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void-kissed · 2 years ago
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Your 3d artwork is so nice! What software do you use, and how do you get the models? I'm curious and wanna try it out if my computer can handle it
Ah! Thank you so much!! I’m really glad you like what I make, it means a lot ^-^
I use MMD, MikuMikuDance, to make my renders! There’s.. almost definitely other software that might be better to use, but I am a vocalsynth nerd so I latched onto MMD when I was younger and have since learned its idiosyncrasies somewhat. It's supposed to be used for making videos - you can even import Vocaloid .vsq files and get compatible models to automatically lip-sync to the song's lyrics! - but I use it more for generating static images. I work with models rather than drawing because that means the anatomy, design, and so on are always consistent (since I'm using the exact same physical models each time). In terms of what is needed to run MMD, the website LearnMMD should have that information alongside all the download links. But, since MMD as a program has been around since something like 2008, I don't think it's quite as demanding on computers as you might think, especially if you don't use tons of effects or lots of high-poly models in the same project!
When it comes to finding models, MMD can load the .pmd and .pmx formats (.pmx is generally better since it's more recent). There are lots of these models to be found on places like DeviantArt, and they often come in different sorts of "styles", such as Animasa and Tda and Sour - my self-inserts are based on the Tda style. Many pre-existing models from games have also been converted into this format, so it's not all just vocalsynths. You can edit MMD models, such as to put parts together or add collision physics, using the PMX editor; I probably spend more time in the editor (and an outdated version at that) than in the actual animation software, haha!
Here's an example of what the version of PMXe that I use looks like, with Citri's model as an example:
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And here's an example of how MMD's interface itself looks while working in it (for me, at least! You can move stuff around, and change interface colours, and make sure your model's display panes are actually all translated unlike mine, and all sorts):
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Sorry if this was a bit of a ramble, but, I hope it was alright! Thank you again for the ask!~
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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months ago
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AITA for playing music in my shared apartment?
🎵🎧 so I can find it
I live in a shared apartment with two other girls (L and S). It is a student apartment because we are all university students, but it's not provided by the school. Just an apartment complex that markets to students.
I've been with my boyfriend for almost a year, and he comes over on weekends sometimes and we hang out or go to dinner, do homework, and yes, have sex. I have tried to be the ideal roommate. I never use my speakers to play music, only headphones. I have shushed my boyfriend when he laughs super loud during TV shows. Meanwhile, both of my roommates have a habit of playing loud music, burning candles and incense, having half a dozen people over and doing karaoke super loud and late at night with the only warning "having some friends over later."
Last weekend, my roommate L allowed her friend over to work on their small business stuff in the common area (L was not at the apartment, she let the friend in and then went to work). The friend had the TV playing in the living room, and my boyfriend and I keep pretty quiet when we're having sex. I guess we were louder than we thought, because I got a text later from L basically reading me the riot act for making her friend uncomfortable and being inconsiderate. The friend seems nice, I didn't intend to make him uncomfortable. L also said that there have been several times that she or S have heard my boyfriend and I, and that it's "fucking nasty" and I need to be more considerate of the fact that we share a living space. I thought this was pretty hypocritical given that I am almost always super quiet because the walls are thin, and neither of them bothers to keep the noise down.
But I'm not trying to start a fight, so I told her I didn't realize we could be heard and I would make an effort to prevent it in the future.
So. Last night was Valentine's. (Wrote this when the ask box was closed lol) My boyfriend and I went out to dinner, spent some time playing a board game in my room, and then I turned on some music on my speakers, turned it up loud enough that it would have masked normal conversation volume, and we had sex. The music was loud enough that, unless we spoke directly into one another's ears or raised our voices, my boyfriend and I couldn't hear each other.
I got a furious text this morning because I only played music when it was obvious that we were banging, so that made it gross to L, like I was broadcasting what I was doing to the rest of the apartment. I told her that she should do what I did and buy some headphones, and otherwise she could decide whether she preferred to hear my music or to hear me getting laid.
She said I'm disgusting and to grow up.
On the one hand, it WAS obvious that I was playing the music to mask the sounds. I don't like music during sex, but I was trying to be considerate (even if I was pissed). I don't think that I should have to stop having sex in my own home that I pay for, especially when I am already making efforts to keep it pretty quiet. L seems to think that I shouldn't do it at all while someone is home, but S is almost ALWAYS home, and tbh, I don't think it's unreasonable to want to have some intimacy with my boyfriend in my own home, especially on Valentine's Day. But I'll admit, part of me felt pretty spiteful & vindicated when I started the music, so AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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feelmyskinonyourskin · 1 year ago
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Fight Club
Pairing: Matt Murdock x (AFAB)Reader (with platonic Frank Castle x Reader)
Summary: @hellskitchenswhore is killing it with the prompts lately. Per her request: Matt's freaking out thinking you might be cheating on him because for the last few weeks, you’ve been coming home smelling like Frank. What he doesn’t know is that you asked Frank to teach you how to fight and didn’t tell Matt.
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Warnings: 18+/SMUT. No use of Y/N. Female/AFAB reader (use of terms like girlfriend and female anatomy.) Established relationship. Brief mention of an active shooter at an office, Frank and Matt using pet names like sweetheart, mentions and accusations of cheating but no actual cheating, Unprotected sex, Fingering, P in V, Creampie, and Possessiveness from our dear Matt. Sort of getting caught after the fact.
Notes: I started taking kickboxing like three weeks ago, so I like to pretend that qualifies me to know what I'm talking about (It doesn't lol). So apologizes if I got any of the terminology wrong. UPDATE DEC 2023: I wrote an alternate ending to this fic that ends in a threeway with Frank that you can read here
WC: 5,000
*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*
“That’s it sweetheart, last round I promise.” Frank encourages you as you take swings at the bag in front of you. 
You’ve been at this for at least an hour and your arms feel like jello. You can’t remember the last time you were breathing this hard that wasn’t from Matt bending you in half. Jumping directly into the Hudson would have kept you drier than the amount of sweat currently pouring down your face and exhausted body.
“Atta girl, atta girl!” Frank praises as you take your last few swings, arms too weak to make any real movement of the bag
“Alright, you’re getting the hang of it now. Few more sessions and you’ll be out there with Red every night.”
“Pfft I don’t know about that, Frank. I’m just trying to make sure I can protect myself is all.”
“So remind me again why you didn’t ask him to teach you this?”
It started last week. One of your favorite coworkers was going through a bitter divorce and her estranged husband decided to confront her at the office and pulled a gun. You heard two shots ring out from your desk and feared the worst - all the active shooter situations you'd seen on TV were happening live in your life. Fortunately, as you fled for safety, Jerry from accounting was able to disarm and tackle the guy before he could hurt anyone thanks to his black belt in Jiujitsu.
Even though the incident ended okay, it had spooked you enough to get yourself some defense classes, for all those times when your vigilante boyfriend was too far uptown to protect you at a moment’s notice and Jerry wasn’t around to save the day.
Matt was always overprotective of you and you hated to think how he’d react to the incident, so you hadn’t told him. When the story hit the news, you lied (via text so he couldn’t detect it) and said it happened on a different floor and you didn’t even notice. 
You also didn’t tell him about your decision to learn self-defense. Matt was more than qualified to teach you, but for some reason, you just didn’t feel comfortable asking for his help with this. Maybe it was his propensity to throw himself into helping those he cared about, you especially, that gave you hesitation to give him another thing to prioritize over himself. Maybe it was just how good he was at fighting that made you not want to “be a beginner” in front of him (not that Matt would ever judge you about anything.)
In fairness to you, you hadn’t intended to learn it from his frenemy and former client, but you’d showed up at the boxing gym near your work and the gruff men inside intimidated you so much, you bolted out the door before signing up for a class, tears welling in your eyes when you quite literally bumped into Frank on the street.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, nodding towards the door of the boxing gym
“I thought… Look I want to learn how to fight. Or at least how to defend myself. This place is close to work but um… might not be the right fit for me.”
“Why don’t you just ask Red?”
“It’s a long story,” you replied with a sigh “but I really don’t want to ask him. Or for him to even know about it. So can you please not mention you saw me here or we had this conversation?”
“Okay, can I ask why not?”
“You can but I’m not gonna answer.” 
Frank chuckled and shook his head
“Well if you want to learn to fight, this isn’t the best place. I know Vinny the owner and he’s a shit teacher. But if you want to learn for real, I’m happy to teach you.”
“What? Wait really? Wait, Frank you know how to fight?”
“Sweetheart, I was a Marine for over 15 years, ‘course I know how to fight.”
“And you’d do that for me?”
“Course. You’re Red's girl. What times’ he leave for his little night job?”
“9:00”
“Great, meet me here at 9:30. Tonight.”
And that was how you ended up here, collapsing on the gym mat beneath you with a groan.
“Not bad for your first time. We just gotta get you in the habit of resetting your hands after every hit, and you’ll be golden” Frank praises again
“Oh yeah, I forgot, always protect the face so I don’t end up lookin like you.” you jest
“Ouch” he feigns hurt with a smirk on his face “Red teach you to swing low like that?”
“Nah Castle, that’s all me. It’s part of why he loves me. Same time tomorrow?”
“Sure. See you then.”
By the time Matt returns home, you’re showered and in bed, sore muscles pulsing every time you twist and turn in your sleep. Between the smell of sweaty clothes in the hamper and the scent of your freshly washed skin rubbing against silk sheets, plus the heat radiating off your sore muscles as he crawls into bed silently beside you, Matt figures it out pretty quickly.
‘She started going back to the gym. Hmm. Have to ask her about that in the morning.’ he thinks as he drifts off beside you.
You awake in the morning to gentle hands rubbing at your back. 
“Mmm morning Matty” you mumble, still pulling yourself out of sleep
“Morning sweetheart.”
“What are you doing?” you ask as he works a little lower down your spine
“Giving you a massage. I can tell you’re sore. When did you start going back to the gym?”
“Just yesterday. And you’re right I’m super sore. Thank you, this is a nice way to start my day.”
“Of course sweetheart. What gym did you go to? Did you have fun?” he inquires
His innocent prodding has you waking fully quickly, trying to cover your tracks without outright lying and getting caught.
“Oh this gym near work. Couple people in the office recommended it. And yeah I had fun.” 
All truths.
“That’s nice. Mmmm do you want to start the coffee or shower first?” he asks, seemingly letting the subject go
Perfect.
As you rush around to get ready for work, Matt grabs the laundry hamper from the bathroom, walking it over to the washing machine. Your dirty workout clothes from the night before sit on top, now less potent that they have completely dried. But he can’t help but feel like something smells off.
Sure it smells like you - natural scent mixed with your fading sweat, but there’s something else. Something familiar. A very subtle hint of spiciness mixed with… is that gunpowder? 
‘Weird’ Matt thinks to himself, but brushes it off a moment later, the smell not strong enough to really garner more than a passing thought.
But three times he does the laundry in a row, he smells it. It’s so subtle, he might not even give it another thought, but it’s just so damn familiar. 
It takes another week for him to ask you about it.
“Hey sweetheart, you’ve been going to the gym a lot lately,” he mentions over dinner 
“Mmmhmm. Yeah, can you feel my muscles growing? I’m feeling stronger.” you reply
“Yeah. What exactly are you doing at the gym? It’s really working.”
“Oh a little cardio, a little strength, you know…” you skirt around, being intentionally vague
“That’s good. Is it like a class or?”
“Um sort of. Just this guy at the gym, he’s been helping me. You know, walking me through the exercises.” 
Also technically the truth.
“That’s good. Well, I’m glad you found something you like.”
‘Okay, so that guy must smell like this. She’s close enough to him in a warm sweaty gym, so there’s a little bit on her clothes. Makes sense.’ Matt thinks to himself. But he still can’t shake the feeling that that smell is so familiar.
Two weeks later, Matt is out on patrol when he hears a familiar heartbeat on the fire escape a few floors down from where he’s perched.
Frank.
“You just gonna sit there all night, listinin’ Red?” Frank asks
“Very funny Frank.” Matt says, hopping down to Frank’s level
“Haven’t seen you in a while” Matt comments
“Been busy. Madani’s been usin’ me more.”
“Oh don’t tell me you’re going legit Frank.”
“Not a shot in hell, Red. But gotta pay the bills somehow.”
And then a strong breeze blows. Frank’s signature blend of sweat, aftershave, and metallic mixed with gunpowder from all the weapons he handles overwhelms Matt’s nose. Matt cocks his head in confusion. It’s so damn familiar. But of course it is, it’s Frank. How many times has Matt been on a rooftop with him like this, bs-ing the night away while monitoring the city?
After catching up for a bit, they go their separate ways, the rest of Matt’s evening turning uneventful.
He returns home to you shortly after 3 am, your soft breathing as you sleep calms him as he strips off his suit. 
You hadn’t met with Frank tonight. He said something about following a lead and you were perfectly fine with that, you needed an off day. 
Matt curls up in bed beside you, resting his head on your back and falling asleep quickly.
The next night, Frank is really putting you through your paces and you swear you’re ready to collapse when he finally calls it for the night. 
Per usual, Frank offers to walk you home when you’re done and for the first time since you started coming here, you accept the offer since you stayed a bit later than usual tonight. At least until you can make it to Hell’s Kitchen and within range of Matt. 
You and Frank make small talk as you go and eventually, the chill of the autumn air has you shivering in your still-damp-from-sweat workout clothes. 
“Here sweetheart,” Frank says with a lopsided smirk, slinging his worn jacket over your shoulders. 
“Thank you Castle. Always a gentleman.”
“Course, ‘specially for Red’s girl.”
You make it to 35th and 10th, close enough to home and hand his jacket back to him, parting ways with a nod and a polite “goodnight.”
The later hour coupled with the particularly intense session has you collapsing into bed without even removing your shoes, let alone your gym clothes.
When Matt returns a few hours later, the smell hits him like a truck. 
‘I swear to god Frank, if you’re bleeding on my couch again…’ Matt thinks to himself. 
But when he enters the apartment the only heartbeat he can hear is yours. He inches slowly toward the bedroom and rolls the door open gently. He reaches down to feel the soft lycra of your leggings on your body, careful not to stir you from your slumber. The smell of your sweat clinging to your clothes fills his senses, way more potent than normal plus that other scent you’re bringing home from the gym. Matt pauses to wonder why he thought Frank was here but then it hits him. 
Oh my god. The mystery smell from the gym you’ve been bringing home is Frank. 
But how could you smell like… 
And then the gears in his head start turning. And he feels like a goddamn idiot. 
You had been going to the gym. But not to work out. You were cheating. With Frank of all people. And you’d made the critical error of not showering when you got home. 
Matt begins to pace the apartment, rubbing at his chin as his thoughts move a million miles a minute about what to do. 
Did he confront you? Did he confront Frank?! What should he even say?
The sun rises and he’s still pacing and contemplating when his alarm rings out. He shuts it off before it can wake you too. He needs more time to think about his next move. He gets ready for work quietly and slips out the door before you awake. 
You find it odd you haven’t heard from Matt all day. When you woke up you saw his Devil suit in a heap in the living room and there was no damage to it or blood on it. So you knew he had come home and was relatively okay. But it was so odd for him to leave without a goodbye kiss or go this long in the day without so much as a text. But he had been busy with a heavy caseload lately. You finally break shortly after lunch and text him first. 
“Hey Matty. Know you’re busy but I miss you and I love you. Dinner tonight?”
“Can’t. Working late. Don’t wait up.” He responds
That was… oddly curt. But again you figure he’s stressed and busy. 
Matt on the other hand has been wracked with stress all day. It only took an hour of his constant pacing and fidgeting for Foggy to break and finally ask.
“Matt. What’s up?”
“I think… I think I’m being cheated on.” Matt confesses. He leaves the Frank part out of the equation, wanting Foggy to be as objective as possible about his response. 
“What could possibly make you think that?”
“She’s been going to the gym like every night for a month now right when I leave for patrol and she came home last night smelling like… another man. And she’s been smelling like it a little the whole month but last night it was all over her”
“So did you ask her?”
“Well no but…” 
“Matt you are literally a human lie detector and yet here you are jumping to conclusions instead of doing the rational thing and just asking her.”
And maybe Matt would have taken Foggy’s advice if he thought you were just cheating with your gym trainer. But this was Frank. And that made it all the more complicated. 
Matt decides finally what he’s going to do. He’s going to follow you tonight, catch you in the act and confront both of you together.  
Matt still hadn’t come home when you depart for your nightly workout session, but little did you know he’s there. Pacing on the roof, waiting for you to leave. As soon as he hears the lobby door shut behind you, he springs in to action, taking the stairs two at a time into the apartment and changing out of his lawyer suit and into his devil suit as quickly as possible, making sure not to lose your heartbeat now a block and a half away. He makes up for the lost distance quickly and is practically on top of you by the time you enter the gym. 
“Hey Frank” you call out as you enter
“Hey. I’ll be over in a second.” he replies from the locker rooms
Matt crouches down by the side of the building, just close enough to the windows to hear everything going on inside. 
You’re almost done wrapping your hands when Frank emerges from the locker room. 
“Alright let’s start with our usual, then you can have a go at me again.”
“I don’t know Frank. You really wore me out last night. I woke up still in my clothes and shoes.”
Matt knew it. He fucking knew it. 
“Tough shit sweetheart,” Frank responds with a chuckle. “And what did your boyfriend think about that huh? He got any idea what we’re doing here yet?”
“Honestly I don’t know. I didn’t see or hear from him at all today. Which is weird even for him. And no I don’t think he’s figured it out yet.”
“You’re gonna have to tell him eventually”
“No, I don’t”
“So what you’re just gonna keep sneakin’ around, becoming a prize fighter without him gettin’ suspicious? Shit even a regular guy would raise some alarm bells by now, but especially Red and all his … shit”
“Frank, I am not here trying to become a prize fighter. I’m just trying to get strong enough to defend myself if he’s not around to do it. That’s all”
Matt’s heart drops. 
How could he possibly think you were cheating? And with Frank of all people. He felt like an idiot. Like a total asshole. Sure you had lied, well, technically withheld the truth and he’s sure you’ll explain why. And he’s hurt if you wanted to learn to fight that you didn’t come to him.  But this was not nearly as egregious a stain on your relationship as he thought it was. 
“I don’t know. Think you should tell him. Show him your moves. Shit, you’ve gotten a couple good hits on me these last few days I’m sure you could give Red a run for his money.” 
“I am not fighting Matt, Francis.” You say with an eye roll
Matt listens for the next hour as Frank talks you through a few hitting drills, then the two of you sparring. Frank is clearly taking it easy on you, but Matt is still impressed by what he could tell of what you were doing. He absolutely would need to take you on to really gauge your skills. 
Franks's phone rings out just as you’re cooling down with some stretches. 
He answers and speaks for a few minutes. 
“Alright sorry to jet out of here but Madani has somethin urgent for me. You good to get home alright?”
“Yeah, thanks Frank. See you tomorrow.”
Frank gives you a fist bump and then disappears through the front door. Matt uses the opportunity to sneak in just before the door slams closed behind Frank. 
You’re sitting on the floor undoing your wraps as he finally speaks up. 
“If you wanted to opportunity to hit Frank, I’m sure I could have arranged it some other way”
Your spine goes icy cold at the sound of the voice behind you. 
“Matt… I” you stumble to explain. 
“It’s okay sweetheart,” Matt says, hands up in surrender before reaching up to remove his mask
“What are you doing here?” You ask, ready for him to chew you out for your little secret. 
“Alright if I’m honest, do you promise you’ll be honest?” He asks
“Yes.”
“I followed you here because I thought you were cheating. With Frank. And I know now that’s not what’s happening. And I’m sorry for not just asking you.” He confesses with a sigh
“Oh Matt. I’m so sorry that I did anything to make you think that. That’s not at all what’s happening here.”
“I know. Been listening all night so I know. But I have to know why. Why are you doing this and why didn’t you tell me? And Frank? Really?”
“It’s a long story. Can I tell you while we walk home?”
And so you do. By the time you make it home to your apartment, you’ve come clean about the incident at work and running into Frank and how he’d been coaching you the last few weeks, and why you were so hesitant to ask Matt to be the one to do it.
Matt is oddly quiet through your explanation but nods as you speak. He finally speaks up just as you’re unlocking the front door. 
“I forgive you. And I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t ask me. But now that I know, I am curious…”
“You want to see how much I’ve learned?”
He nods enthusiastically 
“Fine. I guess since now you know you can join us tomorrow. If you want.”
“Perfect, I’ll be there”
He tucks you in to bed with a gentle kiss before heading out on patrol again, no longer clouded by doubts about your relationship. 
When you arrive at the gym the next night, Matt is already there, looking extra adorable in his gray sweatpants and messy hair. 
It’s all so familiar to him - the buzz of the fluorescent lights, the smell of sweat and heat, the gym mat sticking beneath his bare feet with every step. Just like Fogwells when he was a kid. He feels at home here.
“Hey sweetheart” he greets you with a kiss
“Hey Matty” you can’t help but smile whenever you see him after a long day “Frank texted me, he’s running late, but um do you want to help me warm up?”
Matt’s face lights up with excitement. “Yes. Okay. What does Frank normally have you do?”
“Two rounds of jab crosses on the bag. Three minutes each.”
“Okay, have at it”
You wrap your hands and begin hitting the bag. Not even thirty seconds in, Matt speaks up.
