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stomach-bugg09 · 1 year

Note

hihi maybe a fic where reader is just an absolute menace and badass like her mother neytiri!! everyone in the clan is prob trying to become mates with her but she doesnt like it at all

summary: [y/n] sully was independent, strong, scary, clearly the daughter of neytiri. but, her impeccable game constantly reminds everyone who her father was.

a/n: two in one day ?? what ?? crazy. anyway, hopefully you enjoy. she’s kinda a cutie in this, like okay yes go boss. also i cannot stop making random original characters that are not at all canon to atwow, but you know what, it is what it is. feedback, reblogs, and reqs are always appreciated !!

tags: @pinkhotdogsfr @wxnderingthoughts @ellielovesrobinarellano ( check out my tag guide !! )

warnings: [y/n] being a boss, sully siblings are so cute and supportive, some annoying boy attitude, guys being kinda creepy and obsessive, [y/n]’s undeniable and accidental rizz, non-consensual touch ( like a touch on the arm, but still aggravating )

2.5k words

independence

GIF by world-of-pandora

if there was one thing about [y/n] sully, it was that she was her mother’s daughter. any na’vi that knew the two of them could tell you this. from her skills on the battlefield to her independence, it was clear to all that neytiri had raised her eldest daughter in a way that she had no need to depend on anyone other than herself, as every young female should.

as a result, [y/n] sully stood among some of the strongest warriors in her age group. there was a good amount of na’vi—a solid six—her age that provided hope for the future. when it came their time to protect the clan, jake and neytiri lived in a little bit more peace knowing that the omaticaya would be safe in their hands

it was one of those days, with the core six, in which [y/n] spent her afternoon scouting. they’d split into two groups a few minutes prior, deciding to cover ground much quicker while separated.

“hey, [y/n]!” ole’ey called from behind, her friend’s voice becoming apparent directly in [y/n]’s ear thanks to the intercom necklaces they wore ( although, they were only allowed to wear them while on patrol. )

“hm?” [y/n] hummed, her peripheral vision picking up an image of ole’ey, a smirk resting on her face.

“has kllalu asked you out yet?”

on the other side of her, [y/n] heard her other friend, meyio, guffaw, losing his mind over the situation. “kllalu?” he screamed, not even bothering to go through comms because of how loud he was.

immediately, [y/n] dropped her face into her hands. “are you kidding?”

“so, i’m going to take that as a no.”

the sully daughter collapsed on her ikran, laying stomach down as she leaned the top-half of her weight against the creature’s neck. “i hate my life.”

“oh, please!” meyio teased. “you just have an impeccable amount of game. it’s natural!”

“it comes from your father’s side,” ole’ey added, not missing a beat, sending meyio once again as he screamed in laughter.

[y/n] cringed, hitting her forehead against her ikran. “that is disgusting. do not ever say that again. like, ever.”

“it’s just the plain truth!”

the three of them, [y/n], meyio, and ole’ey, were, if anything, an iconic trio. ever since [y/n] started training with other children around the clan, the three immediately drifted towards each other. after five long years later, neytiri and jake were practically their second pair of parents.

as a result of their friendship, all three of them improved their skills together, spending their time sparring with each other. they still often reminded each other of the day that meyio said something offensive—probably having to do with the other two being girls—and as a result, ole’ey and [y/n] absolutely annihilated him the next day at training. it even got the point in which the two young girls were reprimanded by jake ( although, neytiri was absolutely losing it when he came home and told his mate the story. )

but, no matter how often the two girls practiced their fighting skills by beating up meyio, they were all the best of friends. so, that meant immense teasing.

“i do not care what the plain truth is—you do not say that about somebody’s father to his daughter.” [y/n] was exasperated. not only did she have to deal with yet another male trying to convince her that they were ‘made for each other,’ but now she couldn’t get the thought of her father’s charm out of her head.

“okay, moving on from the epitome of hot dads,” meyio interrupted, causing a cry of anguish to leave [y/n]’s throat as she slammed her head against her ikran again, “what do you think kllalu is gonna say?”

as [y/n] attempted to ignore her friends, the fake deep voice of ole’ey kept her more than engaged in the moment. “‘oh, [y/n]. you’re like, as pretty as the stars or whatever. but, you know what’d be prettier? our future kids.’”

“ew!” she groaned, her hands going to her temples as to keep herself from jumping off of her ikran and strangling her friends.

“oh, that’s good,” meyio complimented, to which ole’ey sent a mock bow. “how about… ‘[y/n], i visited the spirit tree last night. i think, now i could be wrong, but… i think i saw us. together.’”

“now that’s just foul.” [y/n] argued. “using eywa’s visions as a way to bag me? he wouldn’t.”

meyio raised his hands defensively. “if you say so… but, i wouldn’t put it past him.”

“you two are unbelievable. this is like, my worst nightmare, and you’re making a joke out of it! some friends you are,” she grumbled.

“i’m sorry, [y/n],” ole’ey trailed, the smile in her voice apparent. “it’s not that we’re laughing about you having a problem.”

“yeah!” meyio added. “we’re laughing about this being the eight-hundreth time having the same exact problem.”

[y/n] groaned. “i know.” she shook her head, gazing at the forest below them. “why do they all keep trying. i have rejected every single one of them—why do they think that they’re different?”

meyio whistled at that. “what can i say, men love a good chase.”

she rolled her eyes. “i am not a chase, i am… i don’t even know! but i am definitely not a chase.”

“yes, you are not a chase because you don’t let them chase. i have never seen you give any one of them a chance!” ole’ey laughed. she wasn’t scrutinizing, and [y/n] knew that, she was just stating the truth. and still, it was a hard truth to swallow.

[y/n] had never been an easy friend. she grew up as the daughter of the toruk makto, and that meant that not only did her parents expect a lot from her, but so did everyone else in the clan. those were the words that motivated her to become such an amazing warrior—that, and the fact that she always wished to be like her mother.

she never really questioned it ever since her young mind decided who she was going to be. no, because she set a goal, and she would do whatever it took to accomplish that goal. and now, she’d finally reached it. who is she to become now?

she’d never learned to make friends—to even be friendly—she only wound up with meyio and ole’ey because she was lucky. she was, in all honesty, terrified of finding even a potential mate, because that meant she had to acknowledge that she was moving on into the future without even the slightest plan. all she wanted to do, for once in her life, was to enjoy living as a teenage na’vi.

later that afternoon, [y/n], meyio, and ole’ey sat in the clearing, alongside all four of the other sully siblings. after their morning of patrol, the trio was considerably tired, but that did not stop meyio and [y/n] from tackling each other.

all around the pair circled the rest of the kids, egging on the fight. it was, of course, a simple spar, and was something that they considered very normal in their routine.

“meyio, i swear to eywa if you lose, i am going to murder you!” lo’ak yelled from the sidelines, a threat that was motivated after he and ole’ey made bets on who would win.

“just keep doing what you’re doing, bud,” ole’ey added with a smirk, causing kiri to burst into laughter.

tuk was sat atop neteyam’s shoulders, allowing for a better view of their scrap. “meyio is kind of bad,” she mumbled, a comment that had her oldest brother wheezing for breath.

[y/n] was, by far, dominating. as she always did. at that point, after knowing her for five years, meyio had only a thirty-two percent win rate, so he was never shocked when the fight ended with him crying, “mercy!”

this fight, however, went a little different.

because as [y/n] triumphantly sat on his back, her hands pushing his face down into the mud as she teased, “you did this to yourself!” all of her confidence flew down the drain the moment she saw a familiar male in the distance.

immediately, the girl stopped, and with the lack of pressure against his neck, meyio flipped her over. [y/n] sputtered for breath, her lungs heaving after the wind was knocked out of her.

“hah!” meyio triumphed, only stopping when he noticed the look on her face. “[y/n]?”

“oh, come one!” lo’ak groaned. “meyio, finish the fight so i don’t lose any more money on you than i already have!”

when meyio ignored lo’ak’s comment, everyone grew curious. each other them took a step forward, peeking at the expression on [y/n]’s face.

based on her wide eyes that stared in the distance, kiri decided to follow her gaze. when she caught sight of kllalu, she bust into laughter. “are you scared of little-old kllalu? the one who we used to call ‘stick?’”

ole’ey sputtered a laugh. “why’d you call him ‘stick’”

“he stabbed himself with a stick and wouldn’t stop crying.”

the girl gasped. “oh my eywa, i remember that!”

meanwhile, meyio mumbled, “that is the dumbest nickname.”

ignoring the teasing comments, neteyam took tuk off of his shoulders, placing her on the ground before he walked closer to his sister. “what’d kllalu do?”

“nothing!” she cried. “that’s the problem!”

lo’ak looked unimpressed at her answer. “now, what is that supposed to mean? we are not mind readers, despite norm’s book of theories.”

“uh correction,” kiri pointed out. “norm’s theory is that the plants were mind readers.”

“guys!” tuk whined. “[y/n]’s upset.”

“right!” meyio called, a smirk pulling onto his face. “she’s upset because kllalu is planning to ask her out.”

both sully boys groaned at that information. “another one?” lo’ak asked, exasperated.

[y/n] lifted herself off of the ground, attempting to brush off as much dirt as she could. “i’m as unhappy about it as you are! this is like, the millionth rejection i’ve ever had to do!”

“will they ever catch on?” neteyam groaned, holding his head in his hands.

“that’s what i’m wondering!” [y/n] cried, staring up at the sky with an unamused look on her face.

“i’m telling you,” meyio yelled. “they love the chase.”

all at once, every single sully sibling responded with, “there is no chase!”

silence followed soon after, leaving meyio blinking absentmindedly at them. “okay,” he said, smacking his lips. “noted!”

“au,” [y/n] cried, shaking her head. “he is nearly here.”

“okay,” tuk yelled. “everyone be quiet and stare at him so we scare him away.” her idea had everyone but [y/n] shouting words of agreement.

immediately, [y/n] shook her head. “no—no!” she sighed. “look, i need to do this myself. just… act normal. i don’t know! i’m just gonna say what finally needs to be said.”

“and what is that?” kiri asked, eyebrows raised.

but, before she could answer, kllalu stepped into a radius that was far too close to answer without him hearing. so, as the remind them of their job, [y/n] sent one last look at the group of kids. quiet.

“[y/n]!” the boy greeted, a smirk placed on his lips. immediately, all six of the kids behind [y/n] were set off with annoyance.

she nodded her head. “kllalu.” [y/n]’s tone was dry, already setting the mood for an awkward conversation.

“how are you?” he attempted, stopping in front of her.

“i am doing great.”

he nodded slowly. “nice!” this was an extremely painful experience for everyone that was watching.

when she left the conversation hanging, kllalu cleared his throat. “so,” he continued slowly. “i was wondering if i could speak with you?”

she cocked her head ever-so-slightly. “you are speaking now, no?”

“uh,” he swallowed. “i was thinking, like… alone?”

immediately she shook her head. “i’d rather not leave my siblings.” she blinked. “and ole’ey and meyio.” behind her, the six of them waved cheerfully, leaving kllalu dumbstruck. “whatever you must say, you are fully capable of saying in front of them.”

“right!” he nodded. “yeah, no, i totally get it.” kllalu looked at the ground, stretching his arm to scratch the back of his neck. silence returned.

“you were going to say something, kllalu?”

he nodded. “uh, yeah.” her patience was thinning by the second. “i was just, uh, thinking. because, um, last night i visited the spirit tree—”

“no, kllalu.” ( behind [y/n], meyio was silently pointing and laughing at ole’ey since he guessed correctly. )

he blinked. “no? you don’t even know what i was going to say.”

she stared at him with a look. really? “i am not dumb.”

“but, why? i mean, i know you’ve rejected every single guy who has attempted, but why? why all of them?” he shook his head in disbelief. “how do you know i am not the right one?” as soon as kllalu’s hand grabbed her bicep, the entire group of six behind them burst.

