?"

#joost klein x reader #joost klein x f! reader #joost klein rpf #ski aggu x reader #rpf #joost klein #ski aggu

369 notes · View notes

princessnamora · 8 months ago

Text

How Marilyn Monroe changed Ella Fitzgerald’s life

If asked “Who played an important role in the musical career of Ella Fitzgerald?” you might respond with names like Chick Webb, Louis Armstrong, Norman Granz, and Dizzy Gillespie.

The name Marilyn Monroe (who passed away 50 years ago this August), however, might not come to mind.

While touring in the ’50s under the management of Norman Granz, Ella, like many African-American musicians at the time, faced significant adversity because of her race, especially in the Jim Crow states. Granz was a huge proponent of civil rights, and insisted that all of his musicians be treated equally at hotels and venues, regardless of race.

Despite his efforts, there were many roadblocks and hurdles put in to place, especially for some of the more popular African-American artists. Here is one story of Ella’s struggles (as written in chicagojazz.com):

Once, while in Dallas touring for the Philharmonic, a police squad irritated by Norman’s principles barged backstage to hassle the performers. They came into Ella’s dressing room, where band members Dizzy Gillespie and Illinois Jacquet were shooting dice, and arrested everyone. “They took us down,” Ella later recalled, “and then when we got there, they had the nerve to ask for an autograph.”

Across the country, black musicians, regardless of popularity, were often limited to small nightclubs, having to enter through the back of the house. Similar treatment was common at restaurants and hotels.

Enter Marilyn Monroe

During the ’50s, one of the most popular venues was Mocambo in Hollywood. Frank Sinatra made his Los Angeles debut at Mocambo in 1943, and it was frequented by the likes of Clark Gable, Charlie Chaplin, Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall and Lana Turner.

Ella Fitzgerald was not allowed to play at Mocambo because of her race. Then, one of Ella’s biggest fans made a telephone call that quite possibly changed the path of her career for good. Here, Ella tells the story of how Marilyn Monroe changed her life:

“I owe Marilyn Monroe a real debt … she personally called the owner of the Mocambo, and told him she wanted me booked immediately, and if he would do it, she would take a front table every night. She told him – and it was true, due to Marilyn’s superstar status – that the press would go wild. The owner said yes, and Marilyn was there, front table, every night. The press went overboard. After that, I never had to play a small jazz club again. She was an unusual woman – a little ahead of her times. And she didn’t know it.”

Learning from Ella

Ella had an influence on Marilyn as well. Monroe’s singing had a tendency to be overshadowed by dress-lifting gusts of wind and the flirtatious “Happy Birthday, Mr. President,” not to mentions her movies and marriage to Joe DiMaggio. But years prior to the Mocambo phone call, Monroe was studying the recordings of Ella.

In fact, it was rumored that a vocal coach of Monroe instructed her to purchase Fitzgerald’s recordings of Gershwin music, and listen to it 100 times in a row.

Continued study of Ella actually turned Marilyn into a relatively solid singer for about a decade, but again became overlooked as her famous birthday tribute song to JFK in 1962 ends up being the vocal performance that is widely remembered.

Source: How Marilyn Monroe changed Ella Fitzgerald’s life – Groove Notes by KNKX

@hotvintagepoll

#marilyn monroe #ella fitzgerald

341 notes · View notes

vintagelasvegas · 6 days ago

Text

Tally Ho / Aladdin / Planet Hollywood

Aladdin opened in 1966 with one of the Strip's first neon-enhanced porte-cochéres, a freestanding sign featuring a revolving, three-sided marquee, topped with an "Aladdin's Lamp," designed and fabricated by YESCO.

Tally Ho ('62-'65)

'61: Edwin S. Lowe announces plans for Tally Ho non-gaming hotel. In the 40s the land was owned by locals Salton, Rose, and Goldberg. (Alexander & Rebecca Salton, founding members of the Las Vegas Jewish community.)

'62: Dec. 24, Opening of Tally-Ho, hotel and country club with 9-hole golf course. 322 of the 450 rooms open during “preview opening” in Dec. The hotel was alternately spelled Tally Ho, Tally-Ho, and Tallyho.

'63: Oct. 11, Tally Ho closed. “Ed Lowe made no excuses … admits he was dead wrong about a no gambling luxury hotel.” (Hertz, RJ 10/13/63)

'63: Oct., Norman Kaye and Frank Windsor operate the Tally Ho golf course.

'63: Oct.-Dec., The hotel is sold to Kings Crown Inns of America, represented by Floyd and Beryl Cook, Donald Bolinger (Cooks Brothers Trusts, Indiana). Under lease to operators Edward Nealis, Charles Luftig, and partners, Kings Crown Tally Ho's hotel, lounge, and restaurants reopen in Dec. (Duke, RJ 12/20/63)

'64: Construction of a showroom and casino begins in Fall, misses New Year's Eve opening deadline. The showroom and casino are completed in '65, ultimately never opened. (RJ 4/8/64, RJ 5/18/65)

'65: Nealis heads 18 casino applicants of Tallyho Operating Co. who are unable to get approval from Nevada Gaming Control Board (GCB). In later years Jimmy "the Weasel" Fratianno of the Los Angeles crime family claimed he owned a piece of the Tally Ho and was to run the casino. (AP, 2/17/65, RJ 11/25/84)

'65: Apr. 1, Tally Ho closed for the second time after King's Crown files suit against Tallyho Operating Co. for unpaid rent. Tenants are evicted, property put in control of the owners.

'65: Dec., Tally Ho bought by Milton Prell (Prell Hotel Corp.) from The Cooks Brothers Trusts.

Aladdin ('66-'97)

'66: Aladdin announced. Drawings for redesigned casino and proposed hotel tower unveiled early in the year. Martin Stern, architect. (RJ 1/2/66, RJ 1/17/66)

'66: Mar. 31, Aladdin opened. Freestanding sign and the Strip's first neon-enhanced porte-cochère by YESCO. Primary owners M. Prell, G. Gilbert, and S. Krystal, all former members of Sahara-Nevada Corp. Comedian Jackie Mason opens the 500-seat Baghdad Theatre.

'66: Dec., Prell stops $75k/month payments on the Aladdin and asks that the price be cut. The trustees agree to reduce the sale price to $5.5M. (Dayton, 4/20/72)

'67: Sep. 26, Milton Prell suffers a debilitating stroke which removes him from Aladdin management. (Dayton, 4/20/72)

'68: Apr., Stockholders of Prell Hotel Corp. vote to merge with Parvin-Dohrmann Co., leading to Parvin-Dohrmann take-over the Aladdin.

'68: Jun., Parvin-Dohrmann operation of Aladdin’s casino approved by GCB. (RJ 6/20/68)

'68: Sep., 28, "after the stock trade was finalized, Milton Prell, by this time paralyzed, was told by the new management he had two weeks to get out of the Aladdin." (McKnight, Alexander. Journal Herald, 4/20/72)

'70: Parvin-Dohrmann adopts the new name Recrion, and strips the firm of all its holdings except for its three Las Vegas hotel-casinos: Aladdin, Fremont, and Stardust.

'71: Oct.-Dec., Recrion announces sale to Sam Diamond, P. Webbe, R. Daly, D. Aikin as Aladdin Hotel Corp. Diamond announces plans for hotel tower.

'71: Entertainment director James Tamer is involved in secretly managing the casino and directing the skim, according to later conviction.

'74: Aladdin investigated by GCB for issuing comps to organized crime figures.

'74: Groundbreaking for the “Tower of Majesty” high-rise, and theater. Lee Linton, architect. Years later in '83, Linton and Aladdin attorney Sorkis Webbe are each convicted of tax fraud in relating to a kickback scheme during the '74 expansion.

'76: Jul., Tower and Theatre for the Performing Arts opened; new porte-cochère by Charles Barnard, Ad-Art; original sign replaced; all financed by Teamsters Central States Pension Fund loan.

'76: Mae Ellen George buys 24% of the hotel, relying on advice of Tamer.

'78: Aug. 3, Detroit federal grand jury indicts Tamer, Aladdin GM James Abraham, Aladdin casino manager Edward Monazym, and Charles Goldfarb (denied a license in ’71) of conspiring to allow hidden owners to exert control over the resort. Owners of the Aladdin at this time are Webbe (34%), Diamond (23%), Mae George (19%), Daly (14%), John Jenkins (8%), and George Morse (2%). (RJ 8/3/78)

'79: Mar. 13, Tamer, Abraham, Monazym, and Goldfarb convicted.

'79: Aug., GCB closes the resort; U.S. District Judge Claiborne opens it hours later, “until a mob-free buyer could be found.” (German, RJ 9/20/2021.)

'80: Jan., Ed Nigro gains a court-sanctioned takeover of the Aladdin after he and Johnny Carson sign an agreement to buy the property for $105M. The deal falls through.

'80: Jul. 10, GCB revokes Aladdin's license and the casino is closed; hotel remains open.

'80: Oct. 1, Casino is reopened after Ed Torres and Wayne Newton buy the Aladdin for $85M.