“Woah woah woah. Frank has been letting you hit like this and not correcting your form?”
“Yes. Wait, what the hell is wrong with my form?”
“You’re too far away from the bag. I can hear your shoulder joint rubbing every time you jab, which means you’re over-extending that left arm. Makes you put way too much energy into each hit, you’re gonna wear yourself out way faster. Here. Step closer.”
Matt moves behind you to help you correct your position, then lets you take a few more punches.
“See? More power, less effort.”
“Yeah. Any other pointers?”
Matt places his hands on your shoulders and places his feet right beside yours, pressing his body tight against your back. You never thought of boxing as particularly erotic, especially not with Frank teaching you. But with Matt’s breath against your ear, you can’t help but feel a chill run down your spine straight to your core.
“Go ahead, gimme a few more, I want to feel how your body moves. See just what else Frank has been teaching you wrong.”
“Matt…” the words die on your lips. You want to speak up and defend how kind Frank has been these past few weeks to spend the time to teach you, but Matt’s sweet whisper of encouragement has you forgetting anything else but him.
“C’mon sweetheart, don’t get all shy on me. You hesitate like this for Frank?”
“N..no.” you stutter, then weakly throw out a few more punches
Matt chuckles, knowing just how much he’s winding you up with so little. 
“Put a little more power behind them. Don’t let me being here hold you back.”
You try to do as he says and throw some real hits, but Matt is still pressed right against you.
God, his body is warm usually, but being flush behind you as you move and hit, he practically feels like white-hot iron against you. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and it’s not just from the few minutes of warming up you’ve done. You know Matt can hear it and is going to play you like a fiddle. His own wicked form of punishment for not telling him about your training.
His hands drop from your shoulders, running down your back lightly and coming to rest on your hips. He plants a soft kiss right under your ear.
“You’ve been working hard. Maybe Frank does know what he’s doing.”
He places a second kiss a little lower down your neck.
“You throw any actual punches at him yet?” he asks
“A few. Landed some of them too.”
A third, fourth, and fifth kiss down your neck, working his way toward your shoulder. His stubble is coarse against your skin, sending goosebumps across your flesh, your toes curling into the squishy mat beneath you.
“Mmm that’s my girl.” he says, as he begins sucking on your neck, his right hand snaking around to your front, tickling at the top of your leggings.
“Matty” you chastise
“What?” he feigns ignorance
“Matthew. Do not start something you can’t finish. Frank will be here any minute.”
“You said he’d be late.”
“His text said ‘a few minutes’ and that was already several minutes ago.”
“Well I can’t hear his heartbeat yet, so we’ve got at least five.”
You want to protest more, you really do, but you just can’t resist Matt. 
Laughing low, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his steady breath against your exposed skin a stark contrast to the growing labor of your exhales. You spread your legs a little wider. He takes the invitation and reaches his hand fully into your leggings, using a finger to circle your sensitive bud.
You throw your head back onto his chest with a moan, his name falling from your lips in a breathy whisper.
He continues to suck on your neck as works at your core, finally sliding a finger inside you, then another.
You reach forward to grab the boxing bag for stability, Matt’s touch causing you to writhe enough that you’re not sure you’re able to stay standing without it. As you thrash against him, he inhales deeply, a mix of your natural scent and your arousal consuming his lungs. 
In order to get you exactly where he wants you, he keeps a quick pace, knowing he does not have a lot of time. His rhythm never falters, stroking you over and over in that perfect spongy spot inside you. It’s not long before you're coming apart with a cry of his name.
Just as your head stops spinning and you’re returning to earth, Matt is turning you around and connecting his lips with yours. So hungry to have you, he guides you back a few steps, never breaking his lips from yours, and pushes you against the wall behind you.
His kisses grow more and more desperate, sending an electric tingle down your spine, though that could also be because the wall behind you is made of mirrors and the glass is cool against the heated skin not protected by your sports bra.
As soon as you make contact with the wall, his hands are back on your hips, pushing your leggings and panties down in a heap on the sticky mat beneath you. His clothes soon follow.
You throw your leg up and around his hip, opening yourself to him. An offer he quickly accepts. A soft gasp simultaneously escapes both your lips, the relief between the two of you as he guides himself slowly into your wet and eager core until he’s fully sheathed inside you. Restless fingers reach down to wrap your other leg around him, now fully holding you in the air against the mirrored wall behind you. 
He repeats the pace of his fingers only moments ago and slams into you harshly and quickly, over and over again, desperate to feel you release around him again, knowing Frank could appear at any moment. 
God, your familiar warm heat is absolute perfection, he thinks as he continues to bury himself into you over and over again. You’re still incredibly worked up from your previous climax and it takes just a few thrusts for you to be close again. The way your body is clamping around him and tensing lets him know just how close to ecstasy you are again.
Matt leans forward and you can feel his quickening breath against your ear once more.
“Damnit sweetheart, you scared me so bad. Made me think I was sharing you with someone else.” he grunts as he continues to drive his hips against yours.
“No Matty. I’m yours. Only yours — oh God. I promise.” you whimper back, arching into him further.
“Good. But to make sure you don’t forget, I’m gonna cum inside you, right now and every single night before you leave. So I’m dripping out of you after every hit, every kick. No matter how much Frank trains you. So you remember exactly who. You. Belong to.” he growls lowly against your skin, pushing you even more firmly against the cool glass with every thrust.
“Yes. Please Matt — Fuck. I’m all yours. I promise. Please.”
He thrusts one more time before he cums with a rumble of your name, his arms tightening around you, holding you impossibly close as he releases inside you just as he promised.
As he grinds against you in just the right way to hit that perfect spot one more time, your own orgasm sweeps over you. Your nails dig into his back, holding on to him as you let go, his harsh thrusts now slowed just enough so he can keep the both of you upright.
He feels you release, causing a final low groan from him, slowing down his pace, as your molten pleasure fades away. Still consumed by him and the feel of him holding you close, you lean your head back to rest against the mirror behind you as you catch your breath. Just as you feel like fully slumping against him, he sets you down gently.
You don't even really register him pulling away from you until he speaks. 
“Might want to put your pants back on. Frank’s a block away and I don’t think you want him to know how I warmed you up before he got here.”
You open your eyes and see that Matt is already dressed, a smirk painted across his face as he listens to you scramble to put your clothes on.
Just as you’re adjusting your leggings back in to place, Frank and his large frame enter the gym.
“Hey –” he pauses at the sight of you and Matt in front of him, both sweaty and still panting a little.
“Hmmm. Guess Red knows now.” Frank grumbles
But then his eyes go wide.
“You wanna tell me what that’s about?” he asks with a point of his finger.
You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you turn behind you to see what he’s asking about. The mirror is covered in smudges that look vaguely like the outline shape of your body.
“We don’t talk about what happens at fight club…” Matt jokes as you bury your face in your hands in embarrassment.
My Masterlist
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memories-of-ancients · 5 months ago
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Early American Presidential Elections Were Way Different Than They Are Today
It's election season again, boy it sure is. I can tell because I now get daily texts from Joe Biden asking for money which is interesting because I never gave him my phone number and Trump has been sending me enough ads through the mail that it clutters my mail box if I don't empty it more than once a week. So in celebration of this great competition between two philosopher kings and elder statesmen I wish to detail how different presidential elections were in the opening decades of the United States compared to today. And I can tell you, elections back then were totally different, almost unrecognizeable.
First, most people could not vote. Early American elections were not democratic by any means. Of course women couldn't vote, so automatically half the population was ineligible by that fact alone. Also men who belonged to a minority groups couldn't vote. However, if you were a white man, odds were you were still ineligible to vote. All of the states had wealth and property requirements for voting, which made it so that the only men who were eligible to vote were wealthy white males. As a result, until the 1830's only around 2-3% perhaps 5% at most of all people were eligible to vote.
Secondly, you did not directly vote for the president at all. Presidents were not even listed on ballots. When you went to vote, you voted for your state's electors, the presidents weren't even listed on the ballot. In George Washington's diary entry for Jan 7th, 1789 he wrote that he voted for "Doctor Blackburn and Colonel Stuart", who were the electors he voted for in his district. The following is a surviving ticket from the 1789 Maryland Presidential election held by the Smithsonian ...
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This was of course if you lived in a state where popular vote was used in presidential elections. According to the US Constitution it's up to the states to determine how electors are chosen. At the time many electors were chosen by state legislatures, or appointed by state governors. In the very first election (1789), only Maryland and Virginia used popular vote to choose electors. Incredibly New York failed to appoint electors altogether! In the next election, (1792), Massachusetts and Pennsylvania tagged on. Gradually other states did the same until by 1830 most states used popular vote to decide elections. The results are goofy looking popular vote maps like this (election of 1796), the gray areas being places where popular vote was not used, or there were not enough wealthy white men to vote.
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Today we still use the Electoral College to elect the president, although there is a pretense of direct elections. When voting for president you are actually still voting for your state's electors, but it's generally agreed and expected that if your state's majority votes for a certain candidate, the electors will likewise vote for that candidate. And of course popular vote is used in every state to choose electors, for a state to do otherwise would be a national scandal even though it would be technically constitutional.
Finally, president and vice president were not on the same ticket. Today, for example, if you voted for Joe Biden, you are also voting for Kamala Harris as vice president. Until the passage of the 12th Amendment in 1804 the way it worked was the candidate who was runner up became vice president. So today if we used the same system, Joe Biden would be president, and Donald Trump would be vice president. Likewise in the previous administration, Donald Trump would be president, and Hillary Clinton would be vice president. I suggest we repeal the 12th Amendment.
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callipraxia · 7 months ago
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Further Interview Analysis: the "Ford Plan," and Bill's Blind Spot
I didn’t sleep again the night after the “musical Weirdmageddon” post, and wrote a lot of loopy stuff the next day, and posted none of it. But then I slept, so yay, time for an attempt at some actual analysis! Original interview is, as before, here, with credit and thanks to @fordtato and @hkthatgffan.
"I think that Bill was trying to find Ford, but I think- I always think of Bill as like, this guy who has, like - you know, he’s stirring the pot of soup that is the Ford plan, and he’s got like 900 pots of soup across the universe of different things he’s working on, and at any given moment, he’s so cocksure that it’s all gonna work his way eventually."
Bill’s a trillion years old, so it’s like, Ford disappearing for thirty years is like- [snaps fingers] is like somebody saying they’re ghosting you and then texting you the next weekend, you know what I mean? He’s like- he’s like [handwave] “Ford’s gonna- Ford’s gonna be back. Ohh, [air quotes] we had such a big fight, Ford’s sooo mad at me,” oh, you know, “our will-they-won’t-they-take-over-the-universe relationship, like, he’s gonna- he’s gonna march off in a huff, and he’ll be back, ‘cause we’re- is Ford gonna find anyone else in the multiverse that strokes his ego as well as me?” Is there anybody else in the universe that’s gonna make Ford feel as important as Bill? No, of course not, Ford needs validation, and so Bill knows Ford’s gonna be back eventually. 
...so, Bill still had a "Ford plan," did he? Like, some active plan that involved using Ford in some way to escape the Nightmare Dimension? Interesting.
I always interpreted his cliche-villain-gloating routine when Ford confronts him about being a liar as the point where Bill was ready to discard Ford altogether. If he had wanted to - if he could have been bothered - after all, he probably would have had a very high chance of somehow manipulating Ford out of the realization that he'd been played: Ford had been literally worshiping Bill a few days earlier. He was basically a cultist, and he was not only someone who'd spent way too long talking to Bill, he was also someone who could only confront Bill on Bill's turf, so to speak. But Bill didn't even try to turn it all around, because (ran my reasoning) he'd gotten what he really needed: the Portal existed, and you can't close Pandora's box. The technology was there. It would not, from Bill's trillions-of-years perspective, have taken very long to find some way to manipulate someone else into rebuilding the Portal once it existed even given Ford's attempts to hide the plans. Bill was scribbling on the Journal in invisible ink after Ford's last entry, before he buried it but after he wrote all about his plans in some detail, even drawing a map to J2. The Journal separation plan would have been laughably easy for Bill to work around. So at that point, I assumed that the only reason Bill didn't arrange for Ford to - if I may be blunt - kill himself the first time he blacked out was because Bill was basically getting off on the psychological torture and wanted to see how long he could keep it going/enjoy himself until Ford literally died of exhaustion. Ford certainly seems to think he'd have been killed if he had lost the game of 'hide and seek' in the asteroid field. I thought the idea that "Bill used Ford until he used him up, and now he was done with him" was basically canon, and that Bill paid no more attention to him from that point onward than you would pay to a broken Solo cup in the trash until Ford did something unexpected - ie, survived the Multiverse, came back with a death ray, apparently took out a few Henchmaniacs, almost shot Bill himself, and then survived the experience.
But here we have what I suppose amounts of authorial commentary which seems to directly contradict the idea that Bill didn't even regard Ford was worth finding and/or killing. Bill was looking for Ford, all those years - not all that intently, apparently, or really very long from Bill's point of view, of course, but still - and Bill still had a plan for Ford. Bill also, if I'm reading that right, seems to have really just expected Ford to come back, of his own free will, to join him eventually, not to kill him.
Of course, it's possible I'm reading that wrong, and Bill just knew that killing him would also give Ford a massive ego boost and that Ford would have to eventually reenter his orbit in order to attempt to do so. It's also true that Bill just not being able to accept rejection in no way, by itself, implies he wasn't planning to go "hahahaha, no" and kill Ford fifteen seconds after he finished begging Bill for forgiveness. But the 'Ford plan' bit seems to undermine that. Let's assume the hesitations and half-sentences are Hirsch improvising, not Bill actually cutting off a thought he might not like the end of. So was Bill genuinely never planning to kill Ford after he bumbled into the Nightmare Realm back in '82? And if not - what in the world was he planning to do to him once one of the Henchmaniacs caught him, then? And why do I have the feeling that whatever it was would have made murder seem both a) kind and b) not at all disturbing by comparison?
Also gives us, in a way, some insight into Bill. Kinda. We've always known that there's this...level, this very deep, seldom-relevant but very important level, on which Bill doesn't quite understand how people work. We see it primarily in the mistakes that Bill makes with Stan and Mabel. Maybe there was nothing he could have said or done in the situation with Stan to save himself, Stan had reached the point of literally suicidal determination and there's really not much you can do to budge someone at that point and especially not once their consciousness has already caught fire, but with Mabel - in Sock Opera, all Bill needed to do to win was keep his mouth shut for three more seconds. He was clever enough to see how Dipper and Mabel's relationship could be exploited to get Dipper to do what he wanted, but he did the exact opposite of what he should have done to get Mabel to do what he wanted, because for one thing he underestimates Mabel and for another...it comes back to that elusive Thing that Bill can't or won't understand about the deeper levels of humans. Or maybe it's Things, plural, and a distinct one for each person, but there's something there at the bottom of the personality that Bill apparently can't jive with.
With Ford, for instance, he clearly underestimates the power of genuine self-hatred and remorse. Bill may feel bad in some way about what he did to his homeworld, but look at the actual words of the Axolotl's prophecy: he feels that way not because he has realized at some point that what he did was fundamentally wrong, but because he wants to go home and can't. Essentially, his regret is for his own inconvenience. And in a lot of ways, I can see how that could have translated into him feeling he did, in fact, know all he needed to know to push Ford's buttons, because while it's never spelled out for us, it seems, based on his habit of carrying around family photographs on his person apparently since college despite not getting on well at all with his family, that there was maybe some tiny part of Ford that also wanted to "go home," and not just to flip off the town. Ford was also someone who deeply feared the consequences of his actions, if you read between the lines in the Journal - his worries about a 'Close Encounter' with the government, his scrawling that he must not lose his nerve on some early Portal notes, his talking more and more about Fiddleford losing his nerve in a way that starts seeming kind of projection-y - and Bill could certainly understand that fear perfectly well: we see Bill panic outright in the finale when he realizes he's out of options he's going to remotely like. In the unlikely event Stan would or even could save him, Stan obviously wouldn’t have done so so on Bill's own terms: Bill would have been stuck making an honest deal for once, or else left with the options of "die" and "take a one-in-a-million shot and do his invocation of the 'Ancient Power,' possibly putting himself squarely into the hands of an enemy whose full aims he probably does not know." But then, that's Bill's flaw - the things that drove him to become what he did were revenge and the fear of Death, of the ultimate loss of control. His arrogance makes him think he can take most any situation, no matter how disadvantageous it might seem, and twist it around sooner or later, but Death - well, that's it, ain't it? Or, as Horace might say in a really old translation:
When life is o'er, and Minos has rehearsed The grand last doom, Not birth, nor eloquence, nor worth, shall burst Torquatus' tomb.
(Horace, Ode 4.7. The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace. John Conington. trans. London. George Bell and Sons. 1882.)
Bit different from most translations I've read, but close enough and in the public domain I believe, so we'll go with that. It's possible that Bill's...unique...state of existence may actually make dying an even more terrifying prospect for him than it for the rest of us. He became what he was to escape limitations, including mortality - but after all that killing and burning and transformation, he found out that he might not ever die, but that he could still be destroyed. And even when he found his own 'territory', it started decaying around him, which proved that dimensions, too, can die even if nobody is apparently actively trying to destroy them. What happens to him then? That's what he's afraid of, and he cannot quite grasp that others might be able to overcome that fear in service of either another principle or another fear. That's where he keeps running into trouble in the series timeline, too. It never occurred to him that Gideon might have enough humanity to want Mabel to actually care about him, instead of just about possessing her - much less that Gideon could want that enough to risk death for it. It was inconceivable to him that Dipper and Mabel could voluntarily turn their backs on even a blatantly false paradise to willingly walk into a living hell, just because it was the right thing to do. And as for Ford and Stan....
Well, on one level, he's right about Ford. When he met Ford, they did have certain things in common: frustration, ambition, deep and secret regrets, loneliness, and fear of facing the consequences. Ford's desire for respectability and honor from those who had rejected him his whole life may have extended this even further for him than it went for Bill in some ways: he couldn't even admit to himself that what he was doing was totally self-interested, whereas Bill, like Stan, has long since come to terms with his own selfishness. And like Bill, Ford probably didn't even have the ability to see that no matter what he did, it would never be enough, and would never really satisfy him. But death? Ford doesn't fear death. Never really has, as far as I can tell, but he certainly doesn't now. The way he lives his life, the man might as well be courting death - sending it roses every week and buying all its drinks at the bar, so to speak. He and Bill both fear the consequences of their actions, but 'consequences' are a category, and it's just as possible to be afraid to live as it is to be afraid to die. And Stan...Stan is harder to be sure of. Certainly Stan's priority is always for self-preservation. He's probably depressed to some degree, and he will risk life and limb without hesitation when he perceives a threat to that which he loves, but that's something that usually happens in a crisis. He doesn't hesitate because he doesn't think about what he's doing, which is what makes the Final Deal such an incredible gesture for me - he not only had plenty of time to think about what was going to happen, but he had to actively take steps himself to enable it to happen. To me, at least, that seems the hardest thing...but then, the whole situation in the Fearamid is one that brings to mind some of my worst fears, to the point that I find the scene difficult to watch and I almost scrapped an entire 22,000-word story once just because it required me to write about a small part of it. I'm sure Bill risked death, in some fashion, to become what he is, and I'm sure he was afraid of failure every time - but he was less afraid of a bad outcome that might come from leaping at the chance for some semblance of life, any semblance of life, no matter what that might look like or how long the odds might be, than he was of doing what he knew would lead to...wherever even destructible gods go, when they go. This is why the Stans were the thing he couldn't account for, really. He couldn't conceive of having a priority higher than self-preservation, of overcoming his worst fear - and that was what destroyed him. Maybe, anyway.
It's sort of funny, actually - I started writing a completely different post yesterday about how to develop a new character based on some of Hirsch's remarks, and in the course of it, I made the remark that I found it hard to fathom how you could write any of Gravity Falls, at all, without knowing ahead of time that it is the story of (if I can make so bold as to quote my own story's dialogue) "the Faustus of New Jersey and His Knucklehead Brother and the Hazard Sign From Hell," and without at least a fairly good understanding of who those three people are and how they got there. If one looks at the story that way, I suppose you could say the events after their starting situation are also the story of these three being thrown up against the places where their real deepest fears lie, and seeing who has something he really, really will not compromise on...or at least, it did at the start of this paragraph. But did any of them, really? Bill blatantly fails that test, of course - Bill runs, just like he's been, in a way, running for his entire miserable existence. Ford comes close to what might have been a couple of breaking experiences for him - either surrendering to Bill or, had the memory wipe worked the way he thought it would, with living with whatever the fallout of essentially killing his brother would have been - but the universe was kind and stacked the deck just enough to let him cheat his way out of that one, at least for the most part. But what about Stan? He didn't want to die, but we already knew that he'd risk it for the kids, because we've seen him do that before. The way he went about it this time arguably took more courage than the others, when he just went in swinging at an immediate and obvious threat, but it was still an escalation on an established thing. Stan's real worst fear isn’t death - it’s of being alone again, of losing his family. That's the principle that overrides self-preservation for him. What would have happened if he'd been in Ford's shoes - required to take up the role not of the sacrifice, but of the one who performed it, giving up one member of the family to save the others? Could he have done that?