“what do you think you’re doing?” neteyam growled, pushing himself off of the ground.

lo’ak was quick behind him. “she said no, dumbass.”

“do you need help understanding?” kiri took a step towards them.

with a huff, [y/n] held a hand up to her siblings and friends. once they’d frozen in place, she then grabbed his wrist tightly, ripping it off of her. “are you daft?”

“wha—no!”

“i will repeat it to you in words that your small brain can understand, and if you could do me a wonderful favor and tell every male that wants to ask me out, i would greatly appreciate it.” she stepped towards him, teeth bared. “i am in no need of a male’s help, nor his love. i am not a challenge, i am not a game to see whether or not you will be the one to convince me, i am not something to chase. you and all the other dumb males will stop asking me, because it is becoming offensive.” she bit her bottom lip, a mocking smile appearing on her lips. “i have made it this far independently. i will not let that go by having a male choose me as his mate. when the time comes, i will choose. do you understand?”

he nodded.

she raised her eyebrows. “do you understand?”

“yes.”

“good.” she stepped back, feeling the safety of her friends and family. “now, please go away. you have ruined a perfectly fine afternoon.”

as they watched him stumble away, [y/n] felt not only her own pride swell in her heart, but the pride of her friends and siblings. sure, they knew [y/n] sully was strong, scary, all the good stuff, but it was always refreshing to watch it come out.

it always reminded them of why the adults of the clan were not at all worried for the omaticayans future. there was nothing to worry about when warriors like [y/n] existed.

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skelebellie · 1 year

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entangled moments

gn!reader drabble interactions with the trigun stampede squad (vash, wolfwood, meryl, and roberto)

(hinted polyamorous relationship w/ vash, wolfwood, and meryl)

——————————————————————————————————

traveling through no mans land means hot days and cold nights. its not uncommon for you to shed a couple layers in order to refrain from overheating. however, you tend to miss the watchful eyes of your companions. on chilly nights you snuggle up to meryl, her back against your head as you snuggle into her for warmth. as the night progresses and morning comes your often found intertwined with each other, your head resting on her chest.

wolfwood once jokingly asked if you’d sleep with him one night, to which you nonchalantly said “oh sure i didn’t know you you also got cold at night”. he wasn’t expecting it to get that far. needless to say, he wasn’t too happy that you turned him into the small spoon.

after that meryl is only willing to share her “personal” heater with vash.

jk, some nights you end up pinned between meryl, vash, and wolfwood, body splayed across all three. roberto is left to shiver in the cold.

for some reason you salute roberto when you see him and no one knows why but it gives him a little ego boost so he lets it slide.

you and wolfwood are absolute menaces when left to your own devices. one time the rest of the crew came back from scouting and all they saw was you holding a target in the air and the punisher ready to fire. you could hear the screams of terror from a mile away as everyone was thrown into a panic.

you take a lot of time making sure vash’s arm is up to your standard. if you notice a slight uncontrolled twitch or a lag in his shooting your on him before he can even blink. asking him if hurts or if hes noticed anything unusual.

you often use vash’s prosthetic hand to cool yourself after a long day in the sun, the cold metal never getting hot in the blazing sun. sometimes you’ll be sitting and just guide his hand to the back of your neck, letting out a pleased sigh. he cant help but marvel at how large his hand is across your neck.

meryl is often found having one point of contact with you. you like it since physical touch is your love language, but meryl mainly does it to prevent you from getting lost. it takes one cool bug for you to be 10 miles away from the party.

in the back of the car your sprawled out across vash and wolfwood, your head resting across wolfs legs and your legs stretched across vash’s. the two realized how good of an idea it was so now you take turns laying down across each other when you have to drive to distant towns. vash will rub invisible images on your calf and you’ll play with wolfwood’s hands as a form of entertainment. admiring his calluses and scars. you pretend like you dont see the blush on the tips of his ears.

you love playing with vash’s hair. if your lucky enough to spend the night in a hotel, he will sit on the floor as you sit on the edge of the bed, massaging his scalp. you try to style his hair but it always ends up in the same mop like shape.

wolfwood bonking you on the head because someone asks you a question you should lie about but no one told you that so there you go… telling them everything.

vash and wolfwood are on wandering duty. sometimes you’ll just start going a different direction since something intrested you and they just kind of pick you up from under your armpits and just bring you back.

“okay lets go” you say and you start walking. roberto just kind of grabs your shoulders and turns you to where you should have been going. “yes i 100% knew that we needed to go this way.”

wolfwood goes to give you a high five while your hands are full so you kind of just slap your head against his hand. he almost pissed himself laughing.

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saintmurd0ck · 2 years

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congrats rhi!!! well deserved 👏🏼💖

🗽 - matt and frank are on the brain. what if you tried going on a date with them?? and they're making each other jealous, which eventually leads to all three of you breaking the bed in matt's apartment 👀

nik baby, thank you so much for this ask. i am so sorry it took so long, BUT i needed it to be absolutely perfect, and i think ive done it. it was absolute perfection, a joy to work on, and clearly you know me so well because this is one of my favourite things to write EVER and i will die on this hill!!!! i love you and thank you for your incredible request <3

winner's streak | frank castle x f!reader x matt murdock

masterlist

summary: you've had a little thing for your neighbours for the longest time. what's the worst that can happen when you ask them both on a date and turn it into a little friendly competition?

warnings: matt & frank roommate au, voyeurism/public exhibition, couple blind jokes, fingering, oral m and f receiving, unprotected p in v, spanking, choking, etc bruh there's so many i cant

THIS IS A LONG ASS FIC (9K WORDS DONT KILL ME) BUT PLEASE ENJOY AND REBLOGS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED

Your groan reverberates against the iron door, echoing into the empty space of the stairwell.

ROOFTOP CLOSED, the paper sign reads, FOR SCHEDULED MAINTENANCE.

It’s impossible for your eyes to roll any further back. Of all days this rooftop is closed, why does it have to be today?

The notice scrunches in your hand as you pull it free from the door, shoving it down into your bag. You’re already annoyed about making the trek up to the rooftop, but thankfully it’s a quick trip back downstairs, and you’re outside on the fire escape in no time. The balmy afternoon wind flushes hot against your face, thin metal railing digging into your forearms as you lean forward, but your chest falls gracefully with the deep exhale that carries with it any negativity.

You’re grateful for the quiet. Besides the occasional siren, you’re high enough that you can barely hear the commotion of the streets – a rarity in this city – and apart from your noisy neighbours to the left, it’s pretty tranquil here.

Keeping an ear out for anyone disturbing your peace, you scout the apartments to either side of you, listening to the ambient sounds and whatever the street below has to offer. Nothing today; nothing except for the brush of wind rustling the trees and dislodging those clumsily pinned flyers you hate. Good.

With no one home around you, and weather almost too perfect for tanning, your hand snakes up your spine to where the strings of your bikini top lay, tied in a careless knot that comes undone in one tug. The summer heat hits your bare chest with a ferocity that surprises you, but you close your eyes and tip your head back, allowing the sun’s warmth to wash over your face and cascade down your body.

But then, it shoots straight at you; a whistling arrow that lodges itself into the centre of your chest. It’s the sound of a breath catching; an inhale so sharp you might mistake it for a hiss. Your head whips to the side.

“Frank,” you seethe, hands flying up to where you’re exposed.

He croaks out your name as your eyes level into his, bewildered stare parting his mouth in an ‘o’. He doesn’t know where to look as you muster a fake smile, tilting your head to the side so saccharinely you feel him cave inwards.

Frank’s body is still square to yours as he looks up to the sky. “Nice uh… sunny day, right?”

You scoff, arms tightening around your chest. “Cut the shit, Frank. Were you spying on me?”

His nostrils flare as he grips his coffee mug, knuckles turning white to the point where you think it’s going to break.

“Well?” you deadpan, a muscle twitching in your jaw.

He sputters at your question, and then it dawns on you.

He’s lost for words.

Your lips curl into a smile. First of all, you’re not really mad per se, you just like seeing him squirm. Secondly, Frank fucking Castle, your utterly menacing, 6 foot, ‘women call me daddy and I benchpress 400 lbs’ neighbour is lost for words. He’s stumbling over every syllable, and it’s like you have him by the balls.

Then again, maybe you just did.

You’ve seen the way he looks at you, not-so-slick with the little half-glances he shoots your way, or how his lips purse when he sees you in the hallway, the vein in his neck popping as an existing string of unholy thoughts undeniably course through his head. He’s always rushing to help you with something, whether it’s to carry your groceries, or to repair anything broken in your apartment.

You never complain, of course. With the way he treats you like a queen, and gets away looking like that? Yeah, you can’t fault his behaviour.

And that was just Frank’s side of things. His polar opposite, puppy-eyed roommate Matt has it just as bad for you, but Matt… oh, Matt… he makes you throb in ways you don’t understand. You’re the kind of girl who will never let a man tell you what to do, but Matt? He makes you want to get on your knees, submit yourself to him, devote yourself whole.

Matt’s not a grand gesture kind of guy as much as Frank is; he’s more of a smooth talker, knowing exactly when and how to lay on the charm. In fact, it’s not just that; he intrigues you. You’re observant – more than you give yourself credit for – and you notice the unexplainable, the somewhat impossible. It’s the bruised knuckles that so often leave his hands stained crimson, the cane that’s nowhere to be seen, the hushed phone calls and (to your displeasure), kiss-bitten lips.

You know a body as cut as his doesn’t come from walking to the office every day.

If you go out on your fire escape at just the right time, and tip your head in just the right direction, you can hear them talking about you. You’ve never admitted it out loud, but your heart flutters with the way Frank describes you to Matt, in what you’re wearing that day, or when he says those mundane things like, ‘she bought the same toothpaste as us!’

Alright, fine. You’ll admit it.

You think about them. A lot.

And in more ways than one.

You’ve indulged in their words, in their actions, in the little things they do that makes your skin hot and your back arch. It’s always variations of the same forbidden fantasy that creep into your mind, images that become more visceral as your fingers slip beyond the thin material of your soaked panties.

And in this fantasy, there's both of them, working you, stuffing you… until you can’t handle anymore, until you cry out both their names as you fall apart.

The worst bit? With time, your desire for them — or, whatever the hell you want to call it — has only grown stronger. It used to be that you’d run into them in the corridor, exchange a few ordinary greetings, maybe flash a pearly smile, and leave as they melt into man-sized puddles. Now if you run into each other, you all leave flustered, fumbling for the locks on your paint-chipped doors, desperately trying to conceal whatever indulgent thoughts you all harbour in your minds.

“You okay?” Frank’s gruff voice snaps you back down to earth.

You shake your head as you snap awake, your doe-eyes meeting his. “Hmm?”

He blushes, fingers straining against his coffee mug. “You just started starin’ off in the distance…”

You offer him a tight-lipped smile as your chest rises with a rapid breath, doing your best to ignore the second pulse that’s appeared in between your legs.

You really had to daydream at the right time, huh?

“Look,” he coughs, diverting his gaze, again, “M’sorry for uh… interruptin’ your–”

The graphic image of his body in yours while Matt’s underneath clouds your vision, and it turns your knees to jelly. “I-it’s fine.”

You spin on your heels, intent on dropping one of your arms to reach for the side door, but you conceive an idea.

“Hey Frank?”

“Yeah?”

You turn to face him. “Let’s go out tonight. You know that wine bar between 10th and 11th?”

He musses a hand through his hair, eyebrows raising as he nods. “Really?”

“What,” you pout, “you don’t wanna?”

A wry smile creeps across your face as he straightens his spine, the intensity of your stare a little too much for him as his eyes flick away, throat bobbing as he shifts in his stance, almost uncomfortably.

Oh.

You stifle a gasp, zoning in on the faint outline of him, straining against his jeans.