'82: Jul, Torres buys Newton's shares of the Aladdin.

'84: Feb., Aladdin placed under bankruptcy protection after a Teamsters Pension Fund forces foreclosure.

'85: Jan. 22, Ginji Yasuda buys the Aladdin for $54M; casino closed during Yasuda licensing.

'87: Apr. 1, gaming reopens.

'89: Aug., Yasuda, failing to reveal the source of millions in loans, loses his gaming license; Aladdin forced into bankruptcy.

'90: Aladdin spends the year in bankruptcy, operated by William Dougall.

'91: Jun., Property title transferred to Bell Atlantic Tricon Leasing Corp when no buyers meet the minimum bid.

'92: Jun., Aladdin emerges from 3-year bankruptcy, control is given to Joe Burt and his JMJ management team on a 12-year lease with Bell Atlantic Tricon.

'94: Dec., Jack Sommer, Signman Sommer Family Trust, buys the Aladdin for $80M. "When the family trust sold a major New York property in '94, Sommer needed to find a real estate investment for the proceeds to avoid substantial capital-gains taxes. The Aladdin was on the market at the time." (Simpson. RJ 8/13/2000.) Other potential buyers included Donald Trump.

'97, Nov 25: Aladdin closed. A new hotel-casino to be built on the 35-acre parcel.

'98, Apr 28: Aladdin tower demolished. Former Tally Ho rooms later demolished; Theater remains.

Aladdin (2000-2007) Planet Hollywood (2007-)

2000: New build of the Aladdin. Mall opens 8/17/00, hotel and casino delayed, opening 8/18/00. Cost: $1.1B.

2001: Sep., Aladdin files for bankruptcy.

2003: Aladdin sold for $635M to OpBiz investment group led by Planet Hollywood CEO Robert Earl. Sale finalized 9/1/2004.

2007: Apr. 17, renamed Planet Hollywood.

2009: Harrah’s Ent. purchases part of the $860M mortgage, takes full ownership in Feb. 2010. Harrah’s later rebranded as Caesars Entertainment.

Photos of Tally Ho | Photos of the Aladdin

Headline photo: Undated, circa '68, from The Magic Sign by Charles Barnard.

Circa Feb.-Mar. 1966: The hotel was open before the casino. Installation of the sign is beginning. Photo: Las Vegas News Bureau.

Mar. 1966: Sequence of photographs showing YESCO’s revolving, three-sided Aladdin pylon structure being pieced together by dual cranes ahead of their opening on the 31st. Ad-Art collection, from Charles Barnard’s The Magic Sign.

Undated, Las Vegas News Bureau.

Timeline sources. Previous landowners: C.D. Baker Map of Las Vegas Valley ’40; Alexander Salton. UNLV Special Collections & Archives.

Tally Ho: Tallyho Preview Attracts 3500. Review-Journal, 12/28/62; Tallyho Hotel Closes. Review-Journal, 10/11/63 p1; Murray Hertz. Future of Tallyho Raises Questions. Review-Journal, 10/13/63; Gordon Kent. Tally-Ho Hotel Sold. Review-Journal, 11/1/63; Forrest Duke. New Tallyho Sale Deal. Review-Journal, 12/20/63; Tallyho Plans $1 Million Show. Review-Journal, 4/8/64; Associated Press. Gaming Board Refuses Tallyho Casino License. Review-Journal, 2/17/65 p1; G. Kent, F. Duke. Strip Hotel Closes. Review-Journal, 4/1/65 p1; Tallyho Sues Owners. Review-Journal, 5/18/65 p1.

Tally Ho and Aladdin sales covered in a series by Keith McKnight and Andrew Alexander for The Journal Herald, Dayton OH. Welsh confirmed with crime figures. Journal Herald, 4/20/72; Firm with crime ties linked to casino deal. Journal Herald, 4/21/72.

Aladdin: Associated Press. Gamers Approve. Review-Journal, 6/20/68 p1; Associated Press. Firm adopts new name: Recrion Corp. Reno Gazette Journal, 12/14/70; Lou Miller. Aladdin Hotel sold. Review-Journal, 11/8/71; Jerry Ralya. New Aladdin Corporation seeks license. Review-Journal, 12/29/71; Aladdin execs indicted. Review-Journal, 8/3/78; AP. Las Vegas architect sentenced to prison. Review-Journal, 3/8/83; AP. Webbe convicted. Review-Journal, 6/19/83; Jane Ann Morrison. LV Casinos Targeted in Money Laundering. Review-Journal, 11/25/84; Aladdin Hotel's history spans 30 years. Review-Journal, 1/5/94 p3; Dave Palermo. Aladdin Hotel finally sells. Review-Journal, 12/9/94 p1; History. Review-Journal, 11/23/97 p14; Jeff Simpson. Aladdin owner faces music. Review-Journal, 8/13/2000; Chronology of the Aladdin hotel-casino. Las Vegas Sun, 8/18/2000. John L. Smith. Sharks in the Desert. Barricade Books, 2005; Jeff German. The Genie in the Lamp, and Close the Place Down. Review-Journal, 9/20/2021.

#Tally Ho #Aladdin

79 notes · View notes

meazalykov · 8 months ago

Text

she was the golden girl

uswnt x (romantic) aitana bonmatí x (platonic) fridolina rolfo x uswnt!reader

summary: what happened in a world where reader plays in the 2023 World Cup after winning the 2019 World Cup?

warnings: tiny bit of angst and sadness, google translated spanish.

part two (part one here)

I remembered when I stood on the french pitch, surrounded by the deafening cheers of the crowd, sometimes I can’t believe that it happened. Tears welled up in my eyes as I hugged my best friend Mallory, threatening to spill over as a whirlwind of emotions flooded my mind.

My hands trembled as I clutched the World Cup trophy tightly to my chest, feeling the weight of my team's triumph. The third goal in the world cup was scored by me, the youngest goalscorer in a Women’s World Cup final. The journey to this moment had been grueling, filled with sacrifices, sweat, and endless dedication. But looking back, all the pain and hardship were worth it.

Before the World Cup, the Champions League medal hung proudly around my neck, a testament to the skill and hard work I’ve displayed on the field. At the time, Lyon was the club of my life. I believed that I would’ve never left the french institution, extending my contract as much as I possibly could’ve. The memories of each game, each goal, each victory rushed back to me, overwhelming my senses.

And then there was the Ballon d'Or many months after both competitions, the ultimate recognition of my individual excellence. To be acknowledged as the best, only at the age of 19 years old, was a dream I had hardly dared to entertain. Yet there I was, being the second woman holding the prestigious award in my small hands, my name etched into football history forever as I stood beside Lionel Messi who received the men’s d’or.

Surrounded by my teammates, coaches, and supporters, I felt a surge of gratitude and humility. This moment wasn't just about me; it was about the collective effort of everyone who had believed in my skills along the way. I will never forget it.

Four years later, It's 2023. I am 23 years old and still impressing the fans around the World. However, the scars of my ACL injury were still fresh, a constant reminder of the hurdles I had overcome to be here after the harsh 2022 year.

Playing for Lyon had once been a dream come true. I’ll never forget that experience. When I signed to Lyon from Portland Thorns at the age of 18, I was overwhelmed in joy. I needed that new challenge, and that challenge earned me the best awards, collectively and individually. But, the fallout from my December 2021 injury had left a bitter taste in my mouth. The club I had once called home had felt more like a distant memory as I felt forced to make the difficult decision to part ways and start a new life in the sunny Spanish city.

Now, I wore the red and blue Barcelona jersey onto the pitch. The transfer left me heartbroken, at first, now I felt a renewed sense of purpose. The road to recovery after my ACL injury in France had been long and arduous, filled with doubts and setbacks. Sometimes, I believed that my prime occurred at the age of 19, instead of the predicted 24-30 years old. Yet here I am, defying the odds once again to represent my country on the world stage in two months.

Sometimes the memories of my victories with Lyon and the United States lingered in the back of my mind, serving as both motivation and a reminder of what was at stake. The Champions League trophy I had lifted with Lyon and the World Cup I had claimed with the United States were testaments to my talent and resilience. But now, I lifted the Champions League trophy with Barcelona.

After scoring the second goal of the final, with Patricia before me and Fridolina afterwards, the gold hung beautifully around my neck. It was my fourth time I've felt such a high amount of glory, but the happy tears still came as if it were the first.

A month later, I am on a fourteen hour flight from Los Angeles to Wellington, New Zealand. As The plane soared through the clouds and I sat in my business class seat, my hands gripping the armrests tightly and my heart pounded in my chest.

“Y/n?” I took out my airpods when I heard the faint sound of my name coming from outside of them. I turned to my right and saw my teammate and captain, Lindsey, looking at me with a confusing look.

“Hey.” I joked, pretending like my stress wasn’t visible for everyone to see.

“Are you okay?” Lindsey asked. In my head, I debated on if I wanted to lie and say yes, just so I didn’t have to burden her with my stress. However, she’s known me for many years, the woman would notice my lie from miles away.

“Not really. I’m just–a bit nervous.” I swallowed. The blonde girl nodded her head in understanding as she rested her arm beside mine.