...though that is wandering from the topic I was originally talking about, isn't it. Which was that yeah, Bill is, in his way, as fallible as anyone else despite his immense resources - which is gonna be a fun topic to get into when I get around to the post in this series about writing higher intelligences, but that's also not the point, which was that Ford was never going to go back to Bill the way Bill thought he was, because Bill's inability to understand other people's ability to do things that he can't is a serious blind spot for him. It's the thoughts he can't have that doom him (probably...hopefully, anyway...), fortunately for the rest of us.
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traumxrei-archive · 2 years ago
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【 at the end of a day. 】
'i hope my own shoulders, and thick hands will become your comfort at the end of a tiring day. you did a good job, you worked so hard.' (ft. leona kingscholar)
gn! reader, word count: 1.7k, warning! mention of burnout and academic stress
a/n: i've been highkey stressed bc of deadlines, so i wrote this. this being self indulgent hurt/comfort with leona kingscholar. hope that everyone's taking care of themself this exam season ^^
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To be honest, Leona was annoyed. But that was his selfishness talking, he wasn't annoyed at Yuu, he was more annoyed at all the deadlines taking up their time. He hasn't seen them in days now.
And to be even more honest, he was...worried. He stared at his phone, at how his texts and calls had been going unanswered for hours now. It was normal for them not to text everyday, but they had also told him that they get too engrossed in studying at times. Leona hazarded that this was one of those times.
That was why Leona was here, staring up at their self-imposed prison called Ramshackle, a bag of food in his hand. He was sure Yuu was in there, watching the flicker of their curtain from their open window. He trudged through the empty halls, climbing up the familiar staircase till he reached the front of their room.
He could feel the prickle of the ghosts' stares on him, and he turned into the empty air, "How long has the herbivore been at it?"
A ghost materialized near him, "It's been...hours since they've stopped to rest."
"And Grim?"
"Grim stormed out after they refused to stop and take a break," Another ghost said, looking sadly at the room.
"Alright," He sighed, hand on their doorknob. "Tell Grim to enter the room quietly when he's back. Don't worry, I'll get them to rest."
After the briefest of moments, he opened the door.
Light filtered through the open window, and he saw Yuu hunched over their desk. He saw a stack of textbooks next to them, accompanied by the faint glow of their computer screen. There were papers strewn all over the table and floor, and he even spotted what looked like dried alchemy ingredients in vials in the corner.
Leona wasted no time sitting on their bed. The creak most definitely drew their attention because they finally spoke, hand still scribbling on their notebook, "Grim? Hey, I'm sorry about earlier, I–"
"Try again."
And that was when Yuu finally froze. They turned slowly, a disbelieving look on their face as they saw him, "Leona. Did Grim ask you to come? You didn't tell me you were coming, I–"
"Was studying, I know," Leona watched as they scrambled to find something. "I called you a couple of times earlier, and you didn't reply."
They finally found it: their phone, buried under a stack of papers, "I'm...so sorry, my phone's out of battery."
"That's rare," Leona said, taking the phone from their hands and plugging it in. "How long has it been since you took a break?" He didn't really need to ask. He could see the fatigue smudged under their eyes, and in their unfocused gaze. It had been long enough since they took a break. But he wanted to hear it directly from them.
Yuu shrugged, "A couple of hours?" He sighed, approaching them.
"What time is it?" Leona towered over their seat, his arms boxing them in. "And don't even try cheating, herbivore." This close, he could see the messiness of their desk, the empty waterbottles discarded on the side, and the multitude of tabs open on their laptop. He could also see the sleepy droop of their eyes, their fingers reddened and raw from where the pencil had indented itself there for who knows how long.
They finally met his eyes, offering a tentative, "It's...uhm, 11am...?"
Leona's hands tightened its grip on their chair, "Herbivore, it's 2pm." He watched as the realization followed by panic play out on their face before he tugged them up.
"Sit on the bed. If I see you touching your computer or phone, you're dead meat," Leona ran a hand through his hair out of frustration more than anything. "And eat this. I'll go get you some water."
Once he saw them opening the bag, Leona made his way to their kitchen. He grabbed a tall glass of water, placing the empty water bottles in the sink before leaving.
When he made his way back up, they were sitting on the bed with a notebook open. Yuu raised their hands in surrender when they saw him, "You said no phone or computer. Nothing about notebooks."
Leona's jaw ticked, "Put that away and eat." They followed his order wordlessly, throwing the notebook onto the floor. Meanwhile he busied himself with their computer saving whatever was open, before closing it.
They had already scarfed down most of the rice bowl when they finally spoke again, "Are you mad at me?"
"More like frustrated at how bad you are at taking care of yourself when you study," Leona mumbled, pushing the water into their hands. They gulped it down all in one go and he sighed. "When's your next deadline?"
Yuu glanced at the clock, "4pm tomorrow."
"And how much is done?"
"Most of it, but–"
"That means you're sleeping. Now."
"Leona. I can't just...I can't sleep," There was this defeated look on Yuu's face and Leona wanted nothing more than to will it away.
"Elaborate for me," He sat across from them now, as they pushed around their rice. "Why can't you sleep?" Instead of answering, they let the silence grow, placing their food to the side table.
"It's...stupid."
"It's not stupid if you're still thinking about it," He frowned more openly now. He couldn't pretend to understand what they were going through. No matter how much knowledge he had, it would never give him the ability to read another's mind. All he could do was wait for them to open up.
"I just... Sleeping seems like a waste of time when I've got this much work," The words rushed out into the quiet of the room, and they gulped, as if they had been waiting to say them for so long. They almost choked on the words, their voice rising higher as they spoke, "It's stupid, because... well obviously you need sleep to be able to work. But I feel...guilty. There's so much to do and not enough time and I've been working deadline-to-deadline and...
Yuu head hung forward, "I'm so tired." The sentence was said in a whisper, almost like it was a plead for help.
"Herbivore..." Leona's heart ached for them. It wasn't only because of their struggles. No, it was because he was familiar with the feeling. Of wanting to do so much, and yet his body couldn't take it. Of struggling in vain in front of walls too tall for him to ever reach. Of the tiredness clawing at his limbs, until he had given up and surrendered to days of listless sleep.
"Let's sleep," Yuu nodded shortly; a clear attempt at deflecting. "I haven't slept since yesterday morning, I should—"
Leona caught their arm, meeting their eyes, "Hey. I can't say that I know what you're going through. But...I've been somewhere similar. And you're not alone. I see all the effort you're putting in; all that hard work. And I..."
Leona let out a soft sigh, his hand reaching to hold theirs, "I'm proud of you, okay?"
And he meant it. He meant every last word, because there was no one that could make him prouder than Yuu could. He just...hoped that they would believe him; believe in their own hard work and effort.
"Are you...trying to make me cry?" Their eyes burned with unshed tears as they glared at him, and Leona met their stare with a pang in his heart. It wasn't his intention to make them cry, of all things. He really was unskilled with words at times.
"No. I'm trying to get you to realize that you don't need to prove yourself to anyone," Leona wiped at their tears, and they leaned into his palm readily. "Not even to me, okay? Academics are important, but your health is more important."
"Then...could you..." They hesitated again and he squeezed their hand. "Could you stay here with me? Just until my assignments are done. You don't have to help or anything, you can just...sit there. Or nap."
"If that means you sleep and eat on time, then yes. Gladly," Leona strangely felt warm at the thought of them seeking comfort in him, warmer still at the way their hand held his. "You can always call me when you need me. You should go to sleep now."
The herbivore flopped back onto the bed, shuffling so they were lying next to him. Leona covered them with the blanket, an arm under his head.
"Thank you," Their voice was soft, a little wobbly. "For coming, and the food, and...everything."
"Of course," Leona said, voice equally as soft. "I can't just stand by and watch you wear yourself out."
"Thanks to my supportive and caring boyfriend, I can finally rest without feeling guilty," Their eyes finally fluttered shut, and Leona felt his heart squeeze. He leaned toward them, pressing a kiss to the crown of their head. That drew a small smile from them before they were burying their head into their pillow.
Leona waited until he was absolutely sure they were asleep before finally sighing. He was still concerned about if they really were okay. What would've happened if he didn't come sooner? Would he have recieved a summons from Grim? Or worse...the infirmary?
Leona didn't want to think about that. But at least now he could make sure that they would be just fine. He wrapped his arms more securely around them, closing his eyes. For now, all he needed to do was sleep, and when he awakened, he could take care of them.
If what Yuu needed was his presence he would gladly give them his time. If they needed his counsel, he would listen and advice. And if in the end of the day, all they needed was someone to hold them, and tell them they did well...he would do it.
Leona would give them all the comfort that they deserved for that was what Yuu was to him. And he hoped that they would one day regard him to be the same. A warm place to come home to. A place only they knew, and only they could have. Right there, in each others' arms.
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(as an easter egg, the title of this fic + the excerpt are lyrics from the song "end of a day" by jonghyun <3 it's a song that comforts me when i'm having a hard day, so i thought i'd share it)
and that's a wrap on the fic ! i hope you enjoyed and that it was able to bring you some comfort <33 if you wanna see more, come check out my masterlist ^^
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buckys-black-dress · 1 year ago
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heaven won't be the same
a/n: hello!!!!! i know it's been, like, a really really long time since i've written for you guys. depression + nursing school = even worse depression. anyways, here's something that i wrote to just kinda get me back into the groove of writing. enjoy!
wc: 5.7k words
warnings: NONE. she's chill today.
[ bucky barnes x nurse!fem!reader ]
-
Is this is the right place?
Looks like it. Just knock. What's the worst that could happen?
Your hand lifts, albeit hesitantly, and raps against the wooden door.
You wait a moment before you hear shuffling on the other side, and then the lock turning and the door opens.
The blond who opens it stares at you, searching for some sort of recognition in your eyes, but comes up a bit short.
"Can I help you?" He asks slowly, clearly confused.
"Hi, I'm Y/N. I can't remember which one of you I spoke with, I think his name was Sam. But I'm here to look at the room you guys are renting?" You ask gently, maybe you were in the wrong place.
"Oh! You're Y/N! Yes, yeah, I know who you are, come in." Recognition dawns on the blue-eyed boy's face. "By the way, I'm Steve. I don't know how much Sam has told you about us but I wasn't expecting a girl to want to live with three guys." He chuckles and you return the laugh.
"Yeah, I mean I was a bit hesitant at first because I thought I'd get murdered by you guys or something, but Sam made it very clear that you're all very nice people and won't watch me while I sleep." You reply with a small smile.
Steve looks at you in silence.
"Just kidding!" You let out a laugh. "But my mom was a bit worried about me living with three men, but I convinced her nothing bad was going to happen. I hope."
"Hey, seriously though, we wouldn't want to make you feel unsafe. I know being a woman in this day and age in New York can be... less than pleasant. We're big on respect here at 6A." He flashes you a smile that for sure has made a girl weak in the knees before.
"Thanks, Steve. I appreciate that. I mean I know you guys probably weren't expecting a girl as your fourth roommate, so I'm just happy to find space where I can."
"I mean, hey, it's not what we were expecting, but we're not picky people." Steve shrugs. "Wanna take a look at your room? Then we can go from there and get your stuff moved in."
"Sure, sounds great!"
He leads you down the hallway and opens a door, revealing the room you saw on the listing.
After chattering about the room and how they were excited to have you live with them, he takes you back to main living area to wrap up any other loose ends.
"Alright, so like I said we do have two bathrooms so you might have to share with Bucky, since his room is also on that side of the apartment but that shouldn't be a problem. And also, I can help move in your things if you don't wanna go through the hassle of getting moving guys and all that."
"Oh, you don't have to do that for me, I don't mind at all-"
"Hey, no worries, I'm happy to help." Steve smiles and you nod in response.
"Thanks. I didn't know I'd be getting such a deal moving in with you guys." You laugh.
"I'm just happy to help. I'm sure Sam and Buck can also help since they'll be around later tonight."
-
And so it began.
All of your boxes were in the rented U-Haul at the front of your new home. You text Steve to let him know you're downstairs, and a feeling sits in your gut.
You were nervous to live with three random stranger men. Granted, Sam and Steve were both so nice, and you really are getting a great deal with this apartment, being so close to your work and all.
"Hey Y/N! Let's get this show on the road." Steve comes outside, guns blazing, (literally, have you seen his biceps?), and ready to work.
It only takes an hour or so to get all your things inside, and Sam was waiting inside to take things directly to your new room. Although you still haven't met Bucky, you knew it couldn't be too bad. Steve and Sam were angels.
-
The first time you met Bucky was when he returned from his shift. He worked as a bartender. He had odd hours and often didn't come back until 3 AM most nights that he worked.
Hence, the reason why he was confused when he saw you in the kitchen in the middle of the night.
"Hey... who are you?" He asked, dropping his keys into the bowl next to the door.
"Oh!" Your head whipped around at the sound of the door shutting "Steve mentioned that you worked weird hours. I'm Y/N." You extend your hand to him. "I'm the new roommate. I hope they told you about me." You huff out a laugh, hoping he wouldn't be completely weirded out by you.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I totally missed that you were moving in today. Don't worry, they did mention you." He returned your smile while shaking your hand.
His large, callused hand engulfing yours made your heart pound in your chest. Jesus. Are all the guys who live here male models? What the hell?
"Well, it was really nice meeting you, Y/N. I'm gonna head to bed, work totally got me shot. I'll see you in the morning?"
"Yeah, yes. I'm usually out the door by 6:30 by the latest, so I'll catch you if you're up." You smile.
"6:30 in the morning? Yeah, no chance I'll see you then but you'll catch me before my shift. I forgot, Sam did mention you were a nurse."
"For sure, I also have the next day off so that'll probably be a bit more realistic."
"How about we go get breakfast that day? On me, consider it a welcome-to-the-apartment gift from me." Bucky's grin spreads across his face, and you can't help notice just how handsome he is.
"Deal, Bucky. Good night."
-
After you both got over the initial awkwardness, you and Bucky became the most unlikely pair. Sharing a bathroom was breeze, your schedules aligned perfectly some days, meaning that the two of you spent most of your free time together.
It was a strange feeling. You loved becoming friends with Bucky. He was so easy to talk to, and understood you better than most others. It was so natural and easy with him, like you'd known him forever.
But another part of you was falling for him, and you knew it. You chose to ignore it, deciding that it was silly and that you just liked him as a friend. A best friend, perhaps.
At times, he did little things that made you think otherwise, though.
The cuddling during movie nights. The 'I got this for you because it made me think of you's. It was something that ate at you daily.
You two practically did everything together. In a way, it was like being in a relationship, but with no pressure. No expectations. Just two people, hanging out and being there for the other. It meant nothing (but everything, at the same time.)
He was always there for you. After a hard shift, you came home and sat quietly while you talked about whatever it was that bothered you. And after his shifts at the bar, he did the same.
It was almost too easy, the way you two could fall into a rhythms so easily. It was so nice to have someone to have around after moving into a new place. You two clicked effortlessly, it seemed.
And of course, they don't call it falling in love for nothing.
-
Tonight, you had a night shift, which meant you went to bed all day until about 4 PM and then proceeded to get ready for your evening at the hospital.
You were in the bathroom washing your face and braiding your hair back, then pulling on your under-scrub top.
The door creaks open, revealing a smiling Bucky.
He's dressed head to toe in black; a tight t-shirt that looks like it's a size too small, black jeans, black leather boots, and finally, a leather jacket thrown over his arm.
"I hate when you have the night shift. I'm so lonely during the day, and of course you have it on my one night off." He whines, and you shoot him a look through the mirror.
"Well, I wouldn't have taken the night shift but they were offering extra pay since no one wanted to cover. Sorry, honey." You turn around and pat his chest to move him out of the doorway, an exaggerated pout on your face.
Fuck me, those eyes, Bucky thinks to himself at the gesture.
Your touch sent a flutter of butterflies against his stomach, making him move out of your way so you could pull on your socks and gather your things into your bag.
"Where are you all dressed up for on your night off then?" You ask out loud while stuffing your arms through your fleece jacket.
"I- uh, funny story, actually." He laughs out a cough, "I have a date." He presses his lips together.
"Oh. A date." You stop what you were doing, back turned to him.
You can feel his eyes burning through the back of your head, but you can't turn to face him right now. Snapping out your thoughts, you continue gathering your things.
"Yeah, this girl at the bar, she works as a waitress actually. She asked for my number, and well one thing led to another and-"
"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Buck. I'm happy for you. Have a great date, I have to run. Good luck." You muster the best smile you can in that moment and practically run out of your room.
"Wait, are you okay?" He asks in a rush, following close behind you.
"Of course I'm okay, why wouldn't I be? I have to get to work." You were almost an hour early. You stop to fill your water bottle from the fridge and make your escape. "I'll see you tomorrow!" You yell from the hallway before the door shuts, the slam resounding through the emptiness.
The moment of silence in the elevator gets you lost in your thoughts for a minute.
A date.
With a girl who works at the bar.
You don't know why this is hurting your chest so terribly. The thought of Bucky, your closest friend, going on a date, tugs at something.
Whatever happens, you know you can't say anything. It's not your place. You just have to let it run its course, whether it goes in a good direction or not. You have to just do your best to be happy for Bucky.
-
Meanwhile, back at the apartment;
"Did Y/N leave for work already?" Steve asks, coming out of his room.
"Yeah, she basically ran out even though her shift isn't til seven." Bucky's brows are furrowed, still standing in the middle of the kitchen thinking about how you practically raced to get away from him.
"Why'd she leave so early?" Steve asks in confusion, eyes flashing to the oven, seeing the digital clock flashing 5:56 PM. "It only takes her like 20 minutes to get there."
While discussing, Sam pops out of his own bedroom, listening in on the conversation between the two.
"I don't know, we were just talking about plans tonight and she got really weird, all of a sudden. She grabbed all her stuff for her shift and just bolted." Bucky was incredibly confused, and it was clear in his tone and facial expression.
He looked like a lost puppy.
"So what are you doing tonight?" Sam asks, wondering what was bothering you. Maybe it was something Bucky said?
"I was just hanging out in her room while she was getting ready, and then she asked what I was dressed for and I told her about that girl, Christina, the one from the bar that asked for my number and asked to go on a date. Then she basically ran." Bucky shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what even happened, she even said I 'don't have to explain myself to her,' and that she had to leave."
Steve and Sam shoot a look between each other, the latter breathing out a deep sigh.
"What? What's that sigh?" Bucky asks.
"Nothing, Buck. Have you thought that maybe the date was what was bothering her? You two spend a lot of time together, and maybe she feels a little... blindsided by this date." Steve reasons.
"What? Why would she feel blindsided? I tell her everything. She tells me everything. That's just how we are." Bucky responds with a shake of the head, hands flailing in the air.
"But what about her? Does she tell you about the dates she goes on?" Sam asks, and Bucky's brows furrow.
"What dates? She goes on dates? With who?"
Another look shared between Steve and Sam.
"See, maybe she doesn't go on dates. I really don't know. But that reaction is why she felt hurt by you telling her about you going on a date." Steve explains.
Bucky's lost.
"She has feelings for you, Buck. She has feelings and she's hurt that you're going on a date because she never goes on dates, and now she's realizing that she's going to get left behind in the dust when you meet another girl." Sam supplies.
Now Bucky's even more lost.
"But... why wouldn't she tell me she has feelings for me? She's never even indicated that there was anything she felt for me more than friends do." He explains, now wracking his brain for every single interaction you two have had.
"Listen... we don't know what goes on when you guys are alone. But what I do know is that you guys spend a lot of time together, and I think you guys both have some... unspoken feelings for each other."
Bucky stands there, contemplating what this meant. What was he saying? That he should come clean to you about his feelings for you? That going on this date tonight would be a mistake?
Fuck, the date.
"Listen, I gotta go. My date's expecting me." Bucky quickly dismisses the entire conversation, putting him arms through the arms of his leather jacket before heading out the door.
Another sigh was shared between the two men left behind in the apartment.
-
There were pros and cons to working the night shift.
Pros included that it was calm, most of the time. Nights meant time to catch up on charting and paperwork while patients slept, checking in on them when needed.
Cons included the fact that one of the major thoughts blaring in your mind was 'WHILE YOU'RE SITTING HERE MEASURING THIS PATIENT'S OUTPUT, BUCKY IS ON A DATE WITH A SUPER HOT GIRL FROM HIS WORK!!!'
It sucked.
You wished you could shut it off. Of course, you always had to make sure you were giving your patients the best care possible, but your mind was plagued.
Would you ever tell him how you felt? Could you ever take that risk? The thought of even telling him, let alone being rejected, makes you sick to your stomach.
He would never speak to you again. It would be weird between you two, and then it would be weird between everyone in the apartment, and you would never be able to show your face again and would have to move out. There’s no other feasible option.
Unless…
Unless Bucky liked you back.
But you don’t even let your mind wander there, because you couldn’t even stomach the thought of not being around them. They were your family, the people you spent the most time with, the ones you could always count on when you had a rough day or needed a shoulder to lean on. Especially Bucky.
You simply couldn’t lose them.
And so, your night shift went on and the world still spun, even with your feelings buried deep in your chest.
-
When you walked into your apartment at 7:30 AM, there were some things you noticed that weren’t there when you had left.
First, it was the pretty black kitten heels by the door that certainly weren’t yours.
Then, for example, a cute leather purse hanging from a barstool by the kitchen island that wasn’t yours.
You put two and two together, and despite the harsh clench of your chest, you decided you were too tired to even think about all this right now. You just needed to take a shower and go straight to bed.