Pupils blown and lips pursed, he catches you staring, watching intently as your tongue snakes out to wet your lips. The vein in his neck is as prominent as ever as his eyes wander over your body, at your bikini bottoms that leave almost nothing to the imagination, at your half-naked self standing there in his presence.

An idea crosses your mind. An insanely, obscene, insane idea, but oh, you’re devious. Frank squeezes his coffee mug tighter, eyes pulsating as the corners of your mouth upturn into a cheeky grin…

And your hands drop from your chest.

All you hear is the soft murmur of a holy shit, the ceramic mug shattering apart in his hands, and the sound of your laugh echoing in the wind, carrying itself across the rooftops.

“I’ll see you tonight at 7, Frank.”

Matt catches you in the hallway later that day as you’re running errands, heartbeat thundering in your ears as he walks himself into your shoulder. He murmurs a quick ‘sorry’, straightening his suit jacket, preparing to continue his walk ahead.

“It’s me, Matt!” you call out, biting your lips he turns, his composure cracking with an infectious chuckle and a smile that crinkles his eyes.

He motions to his cane, shrugging his shoulders. “Whoops.”

Rolling your eyes, you push off your heels, inching closer to him, his voice smooth in your ears. “How was your day?”

You focus on a small piece of white lint sitting awkwardly on Matt’s lapel as he shifts his weight onto one foot, running your tongue over your teeth as you contemplate whether or not to flick it off.

“Actually,” you start, heat singeing the back of your neck as Frank pops into your mind, “you know what? It wasn’t that bad. How was yours?”

Matt chuckles half-heartedly, nodding. “That’s uh, that’s great to hear. Mine was… well, we received a hundred rhubarb pies as payment today. S’for a client we helped a while back.”

He leans his head in towards your giggle, hand flying up to loosen his tie. “Alright, I’m exaggerating,” – he tips his head to the side – “I’m told there were… four, at best, but Foggy’s acting like we have that many.”

A moment of silence passes between you, nothing but a gust of warm wind filling the negative space. Your breath picks up as your mind races. Say something. Anything.

A look of uncertainty flashes across Matt’s face as he purses his lips, hand coming up to brush against his stubble. “Look, I’ve– I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but–”

“For a while?” you interject, raising your eyebrows.

“Yeah, a while,” – he rounds his shoulders, both hands gripping his cane – “d’ya wanna get a drink somewhere?”

“Are you asking me on a date, Matthew?”

He laughs, cheeks reddening at your question. “Only if that’s fine with you.”

“Hang on a second, how long exactly have you been thinking about this?”

Flustered, Matt pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, dimples showing as he tries to hide his sheepish smile. “A while.”

“Stop me when I get close.”

He grins from ear-to-ear.

“One month?” you ask.

“No.”

You feign surprise. “Three months?”

“Nope.”

Matt laughs as you gasp, loudly. Too loudly. “A year.”

“Longer than that, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The nickname pools in your thighs, heating the tips of your ears, forcing you to bite back a moan.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Matt asks, nudging your foot with his cane.

What about Frank?

The memory of the obvious tent in Frank’s jeans tugs on the knot building behind your stomach.

“I– well, I have the apartment to myself tonight, so I could cook. For you,” Matt says, voice lined with anticipation.

“Huh,” you look up, swallowing a laugh. “Frank isn’t home tonight?”

Matt scrunches his face. “Uh… no. He said he had something on. I figured I might as well take advantage of the quiet.”

In an instant, a thought blossoms in your mind. It’s devious, it is so goddamn devious, but oh…

So are you.

You step forwards, breath coming out a little shaky as the heat from his body reflects onto yours. Reaching a hand up to his lapel, you brush off the lint you were eyeing earlier, indulging in the earnest grunt that falls from Matt’s lips.

“7 PM,” you whisper in his ear. “Meet me at the wine bar between 10th and 11th.”

He presses your hand against his collarbone, holding it steady as he tilts his head downwards. You’re shuddering at his touch, at the warmth and tingles it shoots through your veins, at the unexpected coarseness of his hands.

“It’s a date,” he confirms, letting go of your hand, the dimples in his grin remaining as he unlocks the door to his apartment.

The wine bar is intimate; only the sounds of hushed whispers and the clinking of glasses keeping you company. You tap your fingers against the lacquered wooden table, sucking in your cheeks as you look at the time. 7.15 PM. You’re a little annoyed, not just at the fact that they’re late, but at the straps of your sundress, thin and finicky things sliding off your shoulders with even the tiniest of movements. A sigh escapes your lips, condensation blooming across the wineglass in front of your face. Maybe they figured you’d double booked them, asked them to the same venue and on the same date without saying much more. So much for your devious little plan, huh?

You pick at your nails, wine crisp on your tastebuds, each subsequent sip making you dizzy, but slowly taking the edge off. Who cares if they don’t show up? You need a night out anyway.

As if on cue, the door opens, catching on the little silver doorbell, and Frank steps inside, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Your breath hitches in your throat as you take him in. He’s somehow even more ruggedly handsome tonight, sharp jawline perfectly illuminated by the warm lighting.

He apologises to you profusely, pulling you in for a tight hug, the contact from the muscles flexing under his thin shirt heating your skin. He motions to the bartender for a glass of whatever you’re having, setting the flowers down beside you.

He rests his forearms on the table, dark eyes peering into yours. “Will you excuse my tardiness, pretty girl?”

Oh, my fuck. What the hell is it with you and nicknames?

‘Pretty girl’ jolts you upright with a throb, and it takes every single ounce of strength you possess not to just uproot him by the collar and have him right then and there. Unfortunately, your reaction is poorly masked, and you’re forced to watch as Frank’s knowing smile grows, stretching larger as the bartender brings him his drink.

“Cheers,” he says, lifting his glass to yours, tongue peeking out to wet his lips, eyes moving lazily up and down your torso.

Frank leans back in the booth as he takes a sip, his shirt riding up to expose the smallest sliver of skin. “So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the reason for,” – he waves his hands around – “all this?”

You swallow what’s left of your wine, pressing your lips together. What were you supposed to say, that you were sick of the sexual tension and all you wanted was to have fun with Frank and his equally sexy roommate?

You say something else instead. “I like being spontaneous, Frank.”

He cocks his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. “S’that so?”

You let out a sharp laugh. “I’m sick of doing the same thing all the time, and I need a little change in scenery.”

Frank shuffles towards you, muscles rippling under his long-sleeved shirt. “And you think I can do that for ‘ya?”

A half-smirk tugs on the corners of your lips as your fingers start to dance to where his hands are resting on the table…

But you jerk your hand back, ears pricking up at the sound of the door swinging open and slamming against the wooden frame, followed by a loud ‘sorry’ offered to whoever’s tending the bar.

Your stomach turns as the bartender guides Matt to your table at your signal.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Still think this is a good idea?

You’re not sure where to look as Frank’s sour expression shoots daggers straight at you, moving over hesitantly to make room for Matt in the booth.

Matt’s cold shoulder towards Frank is way too obvious as he sits down, setting his neatly folded cane on the table.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he swallows, “I had something I had to… take care of. But I came here as soon as I could.”

You glance down, flinching at the scabs across his knuckles, at the deep purple bruise on his cheek marring his features. There it is again, that thing about him you can’t quite figure out.

“Yeah, okay, the fuck is this?” Frank turns to you, quizzical look bordering on anger.

“I’m sorry, I thought this was a date,” – Matt chimes in, wagging his finger at you – “between the two of us”.

“She asked me here, Red,” Frank whips his head around, shoulders tensing.

Matt scoffs, throwing his head back. “You? She asked you.”

Frank grits his teeth, fists clenching tightly together. “Shut the hell up. At least I had the decency to get the lady flowers.”

Matt laughs scornfully. “Oh yeah Castle, that’s so original of you.”

“We needa take this outside, Red?”

The clink of three whiskey glasses being set down on your table is loud enough to collapse their argument.

The server clears their throat. “Excuse me. Courtesy of that man over there,” — they pause, pointing — “if you keep it down.”

You thank the server, flashing an apologetic smile at the man in the corner, and pull a glass towards you, tipping it straight into your mouth. Frank does the same, waving at the bar for three more, while Matt sips his furtively, licking his lips before he swallows.

“I can explain,” you start, grateful for the warmth of the whiskey spreading through your veins.

Your face grows hot as Matt and Frank sit back in the booth, training their attention on you. With your heart thundering in your chest, the alcohol rushes to your head, hitting you with that little bit of confidence you need.

You lean forwards on the table, cocking your head to the side. “Let’s not sugarcoat this, alright?”

Frank shoots a sideways glance at Matt.

“You two think you’re so slick with your looks, and comments and… sink fixing,” you say, fingers curling into fists, “but the truth is, you don’t hide it well. At all.”

Matt presses his lips together as he slides his glasses up the bridge of his nose, while Frank takes a shallow breath.

Your forearms are now completely on the wood as you inch closer. “If you want me, you can just say so.”

The space between the three of you suddenly goes dead quiet; so quiet it’s as if time has fallen away, leaving you in your own little bubble.

“It’s lucky,” you pause, “that I have an affinity for you both. And I thought maybe… just maybe, we could have a little fun together.” You turn your head, making sure Frank catches the mischievous glint in your eyes.

You’re so far forwards now that your head is in between theirs, and you bring your hands up to their cheeks, pushing them closer to you. With their heads almost touching, and your lips one breath away from their ears, you feel the shudder running through their spines reverberate into your body. “Maybe we can make it a little interesting, hmm? Only if you’re up for it,” you wink.

Matt’s smirk peaks your nipples, spurring you to lower your voice, words dripping like honey. “Let’s just say the person who makes me cum the most tonight can take me on a real date.”

To his credit, Matt keeps his cool, merely interlacing his hands together on the table, sucking his cheeks in. Frank curses under his breath, gaze narrowing as he studies you, contemplating your proposition.

Matt is the first to speak, his voice dipping an octave. “Let’s go.”

Frank jerks his head in Matt’s direction, eyes wide. “Huh?”

Matt’s tone is insistent now. “Let’s get outta here.”

“Fuck, Red,” Frank whispers, hand coming up to stroke his chin, as the server sets three more whiskeys down on the table.

You exchange a glance with Frank before you throw back the liquid, head shaking as it burns the back of your throat. They follow suit, wasting no time at all, and while Frank leaves a generous tip at the table, you make a beeline for the door.

The cab is way too small for the three of you, but you squeeze into the middle seat anyway, biting back a wicked grin as Matt leans forward to give the driver his address.

There’s not a lot of space – well, not when you’re caught between two individuals with the muscle mass of an entire Planet Fitness combined – but you try to relax, heart racing as your body presses up against theirs. Something clenches in your jaw as you shuffle in the seat, the paper-wrapped bouquet of flowers crinkling by your feet. You’re not sure where to put your hands, but they come to settle at the edge of your sundress, where it’s ridden up almost beyond the point of modesty.

A thick finger sweeps against the back of your neck, catching you off-guard. The half-gasp half-cough you let out is louder than intended, and it draws the attention of the cab driver, who looks at you from his rearview mirror.

“Everything okay, miss?” he asks, concerned.

You will yourself to snap out of it, out of that lust-filled daze, squeezing your legs together as the throbbing in between your thighs intensifies.

“Yes,” you gulp. “Everything’s fine, thank you.”

Frank waits until the driver flicks his gaze back to the road ahead. “Didn’t mean to scare ‘ya, sweetheart. You want me to stop?”

You purse your lips. “No.”

He takes his hand away from your neck and hovers over the patch of skin your sundress did cover. He drags the tips of his fingers up your thigh, stopping just high enough to hear the tremble in your breath, shooting you a half-smirk as you suck your cheeks in.

“Frank.” Matt’s tone is stern as he tilts his chin upwards, nostrils flaring with his rising temper. “I thought we agreed to wait.”

Frank’s laugh is mirthlessly low. “Who said that, Red?”