“That's understandable. Is it the competition that's bothering you? I mean– we are defending champions so we have a lot to prove.” Lindsey asked. I took a deep breath as my mind shifted to a particular person from my Barcelona team.

“No– It's about–um.” I stopped speaking. I didn’t want her to cloud my head during the competition, as we both promised ourselves that we would play as rivals, not lovers.

“Aitana?” Lindsey questioned, but yet finished what I would’ve said. I noticed my head as my face was plastered with sadness.

“yeah.” I mumbled. The Lyon midfielder looked at me with a questionable look, wondering if there were problems between the Spanish girl and I.

“I mean– there's no problem between us. However we prioritize football first you know? we both agreed that during the competition, we wouldn’t talk much.. just so we can focus on this.” I ranted. I’m not stressed because of a possible match between Spain and the United States, I know that I’ll miss the shorter woman a lot. Also, what if we stop talking and a third factor might influence our relationship moving forward?

“That's good that you’re prioritizing us– You shouldn’t feel nervous about your relationship because this will give you time to miss each other– things will go back to normal once the world cup is over.” Lindsey patted my shoulder in sympathy, I smirked as my nervousness started to subside.

A month later, as I stepped up to the penalty spot, the weight of the world seemed to rest upon my shoulders. We finished the match against Sweden 0-0 and after extra time, we had to go into a penalty shootout. The stadium roared around me, a cacophony of cheers and chants from both sides echoing in my small ears. Nerves danced in my stomach, threatening to consume me with doubt and mistakes.

With a deep breath, My eyes focused on Zećira Mušović standing between me and the goal. She did great throughout the game and has the reflexes to stop my shot. Determination burned in my eyes, she saw it too.

As I approached the ball with speed, the tension in the air was palpable but I couldn’t care. Every step felt like an eternity as my foot sent the ball soaring towards the goal. Mušović dove in desperation, but my ball went directly to the middle as she dove left. The ball crashed into the back of the net, eliciting a deafening roar from the crowd and from my teammates.

My dimples on my cheeks showed as I am happy to make the penalty. Being substituted on the pitch after halftime, I tried my best to score but my shot on goal was overturned by VAR. Apparently, my body was offside.

Now, my arms wrapped the bodies of Sophia Smith and Megan Raphinoe as I looked ahead at Kelley O’hara. My heart raced as I stared at her white colored cleats. She needed to score this, or else Sweden had the opportunity to win the knockout.

She Missed. My heart dropped to my stomach as I looked at the Swedish players with rising confidence and opportunity. Hurtig took the shot and Alyssa blocked it over the line. This caused a debate among the crowd. Deep down, I knew Sweden made it. They’ve won. However, VAR was the only hope which would have proved me wrong.

Unfortunately, I was right. Sweden emerged victorious in the penalty shootout, their celebration serving as a bitter reminder of the heartbreak that awaited my teammates and I.

No, No, NO! I thought to myself as I felt the moisture in my eyes start to take place. Immediately, my mind did a flashback to the 2019 World Cup Final. Being 19 years old and happy as my small, yet muscular, arms held the heavy World Cup trophy.

With a heavy heart, I broke away from my teammates and looked among the Americans in the stands. My shaky hands clapped to the fans in the stands, my facade of strength crumbling with each step she took. Cameras could capture my weak struggle to stay strong as the Swedish crowd rightfully celebrated.

Turning around, walking back towards the Americans who were on the team, my knees collapsed on the grassy pitch, tears streamed down my tired face. This was the worst that the United States had completed in a World Cup. What went wrong?

I wanted to stand up so badly, but I didn’t. Shame and Defeat took over my body which laid in the grass. What is my family in the crowd thinking? What are the USWNT fans thinking? What are my fans thinking?... my tears cried out more when I wondered what Aitana was thinking.

After ten minutes of darkness in my eyes, covered by my hands. A comforting presence enveloped my body. I recognized the floral smell mixed with a tint of sweat. I looked up from my hands and saw Fridolina, my teammate from Barcelona and now my opponent who won the Round of 16.

“You did so good, Don’t beat yourself up over this!” Fridolina spoke to me first as her thumbs wiped over my teary eyes. I felt comfort but a small amount of envy was inside of me, I wanted to win so badly.

“Congratulations Frido.” The Swedish girl took her hands and helped me stand up as she gave me a tight hug. Aitana, Frido, and I are a trio back in Barcelona. In fact, she helped Aitana and I confess our feelings to each other.

“Thank you! Just know that I am proud of you, she is proud of you too. Even if you aren’t proud of yourself.” The 29 year old said as my eyes stained her yellow covered shoulders. I knew she meant Aitana when she said “she”. However, I didn’t know where the Spanish woman was at the moment and what she was thinking.

“Just go be-beat Japan. Okay?” I said through a crack in my voice. I found solace in the embrace of my friend. I might’ve lost but I am not a bitter person, now I want to see my club teammates have a good World Cup like I’ve once experienced.

As we exchanged jerseys, the voice in my head kept reassuring myself that I'll come back stronger than ever in 2027.

Just a week later, most of my American teammates left Australia and went back home. However, my teammate Kristie and I decided to stay back. Kristies had a girlfriend who played on a different international team like I did, so we wanted to support them as they’re advancing to the semi-finals.

Witnessing my Barcelona teammates play each other in the Spain vs Sweden match was intense. Standing beside Aitana’s parents, I wore a basic dark green t-shirt with 501 mid-thigh levi shorts. This is the first time I've met them as her girlfriend and they’re sweet people. We celebrated Spain’s win against Sweden and my heart would have exploded in happiness. My girlfriend will experience a World Cup final!

On August 20th, after an intense match and a lovely goal from Olga Carmona, Spain won the World Cup! The feeling was bittersweet for me. I am happy for my girlfriend but subconsciously, I knew I wanted it to be me with the United States. However, I brushed that feeling aside since I needed to be happy for my lover.

“Aitana ¡Estoy tan feliz por ti!” We both ran towards each other and hugged. I feel her lightly kiss the side of my head as I inhale her scent. Being able to feel her embrace after a month apart filled the small void in my heart.

“¡Esto es tan irreal, ahora sé cómo te sentiste hace tantos años!” (This is so unreal, now I know how you felt all those years ago!) Aitana smiled. The smile on my face struggled to stay as a small frown, which I tried hard to conceal, plastered on my face for a quick second. I don’t think she noticed.

“Lo siento por lo que ocurrió. En el fondo esperaba que fuéramos nosotros dos quienes nos enfrentaríamos en la final.” (I'm sorry for what happened. Deep down I hoped that it would be the two of us who would face each other in the final.) Aitana said as she understood my defeat in the Round of 16.

“Aquí también. Sólo debes saber que todavía estoy muy feliz por ti, a pesar de mi derrota.” (Here too. Just know that I am still very happy for you, despite my defeat.) I said as I admired the goal medal that sat perfectly on Aitana's chest. She gave me a sympathetic smile before hugging me again.

“¡Te amo!” Aitana whispered into my ear.

“Te quiero más” I smiled back as I relaxed into her arms.

#fc barcelona #uswnt imagine #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #aitana bonmati #salma paralluelo #uswnt x reader #sophia smith #lindsey horan #uswnt players #fridolina rolfö #sweden #wwc 2023 #barcelona femeni

217 notes · View notes

mattsobvimyfav · 5 days ago

Text

roommates (matthew sturniolo)

pt 25 -

a/n - Happy New Year!!!!

The house was packed. Music thumped through the speakers, reverberating in my chest, and there were drinks in everyone’s hands. It was New Year’s Eve, and Matt had convinced me to come to a party hosted by an old hockey friend from his high school club team. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.

Matt had barely left my side all night, which was a little surprising considering how independent he usually was at parties. But every time I turned to grab a drink or talk to someone, he was there, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back or his arm casually draped over my shoulders. It was subtle, but it felt like he wanted everyone to know I was with him, that I was his, and I couldn’t deny that it made me feel special.

Chris was there too, bouncing around the party like he was trying to talk to everyone in the room. At one point, he stopped by where Matt and I were sitting on the couch, his phone in hand. “Charlie says hi,” he said, holding up his screen to show her smiling face.

“Hi, Charlie!” I called, waving at her through the screen.

“Hi, Y/N!” she said with a laugh. “Wish I could be there with you guys.”

“Next year,” I promised, and she nodded.

The night passed in a blur of laughter, drinks, and music. At one point, Matt pulled me onto the dance floor, spinning me around in a way that was so goofy and awkward that I couldn’t stop laughing. But as the clock crept closer to midnight, the party shifted. People began to gather in the living room, drinks in hand, as the host turned on the TV to show the ball drop in Times Square.

“Two minutes!” someone shouted, and a buzz of excitement rippled through the room.

I looked up at Matt, who was already watching me with an intensity that made my stomach flip. “What?” I asked, my voice barely audible over the noise around us.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just… thinking.”

I raised an eyebrow but didn’t press him, turning my attention back to the TV. The countdown had started—“Ten! Nine! Eight!”—and the energy in the room was electric.