After staying true to your words, you had just shut the door to the bathroom when you heard it open again. Then, the water running from the tap, and then you see the handle of your door turning.
Immediately, you throw yourself under your covers and act like you had already been asleep. You simply couldn’t face Bucky right now. Not after knowing that he brought that girl home, and not after she was probably still in his bed. That was just too far for you.
With your face away from the door, you try and make your breaths as even as possible, hearing the door click open.
You could feel Bucky’s eyes burning into you, but you weren’t giving yourself away. You needed sleep before dealing with this.
Once you hear the door shut, you let out a big breath, your heart practically leaping out of your chest. And with that breath, you allow your eyes to only well with tears, but not letting them fall.
-
You woke again at 3 PM, but with knowing you had the next day off you weren’t in any rush to start your day. You didn't even want to move. You felt as though you got hit by a bus, between the racing thoughts about... well you know who they were about; and then piled on with the unexpected code in the middle of your shift, it was not a peaceful night.
You got your much needed rest, but you were in no mood to face Bucky right now.
But alas, your stomach spoke (rather growled violently), and you had to eat something before your stomach folded in on itself.
As you crack the door open to inspect the hall, you see that Bucky's door is closed but you hear noises from the direction of the living room.
You weigh your options.
Go out and make yourself something to eat and possibly face Bucky.
Starve.
Although the latter was looking like a great option, another whoosh from your stomach made you man up and step out of the room.
You couldn't even bring yourself to look at who was in the apartment, eyes dead-set on the pasta sauce you knew was in the fridge.
"Hey, Y/N! How was the night shift?" Sam's chirpy question came from the couch.
"It was alright, had a code but he pulled through. What did you two get up to last night?" You ask, seeing that Steve and Bucky were sitting on the couch opposite to Sam.
You couldn't even look him in the eye, while you knew he was watching you.
"Not much, just had a few beers and chilled til Buck got back, caused quite the ruckus." Sam lets out a laugh, but the words pierced through your heart as you pour the pasta into the boiling pot of water you'd set on the stove.
"Oh, nice." You reply, albeit shortly. You didn't know what to say. But of course, your mouth runs farther ahead than your brain. "How was that date, Bucky?"
You didn't care how the date was. You know she came back here, and you had absolutely zero interest in finding out what they did together. You couldn't handle hearing him tell you about it.
"It was... it was good. She came back here after." Was all he said. He looked at you with those wide, crazy eyes. You wanted to crumble under his gaze, but instead you just turned around to focus on your food.
"Nice. Great. I'm glad it went well for you." You said, not facing him.
The three boys give each other a look, and the tension could be cut with a knife.
Another loud growl from your stomach.
Fuck.
You check and the pasta is cooked. You drain it, pour your sauce and cheese, and practically sprint back to your room with a resounding click of your door through the apartment. Dishes be damned.
-
Outside, breaths were still held.
"Jesus, Sam. Could you have made it sound worse than it was?" Bucky grits through his teeth, pushing his shoulder aggressively.
"Well, you did bring her back here. Did I misspeak?" He responds.
"No, but we just hung out! Nothing even happened! Why is this even so awkward between us? It's not a crime if I did sleep with her." Bucky defends, but is confused about this situation.
"Well, it wouldn't be a crime, but it sure wouldn't be a good thing that you slept with someone else when you clearly have feelings for her!" Steve chimes in as quietly as possible.
-
You feel so stupid.
The urge hits you like a truck.
Should you also be going on dates? What was it that was so deeply holding you back from doing what Bucky's doing?
You could make all the excuses you want; busy with work, too tired, and that you were happy with your friendships and current relationships, even if they were all platonic.
But that was all before, when you thought Bucky felt the same.
You thought that he was also happy with the way you two were. Doing all the things people in relationships do, but not speaking out about those deeply-buried feelings. And that was enough. You didn't need someone to tell you they loved you as more than a friend, you didn't need that yearning feeling to be filled.
It was all bullshit, anyways. Right?
Right?
Right.
He could date people and have a girlfriend that he could do all those things with.
It didn't matter.
Because apparently, you weren't that person to him.
So you would just have to accept that and move on with your life.
Alone.
Again.
-
"Again with these damn feelings! You two don't even know your heads from your asses, and you wanna tell me about how my feelings!" Bucky scrambles for words. He feels hot and uncomfortable all over, all the while trying to not raise his voice.
"Bucky! You felt that tension in here? Right? That was because she had a problem! And it could all easily fixed if you just said, 'Hey, I know this is crazy, but I like you! And I didn't sleep with anyone else because of that!' Huh? How 'bout that?" Sam suggests, like it was the easiest thing to do in the world.
"Yeah, and what if she laughs in my face? What if that's totally not the case?!" Bucky responds.
"Buck, I think you just need to trust us on this one. She likes you and you like her. I don't know what else to tell you to make you understand." Steve finally sighs and drops his shoulders, over this whole conversation.
"Listen, she has tomorrow off. If you two end up hanging out, you need to say something. The tension is just too much." Sam just sighs and turns the TV on, preemptively ending the conversation.
Bucky just went into his room, placed his headphones over his head, and spent some time alone to think.
Let's think rationally.
You went on a date, and you didn't sleep with her.
What Bucky was coming to realize, is that there was a reason he didn't sleep with her.
He just couldn't.
It felt wrong, like he knew that there was a reason why he couldn't do it, subconsciously.
And he fully went into the date wanting to sleep with her. That was his goal. But he knew that if he did, it would be the point of no return. For some reason, he just felt it in his gut.
Realistically, even if I slept with her, I probably would've been sick with myself. I couldn't even face her after that.
But why?
Because you like her, you absolute moron.
He thinks of all the moments shared between you two. The stares, the cuddling, the innocent touches that drove him insane. All of those things added up in his mind to become one big jumble of feelings and now his brain felt like it was going to burst from how much this was all hitting him at once.
He springs off his bed.
Before he even turns the corner into the living room, words are spilling out of his mouth.
"You know what, maybe subconsciously even my body knew not to sleep with her, but even then how could I know for sure she likes me?-"
But there you are, sitting between Steve and Sam, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes, gazing up at him in shock.
Clearly, you three were in the middle of something.
"You didn't sleep with her?" Your voice is meek at the question.
"No. I couldn't do it." He says, like it was obvious.
"Why not?" You fire back.
"I- I just... can we not do this out here? Please?" Bucky practically begs. He can't confess his deep and utter devotion to you in front of his two best friends. They'd never let him live it down.
"Come with me." Bucky runs into his room, throwing you a hoodie of his that he knew you were partial to, and then slid on his own jacket. Shoes are stuffed onto his feet, and he sees you doing the same, but your eyes never leave his figure in confusion.
The keys are grabbed from the bowl, and the door swings open while he holds it open for you.
Before Bucky lets the door shut, he gives Sam and Steve a final look; meanwhile the two are jumping up and down and pumping their fists in the air silently. It was almost comical.
"Where are we going?" Your voice from behind him startles him a bit, forgetting what he was even supposed to be doing.
"Just- put this on, honey." He hands you his spare motorcycle helmet, and you almost want to protest, but you wanted to see where this was going.
So you comply and hold onto him for dear life while he weaves in and out of traffic.
He stops, finally, in front of the place you know Bucky always comes to when he has too much on his mind.
It's a wide expanse of the city, a rooftop that he somehow had access to; and you weren't sure what you were doing here.
"What are we doing here?" You don't even let your mind think about what he was here to tell you.
Was he here to break the news to you that he was seeing this girl?
But you still couldn't figure out why he would bring you here to tell you that, and why he hadn't slept with her last night. Did she mean more to him than he let on? Is that why he wanted to wait to sleep with her?
The thought sends you heart sinking into your stomach.
"I have something I need to tell you." Bucky pauses and gazes so deeply into your eyes, something swimming in his blue irises, but you couldn't tell what. That was what scared you the most.
"I... I haven't been completely honest with you about how I've been feeling as of late. And I can't keep... keep being dishonest to myself and you, Y/N."
Tears were welling against your lashline, begging to be released at his words.
This was it. It’s all about to be over for good.
He approaches closer, hands coming to your jawline; his hold so delicate and soft that it makes you even more upset.
"Y/N... You are the most important person in my life. I can't imagine sharing any part of my life without you. You're the only person I want to see when I have something on my mind, I yearn for your touch when you aren't there, and lately, I've been confused as hell trying to understand why." His soft voice makes you weak in the knees.
Cue more tears.
"I just... I'm sorry I waited so long to tell you. And I'm sorry I went on that date... I'm sorry for a lot of things."
"Can I ask you something?" You ask quietly.
"Of course, honey."
"Why didn't you sleep with her?"
The weight of the question sits heavily in the air, and Bucky's features soften a smidge.
"I couldn't do it. I tried to get myself into it, into her. Both figuratively and literally." He laughs at his own joke, "but no part of me wanted to spend time with her over you. All I could think about was you. The entire date, I was thinking about what you were doing. What you were thinking about. You're all that takes up my mind these days. It kills me, not being around you when you're gone. I wish I could express to you how much I love you, but there aren't any words that could explain the extent of my feelings for you, Y/N. All I can really say is that I love you. You're my best friend. I can't think of anyone else who has the same effect on me that you have."
All you can think of you when you hear those words is the pounding in your chest and the fluttering in your lungs.
A wet, snotty smile crosses your face and you let out a garbled laugh.
"You love me?" Your hands slide up his chest to his shoulders, fingers grasping onto them.
"For as long as I can remember, honey. You're everything to me. The stars, the moon, the sky. It's all you." He returns the same smile, large thumbs caressing under your eyes to swipe at the fallen tears at his admission. "Do you love me?"
The way he asks you the question makes it sound so minuscule, so minute and almost childish, because you think he knows the answer.
"I do. I love you so much that I can't even think properly when I'm around you, Bucky. You take up every inch of my heart and my mind. I love you." You confess, the words spilling out of you like they belonged to him.
The grin that stretches across his cheeks is almost unreal, like a cartoon character. You could practically see the hearts in his eyes at your words.
The kiss that he molds upon your lips with his own steals all the air out of your lungs, and while one of your hands threads through his soft locks at the nape of his neck and your eyes fall shut, the other slides down to his chest, resting right over his heart.
You feel it against your palm and fingers, the pounding of the organ at the feeling of finally kissing you.
You wish he could feel yours, equally as loud and obvious.
His own hands are cradling your cheeks ever so gently, but the way he's kissing you is anything but. It was full of want, need, yearning. Everything you’ve been waiting for for months, finally being released in this moment.
When he finally pulls away for air, your eyes remain closed. You never wanted this moment to end, and if you opened your eyes now, you're afraid you'll wake and this will all be a cruel dream.
"Let me see those eyes, sweetheart." He mumbles and you can almost feel the words against your lips.
When your eyes peel open again almost drowsily, Bucky's smile is all you see. His nose is still brushing against yours, and you feel weak in the knees all over again at the proximity.
"I love you. And you love me. You know what that means?" He says.
"What?" Is all you can muster to reply at the moment.
"It means I owe those two bozos at home an apology and a beer, probably."
The laugh that escapes you lights him up inside, the sound being his favorite thing in the world. If he could make you laugh forever, he'd die a happy man.
"They knew this whole time, y'know? They actually confronted me about it. I didn't even tell them first. I guess I was just that obvious." You laugh at the memory, Bucky fondly smiling.
"I expect nothing less from them. You should've seen Sam before I left last night. Acting like he was your dad or something." Bucky's large arms come to wrap around you, holding you against his body.
"Oh, I wouldn't wanna be on side of Sam's attitude. I'm glad you made it out alive." You giggle once more, arms looping around his neck.
"Now when we go back I'm gonna have to face the 'I told you so's' from them. Kill me now." He rolls his eyes at the thought.
"Well, if they kill you now, you wouldn't be able to take me out to dinner tomorrow night." You tell him coyly, like the idea was already put in place.
"Huh, seems like you're right, honey. Couldn't leave my one and only girl hanging."
Bucky finally releases you from his hold- not that you wanted to be released of it- and walks towards the stairwell to head back down.
"C'mon. We've got a movie and ice cream waiting for us at home, sweetheart." He holds out his hand, and you don't hesitate to leap forward and grab it in your own.
"Let's go, Buck. I have lots to tell you about my shift last night."
"Oh, I'm sure the night shift was just riveting." He laughs as he leads you down the steps.
"Yeah, well all I could really think about was you being on a date with that girl, so yeah, maybe not the most pleasant time to have all night to yourself." You scoff.
"Well, you're never gonna have to worry about that again, will you?" He steals another peck from your lips, the blush creeping across your face at the gesture.
"I suppose not, no."
-
fin.
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thetentaclecommander · 4 months ago
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Commit to the bit.
Life is too fuckin short. And then we die and rot. You got *this* nonsense story idea? With *those* characters? In *that* fandom? That you want to see meet/befriend/fight/debate/fuck/have tea/x *with each other*?? Then do it. And commit. Full on own your idea, cause this fanfic shit is for fun. Shits and giggles. Nothing more, nothing less. Not even to save a pony or topple a dictatorship*. Don't hold back your commitment to this idea because somebody will get mad or will assume the worst of you (they will anyway; assumptive people don't deserve your time). Or your writing skill isn't 'good' - try! I promise in this journey you will over time find that becomes less of an issue. Hell, I'm not the Bard but I'm way better than I was an eternity ago; it's hard typing with tentacles, ok. Or people just won't like it. Spoiler: nothing is universally liked or loved and that's okay. Write it anyway. Like that movie with the cornfield: 'if you build it they will come.' Your people will show up, it just takes time. You are allowed to say 'That's my story and I wrote it exactly as I wanted it.' No debating**, no it has x and this or that blah blah bad blah - nah. It's your story. Folks can go find something else and complain somewhere else, they know how to work a computer. And for all that is holy don't sanitize, nor compromise your vision- I've seen it out in the wild and it kills me whenever authors cave to the pressure when a thing is seen as awful, <insert silly religious scary wording here> and needs changing by an audience that sees your work as a thing to consume seasoned to their tastes and not to enjoy what is freely given by a fan fandoming it up. You will only feel boxed in and resentful so...don't :) Laugh at them and do it MORE. In fact, stand 100% by your work. Hype up that shit! Where is the hype like you did that! You did this crazy thing in your own free time probably stressed af and yet made this story. You made it from your own brain put into text form for others to enjoy. That is so fuckin' cool. Like legit you basically wrote a book so congrats, you legend. Revel in it. But above all else Commit. To. The. Bit. *you could make a fic out of that 'saving a pony dictatorship' idea I suppose, FiM would love you **now, if you ask for actual advice (and not unsolicited crit), take what works and toss what doesn't but don't get mad at crit you directly asked for!
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changetyre · 2 years ago
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Teasing II Carlos Sainz
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SUMMARY: You and Carlos have been dating for a couple of months, you spend almost every waking minute together, and one of your favorite things to do as a couple is tease each other in public.
WARNINGS: Terribly written smut, squirting, edging, overstimulation? kinda, probably some other things I'm forgetting 😪
A/N: I wrote the non-smutty version a while ago over on my Wattpad but I thought I'd give it a go adding a little more spice to it ;)
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Last week had been the hardest so far, I don't know how he did it but Carlos always found a way to make his teasing bigger and better every time. I also don't know how I keep falling for all of the things Carlos does to me given our history.
Last weekend Carlos gave me a present that came in a really nicely wrapped thin box, It was morning and he had already left for the gym before I got in the shower. I opened the gift up to reveal some really nice lingerie.
You're not allowed to wear this today, I have interviews, but we'll have fun tonight.
Te amo. Carlos.
I read the note inside the box. I giggled.
After all this tie did he actually think I was going to listen to him? I lifted up the almost nonexisting fabric taking a good look at it.
I decided to put it on and above it, I put on a black dress Carlos had also bought me a while back that zipped up from the front, something he loved for the 'easy access'.
The day carried on as usual, really light teasing here and there but at some point when no one was looking I zipped down my dress in front of Carlos slightly revealing the lingerie set he had bought me.
Carlos's eyes went wide but I noticed his smile soon turned into a smirk indicating to me I was in big trouble.
Little did I know Carlos had all of this planned out. The lingerie set he bought me was not the kind I thought.
With the use of an app on his phone, Carlos had a thrill that day activating and controlling the vibrations that came from a small almost undetectable plate that was placed directly over my nipples and over my bud.
Today however it was my turn to get him back and I had everything planned out.
Carlos left for the gym, as usual, I got up showered, had breakfast, and got dressed in a new dress I bought specifically for today. Carlos loved seeing me in black and even though it was meant for his eyes only I chose to wear it to the track.
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Amor💘 : Amor are you ready? I'm pulling up?
I read the text from Carlos as I finished brushing my hair.
You: I'm coming
I quickly texted him back.
I made my way downstairs. I opened the door and Carlos stepped out opening the door for me. As I walked up to him I saw him bite his lip as he looked me up and down, he immediately wrapped his arms around me resting his hands on my ass and giving it a tight squeeze.
"Morning my love." I kissed him letting my hand graze over his pants ever so slightly.
His fingers began to drop in between my cheeks but I moved quickly before things could advance.
I felt him tense up as I stepped away from him and into the car.
He opened his mouth to say something but resisted and simply grunted shutting the door for me and walking to the driver's side.
At the track Carlos had to do some testing, I stayed in his driver's room while I waited for him and plotted my next moves. We were meant to go Golfing this afternoon and after Golf we were headed straight home because Carlos had a work call to join.
There wasn't much I could do to tease him now that he was on track and I was growing bored so I decided to go out with the rest of the team and find another way to get Carlos's attention when he drove back to the pits.
I was chatting with some of the mechanics and Caco and just as Carlos was parking in front of the garage I stepped to the side, my back facing him.
As he began approaching me I discreetly started hitching my dress up starting to reveal my butt as he stepped out of the car. He took his helmet off and as soon as he noticed what I was doing he rushed over to me.
In a panic he placed his hand over my ass, using his fingers to pull my dress down before sliding his hand around my waist. "Come on mi amor." he grabbed my hand and pulled me back to his room.
"That was a good practice run." I acted like nothing happened as I stepped in, Carlos closing the door behind him.
"You can't do that, what if some of the guys saw you? There are cameras around." I knew he was partly annoyed but at the same time, his smirk gave him away. He enjoyed the risk as much as me.
I stood up and walked up to him, I reached behind him locking the door before starting to zip his suit down for him.
"Whatever you say, baby." I pulled his suit off his shoulders and started sliding it down his body, once I got to his waist I kneeled down as I continued pulling his suit down. I heard his breath hitch as my lips grazed all the way down his chest, to his v-line, and I let out a deep breath when my lips were in front of his crotch.
Carlos's head fell back and I could see the tent growing in his pants as he expected me to go further but as soon as I pulled his suit down to his ankles I stood back up.
"There you go babe, I'll meet you in the car." I kissed his cheek.
"Are you kidding me?" Carlos cursed under his breath cupping himself with both hands as I opened and shut the door behind me.
I giggled as I made my way to the car not without saying goodbye to Caco and the rest of the team first.
Before I got to the car I made a quick stop in one of the bathrooms putting on my new golf outfit for the day.
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I went to the car and leaned back against the front as I waited for him to come back. Only a couple of minutes later I saw him walking towards me wearing his golf attire.
As soon as he laid eyes on me he stopped on the spot shaking his head and taking a deep breath before he continued walking.
"Get in the car." He instructed as he walked to the back of the car to put his things away. It took everything in me not to let him bend me over the hood of his car right now.
"Yes, Mr. Sainz" I replied knowing how much it turned him on when I called him that.
"You're gonna be the death of me." Carlos bit his lip as he shut the trunk walking to the driver's side.
During the car ride, I kept sliding my hands up Carlos' leg and leaving little kisses on his neck and cheek. Carlos was completely silent and I knew he was trying to control himself, not give in to my teasing, not wanting to let me win this time.
Once we made it to the golf course Carlos and I got in a Cart and drove to the first hole. The course was relatively empty except for a couple of workers here and there so I knew I could have fun here.
Carlos was about to start as he positioned himself but I took this as my first opportunity at our new location.
"I'll start." I quickly called before he could take his swing.
I walked towards him, stepping in front of him and as I bent down to place my ball I made sure to graze Carlos's dick. I hear Carlos groan as I straightened back up and leaned forward to position myself.
But before I could do anything else Carlos grabbed my waist pulling me closer to him and I knew I'd already achieved what I wanted. I could feel him through my skirt.
"I just got rid of it at the track are you kidding me?!" Carlos whisper shouted at me and I could only laugh.
"I love you mi amor." I turned around in Carlos's grasp bringing his lips towards mine and giving him a deep kiss.
The kiss began intensifying and Carlos was the first to pull away. "That's it we're leaving." Carlos held his hand over his pants as he started packing our things back into the cart.
"We haven't even started." I laughed and I didn't move from my spot.
"I can't golf like this so we're going home now get in the cart or I promise you'll regret it later." He grabbed my hand pulling me into the cart.
————-
Carlos kept a tight hold of my hand as we walked back to the parking lot. I decided to push it a little more and ran ahead in front of him getting to the car first.
Once inside I quickly took my panties off placing them on Carlos's seat. He opened the door and took a huge breath in quickly grabbing them and putting them in his pocket.
"I love you so much, but you've really done it this time," Carlos smirked, I laughed as he started the car and took off at a speed he'd never normally reach with me in the car.