You stare at your knee, at the big hand that’s found its mark. You’ve never noticed how gorgeous Frank’s hands are, the way he keeps his fingernails neatly trimmed, forked veins on the topside pulsating as he grips tighter, the light pink striations of healed scars running over his knuckles. And those fingers… God, if his fingers are that thick already, what would his–

You bite down on your lip, hard, as Frank pulls your knee towards him, spreading you apart in the seat. Fuck. Every nerve in your body is on fire as he lifts your hand up to his mouth, static electricity buzzing as his lips graze over your knuckles.

While Frank’s other hand slides under your dress, up to where the thin waistband of your panties sit, Matt leans over, as if to fix his seatbelt. Your eyes lull back in your head as he creeps forward instead, fingers skimming the inside of your thigh, their combined actions threatening to elicit a moan from your lips.

You’re not in control anymore.

Actually, you haven’t been in control for ages. It takes all of your willpower – well, what’s left of it – to not cry out, to not sit as far back as possible and let them…

“That’ll be $29.30,” the driver announces, brakes screeching as he pulls up outside your apartment building.

“Fuck!” you curse under your breath, reaching for your purse as you pull down your dress.

Matt grabs your wrist, locking it in place as he takes out his wallet, gliding one finger along the top of the bills.

“I think this is a 50… Frank, a little help please?” Frank grunts in agreement as Matt hands the bill to the driver. “Keep the change.”

You don’t care that you flash Frank a little as he helps you out, smirking as you watch his chest tighten at the little scrap of fabric barely covering you, clenching the bouquet of flowers in his other hand. You yelp as he pulls you out towards him, flush against the hard muscle of his chest.

His gaze is piercing as he tips your chin upwards, irises paper thin around blown pupils. “You sure you know what you’re gettin’ into, pretty girl?”

You swat his hand away. “Oh Frank, I’m not quite sure you’re ready for me.”

“What, you think I can’t handle you or somethin’?”

He trains his eyes on your mouth as it shifts into a wry smile, your tongue darting out to lick your lips in one smooth motion. Frank opens his mouth to retort, to say something with the intention of buckling your knees, but Matt walks up to you with perfect timing, offering you his arm.

“Walk with me?”

Frank groans, throwing his head back. “How many times do I have to tell ‘ya, Red? You can’t keep using that trick. What happens the day someone says no, huh? Can’t walk by yourself?”

A hearty laugh bubbles from Matt’s chest. “First of all, go to hell. Secondly,” – his voice drops to a whisper – “no one’s gonna say no to a blind man.”

He turns to you, arm still on offer. “Right, sweetheart?”

You savour the priceless look on Frank’s face as you take Matt’s arm, linking it in yours. “Absolutely, Matthew.”

The walk upstairs to their apartment is excruciatingly slow; every step laced with the type of tension that sits thickly in the air. Arm still in tow with Matt’s, Frank trails behind the two of you, the thud of his boots against the wood echoing loudly in the stairway. You can feel him staring at you, at the way your dress flutters with each step upwards, the little glimpses of your ass making his mouth go dry.

Matt stops on the next landing, jerking your arm to do the same. Wordlessly, he drops his cane to the ground, unlinking his arm, tilting his chin upwards as if to settle his phantom gaze on you.

His lips are on yours before you can say anything, hands dropping to your waist, inching you towards the wall until he has you pinned. You mewl as he slips the straps of your dress off your shoulders, trailing his kisses down your neck, pressing himself into you.

“If there’s anything you’re uncomfortable with,” – he rasps, nipping a sensitive spot on your neck – “you tell us, okay?”

He smirks against your mouth as you tell him ‘yes’, dragging the tips of his fingers from your collarbone down your arm.

But the kiss is over as quickly as it started.

“Hey, hey, hey, what the fuck, Red?” Frank spits, yanking Matt back by the collar.

“Fuck you, Frank,” Matt retorts, stepping forward as his hands tighten into fists.

You stifle a giggle, trying your best not to show your amusement at the flowers that undercut Frank’s tone.

Frank looks at you, nostrils flaring at the way Matt’s messed up your hair. “Darlin’, it’s a fair competition, yeah?”

Matt interjects as you start to agree. “Alright, Castle, then tell me how much fun you had before I got there. You had a head start.”

Frank throws his hands up in the air, shaking his head. “For God’s sake Red, I didn’t ask for you to be late–”

Matt presses his lips together, cupping his hands over his face, the exasperation in his voice imminent. “I had things to do, Frank, I–”

You clear your throat. “Why don’t you two save this for when we’re upstairs, huh?”

They turn their heads in your direction, nodding.

The two remaining flights of stairs disappear under your feet in a matter of seconds.

You swear you hear a crack as Frank bursts into the apartment, ushering you in as he scrambles to kick the front door closed. Matt lets out a little laugh as you drag him inside, stomach twisting as he yanks your hand, spinning you towards him. His lips find yours in an instant as he shrugs his suit jacket off, hands coming up to cup your jaw.

Bouquet of flowers still in hand, Frank rushes to find a vase, faucet creaking as he waits for it to fill up.

“Hey!” he yells out, “Better not start anything without me!”

Matt breaks away from your kiss to undo his tie, whipping his head towards Frank in the kitchen. “Like you waited in the cab?”

He groans into your mouth as your tongue swipes along his bottom lip, teeth gently clashing together as he steadies his hands on your face.

“Frank?!” Matt calls, pulling off his glasses.

“Yeah?”

“Here.” Matt throws his glasses at Frank, who catches them in one hand, setting them onto the counter with a soft click.

As his mouth meets yours again, Matt’s hands begin to wander. As his thumbs brush over your nipples, he dances his fingers upwards, lingering for a moment on the hollow of your throat, coaxing a soft gasp from you as he uses a knuckle to trace its outline.

His lips skirt your collarbone as he lifts your dress up, grunting as he kneads your ass, grinding his hard cock into your leg. He continues moving his hands up to where your panties sit on your hips, picking at the waistband, listening intently for the snap of the elastic against your skin as he lets go.

There it is again, that fucking smirk.

“Matt,” you exhale sharply, nipping at his earlobe as he snaps your waistband once again. “Matt…”

“God, I love it when you say my name like that,” he groans, tugging your panties down your thighs.

He presses closer to you, wedging his hand under your dress, tracing a finger up your slick folds. You’re squirming in place, chest heaving as he puts pressure on your clit, circling it in a way that pulls on the knot building behind your stomach.

You make a sound you’ve never heard before as Frank comes up behind you, thick hands gripping your waist, holding you in place, steadying you for something you’ve only ever fantasised about.

Matt sinks his fingers into you, thumb still moving over your clit, brushing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

“Attagirl,” Frank whispers, as you tip your head back into his shoulder, vision going blurry at the way Matt curls his fingers inside you.

You’re a mess, dripping all over his hand, keening into his touch.

Frank’s voice is husky in your ear. “Look up at – that’s right, baby, look up at me.”

You stare into Frank’s eyes, mouth parted in a perfect ‘o’ as Matt growls, thumb so slick with your arousal that he glides over your clit with ease. All you manage to get out is ‘mmhm’ before Frank brings his fingers to your lips, commanding you to ‘suck’.

Frank purses his lips, throat bobbing as you seal your mouth around his fingers, bucking against Matt’s touch, eyes rolling back as he hits the back of your throat, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“That’s right, darlin’,” Frank rasps, watching the uneven rise and fall of your chest, the telltale sign of your impending release.

Your cry is muffled as your orgasm rips through your body, flooding Matt’s hand, his own slacks staining with his leaking precum. There’s a string of spit clinging to Frank as he slides his fingers out from your mouth with a pop, but it doesn’t phase him; not one bit. In fact, he tips his head down to look at you like a trophy, something like a mix of awe and desire manifesting in his darkened gaze.

You wobble as Matt and Frank step away from you, slipping your dress off as you right your balance on the couch behind, bracing your wrists on the soft leather.

But there’s no rest for the wicked, and Frank beckons you towards him as he pulls his shirt off, leaving it in a heap on the floor. He sweeps you in for a kiss, full lips insistent against yours. He’s a little rougher than Matt, but somehow, his mouth is more forgiving, warm and soft as it melds to yours. You break the kiss, stepping back for a second to look him up and down, taking in as much detail as possible.

“Holy hell,” you say, Frank’s responding expression evidence that you actually said that out loud, and not in your head.

He looks at the floor, shyly messing a hand through his hair. “S’there uh… something you like?”

“Something I like?!” you exclaim, ogling him.

“Shut up, Frank. How the– Oh my God, Matt, get over here,” you command, motioning Frank to come up behind you.

You waste no time in unbuttoning Matt’s shirt, working your way from top to bottom. Unlike Frank and his efforts to woo you by walking around shirtless, you’ve never seen Matt without clothes on. He’s always in something, to your disdain…

Until now.

A gasp escapes your lips – partly from the way Frank’s leaving marks all over your neck – at Matt’s tanned skin underneath, at what he’s been hiding this entire time. You run your hand over the vast expanse of him, jaw dropping as he flexes underneath your hand, rigid muscle sending heat to your core. Your heart stills at the scars flecking his torso, some well healed, some angry and red as if they’re new.

Frank skirts his fingers over your nipples, pulling from you the tiniest whimper.

“Uh…” Matt starts, vacant eyes flicking upwards. “I can explain–”

Your voice hushes to a whisper. “Don’t worry about it, Matty, j-just… just c’mere, okay?”

The sound of Frank’s belt being unbuckled makes your breath catch in your throat, the clinking of metal ringing faintly in your ears as your fingers graze the deep vee lines on Matt’s hips. You watch as Matt sucks his cheeks in, cock twitching against the fabric of his slacks as you hook yourself into his waistband, pulling him closer to you by his belt.

Your mouth melts against his before you turn to Frank, who you know is desperate for attention from the way his arousal presses hard into your back. His tongue slips against yours, hand curving your jaw, tracing the contours of your face before it settles on your breast, drawing out a stifled moan as he rolls your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

“Alright Red,” Frank pants into your mouth, “I’m done being nice.”

Matt laughs scornfully as he kisses your neck hungrily, reaching around to your aching cunt once more.

Frank grunts as you palm him over his underwear, throwing his head back at the sensitivity of your touch. “Baby, did he make you cum good?”

You gulp, nodding as Frank smacks Matt’s hand away, rough fingers taking residence on your clit. “Yeah, Frank.”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “Really? ‘Cause that was altar boy’s first time touchin’ a pussy.”

Matt puffs his chest out, striding forward. “Oh, you–”

Frank offers Matt nothing but a smug laugh as he picks you up over his shoulder, fingers digging into your waist as he carries you to the couch like you weigh nothing. Goosebumps erupt all over you as the cool leather makes contact with your skin, then as Frank knocks your knees apart with the push of a hand. A chill runs down your spine as you bare yourself to them, and although you know Matt can’t see you spread out like you want him to, you get the idea he knows exactly what’s going on; maybe the scent of your heightened arousal is easier for him to pick up.

“I haven’t let you off the hook, Castle,” Matt snarls. “You and me? After this we’re gonna settle it our way, yeah?”

“If it makes you sleep better at night, then yeah,” Frank retorts, head settling in between your legs.

Matt curses under his breath, fists coming up to press against his forehead. “Okay– just, fine. Just describe her to me Frank? Can you do that, then we’re even?”

“For now.”

“Fine, for now.”

You wiggle up on the couch, propping yourself up by your elbows as Frank flares his nostrils, inhaling you before him. “Fuck Red… the way she’s lyin’ on her back, spread out like this…”

Matt shudders as he palms himself, nodding.

You feel yourself heating up as you continue listening. “And she’s– she’s fucking drippin’, God, fuck.”

“Yeah?” Matt pants, shrugging off his slacks, hand closing around his cock as it springs free, tip leaking with precum. “Keep going.”

“And now, I’m gonna lick her pretty little clit.” Frank looks into your eyes, lips pressed together in a hard line. “You want me to do that for you, baby?”