“Seven! Six! Five!”

Matt leaned down, his voice low in my ear. “You ready for this?”

“For what?” I asked, turning to look at him.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Before I could respond, Matt cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. It wasn’t just a peck or a quick celebratory kiss—it was slow, deliberate, and filled with an intensity that took my breath away. I could hear people cheering around us, but it all faded into the background as I focused on him.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, and he whispered, “Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“Happy New Year,” I replied, my heart racing.

“Get a room!” Nick called from somewhere behind us, making Matt laugh and me roll my eyes.

Meanwhile, Chris was off to the side, holding his phone up as he FaceTimed Charlie. “You ready?” he asked her, and she nodded with a smile. As the party around us continued to celebrate, Chris kissed the screen, and Charlie did the same on her end, laughing as she said, “This is so cheesy.”

“You love it,” Chris shot back, grinning.

The rest of the night was a blur of celebrations, but that moment at midnight stuck with me. It felt like a new beginning—not just for the year, but for me and Matt. As we left the party hand in hand, I couldn’t help but feel like 2025 was going to be a good year for us.

The next day I sat on my bed in pjs, simply watching T.V. It was the night before Matt, Chris, and Nick were set to leave for Los Angeles to meet with their manager. The trip had been planned for a while, but now that it was here, it felt like it had snuck up on me. I knew it was only a few days, but the thought of not having Matt around felt… strange. We’d been inseparable over the break, and now he and his brothers were about to hop on a plane across the country.

Charlie had taken the three hour drive to my house to spend the week, so we could see them off together the next morning. She showed up in her usual cozy attire—a sweatshirt and leggings—with her bag slung over her shoulder.

“This is gonna be weird,” she said as we settled into my living room, her hands wrapped around a mug of hot cocoa. “I’m so used to hanging out with them every day now.”

“Tell me about it,” I replied, pulling a blanket over my legs. “Matt hasn’t gone more than a few hours without texting me since we started dating, and now he’s about to be in a completely different time zone.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow, smirking. “What, you think he’s gonna forget about you while he’s out there?”

“Not at all,” I said with a laugh. “But it’s still weird. I’m gonna miss him.”

We spent the night talking about our classes, the boys, and how excited we were for them to take this next big step. As much as I hated the idea of saying goodbye, I was genuinely happy for them. They’d worked so hard, and they deserved all the opportunities coming their way.

By the time we finally went to bed, it was late, but neither of us slept much. The next morning, we were up early, groggy but determined to make it to the airport with them. Charlie and I quickly got ready, throwing on sweats and hoodies before heading to the triplets’ house.

When we arrived, the boys were in their usual state of chaos—Nick was running around trying to find his charger, Chris was attempting to shove way too many things into his carry-on, and Matt was calmly scrolling through his phone like he had all the time in the world.

“You’re seriously not packed yet?” I teased Matt as I walked in, shaking my head.

“I packed last night,” he said, grinning. “Unlike them, I’m organized.”

“Barely,” Nick muttered, walking past with a tangled mess of cords in his hands.

Charlie and I hung around the house as the boys finished up their last-minute packing, making sure they had everything they needed. When it was finally time to go, we piled into the car with them, the atmosphere buzzing with a mix of excitement and nervous energy.

At the airport, the goodbyes felt more emotional than I expected. Charlie hugged Chris tightly, whispering something to him that made him smile, while Nick gave me one of his signature dramatic goodbyes, complete with a mock tearful wave.

Finally, it was just me and Matt. He pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping securely around me as he rested his chin on top of my head.

“You gonna miss me?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Of course,” I said, leaning back to look up at him. “You better text me as soon as you land.”

“Deal,” he said with a small smile. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing. “I’ll try not to.”

As they walked through security, Charlie and I stood there waving until they disappeared from view. The drive home was quiet, both of us lost in our thoughts.

“They better not find other bitches out there,” Charlie said eventually, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “I'll kill them.”

Four days later, the boys were finally on their way back home. It felt like forever since I’d seen Matt, even though we texted and FaceTimed constantly while he was in Los Angeles. The moment he told me they’d landed, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of excitement.

I was home with Charlie, both of us eagerly waiting for them to come over. We’d already set up the living room with blankets, pillows, and snacks for the sleepover.

“You think they’re exhausted, or are we keeping them up all night?” Charlie asked, plopping down on the couch.

“Oh, we’re definitely keeping them up,” I said with a grin.

About an hour later, there was a knock at the door, and I jumped up to answer it. Matt stood there, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, looking as handsome as ever despite the long flight. Chris and Nick were right behind him, both of them beaming.

“Did you miss us?” Matt asked as he stepped inside, leaning down to kiss me on the forehead.

“Not at all,” I teased, grabbing his bag and setting it by the stairs. “You guys should’ve stayed longer.”

Nick dramatically clutched his chest. “Rude. You know you missed me the most.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Oh, definitely. Life was so quiet without you.”

We all laughed as they settled in, kicking off their shoes and claiming spots on the couch. Chris and Charlie immediately started bickering over who got to pick the movie, while Nick made a beeline for the snacks. Matt, as usual, was more reserved, quietly sitting down beside me and pulling me closer to him.

“You’re quiet,” I said softly, glancing up at him.

“Just tired,” he replied, resting his chin on my shoulder. “But I missed this. Missed you.”

I smiled, leaning into him. “I missed you too.”

Once everyone was settled, we ended up putting on a movie none of us really watched, too busy catching up and laughing about their trip. They told us all about the meetings, the weird LA traffic, and the crazy fans who somehow found their hotel.

It wasn’t long before Nick fell asleep mid-sentence, sprawled out on the floor with a blanket over his head. Chris and Charlie eventually followed, both of them dozing off on the couch, but Matt and I stayed awake a little longer, just enjoying the quiet moment together.

“Glad to be home?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“More than you know,” he said, his eyes meeting mine.

We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in our own little world, before finally falling asleep next to each other. It felt good to have everyone back where they belonged.

The next morning, we all woke up surprisingly early despite how late we’d stayed up. After a quick clean-up of the chaos from the night before, the boys suggested we head over to their house to make breakfast.

Charlie and I piled into Matt’s car while Nick and Chris took their own. When we arrived at the triplets’ house, Mary Lou greeted us warmly at the door. “You kids are up early! Breakfast in the kitchen?”

“You know it, Mom,” Chris said, already heading toward the cabinets to grab ingredients.

The boys quickly took over the kitchen, with Matt pulling me along to help him with pancakes while Charlie worked on cutting fruit with Nick. Chris took charge of eggs, somehow managing not to burn them while also cracking jokes that had everyone laughing.

As we worked, Mary Lou wandered into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, a cup of coffee in hand. “So, I was looking at some. properties—”

Before she could even finish her sentence, Matt and Chris simultaneously cut her off.

“Mom, did you see the crazy game last night?” Matt interjected, not missing a beat as he flipped a pancake.

“Yeah, I told you it was wild!” Chris chimed in, loudly stirring eggs like his life depended on it. “Absolutely insane. Overtime was ridiculous.”

The sudden shift in conversation was seamless, so much so that it didn’t even register in my or Charlie’s heads. Charlie glanced at me and raised an eyebrow, but we were too busy laughing at Nick’s attempt to steal fruit off the cutting board to really think about it.

Mary Lou chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You boys never let me finish a thought,” she said, retreating back to the living room.

The rest of breakfast was loud and fun, everyone eating in the dining room and teasing each other over who made what. Charlie and Nick argued over whose contribution was better—her fruit salad or his toast—while Chris kept stealing bites from everyone’s plates.

“Matt, tell your brother to get his own food,” I said, smacking Chris’s hand away from my plate.

“Chris, get your own food,” Matt repeated lazily, but he didn’t bother looking up from his plate as he piled on more syrup.

“Wow, thanks,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

“You’re welcome, babe,” Matt said with a small smirk, earning an exaggerated groan from Nick.

After breakfast, we all lingered at the table, laughing and reminiscing about old stories from high school. The comment from Mary Lou didn’t even cross my mind again. For now, it was just another perfect morning with everyone together.

After breakfast, the chaos in the kitchen finally settled, and we all migrated to the living room. Chris was the first to dive onto the oversized sectional, claiming a corner as he pulled a massive fluffy blanket from the back of the couch. “Charlie, you’re freezing; come here,” he called casually, holding up the edge of the blanket as an invitation.

Charlie smirked but didn’t hesitate, settling on top of him as she tucked her feet under the blanket. “You better share,” she warned, pointing a finger at him.

“I literally just said you could have some!” Chris shot back, rolling his eyes.

Nick walked in behind them, arms full of snacks he’d grabbed from the kitchen. He flopped down on the opposite corner of the couch and whistled for Trevor, their dog, who came trotting over immediately. Nick draped a smaller blanket over himself and Trevor. “Look at this,” he said, scratching behind Trevor’s ears. “Man’s best friend for life right here.”

“Trevor’s only sitting with you because you have food,” Chris teased.

“False,” Nick shot back. “He loves me.”