"Joder que me has calentado demasiado." (Sh*t you've gotten me so horny) He whispered to himself but I knew what he was saying which made me more satisfied with myself. 
As soon as we got home I got out of the car before Carlos even stopped the car and ran inside pushing it further.
I nervously giggled as I heard the door shut and Carlos run after me. I jumped in our bed and just as I did Carlos had already appeared in the door shirtless and in the process of taking his pants off.
"What about your work call?" I reminded him.
"We have enough time, for like 5 rounds" he smiled jumping on the bed on top of me, his legs on either side of me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck bringing him down for a deep kiss. "I love you," I whispered as his hands explored my body.
"I love you more." He whispered. As he began leaving kissed down my neck, down my chest. "I love you so much." He whispered as he reached the hem of my skirt.
I reached for the hem of my shirt and was about to pull it off me when I felt Carlos hand pull my hands back.
"Don't." He smirked. I furrowed my brows in confusion. "You look so hot in this, let me enjoy it." You couldn't even respond to him since he began attacking your pussy.
He was rushing, something that was uncommon with Carlos since he always liked to take his time with me but I was also aware of the time crunch we were in.
I was already soaking wet from the car ride home so Carlos really ate me out for pure enjoyment because there was no need for prepping.
It was crazy how much control this man had, the way he lapped at my bud having me writhing in bed inching closer and closer to orgasm only after a few minutes of going at it.
"Carlos- please....don't stop." I moaned as Carlos picked up the speed with his fingers.
"Not quite yet Princesa." He pulled his fingers out just as I was ready to let go.
I groaned in annoyance watching as Carlos licked his fingers clean before stripping his last piece of clothing off.
He aligned himself with my entrance, tapping his dick on my pussy several times making me twitch on the bed.
"Please Carlos," I begged. It was ironic how I went from holding the power the whole day to begging Carlos to pleasure me.
"You had your fun today...it's my turn," he smirked.
He placed one of his hands beside my head as he leaned down to kiss me, it was sloppy, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth, I could still taste myself on him.
I was so distracted by the heated makeout that I didn't realize when Carlos had aligned himself again and pushed all the way inside me.
I let out a loud moan at the action which was muffled by Carlos's own mouth as he pulled me back in for a kiss.
He began pulling out slowly before pushing all the way in with a lot of speed and force making me gasp at his action once again.
I tried to kiss him back but it was proving so hard as I couldn't keep myself quiet with the way he was fucking me. His pace was confusing, he was slow when inside me but so aggressive when pushing back in, having lapses where he'd fuck me faster than his car and then going back to a slow and torturous pace stopping me from cumming.
I had no idea what he was doing but I was quickly growing limp by the way he was making me feel. My legs would tense at his actions and then relax and it felt like I had run a marathon.
"Carlos- I can't...I can't please." It was hard to even speak and even though we'd only been at it for a couple of minutes it felt like Carlos had been fucking me for hours and the way my pussy ached was unlike anything I'd felt before.
I needed a release and he wasn't giving it to me. I could tell it was hard for him too, he wanted to cum so many times but the pleasure was too much, the way I was putty in his arms was better than letting go just yet.
"Just a little longer amor." Carlos whispered as he kept kissing my neck, I was sure I was filled with marks all over my chest, collar and neck from the way Carlos had been kissing and sucking everywhere.
Even my lips hurt and where swollen from how much Carlos had been kissing me.
I clawed at his back and at this point I was sure I'd drawn blood already but he didn't seem to care.
"Carlos!" I was in the verge of tears from the way Carlos was hacking at my pussy, I'd never been so desperate to cum before.
"You ready amor." He pushed himself up pulling one of my legs over his shoulder now hitting a new angle which had my eyes rolling to the back of my head in seconds.
"I'm gonna cum!" I shouted.
"yes amor, let go." Carlos pushed in and out at just the right pace.
"Sh*t." I cursed before I let out a pornographic moan at the long-awaited release of my body. I was squirting all over Carlos's chest all while he kept thrusting his dick in and out of me.
"Ah yeah, that's it, baby." Carlos moaned before stopping his movements and laying his chest against mine. I felt his cock throbbing in me filling me up as we both came down from our high Carlos kissing under my ear and all around my neck once again.
"I love you." Carlos sighed tiredly.
"I love you more." I whispered back to him as he placed soft gentle kisses on my lips.
He layed on top of me, half his weight on the bed as we both caught our breaths but our peace was soon interrupted by his phone ringing.
Carlos grabbed it off the shelf where he'd left it. "Sh*t I'm late for the meeting he said as he grabbed his shirt wiping his chest before grabbing another off his closet and quickly dressing.
I laughed at his actions from the bed watching him rush to look decent before running out of the room.
"Run a bath amor, I'll be back in a few." Carlos hollered at me as I heard him run down the stairs.
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writting-stuff-sometimes · 2 years ago
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Lovers at Coachella Lando x Fem Reader +18 NSFW
Summary: You dated Lando for a few months, it had been a year since you broke up, Max and your friends planned a trip to Coachella that turns into more than a friends get away.
AN: Hello everyone, I'm back with something I wrote today, not proof read but I felt inspired. I'm still working on the following parts of "Just a Mistake", comments are greatly appreciated and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.
Warnings: cheating, slight smut, minors dni.
You arrived at LAX a little after 10 am, it had been an 11 hour flight from Amsterdam but you loved driving so much you decided to rent a car and drive all the way to Coachella instead of taking another flight, you were attending the festival with your friends and your "ex", another reason why you decided to drive, it gave you some time to prepare yourself to see him after the breakup a year ago.
You had dated Lando for a couple of months while you finished school in the UK, the relationship was fast and intense, but when you finished school you got a job in Amsterdam and his racing career had him traveling too much, so you decided to end things, it was a friendly breakup with a goodbye fuck, then breakfast the morning after and you two kept in touch through social media and a casual text every once in a while.
After a couple of hours you got to the airbnb Max had rented but something wasn't right, the photos he had shared were of a house big enough to fit your group of 6, but from the outside you could tell the place you had arrived to was a small apartment, the code to the key lock box worked, you opened the door slowly, afraid to be entering someone else's place, and just like you predicted it was a one room apartment with one full bed and a futon in the living room.
Your friends where supposed to be there already, and not a soul was in sight.
-Y/N Guys where are you? Max I followed the location you sent but I'm not sure I'm at the right place.
You texted to the group chat and sat on the futon, you weren't sure if you should be inside but outside was way too hot.
The beeping sound of the lock box woke you up, the golden hour light coming from the window let you know you had fallen asleep for several hours.
You checked your phone and still no answer. Everyone had left you on read, assholes. A knock on the door brought your attention back to what had woken you up, you had taken the two keys so now you had to let in whoever was outside. You walked to the door and looked through the peep hole.
"Guys c'mon, I really need to pee" Lando screamed from outside.
You opened the door and he rushed in, barely paying attention to you.
"Thank God" He threw his backpack towards the living room and rushed to the first door he found.
It was weird, the person that had you worried about this trip was the one giving you peace at the moment, at least it wasn't just you who was lost or had screwed up.
You went back to sit on the sofa and checked your phone, maybe you had no service and that's why you didn't got their answer.
"Y/N" his voice saying your name sent a shiver down your spine, you had always like how he said it. You turned to look at him and you could see a cute spark in his eyes, maybe it was just the sunset playing with his beautiful green eyes or maybe you did cause his eyes to shine in a certain way.
"Where is everybody?" he broke your chain of thought, you nervously cleared your throat before answering.
"I don't know, this is not the place Max sent, I texted them hours ago but they haven't answered"
"Ugh, I ran out of battery during the flight let me connect my phone" He went to the side of the sofa and plugged his phone, while you waited for it to come back to life you had the awkward catching up.
Finally a sound coming from his phone informed you that it was on and he called Max directly, putting him on speaker.
"Hellooo?"
"What the fuck mate, where are you? I think you got scammed...again, you suck at planning trips"
"Oh, do I? Check the group chat, call you later" Max hung up the phone and Lando looked at you matching your confused expression.
"This fucking idiot" he said looking at the screen on his phone
"What?"
"Check the chat" Lando said pinching the bridge of his nose and you did as he said.
Max F. has changed the group's name to "Lovers reunion🧡🧡, Coachella 2023"
-Max F. This week you're going to the festival, just the two of you, do everyone a favor and start dating again, we're sick of your instagram flirting and Lando's obsession with Y/N it's exhausting. Have fun ✌️
"Why are we friends with him?" Lando asked still holding the bridge of his nose trying to hide his blushing face.
"I'm not sure anymore" You said locking your phone and throwing it on the sofa.
He prepared two cups of tea so you could try to think about how the week was going to work out. At the end you decided you were going to take turns using the bed, it was big enough to fit both of you but you knew it was a dangerous game, your relationship had been spend mostly between the sheets and your conversations consisted in moaning each others names and whispering sweet nothings into each other's ear, so sleeping in the same bed, specially after a couple of drinks, was risky.
When you finished the cup of tea you went to the supermarket to buy groceries for the rest of the week, Lando was doing great this season and his trainer allowed him to do this trip just because he and Max promised him he would stick to his diet.
After the grocery store you both went for a run trying to burn all the energy and fight jet lag, when you came back to the apartment you had to check some emails from work so Lando showered first.
"All yours" he said exiting the steamy bathroom with just a towel around his hips, some water falling from his hair to his chest, this view sent a hot wave all over your body, he had always had a great physic but the changes in the last year were amazing, his back looked broader, his abs where pretty noticeable and his arms, those stupid arms that you missed around you, were so inviting.
"You can take a picture" He said in a cheeky tone as he looked at you with a raised brow.
"Sorry" You excused yourself returning to your laptop "I just need to finish this email and then I'll shower."
"Don't apologize, it's not like we haven't seen each other naked before" You blushed at his comment and kept your eyes on your screen. You couldn't fall for this, not just because it would mean Max had won, but because there was actually someone waiting for you at home, you hadn't told any of your friends yet, but you were dating someone, it was still pretty recent, he had asked you to be his girlfriend just a couple of weeks ago, so if anything happened with Lando you would be cheating, and cheating was something you were strongly against.
"I'll make diner while you shower, chicken fajitas and rice sounds good to you?"
"Yeah, sure" You said with a dry throat, you felt like a teenager.
When you came out from the shower dinner was served, clearly cooking wasn't his forte, the chicken was dry, some bits were burnt and the rice was more like a pudding, but he was proud he had done it all by himself so you let him have it. After dinner you both went to sleep, even after you had taken a sleeping pill the tension kept you both a wake, you couldn't stop thinking about him and his hot wet body after the shower. You knew what you needed to do to fall asleep but you had left your toy at home so your fingers had to be enough for the night, you couldn't help to feel a bit guilty, you were touching yourself thinking about your "ex" who was sleeping outside, what you didn't know was that he was doing the exact same thing thinking about you.
The next morning you had breakfast and got ready to enjoy the first day of the festival, Lando couldn't help to stare in awe when you walked out the room in a long black skirt with pretty deep cuts to the sides, a small white crop top and some cowboy boots, he didn't look bad himself, a sleeveless black shirt, black shorts and some colorful nikes that matched a necklace Max had given him.
During the festival you couldn't help to notice how protective Lando was, a couple of guys tried to talk to you as you were buying some beers or waiting in line for the bathroom and as soon as he saw this he would run to you and "marked" his territory by nonchalantly placing his arm over your shoulders, scaring the other guys away, this wasn't right, you two were just friends, but you couldn't deny you loved how his arm felt around you.
The great music and couple of beers had smoothed things between you two, and when you came back to the apartment you started making diner together while chatting about how amazing the day had been.
The kitchen was small, so in order to move around it you had to be very close, he walked behind you and took you strongly by your hips to move you a bit to the side so he could open a drawer, his touch made you gasp and he just smiled when he heard the effect his hands had on you, but he didn't say anything, he liked this game and he wanted to see how far he could go.
You tried to get some plates but they were too high, when he saw you struggling he walked towards you.
"Let me" he said as he stretched behind you reaching for two dinner plates, his body was so close to yours that when his shirt rose up from the stretch, his warm skin touched yours where the crop top left it uncovered, you felt your heart skip a beat.
"Here, babe" he handed you the plates, the nickname bringing amazing memories back.
"Thanks" you answered in a breathy whisper.
While you had dinner you couldn't help to stare lovingly at him, he looked so happy talking about how amazing this season was going, you had seen him struggle the previous one and him being so happy filled your heart.
When you finished dinner you sent him to the shower while you did the dishes, he insisted on helping you but he had done them the night before.
"Your turn" he whispered against your ear making you jump as you finished drying a glass, the scare making you drop it but his quick reflexes stopping it from hitting the table, you turned to complain but you had forgotten how small that kitchen was, so you found yourself caged between the kitchen counter and his strong, naked, wet torso.
You looked into his eyes, then down to his lips, they looked so plumped and inviting, you bit your lower lip trying to fight the urge to attack his mouth.
"Baby, please tell me you want this too" He whispered as one of his hands traced the elastic of your skirt from your belly button, around your hips and stopping on your lower back, causing goosebumps to cover your body.
"Yes" you whispered in a low growl and finally joined your lips, his hands pulled you strongly against him as yours went to grab his wet curls, he pulled you up and you wrapped your legs around his hips causing the towel to fall end left him completely naked. He walked towards the bedroom, he laid you gently over the bed, you couldn't help to stare at his naked body, every freckle, every crease, every vein looked so inviting.
"It's not fair, I'm naked and you're way too covered, love" he said pouting his lips, he might look like a man but he still had this childish side that you loved.
You smiled at his reaction and removed your top and the strapless bra, you were about to remove your skirt but his hands stoped yours.
"Please, let me" he took the elastic from your skirt and pulled it down your legs, softly touching your skin. "So perfect" he said as he stared at your half naked body "Let's keep the thong a bit longer" he placed himself over you, attacking your lips again.
That night you had the most amazing sex in a long time, Lando knew your body better than any other guy you had been with, he knew exactly when to be soft and caring and when you wanted him to be rough and wild.
The next couple of days anyone that saw you would think you were a couple, you spend the days holding hands, hugging, kissing, having amazing sex in every inch of that apartment, basically having the time of your life.
It was Monday, you had planed with the group to go to LA when the festival was over but the chances of people recognizing Lando over there were higher, so you just decided to stay at the small town and enjoy the anonymity.
You knew time was running out, you were supposed to return to your normal life on Saturday and you had two options, talk about the situation or go to the airport, say your goodbyes and leave as if nothing had happened. You planned on having the conversation on Friday night, but on Wednesday an unexpected call pushed things forward.
You were lying naked in bed, Lando's left hand over your shoulders playing with your left fingers as your other hand rested on his thigh, when your phone rang, Michael's name on your screen.
You took the phone fast.
"I need to take this" you said as you put on Lando's shirt over your body and walked to the livingroom closing the door behind you.
"Hello?" you answered in a low voice.
"Hi, baby, how are you? Haven't heard from you in a couple of days, everything ok?" You had been MIA on social media for the last couple of days and he was worried.
"Hi, baby, yeah everything's ok, it's just we had a change of plans and decided to stay in Coachella for the rest of the week instead of going to LA" you whispered. afraid Lando would hear you.
"Oh, ok, why are you whispering?"
"Ummm, we got here late last night and a couple of the girls are sleeping"
"Isn't it like 5pm?"
"Yes, we went to have brunch and we had a couple mimosas, they're resting because we're going out tonight"
"I didn't knew they had nightclubs at Coachella, I thought it was a small town"
"They have some bars" From the corner of your eye you saw the bedroom door open and freaked out a bit "I have to go, but call you tomorrow, love you, bye" you hung up fast but the look on Lando's face let you know he had heard your call.
"Who was that?" he asked in a serious tone, you froze. "Y/n, I asked you something" you could hear he was angry and hurt. "You're dating someone?" You turned to look at your hands and just said yes with your head.
"So, this is just a fling? a game?"
"No! Lando, it's not like that"
"Where you planing on telling me you have a boyfriend? where you planing on telling him about us?"
"Lando, I..., well..."
"Just tell me the truth" he begged in an exhausted tone.
"Listen" you held his hand and pulled him to sit by your side. "Yes I have a boyfriend, but I didn't knew things were going to go this way, as far as I knew this was a week away with friends, not just the two of us, and I know I should have told you about Michael when we talked about our current live's but... I really liked how having you back felt" you looked into his eyes trying to read in them if he felt the same way or if this had all been a mistake.
"I like having you back too" his thumb traced small circles over your hand. "You think we can do it right this time?" He let go of your hand and took your face in his hands pulling you to touch your forehead with his "I don't want to loose you again". His soft warm breath caressing your skin.
"I don't want to loose you either" You whispered as you looked into his green eyes " I love you" you finally said out loud, his eyes widened in shock, then he smiled.
"I love you too" He said pulling you in for a kiss, he pushed you to lay on the sofa and placed himself between your legs. The kissed turned a bit wilder as his hand sneaked under the shirt and groped your right boob, you moaned at the touch and he took this chance to remove the shirt completely.
"You really think we can do it?" you asked as you layed naked over the sofa.
"I think so, we can ask George how he and Carmen do it, or you can quit and travel around with me"
"Thanks for the offer but this ain't the 1950's anymore"
"I'm just saying. I don't want to loose you again" he held you tight against his chest.
"You won't, we'll work this out" You kissed his lips gently. "I'm just afraid of one thing"
"What is that?"
"Max is going to be so incredibly annoying when he finds out"
"Ugh, I know"
Tag List:@ricsaigaslec
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suddencolds · 4 months ago
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sending u a star!! ⭐️ sorry i wanted to go thru and pick a specific fic but im too sleepy lol but any yvescent piece u had thoughts on :D
[from Fanfic Writers - Director's Cut]
hello!!! THANK YOU N, IT MADE ME REALLY HAPPY TO RECEIVE THIS 🥹🥹🥹
I also realize am responding to this like 2 months late :') I thought for a long time on which fic to comment on, and now that I've posted Atypical Occurrence pt. 2, I thought I might as well write out my thoughts on it while they're still fresh and bc it's close to my heart (I hope that's okay hehe)
⚠️❗️ Warning that I will be attaching snippets from my deleted drafts below!! Please read the published installment before you proceed to read this post. This is a little embarrassing... all I can say is that those drafts were deleted for a reason 🥴
There’s a grocery store that’s a ten minute drive from Vincent’s apartment. 
I rewrote this scene... 3 or 4 times? It gave me sooo much trouble 😭 I think in the first draft Vincent actually tears up tasting Yves's cooking. (I know, Vincent, I want Yves to cook for me too 😭❗️)
Terrible (ugh 😭) first draft screenshot under the cut (screenshot = old draft, indented quote = current draft):
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(Yves pulling up a chair at the end... you can tell he is totally at a loss on what to do 😭 and I, too, was at a loss on what to do)
I wrote this ^, and I was like... this moment just feels unearned? I personally despise outlining + I love going in (mostly) blind. Sometimes the first draft works out of the box, and in this case, the first draft (and the second draft, and the third draft) were all soooo bad that I literally had to take a month-long break to regain my confidence 😭
Anyways! I knew right away that Y was going to cook something for V (it's mentioned here and there throughout the series that he is a really good cook 😭 And in part 3 of Fool Me Twice, Yves promises to make Vincent something more ambitious than hot chocolate. He's finally kept his promise now, 12 installments later 🙇‍♀️ )
From draft 2, there was only one scene which I was sure I was going to include in the final draft, aka, spared from the recycling bin. (But I just checked the final draft and it's nowhere to be seen?? Interesting.)
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I would have managed fine on my own.
On this (deleted) scene, and more broadly: I think it's important to me that Yves recognizes that Vincent is self-sufficient in many ways: when Vincent says he will be fine alone, he is telling the truth. Yves doesn't have to stay—he recognizes this too, when he heads for the door in the published draft.
Still, Yves stays, of course—initially, because he insists, and later, because Vincent asks :)
“…You won’t leave unless I eat, then,” Vincent says. He says it evenly enough that it barely registers as a question. Yves smiles at him. It’s not a wrong conclusion. “Exactly,” he says.
It was really, really fun writing the differences between caretaker!Vincent (in Fool Me Twice pt. 5) and caretaker!Yves 😊 I usually don't like to say too much on the end of character analysis, bc I like my work to be interpreted as it is: the text is canon, and everything I'm saying here is just me yapping on about my headcanons. (I have been roasted for saying this by a dear friend of mine, probably rightfully so:)
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With that disclaimer: Vincent to me (I can only speculate, etc) is a very no-bullshit caretaker (he likes to enforce whatever will lead most directly to the person's recovery; he actually worries a lot, but his worry often manifests as frustration/snappishness), whereas Yves is a lot more permissive and, for the most part, manages his stress—he is the eldest sibling, after all! I think he does what he can to make it a more tolerable experience :)
“So this is just a Yves thing.” “What? Showing consideration for my friends?”  “Showing consideration is one thing,” Vincent answers. “You could have left after dropping off the files. You would still have been showing your consideration.” “I guess that’s true. But at that point, I was already here,” Yves says, with a shrug. “It seemed logical to check up on you.” “Well, now you’ve checked up on me,” Vincent says. “So you can go.” Yves supposes this is true.
Vincent takes things very literally (and I think he's actually quite aware of the social niceties around these kinds of things, which is in part why he is so skeptical to assume that Yves means anything more.)