The way your breath shakes as you say ‘yes’ makes the both of them smirk.

Then, Frank’s tongue flattens against your clit, drawing from you a sound you’ve only ever made while fantasising about them, only in the privacy of your bedroom, of your shower, and wherever else you’ve thought about them. Your back arches as he licks wet circles into you, pressure feeling like velvet on the most sensitive part of your body.

Matt finds a spot next to you as he strokes himself, eyes squeezed shut as the sounds you make travel through his body. You reach out, wrapping your hand around his cock as he leans over to play with your tits, marvelling at the thick length before you, at the way it looks like it was made for your pleasure.

‘Come here, Matt. You’re begging to be sucked’ are all the words you can manage in between moans, but he comes up right next to you, slapping his tip on your tongue. He groans as you lick along the underside of him, along the prominent vein that pulsates with every touch. He lets out a half-cry as you seal your mouth over him, taking him in so deep that he hits the back of your throat.

You start to bob your head, hand coming up to work his shaft in tandem, but Frank’s tongue slipping itself into the warmest, wettest part of you breaks you wholly, head tipping back as your peak sails through you.

Mouth and chin glistening with your cum, Frank looks up at you smugly, watching your erratic breathing as you come down from your high. He wipes his mouth before pushing off the couch to take his underwear off, cock so hard it slaps against his stomach. Your mouth goes dry at the girth, legs crossing over from the thought of him stretching you out; the pain that’ll give way to pleasure.

You get off the couch to kneel between them both, rug under your knees semi-cushioning you from the hardwood floor. A shudder runs through your body as you look up at them, standing tall over you, every hard contour of muscle illuminated in the dim light of the apartment. Pupils dilated and mind buzzing with the thought of every single thing you’d like to do to their bodies, you reach upwards, hands closing around their cocks, throbbing and warm under your touch. Your strokes are languid as you relish in the sounds that tumble from their mouths, string of curses music to your ears.

As your pace quickens, Matt tangles a hand in your hair. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this for,” he says, jerking your head back ever-so-slightly at the jolt of pleasure that runs through his body.

“Hmm,” you chuckle, flattening your tongue on his head, the half-howl half-cry he gives you making your legs shake. “And what about you, Frank?” You look up at him with innocent eyes as you shift to his cock, coating him in your saliva as he fucks the back of your throat.

He ruts into your mouth, grunting the words out. “Ever since I first laid eyes on you, darlin’.”

You move back to Matt, hand gliding easier along Frank’s length with the help of your spit, licking the underside of him before you take him all into your mouth. “Did you ever think this was gonna happen?”

Frank laughs as you push them together closer to you, taking turns to blow them. “You should see Red, jerkin’ himself to the thought of you.”

Frank jabs Matt in the chest lightly. “He’s not quiet about it.”

Matt turns red in the darkness, pursing his lips as his cock hits a spot at the back of your throat, making you gag. “Oh and what about you, Castle?”

Frank’s voice is gruff as he reaches down to play with your nipples. “Oh shut it, Red.”

You render them speechless for a second as you stuff them both into your mouth, stretching your lips to fit them in as much as possible. They’re big, bigger than you’ve ever had, so they barely fit, but God, you’re so good, trying to please them both at the same time.

“Fuck,” they curse, voices dropping an octave, Matt’s hand coiling tighter in your hair. Tears spill down your cheeks as you get sloppier, strings of saliva following you from one cock to the other.

“I can hear you,” – Matt pants – “saying her name in the shower.”

“Yeah, so? Maybe I did, once or twice.”

“No, no, no,” Matt laughs, “Not once or twice. All the damn time.”

Frank growls as Matt opens his mouth, fake moaning your name brazenly. “Cum for me darlin’, cum for m–”

A well placed kick to Matt’s ankle shuts him up, making him stumble backwards. “Yeah, okay, now I’m gonna say that to her for real.”

Frank shuffles behind you, bending you over the coffee table, pinning your outstretched arms at the wrists. The rug burn on your knees makes you hiss, but the resounding smack on your ass distracts you from the pain. It’s soothed by Frank’s wet cock slapping gently against his handprint, and then the trail of kisses he leaves from the welt to your pussy. He licks a broad stripe up your folds before plunging his fingers inside you, tongue exploring every part of you to see what sounds you make, what you like… what’s gonna get you to your next orgasm.

You let out a sharp exhale as you feel Frank being shoved away, the night air cold on your bare pussy, but you’re sent straight back to heaven as Matt’s mouth meets your core, tongue slipping inside your entrance as he spreads you apart with his hands. You recognise him by the way he eats you; he’s so much more gentler than Frank, taking his time with you as he worships your body.

But you’re not ready for the sensation of Frank lapping at your clit while Matt tongue-fucks your hole, the mewls and whimpers falling from your lips spurring them on to lick faster, prod deeper. You feel the pressure behind your stomach building to a crescendo, one that’s broken apart as you hear the sound of scuffling behind you, turning to see that Frank’s put Matt in a headlock.

Your eyes roll backwards in annoyance, frustrated at the way they’ve left you high and dry, a mix of your cum and their saliva dripping down your thighs and no orgasm to match.

“Darlin’?” Frank calls, slamming his hands on Matt’s chest.

“Yes, Frank?” you mumble, stretching your back over the coffee table.

“You want my cock?”

“Yes.”

In a flurry, Frank gets Matt flat on the ground enough that he can’t rise up to retaliate, not quickly at least, before pushing himself right into you. The combination of his thick girth and length makes you sweat, makes your eyes lull back in your head; the burn of the stretch slowly giving way to pleasure as he grinds into you.

He pulls back, far enough that you feel only the tip of him remaining inside, before slamming his hips into yours. You fall apart instantly as he drives his cock into that spot inside you, walls clenching and back arching as you pulsate around him.

Matt gets up, feet poised into a stance that screams ‘I’m gonna fucking kill you, Frank.’

“Did you? Did you just make her –”

“You’re goddamn right I did.”

Matt lets out an angry sigh before he helps you up, leading you to the dining table. He hoists you up on the table, brushing your hair to the side before grinning in your ear, every word dripping with want. “Alright sweetheart, here’s what’s gonna happen okay? I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve. None of that bullshit Castle’s been giving to you this whole time.”

The quiver in your breath makes him chuckle. “Ready for me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours?”

He drags his teeth along your pulse as you murmur ‘yes’ in his ear, nipping at the bruises Frank’s already left on your neck. You dig your nails into his shoulder as he traces himself on your folds, teasing you until you squeeze him, desperate for the gratification you know his cock will provide.

Frank comes up beside you, bending down to swirl his tongue over your nipple, fingers featherlight on your clit as he rubs it in small circles. You bite down on your bottom lip as Matt guides himself inside you, pushing until he can’t go any deeper, Frank’s fingers still wedged in between you.

He grits his teeth as he fucks you, one hand on your waist and the other wrapped around your thigh, the wet squelches of his thrusts almost too much for him to bear. Matt isn’t as girthy as Frank, but he reaches the deepest parts of you effortlessly, pistoning himself at an angle that makes you cry out his name. The way he drills himself into you echoes throughout the room, the sound of his hips snapping against yours the only thing you can focus on before you throw your head back, exploding on him.

Matt’s cocky grin makes you weak as he pulls out, chin levelling into Frank’s glowering stare. He brandishes his hands in front of him, palms pointed to you as if to say, ‘your turn now’.

Frank huffs at Matt as he scoops his hands under your ass, pulling you closer to the edge of the table. He wastes no time in filling your body with his, bending his knees as he drives himself upwards. You’re cockdumb at this point, eyes half-lidded and utterly glazed over, dopey smile the only thing you can muster as Matt tilts your chin up to his, kissing you hungrily as you moan into his mouth. Every thrust pulls from you a little mumble of unintelligible words, every nerve of yours firing at rates you didn’t think possible.

“Who’s winning, baby? Me or Frank?” Matt purrs, tongue scraping along your bottom lip.

“You’re b– fuck! Fuck, Frank!” – you say, in between his ruthless thrusts and the wicked gleam from his smile – “You’re both so good.”

You clench so tightly that Frank pops out of you for a second, but he doesn’t wait a beat to stuff himself back into you, continuing the relentless pace you know will have you ripped apart within minutes.

“That’s not good enough for us, darlin’,” Frank grits his teeth, hands digging into your ass.

“Sweetheart, I can’t even see and I know he’s not fucking you right.”

Frank snarls at Matt, swatting him out of the way as he lifts you onto his cock, off the table. Gripping your lower back, he pumps into you harder, the new angle making you want to tip your head back and howl. Ecstasy shoots through your veins as he carries you to the bedroom, cock still buried deep inside you.

He rakes his nails up your back as he uses your waist as leverage, moving you up and down on his cock with almost no effort at all.

“Yeah darlin’,” he groans, “You feel so fuckin’ good for me, you know that?”

You whimper in response, kissing him to muffle the cry that builds up from within… and your peak sails through your body, every muscle going taut, toes curling, fingernails leaving marks on his shoulders as your overstimulated body responds to his pleasure.

He lowers you on the bed, bracketing your head with his forearms, languid kisses matching the pace of his hips. You can feel every inch of him as he thrusts into you, body expanding to accommodate him as he stills inside.

“You’re fucking infuriating, Castle,” Matt barks, standing over the two of you as he strokes himself.

“Yeah, well, if you ain’t strong enough to fuck her standing, just say so,” Frank chuckles mirthlessly, coaxing you over the edge once more.

“You didn’t give me the goddamn chance!”

“Chance?” Frank spits, squeezing one of your tits, mattress dipping as he gets off the bed. “Oh by all means Red, be my guest.”

You’re caught between a gasp and a sharp exhale as fury embeds itself in Matt’s face, lips contorting into a snarl. You’ve never seen this side of him before; this dark edge simultaneously scaring you and turning you on more than you already are.

Something snaps in Matt.

He moves so quickly you almost miss it, akin to lightning flashing in a thunderstorm, pile-driving Frank into the bed so hard it’s a tangle of limbs and testosterone. Frank hits the bed, hard, hissing as Matt’s fist makes contact with his jaw, and then…

The soft splintering of wood, pricking Matt’s ears, sending him on high alert.

And the bed breaks. Two out of four legs collapsing in on themselves, the entire bed sinking on one side, catching all three of you off guard.

“Oops,” Matt grimaces, sheepish smile adorning his face.

Frank clicks his tongue, shaking his head at the broken bed as he gets up to his feet. “Goddamn it, Red. Really had to let your anger get the better of ‘ya, huh?”

You don’t care that your words are slurring a little. You’re cockdazed, and they better learn how to deal with it real fast. “Oh my God. You know what? I’m so sick of– I should’ve never made this bet if it was gonna get you two riled up like this–”

You wobble as you stand up, scowl scrunching your nose as you bare your teeth. “I’m so–”

Matt shuts you up with a kiss, not caring that your teeth clash a little, pulling you close to him by the ass. The feeling of his hard cock pressed up against your stomach melts you from within, drawing out a moan you can’t bite back.

“You’re right, sweetheart. We’re sorry,” Matt murmurs, tangling his fingers in the back of your head.

“Yeah darlin’, he’s right. We can get uh… a little competitive,” Frank lowers his voice, coming up behind you to press his kisses into your neck.

You scoff, but it’s quickly replaced by a soft sound, one that indicates you’re far from being done.

“I dunno, Red, you think she still wants us?” Frank grits, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Oh yeah,” Matt smirks, rubbing his cock on your clit, “I think she does.”

“I promise we’re gonna make it up to you, alright?” Frank teases, running his finger over the curve of your jaw. “Whatcha say, Red, wanna stuff her and make her scream for us?”

Matt’s devious smirk grows larger. “Only if she’s fine with it.”

He tips your chin upwards, the action exposing your neck enough so Frank can close his hand around it. “Are you fine with that?”

“You got some making up to do, gentlemen.”

“S’that a yes?” they say together.