Matt walked in last, his usual cool, slow pace. He carried a fleece blanket under one arm and handed me another before he climbed onto the couch. He sat against the arm of it, stretching his legs out vertically, and gestured for me to sit between him.

I grinned and eagerly crawl between his legs and lean against him; my back flush against his chest. He reaches over me and pulls the blanket over the both of us keeping me warm in the cold winter air.

After we all collectively decide on a movie, I nussle back into Matt and focus on paying attention.

Halfway through the movie, I feel his hand creep around my inner thigh. It was light touches but they sent electric jolts through my body, especially as his hands started caressing up and down my leg, moving further up my bare flesh with each stroke.

Matt was normally a very touchy person, it was his love language. Whenever anything remotely went wrong the first thing he wanted to do was to touch me in any way he could. He often touches me subconsciously, just to feel close to me.

But there's no doubt in my mind he knew exactly what he was doing when his knuckles grazed my clothed slit before moving back down my thigh.

Heat pools in my core at the gentle touch and I sigh, letting my head fall into the crook of his neck. I feel him smirk against my neck and I shift your hips against him purposefully.

Two can play that game.

Now it's my turn to smirk when I feel the length of him harden underneath me. I bite back a whimper when he brings his finger underneath the hem of my sweatpants and moves my panties to the side.

His cock twitches against my ass when he parts my soaking folds using his middle finger and my nipples pinch under my shirt at the sensation.

My eyes widen when I realize that I'm still in the living room with all my friends. Luckily everyone seemed to be focused on the movie plus the lights were off and I had the blanket over us. Regardless, I didn’t want to risk being caught. Especially by his brothers.

I whisper into his neck “Matt, we can’t..” I drift off at the feeling of his finger returning to the place I want it most “..people are here, your parents are hom-”

I interrupt myself, gasping lightly and squeezing my thighs together as he moves his fingers slowly up towards my swollen bundle of nerves.

Matt’s voice comes out raspy and dripping with allure

“then I guess you’ll have to be quiet,” he pauses and adds pressure to my clit causing me to squirm in his lap “You can do that for me- yeah?”

I nod frantically and grind my hips against his hand, desperate for some friction. He laughs quietly to himself but obeys.

He starts off slow, circling and adding just enough pressure to tease me. I whine softly and push my hips against his clothed groin, a silent plea for more.

He lets out a sigh at the friction and brings his hand off my clit and to my entrance.

Without warning, he plunges two whole fingers inside me at once. A moan comes slipping out of my mouth but I quickly cover it with a cough when Nick looks in my direction. I give him a tense smile and he smiles back and turns back to the screen.

Matt’s fingers start moving and my walls clench around him tightly, earning a quiet groan from him.

I almost lose your mind when his thumb comes up, resuming the slow circles at my clit while continuing to thrust in and out of me with his long fingers.

His fingers curve inside me; hitting the soft spot that made me see stars. I lean back further into him, arching my back, and moan quietly into his neck.

“Yes right there Matt” I bite your lip to try and keep quiet.

He picks up his pace, making harder circles at my clit and plunging his fingers so deep and fast inside me that my body jolted slightly with each thrust of his hand.

My body felt tingly with pleasure and my mind was someplace else where only he existed.

I was slowly coming undone from the touch of him and I felt the knot in my stomach tighten. My walls were pulsating around his fingers and I was approaching my climax quickly.

Between the feeling of his cock poking me from behind and his fingers working their magic in the front, I was so lost in sensation and my orgasm approached faster than I expected.

His name falls so very quietly from my lips in a string of pretty moans as the knot in my stomach snaps. I release around his fingers.

Matt brings his other hand and wraps it around my mouth quickly, muffling the moans that I so desperately needed to let out.

Luckily no one seemed to notice or turn their head but you could’ve sworn I saw Charlie smirk out of the corner of my eye.

Nonetheless, he continues to thrust his fingers into me at a slower pace, letting me ride out my high.

Once I had floated down from my ecstasy, I reached for his dick behind me but he stopped me midway. I look back at him, a confused look washed over my flushed face.

“What about you?” I ask, voice just barely over a whisper.

“Shh,'' he soothes me, pushing my hand back to my lap, pulling me further into him, and holding me tight. “I get all I need from pleasing you”

I had almost forgotten.

Matt was the type of guy who enjoyed giving more than receiving. When he pleases me it's not because he’s looking for something in return, it's because seeing me unravel beneath his touch and moan out his name with such desire was way better than any orgasm he could ever endure.

I lean back and kiss his neck with gentleness “tonight you’re gonna be the one having to be quiet”

He laughs softly “Is that so?”

I tilt my head up at him and grin “oh yeah” He places a kiss on my nose and we both face back to the movie.

And even though neither of us knew what's going on, being next to each other was enough for the both of us.

My post-orgasm hit me like a brick and I drift off into sleep, cuddling into Matt’s chest as he wraps his arms around me, pulling the blanket up over my shoulders.

Tag -

@namelesssav @christmastreecake @mattsturnii @sturnrc @larnieboox88 @izzylovesmatt @tbfaptbfae @2muchofaslvt @sturnioloshottiekay @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @realuvrrr @sophia-77n @christophersstar @mattscore @whoisthisdiva1

editor- @ch0llies

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #chris sturiolo fanfic #roommates

42 notes · View notes

griffinclubca · 1 year ago

Text

Private Event Space Los Angeles

Are you looking for a private event space in Los Angeles? Discover the perfect venue for your special occasion at Griffin Club Los Angeles. Our versatile and elegant spaces provide the ideal backdrop for weddings, corporate events, or social gatherings. Create unforgettable memories at our premier event destination.

#Summer Camp Los Angeles #Salt Therapy Los Angeles #Private Event Space Los Angeles #Kids Summer Camp Los Angeles #Los Angeles Country Club #Private Club Los Angeles

0 notes

thegratefulgolfer · 2 years ago

Text

Righting Of The Ship On Day Two At The US Open

The US Open scoring returned to normal on Day Two. There were plenty of birdies out there, but in contrast too Day One, there were more bogeys. The lowest score of the day was one (1) score of -5 and two (2) scores of -4. Quite a difference from the previous round. With the trend of scores on the rise, I wonder if the remaining field will be able to plug the dam. With the weather supposedly…

View On WordPress

#Los Angeles Country Club #Major Championship #Rickie Fowler #Rory McIlory #US Open golf

0 notes

justinspoliticalcorner · 1 month ago

Text

Claire Wang at The Guardian:

Those who failed to produce papers were arrested. More than 400 people were detained and forced on a train back to Mexico, a place many had never been.

It’s a scene many fear will come to pass in president-elect Donald Trump’s second term, especially after he doubled down on a campaign promise to “launch the largest deportation operation” in US history, and confirmed he would use the military to execute hardline immigration policies. But this particular episode happened in 1931, as part of an earlier era of mass deportations that scholars say is reminiscent of what is unfolding today. The La Placita sweep became the first public immigration raid in Los Angeles, and one of the largest in a wave of “repatriation drives” that rolled across the country during the Great Depression. Mexican farm workers, indiscriminately deemed “illegal aliens”, became scapegoats for job shortages and shrinking public benefits. President Herbert Hoover’s provocative slogan, “American jobs for real Americans”, kicked off a spate of local legislation banning employment of anyone of Mexican descent. Police descended on workplaces, parks, hospitals and social clubs, arresting and dumping people across the border in trains and buses.

Nearly 2 million Mexican Americans, more than half US citizens, were deported without due process. Families were torn apart, and many children never again saw their deported parents. Hoover’s Mexican repatriation program is, among mass deportation efforts in the past, most similar to Trump’s stated plans, said Kevin R Johnson, a professor of public interest law and Chicana/o studies at the University of California, Davis, School of Law. [...] Since his first presidential run, Trump has invoked President Dwight D Eisenhower’s mass deportation program as a blueprint for his own agenda. During the second world war, the US and Mexican government enacted the Bracero program that allowed Mexican farm hands to temporarily work in the US. But many growers continued to hire undocumented immigrants because it was cheaper. In 1954, the Eisenhower administration cracked down on undocumented labor by launching “Operation Wetback”, a yearlong series of raids named after a racial epithet for people who illegally crossed the Rio Grande. [...] The politics of deportation have always contained an important “racial dimension”, said Mae Ngai, a historian whose book Impossible Subjects explores how illegal migration became the central issue in US immigration policy.

Trump has deployed racist tropes against various ethnic groups, including Mexicans as drug-dealing “rapists” and Haitians as pet eaters, while lamenting a lack of transplants from “nice”, white-majority countries like Denmark and Switzerland. Last month, sources close to the president told NBC News that he could prioritize deporting undocumented Chinese nationals. “He’s been very clear about going after people of color, people from ‘shithole countries,’” she said, referring to a 2018 remark from Trump about crisis-stricken nations like El Salvador and Haiti. Trump could plausibly deport a million people using military-style raids of the Eisenhower-era, Ngai said, but it is unlikely that he can expel 11 million undocumented immigrants. (According to an estimate by the American Immigration Council, deporting 1 million people a year would cost more than $960bn over a decade.) Still, Ngai said, his rhetoric alone could foment fear and panic in immigrant communities. But Eisenhower’s immigration approach also differed from Trump’s in notable ways, Ngai said. Though the administration did launch flashy raids, it also allowed farm owners to rehire some deportees through the Bracero program, essentially creating a pathway for authorized entry into the US. So far, Ngai said, Trump has hammered down on deportations without providing an option for legal immigration or naturalization. “He doesn’t know the whole story of ‘Operation Wetback’,” she said. Deportations also appear to have harmed the local economy.