There’s a hand on his sleeve, tugging. Yves goes very still. When Vincent notices what he’s done, alarm flashes through his expression, and he pulls his hand away as if he’s burned.  “Sorry,” he murmurs, again. And just like that, he’s back to how he always is—his expression perfectly, carefully neutral, in a way that can only be constructed. “I’m sorry.” But Yves doesn’t forget what he’s seen. “You can go.”
This scene means a lot to me!! It took a loooot of editing to hammer into place (the doc I wrote it on is titled "fixing this scene would FIX ME" haha). I think this is the first time Vincent has actively sought out Yves's comfort 😭 And he regrets it almost as soon as he's said it, because he does not do things without a good justification, and wanting something—even wanting it badly—does not feel like a sufficient justification to him. But give Yves an inch and he will take a mile!! He will take a hundred miles!! That is just the kind of person that Yves is.
I was talking with some friends previously about how I wanted to write Vincent reaching out for Yves. How I wanted Vincent to, through the haze of fever, cross a line that he'd previously not allowed himself to cross :') I think it is a time-old trope to have someone, in their feverish delirium, utter something embarrassing and utterly uncharacteristic of them, or divulge something that has been difficult for them to say.
This whole time drafting, I was thinking, how can I set up a moment like that and have it feel earned? How badly would he have to be feeling? What kind of setup would justify getting past his 590859 mental defenses? (I do not like to outline, but sometimes I do have an emotional beat that I have in mind, and then I have to work backwards to figure out the setup. This took SO much working back from, and I really thought about it for very long). I was almost sure that Vincent would regret it immediately after too 😭
Yves opens his arms out in offering, tries on a smile. “I’ve been told I give good hugs. Good enough to cure all ailments, obviously.”
Ahh, so Y offering V a hug is inspired by a fic I read 6 years ago, where a character offers another a hug as a joke and then the other character surprises them by taking it. Yves is really offering here, but I think he recognizes that joking about it will make it easier for Vincent to accept 😭
Yves has hugged a fair share of people in his life. He doesn’t think he’d be able to list them all if he were asked to. It’s different, though, being so close to Vincent—so close that Yves can reach out and let his hair fall through his fingertips. He can lift up his palm and feel the rigid line of his spine, the slope of his shoulders; he could reach out and trace the dip of his wrist, the form of his hand. Vincent’s chin digs slightly into his left shoulder. His nose is turned slightly into Yves’s neck—like this, he is almost perfectly still. Yves can feel the warm brush of air against his neck whenever Vincent exhales. He is so close that Yves is afraid, for a moment, that he might hear how badly his heart is racing.
I have nothing to say about this paragraph except that I edited it for like 40 minutes straight.
Last thing!!
“We had a habit of keeping the heat off, in the winters, and closing the windows.”
The scene near the end (where Vincent tells Yves about his childhood) is actually the scene which came the most easily to me. I also did not write it last; I jumped around. It took me around 1.5 hours. (By comparison, simply editing the scene before it took 11 😵‍💫)
I did always intend for Vincent to disclose... well, /something/ about himself. (You can tell that when I plan, that's really as far as I plan LOL)
Anyways, when Vincent wakes Yves up (after Yves falls asleep at his desk), I initially wrote it so that Yves wakes Vincent from a nightmare.
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But (as direct a link to vulnerability as that might have been,) Vincent would not talk about his nightmare 😭 So I switched gears.
I also specifically wanted to write about Vincent's experience being cared for growing up. I think something that's culturally resonant with me (as an Asian American, and the eldest daughter to immigrant parents) is like, the ways families can and cannot say I love you—the quiet things that are done in place of a more direct expression of it. The way that while unspoken consideration can speak volumes, it can just as easily be invisible. But even now, writing this post, I feel like it's difficult for me to untangle the feelings and experiences I've had into something that feels sufficiently multifaceted.
Vincent has a different childhood from I do (it is probably worth noting that I do not project onto any of my characters, nor do I use them as a vessel to get my own experiences across). I think I'm just drawn to writing tricky/non-straightforward expressions of love, in general :) Sometimes that is the kind of love that resonates with me most.
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foultastemusic · 8 months ago
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Power of noises and vaginas - a thought
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For two decades now, post-hardcore has been considered a sub-genre descended from hardcore, which in turn was considered a sub-genre descended from punk, and which in turn... well, it's not important to put musical genres and sub-genres into boxes purposely organized to fit people and their ways of dressing and other useless aesthetics promoted by media/digital cultures. But for two decades now, post-hardcore has been asserting itself as a well-defined genre, with well-defined textural characteristics, as well as certain types of chords and experimentalist riffs in the nostalgic-depressive world, heartfelt screams with a poetically sad story to tell in the most imperfect and dirty way possible, where D.I.Y. is valued in the various arts that embrace recorded and live music.
In 2003, music researcher Jessica Hopper wrote the review "Emo: Where the Girls Aren't" for a column in Punk Planet 56. It was already in the cradle of the emo thing at the beginning of the century that we noticed an absence of girls at concerts - at first there was no mention of them playing or making music, but even their absence from the public as listeners / active participants in this subculture and community. Girls began to enter this world in a very controversial and unrevolutionary way, but always with all the freedom.
Obviously, through the promotion that took place on the internet on the various platforms, the genre reached more stages, more people, more musical cultures and gained a large structure. Girls (like everyone else) start going to these places, often through an interest they already had in other genres such as indie, punk, metal, etc., and as soon as they buy a ticket to go to a concert, we have a group of 50 young men talking about love, depression, nature and other "weaknesses" seen through the eyes of toxic contemporary masculinity. And girls are welcome here. They will always be welcome until they start making music out of fear, because in punk they've already had the chance to revolutionize themselves and post-hardcore/screamo gives voice and space to boys who also suffer from prejudice.
Hopper talks about this band that dedicates a song (Strike Anywhere - Refusal, 2001) to the girls about their problems and lives, and claims that we need more of that: protection and respect. But this hasn't happened and girls still don't feel encouraged and empowered: they are an inspiration for the experiences and texts of this subculture, they are desired as artists and recreationists, and even though they aren't sexualized or repudiated in all cases, they feel obliged to get on the boys' knees to make it too, perhaps even better. A fight against meritocracy, male dependency in order to learn or be promoted and supported, where we are ALL programmed to think that we have a sex organ between our legs and that public reception is influenced by this: either in a positive or a negative way.
«And so I watch these girls at emo shows more than I ever do the band. I watch them sing along, see what parts they freak out over. I wonder if this does it for them, if seeing these bands, these dudes on stage resonates and inspires them to want to pick up a guitar or drum sticks. Or if they just see this as something dudes do, because there are no girls, there is no them up there. I wonder if they are being thwarted by the FACT that there is no presentation of girls as participants, but rather, only as consumers – or if we reference the songs directly – the consumed. I wonder if this is where music will begin and end for them. If they can be radicalized in spite of this. If being denied keys to the clubhouse or airtime will spur them into action».
- Jessica Hopper (2003)
Girls are not yet part of this music, or at least not in a direct or comfortable way. Perhaps through music promotion, the organization of concerts, photographs and poster designs, perhaps through their words adopted by these boys or the desires and utopias of an all-embracing subcultural milieu that, although they may all agree and share the same idea, refuses to accept that they are not welcome altogether, completely. Perhaps they are, but ever since men began to dominate this music or all music, they have needed reasons to pick up a guitar without the issue of sexual gender being brought into the listening experience or even to politics. Would it be better to ignore the gender issue at all costs (until this argument is normalized) or to promote the importance of giving girls a voice to help empower them, as has been happening in punk and hardcore (until this issue becomes part of the contemporary elements of screamo)? Maybe no one has the answers, but the reality is that girls continue to enjoy and consume this music without drumsticks in their hands.
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cyberphuck · 4 months ago
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@satans-codpiece I had to upload this to ao3 because tumblr was getting very glitchy about me writing a fic directly into the text box Context: Dios is an "Angel AI," a processor core so advanced that even he isn't entirely sure how he works. Gearhead is autistic and his special interest is Killer Robot. Here's some stuff about them or here's a story I wrote in the same universe that's about robot fucking.
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feelmyskinonyourskin · 1 year ago
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Fight Club [Frank's Version]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x (AFAB)Reader x Frank Castle
Summary: If this seems familiar, that's cause it is. When @hellskitchenswhore sent this prompt I gave two options: Either Matt fucks you before your next session so he's dripping out of you while you're training with Frank so you "remember who you belong to" ORRRRRR he busts up your session and you end up having a three way with him and Frank in the gym. She chose the former but the later has honestly been bouncing around my brain since then and I finally wrote it. The fic is the same until Matt follows reader to the gym, then the fun begins...
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Warnings: 18+/SMUT. No use of Y/N. Female/AFAB reader (use of terms like girlfriend and female anatomy.) Established relationship. Brief mention of an active shooter at an office, Frank and Matt using pet names like sweetheart, mentions and accusations of cheating but no actual cheating, Unprotected sex, Fingering and hand job, Oral (M & F receiving,) THREE WAY! A TRIP TO PARIS!, P in V, Creampie, etc.
WC: 7,200
*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*
“That’s it sweetheart, last round I promise.” Frank encourages you as you take swings at the bag in front of you. 
You’ve been at this for at least an hour and your arms feel like jello. You can’t remember the last time you were breathing this hard that wasn’t from Matt bending you in half. Jumping directly into the Hudson would have kept you drier than the amount of sweat currently pouring down your face and exhausted body.
“Atta girl, atta girl!” Frank praises as you take your last few swings, arms too weak to make any real movement of the bag
“Alright, you’re getting the hang of it now. Few more sessions and you’ll be out there with Red every night.”
“Pfft I don’t know about that, Frank. I’m just trying to make sure I can protect myself is all.”
“So remind me again why you didn’t ask him to teach you this?”
It started last week. One of your favorite coworkers was going through a bitter divorce and her estranged husband decided to confront her at the office and pulled a gun. You heard two shots ring out from your desk and feared the worst - all the active shooter situations you'd seen on TV were happening live in your life. Fortunately, as you fled for safety, Jerry from accounting was able to disarm and tackle the guy before he could hurt anyone thanks to his black belt in Jiujitsu.
Even though the incident ended okay, it had spooked you enough to get yourself some defense classes, for all those times when your vigilante boyfriend was too far uptown to protect you at a moment’s notice and Jerry wasn’t around to save the day.
Matt was always overprotective of you and you hated to think how he’d react to the incident, so you hadn’t told him. When the story hit the news, you lied (via text so he couldn’t detect it) and said it happened on a different floor and you didn’t even notice. 
You also didn’t tell him about your decision to learn self-defense. Matt was more than qualified to teach you, but for some reason, you just didn’t feel comfortable asking for his help with this. Maybe it was his propensity to throw himself into helping those he cared about, you especially, that gave you hesitation to give him another thing to prioritize over himself. Maybe it was just how good he was at fighting that made you not want to “be a beginner” in front of him (not that Matt would ever judge you about anything.)
In fairness to you, you hadn’t intended to learn it from his frenemy and former client, but you’d showed up at the boxing gym near your work and the gruff men inside intimidated you so much, you bolted out the door before signing up for a class, tears welling in your eyes when you quite literally bumped into Frank on the street.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, nodding towards the door of the boxing gym
“I thought… Look I want to learn how to fight. Or at least how to defend myself. This place is close to work but um… might not be the right fit for me.”
“Why don’t you just ask Red?”
“It’s a long story,” you replied with a sigh “but I really don’t want to ask him. Or for him to even know about it. So can you please not mention you saw me here or we had this conversation?”
“Okay, can I ask why not?”
“You can but I’m not gonna answer.” 
Frank chuckled and shook his head
“Well if you want to learn to fight, this isn’t the best place. I know Vinny the owner and he’s a shit teacher. But if you want to learn for real, I’m happy to teach you.”
“What? Wait really? Wait, Frank you know how to fight?”
“Sweetheart, I was a Marine for over 15 years, ‘course I know how to fight.”
“And you’d do that for me?”
“Course. You’re Red's girl. What times’ he leave for his little night job?”
“9:00”
“Great, meet me here at 9:30. Tonight.”
And that was how you ended up here, collapsing on the gym mat beneath you with a groan.
“Not bad for your first time. We just gotta get you in the habit of resetting your hands after every hit, and you’ll be golden” Frank praises again
“Oh yeah, I forgot, always protect the face so I don’t end up lookin like you.” you jest
“Ouch” he feigns hurt with a smirk on his face “Red teach you to swing low like that?”
“Nah Castle, that’s all me. It’s part of why he loves me. Same time tomorrow?”
“Sure. See you then.”
By the time Matt returns home, you’re showered and in bed, sore muscles pulsing every time you twist and turn in your sleep. Between the smell of sweaty clothes in the hamper and the scent of your freshly washed skin rubbing against silk sheets, plus the heat radiating off your sore muscles as he crawls into bed silently beside you, Matt figures it out pretty quickly.
‘She started going back to the gym. Hmm. Have to ask her about that in the morning.’ he thinks as he drifts off beside you.
You awake in the morning to gentle hands rubbing at your back. 
“Mmm morning Matty” you mumble, still pulling yourself out of sleep
“Morning sweetheart.”
“What are you doing?” you ask as he works a little lower down your spine
“Giving you a massage. I can tell you’re sore. When did you start going back to the gym?”
“Just yesterday. And you’re right I’m super sore. Thank you, this is a nice way to start my day.”
“Of course sweetheart. What gym did you go to? Did you have fun?” he inquires
His innocent prodding has you waking fully quickly, trying to cover your tracks without outright lying and getting caught.
“Oh this gym near work. Couple people in the office recommended it. And yeah I had fun.” 
All truths.
“That’s nice. Mmmm do you want to start the coffee or shower first?” he asks, seemingly letting the subject go
Perfect.
As you rush around to get ready for work, Matt grabs the laundry hamper from the bathroom, walking it over to the washing machine. Your dirty workout clothes from the night before sit on top, now less potent that they have completely dried. But he can’t help but feel like something smells off.
Sure it smells like you - natural scent mixed with your fading sweat, but there’s something else. Something familiar. A very subtle hint of spiciness mixed with… is that gunpowder? 
‘Weird’ Matt thinks to himself, but brushes it off a moment later, the smell not strong enough to really garner more than a passing thought.
But three times he does the laundry in a row, he smells it. It’s so subtle, he might not even give it another thought, but it’s just so damn familiar. 
It takes another week for him to ask you about it.
“Hey sweetheart, you’ve been going to the gym a lot lately,” he mentions over dinner 
“Mmmhmm. Yeah, can you feel my muscles growing? I’m feeling stronger.” you reply
“Yeah. What exactly are you doing at the gym? It’s really working.”
“Oh a little cardio, a little strength, you know…” you skirt around, being intentionally vague
“That’s good. Is it like a class or?”
“Um sort of. Just this guy at the gym, he’s been helping me. You know, walking me through the exercises.” 
Also technically the truth.
“That’s good. Well, I’m glad you found something you like.”
‘Okay, so that guy must smell like this. She’s close enough to him in a warm sweaty gym, so there’s a little bit on her clothes. Makes sense.’ Matt thinks to himself. But he still can’t shake the feeling that that smell is so familiar.
Two weeks later, Matt is out on patrol when he hears a familiar heartbeat on the fire escape a few floors down from where he’s perched.
Frank.
“You just gonna sit there all night, listinin’ Red?” Frank asks
“Very funny Frank.” Matt says, hopping down to Frank’s level
“Haven’t seen you in a while” Matt comments
“Been busy. Madani’s been usin’ me more.”
“Oh don’t tell me you’re going legit Frank.”
“Not a shot in hell, Red. But gotta pay the bills somehow.”
And then a strong breeze blows. Frank’s signature blend of sweat, aftershave, and metallic mixed with gunpowder from all the weapons he handles overwhelms Matt’s nose. Matt cocks his head in confusion. It’s so damn familiar. But of course it is, it’s Frank. How many times has Matt been on a rooftop with him like this, bs-ing the night away while monitoring the city?
After catching up for a bit, they go their separate ways, the rest of Matt’s evening turning uneventful.
He returns home to you shortly after 3 am, your soft breathing as you sleep calms him as he strips off his suit. 
You hadn’t met with Frank tonight. He said something about following a lead and you were perfectly fine with that, you needed an off day. 
Matt curls up in bed beside you, resting his head on your back and falling asleep quickly.
The next night, Frank is really putting you through your paces and you swear you’re ready to collapse when he finally calls it for the night. 
Per usual, Frank offers to walk you home when you’re done and for the first time since you started coming here, you accept the offer since you stayed a bit later than usual tonight. At least until you can make it to Hell’s Kitchen and within range of Matt. 
You and Frank make small talk as you go and eventually, the chill of the autumn air has you shivering in your still-damp-from-sweat workout clothes. 
“Here sweetheart,” Frank says with a lopsided smirk, slinging his worn jacket over your shoulders. 
“Thank you Castle. Always a gentleman.”
“Course, ‘specially for Red’s girl.”
You make it to 35th and 10th, close enough to home and hand his jacket back to him, parting ways with a nod and a polite “goodnight.”
The later hour coupled with the particularly intense session has you collapsing into bed without even removing your shoes, let alone your gym clothes.
When Matt returns a few hours later, the smell hits him like a truck. 
‘I swear to god Frank, if you’re bleeding on my couch again…’ Matt thinks to himself. 
But when he enters the apartment the only heartbeat he can hear is yours. He inches slowly toward the bedroom and rolls the door open gently. He reaches down to feel the soft lycra of your leggings on your body, careful not to stir you from your slumber. The smell of your sweat clinging to your clothes fills his senses, way more potent than normal plus that other scent you’re bringing home from the gym. Matt pauses to wonder why he thought Frank was here but then it hits him. 
Oh my god. The mystery smell from the gym you’ve been bringing home is Frank. 
But how could you smell like… 
And then the gears in his head start turning. And he feels like a goddamn idiot. 
You had been going to the gym. But not to work out. You were cheating. With Frank of all people. And you’d made the critical error of not showering when you got home. 
Matt begins to pace the apartment, rubbing at his chin as his thoughts move a million miles a minute about what to do. 
Did he confront you? Did he confront Frank?! What should he even say?
The sun rises and he’s still pacing and contemplating when his alarm rings out. He shuts it off before it can wake you too. He needs more time to think about his next move. He gets ready for work quietly and slips out the door before you awake. 
You find it odd you haven’t heard from Matt all day. When you woke up you saw his Devil suit in a heap in the living room and there was no damage to it or blood on it. So you knew he had come home and was relatively okay. But it was so odd for him to leave without a goodbye kiss or go this long in the day without so much as a text. But he had been busy with a heavy caseload lately. You finally break shortly after lunch and text him first. 
“Hey Matty. Know you’re busy but I miss you and I love you. Dinner tonight?”
“Can’t. Working late. Don’t wait up.” He responds
That was… oddly curt. But again you figure he’s stressed and busy. 
Matt on the other hand has been wracked with stress all day. It only took an hour of his constant pacing and fidgeting for Foggy to break and finally ask.
“Matt. What’s up?”
“I think… I think I’m being cheated on.” Matt confesses. He leaves the Frank part out of the equation, wanting Foggy to be as objective as possible about his response. 
“What could possibly make you think that?”
“She’s been going to the gym like every night for a month now right when I leave for patrol and she came home last night smelling like… another man. And she’s been smelling like it a little the whole month but last night it was all over her”
“So did you ask her?”
“Well no but…” 
“Matt you are literally a human lie detector and yet here you are jumping to conclusions instead of doing the rational thing and just asking her.”
And maybe Matt would have taken Foggy’s advice if he thought you were just cheating with your gym trainer. But this was Frank. And that made it all the more complicated. 
Matt decides finally what he’s going to do. He’s going to follow you tonight, catch you in the act and confront both of you together.  
Matt still hasn’t come home when you depart for your nightly workout session, but little do you know he’s there. Pacing on the roof, waiting for you to leave. As soon as he hears the lobby door shut behind you, he springs in to action, taking the stairs two at a time into the apartment and changing out of his lawyer suit and into his devil suit as quickly as possible, making sure not to lose your heartbeat now a block and a half away. He makes up for the lost distance quickly and is practically on top of you by the time you enter the gym. 
“Hey Frank!” you call out as you enter
“Hey. I’ll be over in a second.” he replies from the locker rooms
Matt crouches down by the side of the building, just close enough to the windows to hear everything going on inside. 
You’re almost done wrapping your hands when Frank emerges from the locker room. 
“Alright let’s start with our usual, then you can have a go at me again.”
“I don’t know Frank. You really wore me out last night. I woke up still in my clothes and shoes.”
Matt knew it. He fucking knew it. 
“Tough shit sweetheart,” Frank responds with a chuckle. “And what did your boyfriend think about that huh? He got any idea what we’re doing here yet?”
“Honestly I don’t know. I didn’t see or hear from him at all today. Which is weird even for him. And no I don’t think he’s figured it out yet.”
“You’re gonna have to tell him eventually”
“No, I don’t”
“So what you’re just gonna keep sneakin’ around, becoming a prize fighter without him gettin’ suspicious? Shit even a regular guy would raise some alarm bells by now, but especially Red and all his … shit”
“Frank, I am not here trying to become a prize fighter. I’m just trying to get strong enough to defend myself if he’s not around to do it. That’s all”
Matt’s heart drops. 