“Yes.”

“Well, the bed is broken,” Matt sniffs the air, “but, we have all night and the entire apartment to explore, right?”

Matt’s grin is different now. Devilish.

And more so when Frank reciprocates it, eyes glinting with a feral hunger. “You’re damn right.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock smut #frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader smut #the punisher #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader x matt murdock #matt murdock x reader x frank castle #rhi's mutuals 💗#daredevil #rhi responds 💌#saintmurd0ck 200 milestone celebration #rhi writes 💻#x reader

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gyunglitter · 6 months

Text

introducing𓏧

the losers club !!

summary: just you dicking around with txt college!au besties

warnings: doja cat fandom slander, mentions of soobin's feet, mentions of bullying, cursing

contrary to your group’s self-appointed nickname, you guys are actually well known (and liked!) on campus!! :D

you guys have NO IDEA as to how so many people on campus grew to like you and want to hang out with you

especially since you guys had a hard time in school before

but woohoo to not peaking in high school right?!

tbh, you guys are testaments to that second round of puberty nobody talks about

ya know, the glow up that happens after you graduate high school and get away from all the pricks you were forced to see everyday?

yup, you and your losers are finally thriving

besides when you’re dying bc of all your classes and tests

but yeah

while other ppl really like your group’s personalities

YOU GUYS ARE SUPER HOT TOO🤭

i mean, just look at y’all!

[choi yeonjun]-

‘99 liner//junior

took a gap year before getting dragged back to go to school so he could learn to be a normal human being

did someone say IT BOY??

literally the girls and the gays are in love with this man

dance major and student athlete who unironically does zumba every saturday morning

had no social life in high school because kid was NEVER there

he was a bored only child, while his neglectful parents were filthy rich and figured their kid could do whatever he wanted to entertain himself

so what he wanted, they got it—including vacations

with him being gone so much, his classmates always wondered who this choi yeonjun guy was and how he could miss so much school while still passing

though the intrigue kind of stopped when he pulled up to school with the ugliest shoes to walk south korea

him and his obnoxious shoes gave a lot of people the ick :(

but never fear, yeonjun and his footwear are just ahead of their time!

(you can't say they are in quite yet, but they probably will come around some day!!)

yeonjun typically spent his days doing sports, travelling, and running away from talent scouts lmao

no idol life for him in THIS lifetime

but as life would have it, the man is too scrumptious to be out of the spotlight for too long

bc he became a model not too long after college started due to a school project photoshoot went viral on twitter!!

his twitter is a minefield while he reserves his insta for the wholesome content :)

[choi soobin]-

‘00 liner//junior

glue of the group despite insisting how much he HATES y’all

broadcast and entertainment major so he can get into the entertainment industry and get the bts of moviemaking!!

(really just wants to meet all of his favorite voice actors tbh)

known for being the Ultimate Boyfriend™ despite never actually being in a relationship lololol

in middle school he got into anime, which was COMPLETELY normal! he actually made a ton of friends that way!!

at least until one of his friends came over and saw his body pillow collection

yikes :/

unfortunately didn’t take long at all for the whole school to find out, and then they never let it go

all the way up until he graduated high school :(((

it’s okay tho!

he had tons of online friends from going to conventions and stuff!!

but making irl friends was definitely hard for him when he got to college

[choi beomgyu]-

01’ liner//sophomore

absolute MENACE to your little society

he’s the guy who gets whoever is in his company to unironically admit “last night was a movie”

music major studying composition while playing guitar in a band

the girlies are FAWNING

ppl are so in love with him because he’s so pretty

but then the kid opens his mouth :/

he was the most extroverted kid

which worked perfectly bc with his good looks and personality, everyone wanted to be his friend!! :D

but with high school, friends, and all his 100 extracurriculars

kid burned out by senior year :(

his last year of school, he totally ghosted his friends and stayed inside all day playing video games

(he actually got diamond 1 on LoL, boy is nothing if not determined)

eventually rumors went around that he got dropped and turned into a social outcast

but he didn’t really care since he was fine with rotting away the rest of the school year

by the time he got to college, he wanted nothing to do with things that would suck his already nonexistent energy

[kang taehyun]-

02’ liner//freshman

the one that always has the braincell

and really wishes he didn’t so he could escape yall

stem major for engineering, which is just another one of his controversial choices (being second only to befriending yall)

everyone on campus knows him as that one guy you go to when you need the answers to your homework or your final

yeah, he’s selling the test answers on the black market :P

what? he’s in DEBT

he never gets suspected tho bc he alrdy knows all the answers, so why would he be involved with that??

but the rest of the town?

well, the town knows him as terry

mans is always seen at the gym and the club pulling without even trying

this is TOTALLY contrasting to his high school life, where he literally only gave his time of day to his studies

mans did not have TIME to hang out with anybody

bc of this, he became a bit of an easy target to the one-dimensional jocks that tried to use him to get them better grades :(

he was a small kid, so he got picked on and tossed around a lot :(((

it’s okay, since he’s buffer than them now!! >:)

[huening kai]-

‘02 liner//freshman

maknae that’s more mature than ALL OF YOU

he acts like he isn’t, but kid grew up a MIDDLE CHILD between TWO SISTERS

they’d managed to craft the most perfect and thoughtful angel to grace south korea

except for his demonic laugh :/

but YOU GUYS LOVE IT!!

he’s coasting through college, wishing he could tell you what major he was

but boy is constantly changing it LMAO

he just loves learning about different subjects!!

not to mention he’s good at most things he tries

so he makes tons of friends!!

but he didn’t always :(

from middle to high school, he was THE band kid

he could play the guitar, percussion, trombone, and piccolo!!

so when little kai walked home in his minecraft hoodie carrying his giant instrument case

8/10 times kid would get pelted by eggs or something on the way home

good thing he had his trombone case to shield him!! :D

kai would also be insanely awkward and didn’t have good icebreakers besides his plushie collection

too bad that didn’t become socially acceptable for another few years

[y/l/n y/n]-

‘01 liner//sophomore

ladies and gentlemen i give you

her

the group's resident photographer, despite the fact that you're SO HOT

you are beauty

you are grace

well, you are now

high school: not so much

you were LOSER #1 girlie ://

you were just a little slow to pick up on a lot of social cues and what was "cool" or not, making you prone to awkward situations and bullying

for example: pinky promises and saying “on god” was quirky and acceptable, but spit shakes were not

neither were bowl cuts

or pretending to drown at the school pool and see how everyone would react

like i said, you were behind on a lot

but what took you the longest to learn—the people you thought were your friends were no longer laughing with you and your unfortunately timed puns, but at you (and your unfortunately timed puns) :(((

but you digress, because your overactive imagination worked to your advantage of getting clout and a full ride scholarship!!

you’re an art major with a minor in photography, winning a national photography contest that got the attention of your college

your genius piece of "different kinds of falls in public", where you purposefully tripped people walking by you and taking photos of them, had won the heart of the public and the school board over to the point of them begging to have you!

your parents and teachers just wished you had the same genius outside of cameras--as you slacked off in every other academic aspect

notes: enjoy me being unfunny but having a blast anyway! feel free to send in asks/requests regarding this fic. can't guarantee i'll respond to it, but i'd love to see what you guys think/want!

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kroosluvr · 9 days

Text

someone on twt asked for royal trio tennis playing styles so i will think out loud for several paragraphs under the cut:

PLAYSTYLE

GORO AKECHI. the son of masayoshi shido, one of the best players of all time, so he has big shoes to fill. however he didn't learn from shido himself and was instead passed around various intl academies before settling in at shujin tennis academy. as a lefty he uses it to his advantage: his spin serve is killer and he's a menace with backhand slices and drop shots. he's not one to rush the net and only cleans up with volleys if his opponent is basically off the court already. though not PATIENT by any means, he's very very consistent and i think he seeks to wear you down quickly at the beginning of the match: you get the feeling that "oh shit this guy's an absolute wall, i can't counter this, it's hopeless" so that he can rake in the games from there. i think you have to go into a match with REALLY high confidence otherwise he'll break you pretty fast he also does passive aggressive mind games i.e. instead of passing u the ball to serve he hits em to the corner so u have to go fetch them. doing quick water breaks or none at all if he's winning so you're forced to rush. asking "are you sure?" on linecalls where it was DEFINITELY out just to make you second-guess yourself. he doesn't cheat, though, obviously,that's leagues beneath him, but he'll do little things to break your concentration in a match so there's already a high bar to vault over if u even want a CHANCE at beating goro akechi, but if you get on his nerves somehow then you can crack him from there. someone like akira's unpredictability and flippantness on the court without much sense of planning probably gets under his skin really quick

AKIRA KURUSU. wildcard....... he played a lot of sports growing up, baseball, soccer, track, basketball, u name it basically, but picked up tennis at around age 13 and Somehow was extremely good at it, and immediately scouted and currently training at shujin tennis academy. his athletic and naturally competitive nature means he's naturally really attuned to the nature of Competitive Sport: aka, if he's down, no big deal he'll just fight like hell to get back up. one of the things in tennis is that u can spiral real easily: losing a few points can turn into losing a few games then the match, however, that doesn't phase akira which is his biggest strength. he's really good at Wiping The Slate Clean and starting from scratch if he's down. he's really good at swapping strategies: he can be the moonballer, he can be the 25-ball-rallier, he can be the serve-and-volley menace. etc. and he can do this on the fly without any reluctance. the biggest thing apart from goro and sumi is that he's having FUN. he loves being on the court no matter what, the competition part is secondhand. meanwhile goro and sumi are really really wrapped up in their issues with tennis so the kinda Mind emptiness akira has puts him a step ahead (which they're envious of slash HOW DOES HE DO IT? slash working towards it) SO YEAH hes highly adaptable and fluid in his game style. though, ofc, he tends towards Flashier stuff (which can easily surprise his opponents) so i'd say he's a big fan of cross-cross-down-the-line and such patterns. deep rallies then sudden drop shot and while ur scrambling he beats u to the net. stuff like that. second serve on the first serve. etc. another thing is that his parents are pretty absent (different than the way goro is) i.e. they just dgaf about him entirely, no matter what he does, even if hes good at tennis. (while w goro at least shido would acknowledge him since shido is so far in the limelight). so i think this adds to his adaptability - he doesn't feel constrained the same way goro and sumi do, by their family relationships akira's also one to chat up his opponent mid match LMAO he's not even trying to distract them or play them like that but he's just a friendly happy go lucky guy in the end his thinking is "i hate to lose" so he just keeps playing and keeps winning. it's simple like that

SUMIRE YOSHIZAWA. younger sister of kasumi, she started rhythmic gymnastics w her at a baby age but even from a young age she could tell kasumi was going to outshine her. because of her own timidness holding her back, her own reverence of her sister, she could tell she'd never truly have the willpower/confidence/steadfastness to reach out and be Better than kasumi. because what she really wants is to imprint her name on the world - she doesn't want to be yknow. "kasumi and sumire" she wants to stand on her own, something she doesn't feel she can do if she keeps on with gymnastics. SO SHE SWITCHES TRACKS TO TENNIS another independent sort of sport where you're also scrutinized in the limelight and etc. it'd be difficult to learn this late in the game (age 11ish maybe.) but she's steeled herself and shes determined and READY. it was a biiig decision for her but her parents+kasumi were basically like ok <3 yay<3 and she doesnt reveal how insecure she was about all of that and living in kasumi's shadow and etc. she only confides in akira abt this later down the line (and then goro) her game is really like yknow textbook GOOD like all her shots are impeccable and perfect and really technically perfect. super impressive all around. i dont think she has any specific shots/plays that make her stand out, but her game speaks for itself already in how consistent she is and how steadfast she seems on the court (though inside she's lowk nervous) i think her game might be "predictable" just because of how pristine and mechanically she learned it, but the thing is her form and aim is just so flawless that even if you do know whats coming next you cant counter it all the time actually if anything i think she'd have a killer fast first serve. like CRAZY powerful i think she's not naturally "good" at tennis the way akira and goro are so she works 10x as hard to remedy it. more than just the physical/technical component, getting her mental right is the hard and most important part. when she gets deep into a match sometimes her brain gets the better of her, so in longlong matches she oftentimes loses so that's the current thing she's working on.