Donald Trump’s mass deportation proposal hasn’t been the first time the US conducted mass deportations of Mexican-Americans, as it happened during the Herbert Hoover and Dwight D. Eisenhower’s presidencies. The deportations were ruinous to economies and were a human rights disaster, and Trump’s plan repeats that but turbocharges it.

#American History #Mass Deportations #Donald Trump #Herbert Hoover #Mexican Americans #Ethnic Cleansing #Dwight D. Eisenhower #La Placita Park #Operation Wetback #Bracero

41 notes · View notes

cigarretteluvr · 6 months ago

Text

i want to lay with you in a place a little inland from santa monica, maybe even marina del rey. it’ll be hot in los angeles and we’ll be blasting fans straight onto us because our apartment doesn't have AC. it doesn't have a whole lot (and neither do we), but it’s next to the liquor store and the shop we get our flowers. we've made friends with the people who work at the market.

it’s one of those kitschy, almost-dingbat apartments with only one bedroom, but we make the most of it. it’s painted peach on the outside and a few palm trees line the sidewalk. it smells faintly of cigarettes. we have orange juice in the fridge and plums on the table.

nfr is playing on vinyl, where it usually summers, and we are miserably hot but we’re together. you love to hate los angeles and i get a high being in the city that loves me with the boy i love. we listen to poetry, you play shows, i’m in the crowd, we read books together and go to new restaurants when they open. living is easy. we don’t work, we dont do anything. we just live day-by-day in the heavenly smog and indulge in the sloth necessary to be here.

i drag you around town sometimes and tell you the tales of jim morrison and sharon tate. we go to the beach whenever we want to, sometimes driving down to Newport and Laguna just because we can. basking in sun and history and architecture, we are so boringly happy here. i find beauty and joy in the spotted sidewalks and traffic, you enjoy the occasional chaos and unpredictability that comes with the lifestyle. we both take pictures of vintage cars we like when we’re out. as awful as the heat is, i think it's beautiful sitting in it with you.

you call me miss southern california herself when i ask what you want to do. everything is slow here but something is always happening and i love the way the city’s pace matches ours.

there’s always so much to do and nothing but time to do it.

- summertime, and the living's easy

10 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 2 months ago

Text

I recently watched a YouTube video of a Ukrainian performance on “America’s Got Talent.” A friend sent me the link, promising it would amaze me – and it did. You can find the video by searching “Amazing holographic 4D cube show AGT.” However, when the show’s host, Howie Mandel, said, “America’s got love for the Ukraine,” I cringed. The phrase “the Ukraine” implies it’s a territory, not a sovereign country. It’s just Ukraine – the largest country in Europe, an important nation in its own right, and sadly, a place the world still knows too little about.

Ukraine is often branded as a place of corruption and gangsters, and Hollywood doesn’t help when it makes the villains Ukrainian. After living in Kyiv for years, I’ve experienced something very different. The country I know is filled with talented, hardworking, and warm people who possess an incredible sense of humor. Since Russia’s full-scale invasion, too many people think Ukraine is nothing but a war zone.

I recently heard Mstyslav Chernov, the director of the Oscar-winning documentary “20 Days in Mariupol,” say that Americans often ask, “Is there more to Ukraine than the war?” I’ve had similar frustrating conversations abroad, with people asking, “Is that war still going on?”

Before the pandemic, I hosted many foreigners visiting Kyiv, often to explore IT opportunities. Questions like “Is it safe there?” or “Do they have the internet?” were common. Even more surprising are comments from the Ukrainian diaspora. In Canada, home to the largest Ukrainian community outside of Ukraine, some people who left decades ago have no idea how their country has advanced. “They have shopping malls in Kyiv?” or “Do they have electric cars?”

Yes, Ukraine faces challenges, and many people live on modest salaries. But there is a growing middle class, and the big cities capture imaginations. Every guest I hosted in Kyiv was blown away.

One misconception that always made me giggle is when people ask, “What will we eat there?” The food scene in Kyiv is incredible. There’s been an explosion of amazing restaurants, and dining out here can compete with New York or London any day. Even during the war, new places are opening, and the food is phenomenal. If you want to have a laugh, stand-up comedy clubs are popular – even in English. Where there’s laughter, there’s hope.

I had a friend from California visit twice, and when he returned to Los Angeles, people teased him, asking if he’d visited the land of Borat. He said Ukrainians are just like people in California – trying to build businesses, raise families, and live their lives. That’s the thing: Ukraine is not some backward nation that craves war.

Before the full-scale invasion, Kyiv was on track to become Europe’s next hotspot, and I’d have bet anything on that happening. This brutal war has set everything back. Ukraine is not about war. It’s about modernity, freedom, and new culture. It’s a country brimming with energy.

Ukraine has suffered from a poor reputation for as long as I can remember. I first discovered Kyiv nearly 17 years ago, and I’ve been saying ever since that Ukraine needs to work on its brand. Of course, now that we’re in the third year of the full-scale invasion, things are different. Air raid sirens can go off at any time, and it can be scary when Ukrainian air defenses shoot down drones and missiles. During those moments, you head to the bomb shelter. But life continues.

One of the biggest misconceptions about Ukraine is that everyone here is poor and miserable. Most people don’t have easy lives, and yes, poverty exists, but that’s true in many places. I’m originally from South Africa, where poverty exists on a different scale. In Ukraine, no one lives in shantytowns. When millions of Ukrainians fled across the borders, the European host nations were often surprised to see modern cars, fashionable clothes, and the latest smartphones. It’s a high-tech nation, and the level of online convenience here would surprise any foreigner.

There’s also a wave of innovation happening. Ukraine is poised to become a global leader in military drone technology. Artists are creating, entrepreneurs are developing cool tech, new restaurants are opening, and foreign investors are exploring opportunities. Ukraine is a miracle. Even as hypersonic missiles and kamikaze drones rain down across the country, many have decided to stay, continuing their lives, albeit in a very different way. The economy needs to keep running. Life needs to go on to keep the wheels turning.

Many passionate, dedicated people are working on projects to benefit and support Ukraine. Some have been involved long before the full-scale invasion, driven by a deep belief in the country and its people. Since 2018, I’ve been part of a team of artists — Ukrainian and international — creating a storytelling film project that captures life in modern Kyiv. “We Are Ukraine” is a story about extraordinary people in an extraordinary time — people who have chosen to continue to work, live, get married, have children, and laugh, against all odds. It’s not a war story, a story about death and demise. It’s a story about life, a love letter to Kyiv, which shows us what the world would miss out on if Kyiv would cease to exist.

Freedom, independence, and identity are the culmination of modern humanity, forged over centuries through struggle, creativity, and resilience. Everything else in civil society flows from these values. Russia’s war in Ukraine is a global wake-up call – a reminder that these values must be nurtured and protected. Ukrainians are showing that not only can they defend these values, but by continuing to live, laugh, and love, they are defying those who seek to destroy them.

youtube

#Youtube

44 notes · View notes

bellaxgiornata · 1 year ago

Text

All These Years [Part 15: "What If...?"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 4k

a/n: Some hope finally shows up in this installment! There's still a lingering bit of angst though, but I feel like overall this one is hopeful and a little bit frustrating. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks @mattmurdocksstarlight @yeonalie

Picking up a fry from your plate, you took a bite as your eyes wandered around the outdoor dining space. The restaurant you and your co-worker Alicia had met up at for lunch today was as busy as it usually was on a Saturday afternoon. The pair of you had gotten incredibly lucky to even snag a table outside to eat at this time. Despite the bright sunshine of the early November day, the light breeze and the overhead canopy made the restaurant’s patio an absolutely perfect spot this afternoon. Even with the excess noise of the various conversations going on all at once among the tables around you, you felt content. Something you’d noticed you’d felt ever since moving here, even if it often felt like something was missing from LA.

Shortly after you had moved to Los Angeles, you’d quickly connected with Alicia in your office. She had grown up in and around LA and had immediately taken it upon herself to acquaint you with all the best coffee shops, restaurants, and beach spots. She had even taken you out to the best clubs and bars for many a drunken night. The pair of you had quickly become fast friends which had certainly made your transition across the country vastly easier.

From across the table, you saw Alicia lift her glass of iced tea, drawing it to her lips as she eyed you. You knew what was coming next, because she always delved into the real conversation once you’d both gotten into your food. Raising a brow at her, you expectantly waited for the questions to come.

“So how was last night?” she asked, taking a sip from her glass. “Was this one good? Bad? Mind blowing?”