How could he possibly think you were cheating? And with Frank of all people. He felt like an idiot. Like a total asshole. Sure you had lied, well, technically withheld the truth and he’s sure you’ll explain why. And he’s hurt if you wanted to learn to fight that you didn’t come to him.  But this was not nearly as egregious a stain on your relationship as he thought it was. 
“I don’t know. Think you should tell him. Show him your moves. Shit, you’ve gotten a couple good hits on me these last few days. I'm sure you could give Red a run for his money.” 
“I am not fighting Matt, Francis.” You say with an eye roll
In that moment, Matt decided this had gone far enough. He needed to come clean. He slipped quietly through the door into the studio. 
“Oh I think she absolutely could, Frank. Especially if you’ve been teaching her”
Your spine goes icy cold at the sound of the voice behind you. Both you and Frank jump with a gasp and whip your heads to look at the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, standing in front of you. 
“Matt… I” 
“It’s okay sweetheart,” Matt says, hands up in surrender before reaching up to remove his mask
“Shit Red, you been here this whole time?” Frank asks nonchalantly 
Matt nods, shame painted on his face.
“Matt, I can explain…”
“No. I need to explain.” Matt holds a hand up, interrupting your thought  “I followed you here because I thought you were cheating. With Frank. And I know now that’s not what’s happening. And I’m sorry for not just asking you.” 
Frank scoffs and holds back a low chuckle while your face softens in empathy.
“Oh Matt. I’m so sorry that I did anything to make you think that. That’s not at all what’s happening here.”
“Really Red, you think I’m that kind of guy?”
“No... I don’t know.”
“Nah, wouldn’t lay a finger on your girl. Unless it was okay with you.”
Matt shakes his head.
“Now that I’m here though, I wouldn’t say no to a little demonstration of what you’ve been teaching her.”
Frank immediately looks to you, reading the signs on your face to make sure it’s okay. You nod. Now that Matt knows, its time to show him.
“Kay sweetheart, just a few rounds on the bag. Like we been practicing.” Frank reassures
You step up to the bag and look to Frank once more. A soft smile spreads across his face and he nods in encouragement. 
You take a few swings. Jab, Cross, Left hook. Like Frank normally has you do. Not even thirty seconds in, Matt speaks up.
“Woah woah woah. Frank, you’ve been letting her hit like this and not correcting her form?”
“Yes. Wait, what the hell is wrong with her form?”
“She’s too far away from the bag.” Matt places his hands on your shoulders, maneuvering you with slight adjustments and positions his feet right beside yours, pressing his body tight against your back. “I can hear your shoulder joint rubbing every time you jab, which means you’re over-extending that left arm. Makes you put way too much energy into each hit, you’re gonna wear yourself out way faster. Here. Step closer.”
You take a few more swings. Matt’s breath is against your ear and you can’t help but feel a chill run down your spine straight to your core. God, his body is warm usually, but being flush behind you as you move and hit, he practically feels like white-hot iron against you. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and it’s not just from the few swings you’ve taken. You know Matt can hear it and is going to play you like a fiddle. His own wicked form of punishment for not telling him about your training.
“Go ahead, gimme a few more, I want to feel how your body moves. See just what else Frank has been teaching you wrong.”
Frank throws his arms up in offense as you try a few more punches.
“See? More power, less effort.”
You grin, happy to finally be sharing something Matt is clearly so knowledgeable and passionate about with him. Craning your neck, you mesh your lips with his in excitement and only pull away when Frank loudly clears his throat and you remember that he is still there watching the two of you.
“Eh, so you gave her a minor tweak. Still say how I had her doing it was perfectly fine.”
Matt finally steps away from you, turning to face Frank.
“Sure Castle, but I think the real testament to your teaching skills is how she does with an actual partner.”
Matt turns his attention back to you. His hands drop from your shoulders, running down your back lightly and coming to rest on your hips. He plants a soft kiss right under your ear. His stubble is coarse against your skin, sending goosebumps across your flesh, your toes curling into the squishy mat beneath you.
“You throw any actual punches at him yet?” he asks
“A few. Landed some of them too.”
“Let her show you Murdock, maybe she can knock that cocky attitude out of you like I never could.”
Matt chuckles and shakes his head. He steps away from you, holding out a hand and leading you to the center of the room, the area in the gym dedicated to partner sparring.
You stand a few feet apart from your boyfriend, nervous to demonstrate on him. You’re not arrogant enough to think just a few weeks of training with Frank puts you anywhere near Matt’s skill level. But you also know that Matt loves you and will probably take it easy on you just to be supportive and also not hurt you, so you may just be able to get a few swings in. You don’t need the guilt of piling onto his already long list of previous injuries and scars.
Frank approaches behind you, placing a hand on your arm in reassurance as he leans close to your ear.
“Remember that knee to crotch move I showed you last week? The one I said to only use if some creep comes at you head on and you need to take him out quick?” 
You nod, already shifting your feet towards the set up position for that move, trying to activate the muscle memory to bring it back into your brain.
“Well” Frank continued, “might not be a bad time to try it.”
You chuckle at his suggestion.
“Frank, you know Matt can hear all of this right?” 
You glance over at your boyfriend, amused smirk painted across his lips as he stretches his perfectly toned bicep across his chest, warming up for your little face off. He’s discarded his tight black shirt in a pile beside him. A cheap bid to distract you from the task at hand with his incredible body that he knows you can’t resist.
“Yeah, just figure if he wants to be a jealous fucker why not rile him up some more? Plus it’s the least he deserves for thinking the worst from you and I, of all people.”
You try not to laugh at the statement. Frank’s askew moral compass being perfectly fine with the regular amount of murder he commits, but thinking being a taken woman’s side piece crosses a line.
He squeezes the hand still resting on your bicep in reassurance before stepping away with a wink, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin, radiating from the point where the warmth of his touch still lingers. Frank always keeps it incredibly professional around you and you know he is pushing against the line of flirting just to get into Matt’s head.
“Ready sweetheart?” Matt asks as you step towards him, gloved fists by your face prepared to fight
“Yeah” you reply and Matt also assumes his stance, nodding in your direction as a go ahead
“Ding ding, round one!” Frank remarks
You go for the right hook first, but Matt easily blocks the hit. You throw a few more punches, all of which Matt dodges and blocks without looking like he’s putting any effort into it. He’s cocky and sly in the way that he moves, refusing to even take one swing at you but making you work stupidly hard just to get nowhere.
Fine. New strategy, you decide.
Swinging a roundhouse knee in the air, you connect directly with his ribs. The oof sounds he lets out gives you a rush of adrenaline knowing you legitimately got a hit on him. It’s incredibly short lived as he’s quick to recover. Rushing towards you, he tackles you to the mat, knocking the wind out of your lungs as your ribs connect with the floor. He’s pinned you to the point where you can barely squirm, knee pressed firmly between your legs while his arms cage you in place.
“Nice try baby, but not good enough.” he whispers in your ear, shifting his leg to provide just a little friction against your core
“Woah, take it easy on her. She’s still a beginner. She’s here to learn, not have you be an asshole to her about something you thought she did.” Frank interjects, pulling Matt off of you
“Just cause you take it easy on her Frank, doesn’t mean I have to. She wants to learn, then let her learn with a real opponent, not just you going easy on her cause she makes your dick too hard to think straight.”
“Woah!” you interject, ripping the boxing gloves off your hands while still flat on your back
“Jesus, Red” Frank exclaims as he offers out a hand to get you back on your feet
“Oh come on Frank, you’ve been hard since she walked in here. Just because you’re not banging my girlfriend doesn’t mean you haven’t thought about it. I can hear it rub against your pants every time you move. You’re a weirdo, but not nearly weird enough to show up to a gym in jeans unless you had a reason.”
“Look, I’d never…” Frank stumbles over his words, redness creeping up his neck as it tenses with every clench of his jaw
Your pulse is thumping loudly in your ears at Matt’s observation, skin flushed with heat in both embarrassment for Frank who is still stammering beside you and also a little flattered that you so effortlessly turn him on so much.
“Never? Even with my permission?” Matt inquires
Frank’s pupils grow wide at Matt’s suggestion
“Woah, hold up Matt. Permission?” you loudly exclaim, offended at Matt’s implication “Like you own me?! I’m my own person, what about my damn permission?!”
Matt scoffs at your statement and steps toward you, spinning you around so your back is once more pressed against him and you are now facing Frank, who is hesitant to look up. His gaze transfixed on the floor as he tries to find the words to refute Matt’s claims. You didn’t think sheepish was a word one could ever use to describe Frank Castle, nor did you think he’d ever back down from a fight with Matt, even a verbal one.
“Okay sweetheart, let’s talk about you then.” Matt speaks lowly, damp bare skin of his rising and falling chest pressing into your back as he speaks, his own hardness obvious as he pulls your body flush against his
“While I appreciate that you haven’t crossed any lines since you started training, that doesn't mean you’re not enjoying these nightly sessions with Frank. Your heartbeat has risen every time he's been within a foot of you or complimented your progress tonight.” 
His voice rumbles against the skin of your neck, right hand snaking around to your front, tickling at the top of your leggings. For some reason, you don’t stop him, feeling a little shy but letting him tease you in front of Frank.
“And you want to talk about how wet you were when I first got here?” he continues “I could practically smell you from blocks away. Frank get you that excited, hmm?”  
Frank's head snaps up at the statement and he locks eyes with you just as Matt pushes his hand all the way down, collecting the slick he was just describing on his fingers.
“Matt, I…” you attempted to protest, still watching as the lust grows in Frank’s stare while Matt runs his fingers through your folds.
There was no hiding how your body reacted to both men. The evidence drips onto Matt’s fingers as he toys with you.
“No, it’s okay sweetheart.” he reassures, placing a few kisses on your neck “I get it. Frank and I have always said we're two sides to the same coin. It makes sense we’d both find the same woman attractive. And that she’d want us both.”
Matt once again turns his attention to Frank, not relenting in his teasing of you as he slips a finger into your opening, causing a moan to escape from your lips.
“Go ahead, Frank” Matt says with a nod against your shoulder, “if it's okay with her, it's okay with me.”
Frank finally wills himself to step forward. Never wavering in how deeply his gaze is locked on you, he hovers his hands over your waist while Matt continues to lazily pump his fingers in and out of you, waiting for your go ahead. You nod, granting him the permission to finally act on the feelings you’ve both been resisting. 
Frank’s trembling hand finally cradles your jaw as he leans into you and softly connects his lips with yours, taking the pace slowly to give you both the space to gauge how you’re feeling.
Matt, on the other hand, is happy to move things along as he pushes another finger inside you. Immediately working his calloused digits against that spongy spot inside you that drives you wild every time. You're not sure what causes you to groan into Frank's mouth, the way Matt touches you so expertly or the tingly sensation spreading through your body as Frank’s tongue and hands begin to explore.
Matt only removes his fingers from your core momentarily to aid Frank in ridding you of your clothes, eager to assist as it now gives him so much more easy access to your sopping cunt.
Warm, wet kisses are placed all over your heated flesh from both men as Frank’s calloused fingers dance all over you, eventually resting just above Matt’s hand to work your clit while Matt picks up his pace.
Your orgasm crashes into you like a strong current against a rocky shore, hands gripping onto Frank’s forearms to hold your self steady as you ride the waves of pleasure to the end. He watches with an almost sort of reverence as you come down, indulging in every beautiful hint of pleasure painted across your face and body.
Your cunt squeezes Matt’s fingers one last time before he removes them, allowing you to fully fall into Frank’s strong form while Matt tastes the nectar of his labor. The groan that escapes his lips is sinful as he indulges in the familiar taste of you. Meanwhile Frank is stepping away from you, shirt joining Matt’s across the gym and jeans following not long after.
You were used to staring at Matt’s scarred and muscular form, but Frank’s sculpted, but slightly beefier body is also decorated with the ghosts of his past. You can’t help but salivate at how well his toned muscles look as he frees his cock and removes the last of his clothing.
He pumps himself a few times while Matt kisses you deeply, guiding you downward.
The squishy gym floor beneath you cushions your knees as you crawl on all fours towards Matt, who is shimmying out of his cargo pants and laying down before you. 
Frank follows closely as you makeout with Matt, continuing to touch himself at the sight of your bare body splayed out on the mat. He lunges forward to place a few kisses down your spine as you’re bending forward, ass in the air and inches away from taking Matt into your mouth.
As you begin to suck Matt’s length, his low moans echo out through the musty gym, lips parted in pleasure.
Once Frank is satisfied with how much you’ve got Matt worked up, he slides back up behind you, lining himself up with your entrance. You moan into Matt’s cock as Frank pushes into you.
Alternating between your mouth and your hand, you work Matt up until his eyes are pressed shut, overwhelmed by all the sensory input of Frank fucking you. Matt seizes the opportunity to sit up a little and kiss you deeply, just as Frank begins to increase the harshness of his thrusts. You can’t help but cry out in little mewls and whimpers, as Matt moves kisses down your neck and jaw and guides your lips over his cock once more. 
Your legs feel as though they may give out from under you at any moment based on how violently they’re trembling.  With Frank only increasing his rhythm and Matt now thrusting up to meet your face and running his nails along your back has you careening closer and closer to your edge once more.
Unable to hold back, you cum with a cry, Matt and Frank both lunging to put their lips all over your skin as you do, sandwiching you in a throng of sweaty flesh and ecstasy. 
Pulled fully on your knees now, Matt reaches down to where Frank was just fucking you, running his fingers through your folds again and sending your already overstimulated nerves into over drive.
The room around you now feels stifling, the heat of three bodies in such a state of activity not able to compete with the squeaky and outdated hvac system buzzing above you head. Frank and Matt are both damp, hair sticking to their flushed foreheads as their mouths hang agape in an attempt to slow their panting. Matt’s hazel eyes dart back and forth, reading the signs that both you and Frank are ready for more; the steadying of your heartbeats, the evening of your breaths, and the minuscule sounds of both your muscles relaxing as the seconds tick on. Even though you’ve leveled out a little bit, you’re still dizzy with pleasure and your heart rate surges right back up as Matt moves to position you on your back.
“Atta girl.” Frank encourages as the sticky flesh of your back meets the soft, rubbery floor. He’s laying down beside you, hands roaming over your breasts and taking a nipple into his mouth just as Matt pushes himself forward, beginning to work his tongue all over your pussy. 
The crescendo of pleasure begins to grow deep within you again, Matt knowing just how to expertly play you like a conductor leading a symphony as he kisses and sucks on your clit. He inserts a finger just as Frank grabs your jaw, shoving his tongue into your mouth. 
Frank’s kisses move down your jaw and towards your ear, whispering sweet praises while Matt continues to eat you.
“Shit sweetheart, look so pretty when you cum. Knew you would. Let me see it again, come on, all over Red’s face. Atta girl.”
While Matt is always phenomenal in bed, never have you heard him talk as filthy as Frank. Usually his moans and grunts turned you on plenty, but Frank’s words are a welcome, new sensation that has another orgasm crashing through you before you even realize its happening.
You practically shove Matt off you as you know he’d be content to just keep going until you were over stimulated to the point of tears. He chuckles and wipes away the slick you left on his mouth and chin.
“Sweetie, you want to help Frank finish while I remind you who you belong to? Hm?” Matt asks as he crawls to hover over you, lining up just the tip of his cock with your slit and causing your cunt to clench around nothing
“Yes, Matt.” you respond, propping yourself up on your elbows so Frank can have his turn fucking your mouth
Frank’s scoff is cut off with a groan of pleasure as you wrap your mouth around him and suck his length towards the back of your throat.
“What Castle?” Matt asks, still teasing your hole while he listens to you blow Frank “You think just because I’m sharing doesn’t mean she’s only mine?”
“Ah shit– I know Red. I know.” Frank replies, chin tilted down to watch the way you look up at him as you swallow him down
“Good.” Matt responds, before harshly thrusting all the way into you. 
The vibrations of your moans from how intensely you’re getting fucked, plus the sight of you taking Matt’s dick while sucking him off causes a build up in Frank much quicker than he’d like. Part of his ego doesn’t want to finish before Matt, so he guides you by the jaw off of him and resumes laying on the floor, supporting your head with his chest and guiding your hand to his hardness so he can watch the show and also help you cum a final time while staving off his own orgasm a little while longer.
“That’s it sweetheart” he coos in your ear, hand steady around your throat while you stare up into his eyes and work him over with your hand. Your skin feels on fire as they toy with you, every brush of them against you like electricity firing through your nerves.
You can tell Matt is close by the way his face is scrunched up, focusing on only the feeling of your body beneath his and trying to tune out the rest of the world around. You can only assume Frank is as well, based on how much tighter his grip has gotten around your neck as you continue to jack him off and by how his sweet praises are now replaced with grunts occasionally punctuated by a singular swear word.
Frank reaches his calloused fingers down to goad you along, rubbing your clit in smooth circles, a stark contrast to the harshness of Matt’s now faltering pace. 
The slapping of skin over and over combined with the lust-filled groans and moans all of you are making has your head spinning and your final orgasm blooms like a rose in late July, soft and warm and delicate in a way that only these two working in tandem can give you.
Frank watches as you fall apart a final time, not stopping his assault on your sensitive bud until he’s satisfied with how hard you've orgasmed.
You’re totally spent and laying back against Frank. Too distracted by how delicious every drag of Matt’s cock feels against your satisfied walls, you let him use you while you revel in the dissipating fizz of your body being so thoroughly fulfilled. Barely able to even reach up and stroke the taught muscle of Matt’s chest, you do though as a small act of gratitude for sharing you tonight and allowing you to experience such pleasure. Frank takes over for your weak and trembling hands, touching himself while kissing whatever area of your skin he can reach to bring you back down. 
Matt’s senses are overwhelmed. The smell of pure sex invades his nostrils and he can still feel the aftershocks of your orgasm in the light pulses of your velvety walls every time he drives into you. Frank’s musky scent blends so beautifully with your natural, floral smell and hearing your satisfied sighs being breathed into Frank's soft kisses is the most beautiful music he’s ever heard. Your hands trace down from his chest and rest on the back of his thighs, encouraging him to find his nirvana as his thrusts become erratic.
“Matty.” you let out in a breathy lament and it finally tips him off the cliff, spilling inside you with a low moan that will echo in your ears for days to come.
Frank, unable to hold himself back any longer and cheekily pleased that he held off longer than Matt, even if it was only for a moment, spills across his stomach and chest as you kiss him through his orgasm while still stroking Matt’s skin to bring him down.
The three of you collapse side by side under the humming fluorescent lights of the gym, labored breathing finally slowing as you all come back to reality.
“Tell you what Red, that was a hell of a warm up for your girl. Ain’t that right sweetheart?” Frank finally speaks up, gravely voice cutting through the silence.
“You’ve got to be kidding Frank, I am not training tonight after all that!” you argue back
Frank turns towards you and presses a kiss to your temple before standing up and finding his clothes. 
“Matt, c’mon back me up here.” you turn to your boyfriend and watch as his signature cheeky grin spreads wide across his face.
“You know my dad and I had this mantra, this thing we’d say before every fight he had ‘It ain't how you hit the mat. It's how you get up.’ 
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“It means, you better get back up and do what Frank tells you.”
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fwtomura · 1 year ago
Text
Breathe Into Your Hungry Appetite.
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(a simon riley x john mactavish fanfic ^_^)
CHAPTER ONE, CHAPTER THREE
cw: ghostsoap (simon riley x john mactavish), modern au, drug dealer au, mentions of weed, smut?, kinda transghost ngl, VERY BAD SPELLING!! that’s abt it.
haii guys i wrote chpt1 earlier and decided that it needs more added to it so here’s chpt2 :3
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Simon’s morning started off just how it always did; kicking off the blankets, stretching out his back, and making that same awkward shuffle across the room towards the bathroom to brush his teeth and his hair. He still had that same old ache in his back and his joints as he slowly felt himself come back to the realm of the living. He didn’t bother with putting on a proper pair of pants before heading downstairs to the kitchen. It was a wednesday, he had the house to himself until much later in the evening.
He made himself his usual breakfast, hunching over the kitchen counter to eat as he scrolled through his phone. When he opened it, he realized that he’d forgotten to text Soap the night before. His phone opened up directly to Soap’s contact, which he’d noted down as ‘Johnny’ with a bar of soap emoji, but he hadn’t managed to send a message before he nodded off. Fuck. That’s awkward.
Simon💀: meant to text last just but got sidetracked, sorry
A half-assed apology was better than one, he decided. He didn’t include his name in the message, but judging by how quickly his phone vibrated against the counter, he didn’t necessarily need to add it.
Johnny🧼: all good, sweetheart
Johnny🧼: how’s ur morning going? did you sleep well?
Oddly charming. Not that he’d expected Soap to be turned off from texting him in the slightest. If anything, he was grateful for it to be just business as usual.
Simon💀: bit of a late start, but slept good.
Simon💀: eating breakfast now, how’s your day going?
He finished up his bowl of cereal, giving the bowl a half-asses rinse at the sink so that nothing would harden up before he gathered the willpower to properly load up the dishwasher. Maybe he’d get to it later this evening, maybe he wouldn’t. Wouldn’t seemed much more likely at the present moment.
Johnny🧼: nothin too crazy
Johnny🧼: It’s a slow day. fuckin boooooooooreeedddd >:(
Ghost nearly rolled his eyes as soon as he read the message. Of course he’d been bored. It seemed like that was always the case.