You couldn’t fight back the laugh, shaking your head as you popped the rest of the fry into your mouth and chewed. Last night you’d had a date–one of many since you’d moved to Los Angeles a little over four months ago. The first few you’d gone on hadn’t amounted to much, ending early and being entirely uneventful. Initially all you found yourself thinking about was Matt’s face and how heartbroken he’d looked when you’d left him back at your apartment that day all those months ago. But as the weeks gradually wore on since you’d been here, you’d repeatedly told yourself that you came here to try to live your life. Slowly you eventually found yourself becoming more open to dating. Because you weren’t about to turn around and run back to New York solely because you missed Matt.

Which you did. That hollow ache in your chest returned with a vengeance every time you thought about him. You missed Matt. Missed him even more because you’d only gotten one single message from him shortly after you arrived here. It had been a text, too. Something Matt never generally sent you because you knew he hated the voice to text application on his phone. All it said was ‘I hope you find your happiness.’ You hadn’t even responded back because every time you re-read his message you broke down in tears.

You hadn’t spoken to Matt in months because of it. You’d become too afraid to reach out to him the more time passed on, too. And whether it was because it hurt him too much, or he thought you didn’t want to speak to him, or he was trying to give you space, or he wanted nothing to do with you now, you never heard from him, either. Though you did speak to Karen and Foggy often. Karen had started her first semester at Columbia and was working on her law degree with the help of Matt and Foggy. She was also still trying to juggle working in the office with them when she could throughout the week. And Foggy apparently had been getting more serious with Marci while also keeping you updated about how well Nelson and Murdock had been doing.

But neither of them ever told you much about Matt, and you were always too afraid to ask.

So you’d found yourself going on dates. Sleeping around a bit more than you ever had before. You figured your old roommate at Columbia would’ve been proud of you with how much sex you’d been having for once in your life. You sure knew Alicia enjoyed hearing the stories every Saturday afternoon over lunch.

“He was good,” you said, answering Alicia’s question as you picked up another fry. “I certainly wouldn’t say mind blowing, though. I don’t think I’ve come across mind blowing sex yet.”

“Well that’s a damn shame,” she replied, setting her glass back onto the table. “So if you had to pick between LA men and New York men, which do you prefer?”

Your eyebrows shot up onto your forehead at her question. Across the table, Alicia sent you a mischievous grin before taking a bite out of her panini.

“That’s sort of hard to answer,” you told her, biting off another piece of fry. “I mean, what am I judging this by? The amount of men that want to have sex with me? How attractive I find them? Their general attitudes towards relationships?”

“All of it,” she said as she swallowed her bite of food. “I want an overall answer and a breakdown for each category.”

You laughed at her, shaking your head. “What is this? One of Scott’s impromptu meetings?” you teased back. “At least he gives me smoothies made out of lawn clippings before he shakes me down for those.”

Alicia snorted in response, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as she tried not to spit out her food while she laughed. It was true though, your boss here was a big fan of impromptu meetings. And also green smoothies.

“Okay, if I had to pick an overall winner solely based on those categories, I’d say Los Angeles men have New York men beat,” you answered. “But only because they take the win in both sex and physical appearance–which I’m thinking is because most of them spend their time shirtless at the beach. And apparently all the men out here want to do is just have sex. But that means most men here aren’t too interested in dating. Or at least, the guys I keep meeting aren’t. They just want a quick hookup. Or a no-strings attached casual thing with zero commitment.”

“Well you seem to be enjoying those,” Alicia pointed out. “With the amount of flings I’ve heard you having.”

You shrugged a shoulder, your focus dropping down to your plate of half-eaten food. Your stomach knotted a little as Matt’s face came to your mind. You missed that soft, warm smile he used to shoot you when you entered a room. You even missed the shit-eating grin he always made as he threw out one of his sarcastic jokes.

“What?” she asked, leaning forward towards you and catching your eye again. “You mean to tell me the plethora of sex isn’t what you want?”

You shrugged again. “No, not really,” you heard yourself admitting. “I wish the men I met were more interested in second dates that weren’t just an excuse for more sex. I feel like I haven’t actually gotten to know anyone on a date since I’ve been here. It’s always just empty flirtatious banter and sex. There’s no… depth .”

“Mmm,” Alicia hummed with a nod, her focus returning to her food. “Now you know why I’m still single.”

You sighed lightly, picking up a fry and toying with it. Last night had been fun, but honestly you were tired of repeatedly going on first dates that didn’t go anywhere. And you were starting to get tired of having sex and then one of you inevitably needing to get dressed and disappear immediately afterwards. It truthfully wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted something more .

“All the LA men can’t compare to the one you left back in New York, though, can they?”

Your attention shifted back to Alicia as her question hung heavy in the air. She was staring at you with that knowing look on her face as she sat back in her chair.

“I didn’t leave him, exactly,” you corrected her. “He wasn’t–wasn’t exactly mine in the first place to leave.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Not the point,” she said. “You miss him. All the sleeping around and constant dates–it was either to forget him or to try to find someone else. But you can’t, can you? I see it on your face every time we talk about your love life.”

“I mean I was trying to find someone out here,” you admitted. “I was open to it. But it just doesn’t seem like the men I meet are open to anything real .”

“Or,” Alicia said, pointing a finger at you, “you’re not really willing to try to find someone else because you’re still in love with Mr. NYC Lawyer.”

You shook your head quickly. “I don’t think that’s–”

“Admit it,” Alicia said, cutting you off. “You’re in love with him still.”

“Well I mean it’s–it’s not like you just fall out of love with someone,” you told her. “Especially when it’s been years that you’ve had feelings for the person.”

“You know what I don’t get?” she asked you, picking her iced tea back up. “Why you both don’t try long distance dating. I mean, it’s not convenient, but like…if there’s something there, why aren’t either of you trying?”

“Because he was with someone before I left,” you reminded her. “He had been considering proposing to her.”

“That was months ago now,” she pointed out. “Why are you holding back?”

“I–I haven’t heard from him,” you admitted.

Alicia pointed a finger at your cell phone sitting on the table beside your water. Your eyes guiltily dropped down towards it.

“You’ve got a phone and perfectly functioning fingers,” she said. “You’re just as capable of reaching out as he is. You’re just scared.”

Eyes lingering on the phone beside you, you felt nerves suddenly shaking loose in your gut. Because she was right. You were scared to reach out to Matt.

“Maybe I am,” you whispered.

Because what if he had moved on? What if he’d gotten back with Erica and things had gotten serious? Or he’d met someone new and he’d fallen in love with them? Or if he had somehow grown pissed that you’d left him and now he wanted nothing to do with you?

Or what if he still wanted you as much as you wanted him? What then?

A knock on his office door caused Matt to stop his typing, his head swiveling in the direction of the noise. He knew it was Karen and not Foggy standing there wanting to speak with him, he could tell from the scent of her shampoo and light perfume that was still noticeable past the smell of food lingering on her–she must’ve picked lunch up for the office. He noticed her heart was beating a little nervously in her chest though, which had Matt’s eyes narrowing curiously behind his glasses.

“Hey, I grabbed lunch from that deli nearby,” she said, her tone a little timid. “And I uh, was hoping to talk to you and Fog about something. If that’s alright?”

“Sure,” Matt said, leaning back in his chair and focusing on her. “What’s going on, Karen?”

“Well I–I was hoping to talk to you both,” she repeated nervously. “Fog’s over at my desk and I can’t actually stay for lunch because I have that exam today.”

“Right, yeah,” Matt said, adjusting his tie. “I forgot you had that today.”

“Yeah, I figured you and Foggy have had a busy week,” she continued. “That’s why I grabbed you guys lunch. I had a feeling you both would work right through it if I didn’t and you guys need to take better care of yourselves during the day. You’re both running yourselves ragged.”

Matt rose from his chair, making his way around his desk. He heard the way Karen turned and began making her way back towards her own desk in the main part of the office. Matt followed out of the room behind her.

“Well you certainly need to take care of yourself, too,” he pointed out. “You’ve been doing a lot for us around here while still focusing on your classes.”

“Yeah,” Foggy cut in, “you really do need to take a few minutes to yourself.”

Matt heard Karen’s hands fidgeting together as she expelled a light laugh. He could hear the nervous edge to it though, which only further had Matt wondering what was going on with her.

“It’s funny you should say that, actually,” Karen began. “Because as you both know, I’ve been really busy between this first semester at Columbia and keeping things running as smoothly as possible here at the firm.”

“And you’ve been doing amazing at both,” Matt assured her immediately.

“You’re a literal saint and we don’t deserve you,” Foggy added.

Matt could feel the heat rising in Karen’s cheeks as she blushed. The nervous edge didn’t leave her though as she stopped beside her desk. To Matt it sounded like her pulse was quickly increasing again.

“Well, here’s the thing,” Karen said carefully. “I’m coming up on winter break and I had this crazy idea and I was hoping you guys would be okay with it.”

“Shoot,” Foggy replied instantly.

Matt heard Karen say your name, aware that she’d sent him an apologetic look as she did. Foggy and Karen didn’t often talk about you around him since you’d left. They always told him that he tended to get quiet and moody whenever they did. And hearing it now, uttered when he wasn’t expecting it, had his heart clenching in his chest.

“We uh, we’ve been talking about me coming out to visit her for a few weeks now,” Karen continued slowly, her focus shifting back and forth between himself and Foggy as she spoke. “I know we all have–have missed her, but I also know you guys are too busy here to just disappear on a trip to LA. But I was hoping that…you both wouldn’t mind if I took a few days? To go see her? Get away from the cold weather here for a bit and take a break from all the stress these past few months have brought me?”

“How long are you thinking?” Foggy asked.

“Like…four or five days?” Karen nervously answered. “Basically a week?”

Matt could hear the way Foggy’s attention shifted to him across the room, his eyebrows raising. But he also could hear the way his own heart was rapidly pounding in his chest. He tried hard not to think about you too much, though admittedly he failed often at that. You were almost a near constant thought on his mind unless he was buried in work or busy as the Devil late at night.

He missed you. Every second of every day it felt like. He’d had absolutely no interest in trying to date since you’d left, always ridiculously hoping today would be the day you decided to come back to Hell’s Kitchen. But he knew you weren’t going to come back. From what he’d gathered from Karen and Foggy, you were enjoying the LA weather and your new job. You were doing good. And he was happy that you were, even if there was a sharp pain that physically shot through his chest whenever he thought about you.

He hadn’t heard from you since you moved, either. Matt hadn’t known what to make of that. He’d sent you a text, not wanting to overstep his boundaries by calling you, but also not wanting to just let you go from his life. But you’d never reached out to him after that. Not in the five months since you’d been gone. You spoke to Karen and Foggy every day, though. He knew there was a group chat that you three were always texting in, but Matt wasn’t a part of it. He did his best to try and not let it bother him, but it did. Because he still wanted to be someone in your life, but he felt like he’d finally told you that he loved you only just to lose you completely.

“What do you think, Matt?” Foggy asked, drawing him back to the moment. “I think we can manage a week without her, don’t you?”

Matt cleared his throat, thankful the glasses on his face were hiding the tears building in his eyes. He nodded quickly, his hands landing on his hips.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, his voice off even to his own ears. “When were you thinking of going, though?”

“Next week?” Karen asked hopefully.

“Oh,” Matt whispered.

“We should still be fine,” Foggy said quickly. “I don’t think this case will go on past this week, we’re nearing the end of it. So yeah, I say go have fun in LA. Say hi to our girl for us. Maybe even get her to do a video chat sometime because I haven’t seen her in forever and I miss her.”

Matt stood there, his fingers digging into his own hips uncomfortably. He missed the sound of your voice. Missed the scent of you. Missed the feel of you in his arms even if he could only ever seem to recall you crying in them lately.

“Yeah, we’ll–we’ll be fine,” Matt muttered, his mind still on thoughts of you.

“Okay, great!” Karen said, her tone bright as the nervous edge dissipated. “I have to run to my exam, but once I finish that I’m going to call her and get things figured out. Book a flight and all of that.”

“You deserve the time to relax!” Foggy told her. “You’ve been working your ass off!”

Matt was barely present as he wished Karen good luck and thanked her for lunch before she was leaving the office in an excited buzz. He longingly wished it was him getting to go see you in LA. He wished that you’d actually want him to come visit. He doubted you would.

The second Karen had left, Foggy hadn’t wasted a moment before going through the paper bag of food on her desk, digging out what Matt could easily tell was a meatball sub along with Matt’s usual turkey and avocado sandwich. Admittedly he didn’t have much of an appetite though, not after Karen had brought you up.

“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Foggy asked, cutting through the silence that had fallen in Karen’s absence. “You’ve got that sad puppy look on your face.”

Matt quickly cleared his throat again, shaking his head as he reached out, accepting the sandwich Foggy had offered to him.

“I do not have a sad puppy look,” he muttered.

“You do, but that’s not the point here,” Foggy countered. “Karen brought her up and now you’re thinking about her. It’s all over your face, Matt. You miss her.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Matt replied, turning and making his way back to his office.

“Yes it does!” Foggy snapped.

Matt stopped mid-step at Foggy’s unexpected outburst. His hand tightened around the sandwich, his teeth grinding together. He could feel the burn of tears in his eyes but he fought them down. He didn’t want to have this conversation again with Foggy. He was tired of it.

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated firmly. “We’ve been over this countless times, Fog. She made her choice. She knows how I feel and she’s never reached out to me. And she’s–she’s happy where she is now. So I’m happy for her. End of story.”

“ Call . Her ,” Foggy forcefully ordered.

Something snapped inside of Matt as he spun on his heel, a mixture of hurt and anger coursing through him. He focused on his best friend, his shoulders squared as the words flew from his lips.

“And tell her what , Fog?” Matt growled, voice low. “That I miss her? That I want her to come back to Hell’s Kitchen and be with me? That I fall asleep every night wishing she was there beside me instead of falling asleep in an empty bed night after night?” He took a step closer to Foggy, feeling the fight quickly falling out of his friend with the more he said. “Am I supposed to beg her, Fog? Guilt her? Pester her until she gives up what she wants? Is that what you want me to do?”

“No,” Foggy weakly replied, shaking his head. “No, Matt it’s not. But–”

Matt held up a hand, cutting his friend clean off. “No, Fog. She’s happy. She’s told you and Karen as much. And I–I love her,” he continued, the words coming out sounding as broken as Matt felt inside. “Which means I won’t ruin this for her. I’m not going to ask anything of her. She knows how I feel.”

“But what if she misses you, too?” Foggy questioned him earnestly. “What if she still loves you, Matt? What if she’s been in LA wondering why you haven’t reached out to her?”

“I reached out to her,” Matt countered.

“You sent her a text, Matt,” Foggy pointed out flatly. “ One text. You’ve never even tried to call her.”

“She’s never tried to call me,” Matt shot back. “She never even responded to my text, Fog. I told her I have loved her for years and she left me. She left . I think she made it quite clear what she wants.”

Matt heard Foggy drop his sandwich onto Karen’s desk, his heavy footfalls hurriedly making their way over to him. He tracked Foggy’s movements with his head, surprise jolting through him when Foggy grabbed onto the lapels of his suit coat with both hands firmly.

“I want you to listen to me loud and clear, man, because I’m tired of saying this to you,” Foggy began. “She’s been in love you with you for years , Matt. That does not go away over a few weeks or months! Call her !”

Matt’s lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to control his emotions. His throat felt like it was closing up on him; the subject of you always had this effect on him, even before he'd known you’d felt the same way.

“What if–” he began, stopping when he struggled to get the words to come out. “What if she’s moved on with someone else, Fog? What if she doesn't want me? What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

Foggy lightly shook Matt by the lapels of his suit coat as if he was trying to shake some sense into him. Matt frowned at the gesture immediately, but that didn't deter Foggy’s enthusiasm.

“But what if she hasn’t moved on to someone else?” Foggy countered. “What if she does want to talk to you, Matt? What if she’s still in love with you?”

“But I’m never going to move to LA,” Matt reminded his friend. “And she’s happy there. How would anything even work between us? Because I will not ask her to choose me, Fog. You know I won’t.”

“Maybe she would choose you because she wants to, buddy,” Foggy told him gently. “Just–just give it some thought, okay? Don’t wait another almost seven years to actually try with her. Because you’ll never know what could’ve been if all you do is keep playing this game of what if’s, Matt.”

Foggy’s words settled in Matt’s mind, the weight of them too heavy to ignore. Matt still felt uncertain though, because surely if you wanted him in your life you’d have tried to keep him there, right? But you hadn’t tried at all. So what did that mean?

Nodding solemnly back at Foggy, Matt said, “I’ll think about it. But I don’t want to burst into her life and ruin what she already has going on. If she’s been trying to move past this–past me –it’s better if I leave her alone and let her.”

Turning back around, Matt quietly ducked his head and made his way back to his office. A myriad of what if’s were in fact running through his mind as he closed the door behind himself. But as he made his way over to his chair behind his desk, settling into it, there was one question that kept repeating louder than the others.

What if he was misreading you again?

[END NOTES]

Yes! More end notes! Those of you who follow me on AO3 know how much I love them 😅

We get BOTH point of views in this installment! It's been about four/five months now since Reader has moved to LA as we see here and she is certainly out trying to live her best life, but as probably expected, she hasn't forgotten about Matt entirely. While she's been out having fun and quite a few one-night stands, she's quickly realizing she wants something serious. The pointless sex isn't cutting it for her. And Matt is apparently in Hell's Kitchen pining over Reader while she's gone, too. But...neither of them are talking to each other. And both are seemingly a bit too stubborn or scared to reach out. Even if their friends are trying to knock some sense into them. But Karen is soon on her way to visit Reader in LA, so maybe her visit and a certain video chat will help get these two talking again?

The next installment for this series is just over half written already, but I still have no title for it yet. I'm not sure how soon I'll post it, but we are very much nearing the comfort and happy parts of this series! And smut. I did promise eventual smut for this one.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock series #daredevil #daredevil angst

370 notes · View notes