Simon💀: you poor thing, whatever will you do.
Ghost put his phone into his pocket briefly before heading upstairs, shutting the door to his room behind him out of reflex. He didn’t necessarily need to, but it wasn’t the worst habit to have. He opened his stash box and got out his pipe, he really did need to clean it.
As much of a pain in the ass as it was, he walked into the bathroom and got everything he needed. He’d leave the piece soaking overnight and would use a backup one for now. He checked his phone again as soon as he got the pipe settled into a plastic bag.
Johnny🧼: have u tried the new stuff yet?
He’d nearly forgotten about it, in fact. He looked over the baggie as he sat down onto the bean bag chair in his room. He could tell from the smell of the weed alone as he loaded up the grinder that it was potent . incredibly so.
Simon💀: not yet, loading up a bowl rn
Simon💀: smells strong as shit ngl.
The bud was nearly sticking to his fingers as he packed the bowl, the smell filling the room before he’d even sparked his lighter. It wasn’t that Soap always gave him shit weed, but he hadn’t expected this from a random strain that he’d given him to try. For free no less. And who the hell would Ghost be to turn down free weed that seemed to be at least halfway decent?
He flipped on the TV before settling down onto his beanbag chair and sparking up his bowl. The hit was sharp, almost immediately giving him that subtle, burning feeling at the back of his throat. The smoke still grunted slighting on the blowout, but there was a subtle almost citrusy flavour to it that say heavy on his tongue. Fuck. It felt good.
Simon kept taking slow, lazy hits from the pipe, leaning back and watching the smoke swirl and dance above him before it slowly dispersed throughout the room into nothing. The sunlight streaming in through the window made it look almost magical.
Simons phone had gotten tossed onto the bed at some point and he’d long since forgotten about it. He could feel the high slowly creeping in, his head filling with cotton and that euphoric loosening of his limps and muscles. Nothing else mattered in that moment… Aside from cracking a window; he’d finished smoking his bowl and the room was feeling rather stuffy. He opened the window quickly, swaying slighting from standing up too fast, and settled back down into the beanbag chair. He tapped the ash out of his pipe onto his rolling tray, stamping out the still smoldering bits with the bottom of his lighter, before leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. He wasn’t going to be moving from this spot for a minute. He could tell almost immediately. He could faintly hear the TV going in the background and that was the only thing keeping him grounded in the present. He hadn’t gotten a high like this in a minute.
For some reason, he felt durant to his acoustic guitar sitting over in the corner. The guitar was old, probably just as old as Simon was but he didn’t particularly care to do the math on that. He didn’t know the exact type of guitar he had, but it was a Suzuki SG-2S guitar and it was scuffed to hell and back. That guitar had seen him through three different moves that he knew about, the pick guard being coated in hundreds of overlapping scratch marks. The finish of the guitar was worn off in several spots, but Simon still found it beautiful. Tommy had called the color ‘Tobacco Sunburst’ but Simon thought the same was fucking stupid.
(If he remember right, they’d gotten into a spat over it. Tommy has insistent that it wa the proper name for the color, Simon didn’t care regardless. The name was stupid.)
He sat up briefly before slinging the guitar over his lap, not bothering to slide the strap over his shoulders. His fingers quickly slid to pick out from between the strings and the fretboard at the top of the guitar, the calluses on his fingertips lining up perfectly with the strings. He idly picked through a few different scales. Warming up on the guitar was practically second nature to him at this point. He’d been playing guitar for just about as long as he could remember. His mother had taught him as soon as he was big enough to hold a guitar and he’d fallen in love with the instrument as soon as he touched the strings. Some of his fondest memories growing up were of playing guitar with his mum, often accompanied by Tommy singing along to whatever song they were playing, his voice being incredibly loud and off-key.
The guitar belonged to his mother originally, and it had been a birthday gift from her. He’d part with it over his dead body. Though the guitar didn’t look the best, it was absolutely priceless to him. He hummed softly to himself as he slowly worked through different riff that had been giving him trouble. The guitar was tuned perfectly, and Simon felt himself getting lost in the sound of it. The soft squeaks of the strings against his fingers, the gentle thrums from the pick, nearly everything was enchanting.
Playing guitar was always an incredibly therapeutic thing for Simon. At the very least, it was a conversation starter for just something he could bring up for meaningless smalltalk. He’d been asked to play at a few of Gaz’s parties, but the idea of having that many people staring at him while he was playing made him want to gouge his throat out with a fork. He’d rather play alone in his room, and he had no problem with admitting that.
He hadn’t been to many of Gaz’s parties recently, but he appreciated that Gaz didn’t nag him too terribly for not showing up. He didn’t know everyone who was there and his idea of fun didn’t typically consist of sitting off in a corner awkwardly for a few hours before he deemed it acceptable to leave.
Funnily enough, Soap always seemed to be at Gaz’s parties whenever he’d have them. Soap would never outright approach Simon, but he’d always give him a wave and that same, charming smile he always seemed to have primed and ready. Did Soap know how to play guitar? Could he at least sing halfway decent? He’d have to ask next time he saw him. 
Simon decided he was done playing guitar for now once he’d realized he’d been staring at the wall for the past ten minutes, not moving a single muscle. He placed it back onto its stand in the corner before immediately laying back down into bed. The soft breeze coming in through the window made his room cool, but still extremely pleasant for him to be in. He laid on his stomach with one leg lifted up as he started scrolling through his phone to keep his mind occupied. 
Even while being on his phone, his mind couldn’t stop drifting towards thoughts of Johnny. Objectively he was mildly annoying, to put things lightly. He always seemed to gravitate towards Simon like a lost puppy just to make flirty comments towards him. (It had taken Simon an embarrassing amount of time to figure out that he was flirting and not just being nice.) Though he was annoying, Simon couldn’t deny that he was incredibly attractive despite his horrifically outdated mohawk, but it did suit him quite well. 
Simon didn’t consider himself to be very much of a relationship person. Things had a tendency to not work out and he’d much rather save himself the grief than fling himself at anyone who showed him the smallest bit of attention. While this was true, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the attention that Johnny was always all too willing to give him. Johnny made him feel like he was the most important person in the room. He’d be stupid to not enjoy it.
He wanted to get closer to Johnny, nearly feeling shitty for how little he actually knew about him. He didn’t know much about his hobbies, only knowing his taste in music from their drives that they would go on together. Their respective tastes in music had a significant amount of overlap, which Simon greatly appreciated. He found himself always feeling drawn towards Johnny. He wanted to be closer to him, whether that was just as friends or otherwise.
Johnny was undeniably attractive; you could even argue that he was Simon’s type. He had a decent amount of muscle to him, a stunning smile, and those beautiful blue eyes that Simon could easily get lost in for hours. His patchwork tattoos that were more than likely done in someone’s kitchen or basement left something to be desired, but Simon couldn’t say much on the quality or overall design of his tattoos. (He didn’t have much ground to stand on with his overly edgy sleeve he’d gotten the week after he turned 18.) Johnny was cocky and oftentimes overly confident, but Simon liked it, oddly enough. He was charming and always seemed to know exactly what to say to get a laugh or any other reaction out of Simon. He liked Johnny much more than he’d initially expected to.
 Simon wasn’t entirely picky with who he hooked up with, but it wasn’t something that he often sought out. With Johnny, however, he had half a mind to invite him over. The longer he’d thought about him, that low simmer of arousal pooling in his gut had roared into a rolling boil. Sleeping with Johnny wouldn’t be the worst idea he’d ever had. He’d stolen glances at his groin when he would wear gray sweatpants and Simon was more than just pleased with what he’d seen. At the very least, he’d have fun. That would be worth it. It had been a minute.
Simon💀: idk if it’s the strain or what
Simon💀: but i’m fucking horny
Simon💀: did that happen to you when you tried it?
Simon seemed to have an uncanny talent in sending risky text messages when he was stoned. It wasnt recommended at all, but he usually gained something pleasant out of it. He’d never sent a risky message to Johnny, mind, but he doubted anything bad would come from it.
He knew damn well how Johnny looked at him like he was something to be devoured. Any time he needed to lean down to pick something up, he could always be certain that he’d find Johnny’s eyes trained carefully on him. He was never shy about his intentions. Simon was practically waiting for Johnny to make a move, but he’d make it first if Johnny wouldn’t.
Despite Johnny’s track record of responding within five minutes whenever Simon would text him, nearly ten minutes had lapsed since Simon had messaged him. Disappointing. He tossed his phone onto the bed before opening the drawer on his bedside table. He tossed a bottle of lube and a dildo onto the bed near his phone before lying back down. It seemed like closing the door earlier had been a good idea after all.
He checked his phone one again, just to check, and was surprised to see ‘Read 1:23pm.’ He was very neatly thrilled to see the typing bubble pop up on screen. He needed to see this through, a pang of tension cutting through his arousal.
Johnny🧼: u kno..
Johnny🧼: as ur plug in responsible for ur high
Johnny🧼: i could come take care of u
Of course he’d say that. Simon had completely expected for Johnny to jump at the opportunity. Strangely enough, it was endearing.
Simon💀: mhm.
Simon💀: you can barely take care of yourself
Simon💀: I’d like to see you try.
Simon grinned as soon as he saw that Johnny was typing again rolling onto his stomach. He kept his phone held up in his left hand as his right hand slid down beneath himself. He didn’t let it slide fully into his boxers, idly playing with the waistband of his boxers.
Johnny🧼: I can come over n prove it, si’
Johnny🧼: I’d be more thn happy 2
As much as the idea seemed appealing, Simon wanted to guarantee that he’d have the house to himself. He couldn’t risk having Roach coming home in the middle of everything. He truly did want to tell Johnny to come over, particularly with how long it’s been, it wasn’t work the risk of getting interrupted.
Simon💀: maybe you could.
Simon💀: where would you start?
Though he couldn’t have Johnny over right away, playing with his food was always an entertaining pastime for Simon. Particularly with someone like Johnny. He always was incredibly upfront with his intentions. Whether he’d put his money where his mouth is was still up for debate.
Johnny🧼: do u have any idea how crazy uve been driving me??
Johnny🧼: every time i see u it drives me fuckin insane
Johnny🧼: can barely keep my hands to myself when i see u
Cute, but Simon already knew that. The art of subtlety was not something that Johnny was skilled or familiar with. He liked that about him. He couldn’t deny the thrill that rushed down his spine whenever he would turn around and catch Johnny staring at him. He always looked at him like he was starving, his eyes looking nearly dark with desire each time. It almost seemed as if he could call Johnny over to him with a simple tilt of his head and he’d drop to his knees in front of Simon like an obedient dog. He loved that feeling.
Simon 💀: cute… 
Simon 💀: you can do better than that, can’t you? 
Johnny🧼: u have no idea just how badly i want to ruin u
Simon had half a mind to drop the conversation there. He wasn’t in the mood to have to lead the conversation himself. If Johnny wasn’t going to hold his attention, he wasn’t going to keep playing along for the sake of Johnny’s ego. Interestingly enough, he responded before Simon could set his phone down fully. 
Johnny 🧼: if you tell me to i’ll come over rn
Johnny 🧼: i’d push you up against the wall, kiss you breathless with my hand around your neck 
Johnny 🧼: have you riding my thigh while i’m marking what’s mine
Marking what’s his?  
Simon 💀: marking what’s yours? i’m not yours. 
Johnny 🧼: not yet >_&lt;!
Incredibly cocky, yet he didn’t hate it. Johnny was always incredibly forward with his intentions. The current moment was no exception to that. Simon would be lying if he didn’t find the idea of it appealing. He could almost perfectly envision it. 
Johnny’s hand gripping almost uncomfortably tight onto his hips, no doubt leaving bruises where his fingertips had been. The delectably rough scrape of his stubble against his jaw and neck as biting kisses would be placed across his skin, the warm metal of the barbell in Johnny’s tongue tracing across each hickey left across his neck. He could almost hear how Johnny would chuckle against his skin as he pressed his leg up further between Simon’s thighs, the pressure against his cock as he would roll his hips down and be met with an approving hum from Johnny. He wanted to hear just how rushed and heated Johnny’s breaths would get, feel his cock hardening against his hip…
Johnny 🧼: i’d treat you so well if you’d let me
Johnny 🧼: i’ll make an absolute mess out of you just with my tongue and fingers
Johnny 🧼: i’d leave marks all over your body just to make you think of me each time you see them
He would be on his back, bullied up closer to the head of the bed with Johnny between his legs. He’d have his hand in Johnny’s hair, pulling on it just to see how Johnny would react. He could almost feel Johnny’s steely blue eyes watching each expression he’d make. Johnny’s eyes would never leave his face, even when he leans his head back against the pillows. The coil in his stomach winding tighter with each pass of Johnny’s tongue against his cock, his fingers curling up just right inside of him and making him squirm. 
He knew Johnny would wrap his free arm around one of his thighs, pulling him closer and effectively locking him in place. He’d pull back just briefly, his chin nearly dripping wet with Simon’s arousal. 
“Don’t run away from it, sweetheart.”
Johnny 🧼: can’t wait to hear all the pretty little sounds you’ll make 
Simon 💀: hate to disappoint but i’m kind of quiet 
Johnny 🧼: we’ll see about that when i get my hands on you
Simon couldn’t even find it in him to be annoyed by his confidence. Johnny was well aware of the effect that he had on Simon and to his credit, Simon couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this interested in texting someone like this. 
He was on edge, his hand having creeped into his boxers long before Johnny started typing. He could feel his heartbeat racing as he watched the bubble continue, a low curse leaving his throat as he curled his fingers upwards inside of him.
Johnny 🧼: takin a while to respond, sweetheart
Johnny 🧼: what are you up to?
If he wanted to know so badly, Simon had no problems with showing him. He had a mirror at the foot of his bed for a reason. He sat up just slightly, leaning his weight on his left elbow and angling the camera so that his face wasn’t visible. He spread his legs open a little further for the picture. The damp spot on his boxers was just barely visible, but made more apparent by the flash of the camera. 
The image was tasteful, but you could still clearly see that Simon had two fingers buried inside of his cunt. He ground the heel of his palm against his dick as he sent the picture over.
Simon 💀: i think you can guess…
Johnny didn’t immediately start typing and Simon couldn’t deny the slight puff that it gave to his ego. He was well aware of the fact that Johnny found him attractive, but seeing a visual demonstration of him not having an immediate quip back from a risque picture was amusing to him. It was, of course, short lived. 
Johnny 🧼: got you that riled up from a few texts?
Simon 💀: don’t flatter urself 
Simon 💀: i’m home alone. just gotta take care of it myself. 
Johnny 🧼: i could change that
Simon 💀: maybe
The offer was incredibly tempting. Simon knew if he told Johnny to come over, he’d be at his house within the next twenty minutes, if not faster. Best case, the hookup would be pretty decent and he’d have a reason to invite Johnny over more often. Worst case, he’d have some mediocre sex and need to find a new drug dealer. That still didn’t account for running into Johnny at parties, or Roach coming home in the middle of everything. Maybe that wasn’t the best course of action…for now.
Johnny 🧼: can i save that pic?
Johnny 🧼: won’t show it to anyone. i just want that for me
If he’d been standing up, Simon knew that message would have made him dizzy. He could feel the slight rush of adrenaline down his spine at the suggestion. Just wanting to keep that picture for himself? Would he be looking at it later, touching himself thinking about Simon? Would that be the first time he’d done something similar? The mental image of that was all too appealing for Simon to say no.
Simon 💀: you better fucking not
Simon 💀: my face isn’t in it, go ahead
Johnny 🧼: perfect. 
He slid a third finger inside of himself as he waited for Johnny to finish typing, gently chewing on his lower lip in anticipation. Would Johnny be touching himself looking at that picture?
His face dimly illuminated by the light of his phone, sitting up with the hem of his tank top tucked between his teeth. His eyes carefully scanning over the picture as his hand stroked over his cock, his thumb trailing over the head on each upstroke. 
Johnny 🧼: just want to fucking ruin you 
Johnny 🧼: i’d keep you up all night, fill you up until you can’t take any more
Simon 💀: doubt you have the stamina but you can try
Johnny 🧼: cute that you think that
Johnny 🧼: when’s the last time someone properly took care of you? 
In all honesty, Simon could barely even remember the last time he’d hooked up with someone, let alone had a memorable and at least halfway decent hookup. He knew it had been more than a few months, but he didn’t exactly keep track of it either. He didn’t necessarily have people lining up to sleep with him, Johnny being the exception, and didn’t see the point in lying about it just to make him jealous…though it did sound appealing. 
Simon 💀: it’s been a while
Johnny 🧼: poor thing
Johnny 🧼: i could take care of you
Johnny 🧼: have you start on your hands and knees, flip you on your back when you get too tired
Johnny 🧼: push your knees to your chest and watch how you fall apart for me
He’d be on his back, his knees held tight to his chest, Johnny no doubt deeper inside him than anyone had been in a long time. He could hear the slap of skin on skin, harsh pants and soft groans. He was certain he’d be able to see the sweat dripping down Johnny’s temples, messy trails down his neck. How his eyebrows would be knit together tightly, his eyes closed and focusing on the sensations of everything. Open mouthed panting, his muscles flexing and relaxing beneath his skin so perfectly, shoulders begging to be bitten into. He’d make such a pretty picture, wouldn’t he?
Johnny 🧼: show me what you’re up to, doll
He deserved to see a little more, didn’t he? Simon pushed himself up to be sitting fully, tucking his legs beneath him and getting into more of a straddle position. He kept the camera carefully angled to hide his face as he hit the record button. He kept slowly fingering himself as the video ran, being careful to not make much noise. He didn’t need to inflate Johnny’s ego any more than it already would be. He didn’t watch the video back before sending it off. It was only a few seconds long, but it was clear what he was doing.
His eyes lit up as soon as Johnny started typing again, not having the energy to feign disinterest any longer. 
Johnny🧼: I can hardly even see what you’re doing, sweetheart
Simon💀: greedy.
Johnny🧼: you love it.
His next video started the same as the one he’d just sent, this time making more of an effort to grind against the palm of his hand as he worked himself open. This time, he lowered the camera from his face as he pulled his hand out of his boxers. He locked eyes with the camera in the mirror as he raised his hand towards his mouth, slowly trailing his tongue between his fingers and effectively cleaning off all evidence of his own arousal. He immediately sent off the video as soon as he stopped recording.
Simon💀: does this give you any clues?
He couldn’t deny the headrush he got as soon as Johnny didn’t reply for almost a minute, the read receipt being the only evidence he’d seen it. He was nearly giddy as he waited for Johnny to finish typing.
Johnny🧼: i think i’ve got an idea
Johnny🧼: i’d clean off your fingers just like that if i was there
Johnny🧼: dying to find out exactly how you taste
Simon💀: i bet you are
He’d been dancing around inviting Johnny over for too long, and he was starting to wonder if it’d be worth it to invite him over. Johnny hadn’t let up once in texting him. Simon wouldn’t mind the company. It could’ve just been the weed talking, but Simon felt he deserved at least the chance to prove himself. What did he have to lose?
He shifted up on his knees, turning so that his profile could be seen in the mirror. He pressed his chest down towards the bed, forcing his back to arch as his hips stayed high up in the air. He adjusted himself just slightly so that his body was in better view of the mirror to the camera. He sent off the picture as soon as he’d gotten a good shot.
Simon 💀: you gonna come get behind me or what?
Read 1:58pm. 
For a few moments, Simon figured that Johnny was just in shock and didn’t know how to respond. Maybe he hadn’t expected Simon to send that and needed a moment to process. One minute passed, then two, then five, then ten. Simon couldn’t hold in the disappointed sigh as he tossed his phone to the side. He was disappointed, yes, but still not entirely surprised. He’d expected Soap to be all bark and no bite, but had hoped that wouldn’t be the case. 
He rolled back onto his back, reaching for the dildo and lube he’d tossed onto the bed earlier before sliding his boxers off and tossing them onto the floor. He’d hoped for something different, but this would have to do for now.
an: sorry for cockblocking you guys i promise they fuck in the next chapter. but anyways. thank you for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed!! next chapter should be up relatively soonish!!
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fanficsbysenneres · 11 months ago
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I've been reading so many great fics on Ao3 for Love Between Fairy and Devil, that I thought I'd make a little Fanfic Writer Ask list for the fandom. Thank you Fanfic Writers 🩷!
Fanfic Writer Asks
When did you first write fanfic for LBFaD?
What fandom did you write for before LBFaD?
When do you do most of your writing?
Favourite snacks & drinks when you write?
Describe your writing space.
Does font matter to you when you write?
What do you use to write? Google docs, scrivener, pen and paper, directly into the Ao3 text box like you're Tai Sui himself?
What unexpected character captured your attention as you wrote?
What interesting canon knowledge did you discover that you didn't know before?
What fanon fact/s did you make your mind up on while writing for LBFaD?
What fic or idea would you like to write or read about next?
Favourite tropes in your fic/s and why.
Favourite song/s that inspired you?
What adjective did you notice you used the most when writing?
Share your favourite sentence.
Share your favourite dialogue.
Share an excerpt of your favourite scene.
What was the most challenging part of writing your LBFaD fic/s?
What idea from the show resonated the most with you and became a major focus in your fic/s?
What's something you learned about yourself while writing for LBFaD?
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