PUBLICITY

as with pro tennis comes PUBLICITY and BRAND DEALS and INTERVIEWS and MODELING and ETC

goro dgaf about that but if he's more Famous then he'd be more shoved into shido's face so he goes along with sponsorships and interviews and magazine covers even tho he lowkey hates it.

He doesn't do the detective prince thing here bc he doesn't need to be. he's outwardly bitter and pissed off and snappy the way we know him

akira and sumi are his biggest fans tho always collecting his brand deals and magazines and stuff. they also help tutor him in english so he can do interviews better LMAOO though he's really eyeroll about it

akira and sumi both are good with the publicicty aspect as opposed to goro. sumi, striving to become an intl star, expects it and trains herself for it in spite of her social anxieties. akira, well, is akira and is totally made for the limelight

this causes some sort of internal distress? in goro. he can't quite place it but he feels strange standing alongside them..... something like that. like, of course he wants to take the tennis world by storm, but in the way that he can rub it in shidos face. not really this... aspect? he's not sure what to do with this.

OTHER NOTES

sumi and goro are both highly superstitious and have a solid routine that they ALWAYS adhere to. i.e. goro always practices vs the ball machine the night before. sumi always rewatches rio iwasaki's killer 2016 matchpoint before matches. sumi never wears tennis shoes anywhere other than the court. goro never drinks other gatorade colors besides yellow.

meanwhile u could call akira up 3 mins before and be like hey matchtime and he'd be like ok<3 yay<3

sumi and goro also both analyze their opponents before matches i.e. looking up their ranking and stats and extrapolating stuff frm there while akira is like "oh narukami? from uhhhh. gekkoukan? no. yasogami? ohhh haha thats fun i dont think i played him before :3"

to me at least sumi doesn't come off as naturally competitive the way akira and goro are, inherently: i think she wants to be GOOD, and maybe (in this au) she wants to be Better than kasumi, to gain recognition, to stand on her own two feet: etc. but maybe she doesnt have the inherent Means to get there so that's a lot of what she gains from being friends with akira and goro, to get insight into their mindsets

akira and goro are doubles partners (for better or for worse) (it works great some days and horribly the next. you never know) they dont Seriously compete in doubles though, theyre both singles players to the end.

akira and goro switch off being sumi's mixed doubles partners. she doesn't really play doubles at all i think

sumi is the one who watches pro tennis the most. goro and akira don't really keep up

they all go to shujin academy but kinda half-homeschooled bc as pro players they dont have time for full-time school. theyre also traveling a lot so yeah

goro ties his hair in a low ponytail on the court, sometimes pins his bangs back. akira's hair is too short to tie back, i imagine he pins it back or wears a headband a la rafael nadal

sumi wears a visor! and contacts. akira wears contacts too but sometimes he wears glasses when hes silly goofy

mishima is a sports reporter LMAOOO well theyre all highschool age here so he's a Wannabe sports reporter.

it's also common knowledge that goro is shido's son btw. and goro's mom is dead also. i think only akira and sumi know abt like. his hatred and resentment towards his dad tho

ALSO they all idolize rio iwasaki bc i said so. shes prob like the coolest tennis player of the decade and also woah shes from gekkoukan thats cRAZYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!! hamuko is her wife too. tennis coach ham:3 or smth

i think akira's story is then catalyzed later down the line by an injury - that he can heal from, but it forces him to seriously look at tennis and say for certain "ok this is my dream and this is something i want to devote my life to" the way sumi and goro are already devoted to

#cele talks #persona tennis au #royal trio #cele writes #<- only bc its a long post

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grison-in-space · 10 months

Text

Disability has numerous implications. One can live a long while recognizing only some of them. In the 1950s my parents couldn’t imagine a future for me if I presented as blind. They forcefully encouraged me to do absolutely everything sighted children did, minus any acknowledgment of my difference. In the spring of 1961 my mother signed me up for the Durham, New Hampshire, Cub Scout troop and bought me a uniform and a flag. I marched in the Memorial Day parade, stepping in time to Boy Scout drummers. I held that flag straight before me and walked in a gorgeous gold mist, which was how my brand of blindness transmitted the world. I was legally blind. I saw colors and shapes. “Who am I?” should always be answered by acknowledging physical life as much as say, knowing one’s ancestry. But in 1961 a Boy Scout parade wasn’t the place to learn about disability dignity and pedigree. The scouts’ handbook didn’t have a chapter about successful blind people. I found it was best to not think about blunted sight—that’s how it was. And I had help with my repression. None of the grown-ups in my life admitted disability. They’d come of age in the 1940s watching newsreels. In a famous (or infamous) short produced by the March of Dimes called The Crippler unsuspecting children were abducted by polio, who lurked as a menacing shadow—infantile paralysis was a molester at the playground’s edge. My parents thought disabled kids were victims of a nearly unimaginable fate, a predatory darkness. Against this tragedy stood only human will.

Steven Kuusisto, Have Dog Will Travel (2018).

Emphasis mine. The parallels to many disabled experiences, particularly for people who are born disabled, are crystal clear--even though blindness is one of those disabilities that many of us tend to think of as an agreed-upon "real" disability that is quickly identified and accommodated today.

(Hell, Kuusisto is a glasses user, and glasses are one of the few pieces of visible accommodation he is allowed as a child--and still he is explicitly trained to be ashamed of his lack of vision and to hide it from anyone finding out. That's something of a complication for the contention that, say, myopia is not a disability because our social environment proactively accepts and provides the expectation of accommodation for myopic people. It's unclear exactly what the nature of Kuusisto's vision problems are, but contextually extreme myopia is certainly an aspect of the issue.)

#have dog will travel #kuusisto

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lets-try-some-writing · 1 year

Note

Rlly need some feral Bumblebee

So do I anon, so do I.

Stress Induced Regression

All sparklings emerge from the well practically feral, its a defense mechanism that keeps them safe from predators for the first few months, if not years, of their lives. But this fades with time as they bond to a Caretaker and grow in body, mind, and spark. The coding remains dormant within a bot, only ever meant to activate in times or extreme stress or hunger if it reactivates at all. Bumblebee was no exception to this.

He was picked up by Optimus when he was only a few weeks old and was an absolute menace until he grew. But with time his coding went dormant as it does with all sparklings and he went on living. However what he did not know what that his bond to Optimus made his dormant sparkling survival coding a bit... off. Normally sparkling coding simply makes a bot more cautious and highly irritable when active in an adult. At worst it will leave the bot in question disoriented, possibly unable to tell friend apart from foe and extra clingy with their relatives. But Optimus lived and breathed the wilds for a good chunk of his functioning, it changed his code fundamentally, and part of that passed onto Bumblebee through their bond. It was nothing too big, not at all like the practically unrecognizable coding that made up Optimus's survival instincts. But some small things were changed and minor physical features shifted to accommodate.

Bumblebee, much like his Sire, had sharper denta than others and digits that were just a little too long and a little too pointed. His limbs were a little too gangly and his optics a little too predatory, but this all flew under the radar when his bulky armor and cheerful personality came into play. He looked and acted like a completely normal bot, going into all sorts of life threatening situations without even a hint of survival/sparkling code activation.... that is until the destruction of the base and Optimus's subsequent brush with death.

Without his Sire's all encompassing presence and the calm that the Matrix naturally exuded, Bumblebee's long dormant codes began to activate. He had never needed them before because Optimus was always there, always protecting him if not physically, then mentally. Anywhere could be home if he had his Sire, any situation could be survivable with his Sire, and every pain could be soothed just so long as Bumblebee knew that Optimus was there for him. But without his father near and his bond to him fading rapidly, nothing could stop Bumblebee's codes from activating in an attempt to save his life in response to the sudden stress.

His spark cried out with a desire for vengeance, temporarily overriding Bumblebee's survival coding as he and the remnants of the team attacked Darkmount. His rage overcame his instinctual desire to live and he fought like an animal, blasters blazing with wild abandon and blades cutting through enemies with a viciousness never before seen in the scout. If he still had his voice he would have been roaring as he tore through Vehicon after Vehicon, their energon bathing him in a terrifying blue hue. Arcee had to physically drag him to the ground to stop the Vehicons from killing him when they were forced to surrender.

But when his bond to Optimus snapped temporarily as the Prime's spark faded from his frame, he went berserk. Not even Arcee could stop him as he flew into a rage, tearing apart his foes with his dull claws and his sharpened denta once his battlemask was retracted. He was too quick for Shockwave to target as he savagely shredded his enemies, no longer able to tell friend from foe as his coding overwhelmed his logical processing functions. He was so far lost in his maddened rage that he did not notice when Optimus came and destroyed Darkmount in his new frame. All he cared about was getting rid of the threats and retreating to somewhere safe. When Arcee tried to calm him he very nearly turned on her as well, only refusing to attack her due to the explosion that came from Darkmount's destruction.

And as Darkmount burned and the battle between Optimus and Megatron raged, Bumblebee fled. His plating shifted slightly to grant him the stride that he had previously been denied due to his armor structure. Small and normally hidden finals emerged from beneath his helm plating, allowing him to sense things around him more clearly. And his optics cycled terrifyingly small as he focused himself on his one and only goal, find safety. It did not even occur to him to transform, and having not had the sparklinghood Optimus did in the wilds, he was easy to track. It did not take long for the team to pick up on his trail and begin tailing him.

When they found him he was huddled up in a small cave, far too small for anyone but Arcee to get into. It was a wonder Bumblebee managed to cram himself in, but considering the paint transfers all over the rock surrounding the entrance, he did not get in without difficultly. As small whimpers and growls echoed from within the cave, Optimus in spite of his new height, knelt down and slowly began to coax Bumblebee out. He softly hummed just loud enough for Bumblebee to hear, gently letting the scout know that he meant no harm. He continued doing this, slowly edging closer to the cave entrance every few minutes for over an hour. Eventually he sent the team away, ordering them to begin dealing with the fallout while he worked with his son.

They complied, leaving Optimus to slowly continue his delicate work. Once close enough the Prime began to sing softly, not too loud or too slow, carefully uttering each lyric of the lullaby he sang to Bumblebee when he was small. And slowly but surely, the growls ceased and the flicker of blue optics came into view before disappearing again. Hours passed, but Optimus was patient, never ceasing his song and never so much as daring to twitch without warning. And finally, long into the night, Bumblebee fearfully began to crawl out of his hiding space, his injuries gained during his desperate fight for survival coming into view as he did so. And while the sight of his many injuries was concerning, Optimus did not let it show, keeping up his strong persona to give his frightened sparkling peace of mind.

As the sun began to rise, Bumblebee finally felt comfortable enough to limp his way toward Optimus, nervously examining him and calling out weakly with his damaged voice. Optimus responded softly over and over again, reassuring his sparkling that he lived, that he was there to protect him. It did not take long afterward for Bumblebee to collapse against him, his frame rumbling happily as he hung on for dear life, safe in the arms of his Sire.

Even after the initial mania wore off around a day later, Bumblebee was still incredibly clingy, not wanting to let Optimus out of his site for even a moment in fear that he might leave. No matter how much the team (especially Ratchet) wanted to have their chance to bond with Optimus again, reaffirming to themselves that he lived, none would dare tear his sparkling away from him. They waited and watched in mixed joy and sorrow as Bumblebee held onto Optimus wherever he went for nearly a week, communicating entirely through body language and EM fields the whole time. And even once things settled and all became calm again, Bumblebee still checked in with Optimus frequently, just to remind himself that he was still there.

#maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #tfp optimus #bumblebee #father son bonding #fluff #slight angst #team prime #feral bumblebee #imma expand on the whole bee being feral thing #i love it too much to leave it alone

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mychlapci · 4 months

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starbee but everyone assumes that bumblebee is the sweet bottom who lets the big bad seeker do whatever he wants but it's the fucking opposite

starscream gets his pussy fucking destroyed by bee. tiny fucking car with a libido higher than the empire state building. he's hung too so starscream can't even make fun of him for having a small dick. bee's a menace with his teeth too, starscream's wings have big ole bites taken outta em

-burnt ice anon

YEAAAH. Bumblebee absolutely dominating Starscream is my #1 fantasy right now. Starscream is a hundred percent the cocky type, who’ll yap on and on about how hard Bee’s gonna have to work to really satisfy him in bed, that he hopes Bee will be able to keep up- after all, such a small car, trying to take on a big, high-speed jet? It’s a big challenge.

Not for Bumblebee, of course. Whatever Starscream convinced himself of flies out the window when Bee opens up his panels and there’s a fat spike sliding into his valve, grinding into his internal nodes with pin-point precision. Bee just smirks at him, ‘cause he’s seen that kind of face Starscream’s making before, and knows that he’s got him exactly where he wants him.

Starscream mewling and screaming as he’s pounded into, his legs held spread open so he can’t even wrap them around Bumblebee's waist and set his own pace… he immediately gets Starscream’s pussy addicted to his spike, by sheer accident. Now, if you have Screamer limping around, you can rest assured Bee fucked him so hard he’s still a little dizzy.

and Bumblebee being a little biter… grghhh, it’s always the tiny ones, isn’t it. You’d think a decepticon would bite harder than a little autobot scout, but oh lord. Starscream’s let go of that assumption a long time ago.

#valveplug #the sex haver bumblebee saga continues

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dopscratch · 10 months

Text

introducing: the Scoutbros

i'm feeling creative, so i'm gonna introduce you all to my headcanons for scout's family, including the basically-ocs that i've designated as his brothers! you're welcome to use them anywhere if you happen to actually like them, with a couple rules

credit me please this is the one scrap of originality i have

if you make any tweaks, headcanons or changes, please do not parade them as fact!

SHOW ME, LINK IT TO ME, GIVE ME WHATEVER CONTENT YOU MAY MAKE WITH THEM I LOVE THE SCOUTBROS

obviously these rules only apply to the oc-ones and not the canon characters (except rule 3, give me your tf2 content...)

all images are from that one scene in my Runs in the Family animatic you know the one- and represent fairly young versions of all of them! i think i designed scout to be like 10 there.

anyway, without further ado, my headcanons/ocs:

Starting with Scout's mother, I've headcanoned she really likes J names. Her name is Jolene and Spy's name, whatever it is, probably starts with a J too. Most of her kids come from different fathers, hence their varied appearances. Also her last name is Fitzgerald for the memes. That's pretty much all I have here

Scout himself also remains pretty much unchanged. His childhood nickname was Germ because Jeremy and also he's a little pathogen the kid is obnoxious :)

Josh is 1 year older than Scout and is the resident daredevil. He’s a thrill seeker and holds the record for the most broken bones in the family, both at once and total. Scout may have broken this record during his time as a merc, but since he’s not really supposed to talk about it (and it’d be nearly impossible to keep track of on the battlefield with Medic healing) Josh remains on top. He has darker/deeper brown eyes and hair.

Jay is 2 years older than Scout and a hyper tech nerd who finds it difficult to focus on most things for more than one minute. He loves pranks, often pulling them on his brothers and anyone unlucky enough to be close by. He’s 100% a memelord (Saxton invented the internet early it could happen!!). He’s a blue-eyed redhead.

Jason is 5 years older than Scout. He’s twins with Jake (coming next!). He’s also a criminal. To be fair, he’s not really more of a criminal than his other brothers, he just continued being a bit of a menace into adulthood and is terrible at covering his tracks, resulting in him landing in jail more often than not. If someone in the family is going to get caught for a crime, it’ll most likely be him. He also occasionally takes the fall for his other brothers, be it voluntarily or not. He’s absolutely awful at planning but can often think on his feet well enough in a crisis. He has paler brown eyes and black hair.

Jake is Jason’s twin (so also 5 years older than Scout). He’s a nicer guy, polite, but an adept fighter. He tends to keep a cool head and can get out of a lot of bad situations, the opposite of his twin (he is the younger twin which he used to be a little self-conscious about). He’s also Bidwell. He legally changed his name because the scoutfam is a little notorious what with the many many troublemakers that come from it. I think this is the perfect origin story for him because there’s no way Saxton Hale would hire an assistant without assessing their combat ability.

Jessie is Jack’s (coming next!) right-hand man, 7 years older than Scout. Scoutmom Jolene forgot the masculine way to spell it was ‘Jesse’ so now this tall, buff, intimidating man has to live with a name that many would point and laugh and call a girl’s name (not that ‘Jesse’ would be any better in the spoken word). Though it was a bit of an embarrassment in early childhood, mostly going by his initials, he’s moved past it, growing confident and comfortable with his name. He’s generally stoic and hard to rattle, though he has a more chaotic side and likes helping out with Jay’s pranks. Though he’s slower to anger, he holds a long, lifetime grudge. He has darker brown eyes and black hair.

Jack is 9 years older than Scout and the ruthless leader type. He specializes in organized crime, but in a kind of wholesome way. He’s very protective of anything he’s deemed his territory and will keep his little circle safe. Family comes before anything for him (absent fathers don’t count in his books). He targets overeager gangs, corrupt officials, big businesses challenging smaller local ones, and other threats to his community in various less-than-legal ways. He has blue eyes and black hair.

James is the oldest son, 12 years older than Scout. He filled in as a sort of father figure to the family as it grew and was the leader of the scoutbros’ chaotic outings until adulthood, when he eventually decided to pursue a stable, normal job. Still, he sticks around and occasionally accompanies the group for old time’s sake. He’s generally the most responsible, followed by Jake and Jessie. He has brown eyes and a light brownish hair, a similar shade to Scout’s.

and that’s all of em! hope you enjoyed this wild ride through my brain. i think the tag is free so #scoutbros will from now on be referring to my particular band of silly dudes unless anyone has any objections!

also, feel free to ask me any questions!

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #team fortress 2 headcanons #scout tf2 #scoutbros #scoutfamily #scoutfam #scoutmom #tf2 bidwell #scoutma #rancid ramble #lore landfill #trashmann treasure #tf2 ocs #character containment

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animatorweirdo · 6 months

Text

Of the blood and snow

It was usually misty that day, a day when everything was supposed to be under control and be a typical day for you to burn out the beast's hunting desires when the medicine failed. However, misfortune fell upon you when the cousin of your lover with her son escaped through the woods, where you lingered.

(A little idea from my head I didn't write till now. I went for a horror theme, so read at your own discretion. And no actual horses were harmed doing this. Hope you enjoy. Extra scene at the end.)

Warnings: horror-themed, violence, mentions of running away, not-so-great marriage, falling, blood, limbs getting severed, bones, Eol is not very lucky in this one. Shit writing? I wrote this in a sudden drive to write but had no more fuel to edit except for the mistakes.

---------------------------------

Aredhel was riding through the forest, Maeglin safely tucked under the warmth of her cloak. The young elfling shivering from the coldness of the forest around them. Aredhel was not certain if she had made the right decision to go for Himring instead of Gondolin. It had been years since she had seen any of her cousins, but knowing Eol was on her trail, blocking her way to Gondolin. She was sure she would be safe among the people he most hated. Her brother would have disapproved of her decision to go for their kinslayer cousins, but for the safety of her son, she didn't give a damn.

However, something was amiss in the woods around her. It was unusually quiet, and her horse had been acting up since she arrived in the forest—whining and hesitating to move further as if trying to escape from something.

The feeling of being stalked by something more menacing than her ill-tempered husband only added to her unease.

"Naneth?" the young elfling looked up to her as the horse beneath them whined and stopped, refusing to go any farther. "Everything's okay, Lomion. We're almost there," Aredhel reassured him as she attempted to urge her steed onward. In frustration, she kicked her heels harder, startling the creature, causing it to rear up and scream, throwing them both off its back.

Aredhel held onto Maeglin as she painfully fell on her back. The little elfling shrieked from fright, and they then watched as the horse ran away.

Aredhel resisted cursing out loud as she stood up with Maeglin. "Are you hurt?" she quickly checked on him. He shook his head. Aredhel's heart raced when her ears suddenly picked up footsteps from a distance. They were light and barely hearable, but she had known her husband enough to pick up the sounds he made. He was nearby.

"We need to run," she said.

"Why?" Maeglin questioned.

"Just run! We're nearly there!" she started running, pulling him along.

The two hurried through the woods, Maeglin barely managing to hold onto her hand as she quickened her steps, trying to find the path leading to Himring.

In the distance, she could hear the quickening steps of her husband. She prayed for the first time in years that her runaway horse would distract him long enough for them to escape. She absolutely refused to go back and live a life trapped in a forest with no light or the freedom to ride the plains as she once did. She absolutely would not go back.

She was then startled by the sight of a human woman and another elf, who she quickly recognized.

"Makalaure!" Aredhel exclaimed in relief.

"Irime?" Maglor looked at her with shock and confusion. He was not expecting to see his cousin as he was scouting the forest with Camilla.

"Quick! You need to help us!" Aredhel uttered as she approached them.

"What? Where have you been? We heard a word that you had gone missing?" Maglor questioned.

"There's no time! He's after us, and things will not end well if he catches us!" Aredhel looked at him with pleading eyes. Maglor stared back in bewilderment. He had never seen his outgoing and confident cousin filled with so much fear.

A scream suddenly echoed throughout the forest. Maeglin gasped and held onto his mother's hand in fear. Aredhel paled from the sounds of what seemed to be her horse being attacked by some kind of a beast. It all then fell silent.

Camilla broke the silence, "Let's go,"

"Whoever is after you will no longer bother you as long as we leave now," she said as she walked past the elves. "What?" Aredhel stared at the human maiden in confusion.

"She's right. Let's go," Maglor said, ready to guide her out of the forest. Despite the confusion, Aredhel let the suspicions reside in the back of her mind and followed after the human maiden and her cousin as they led her and her son safely to Himring.

Eol stopped on his trail. He had lost the tracks of his traitor of a wife and son. Fury laced within him. He could understand the restlessness to see own's kin of that unmannered she-elf, but taking his son to live among the murderers of his kin was unacceptable. His wife he could set free if living with him was so terrible, but there was no way he would allow his blood to be raised among them.

His thoughts were disturbed when his ears heard the screams of the horse his wife used to escape on. The whines of the creature were filled with pain and fear and were then silenced by what sounded like maws ripping down on flesh.

Eol was frozen on his spot. He had never heard such sounds before, and for a moment, he felt a sense of concern and fear for the safety of his wife and son.

When he couldn't hear anything, he ventured deeper to track down the noises. His instincts were telling him to leave the forest as quickly as possible, but his pride wouldn't allow him, not until he caught on to his wife and son.

Eol arrived at a clearing. His eyes saw something moving and hiding behind large rocks. He noticed the hooves of the horse lying on the ground, and when he saw the top of a fur that looked similar to the fur of his wife's coat peaking above the rocks, he was filled with anger, forgetting the fear he felt moments ago.

He now assumed the horse had simply fallen and injured itself.

"I found you, Aredhel!" Eol called out, but his wife didn't respond.

"I'm done with these games of yours! Come out so we can leave!" he said, but she played like she didn't hear him.

Anger dwelled up in him. He gripped the javelin in his hands.

"I said... Come out now!" he yelled as he threw the javelin over the rocks, where his wife and son were hiding. He only intended to scare them out of there, but what he saw next was not his wife or son.

His weapon graced the fur, spilling blood on its way, which he did not expect to happen. He was certain he threw it high enough to avoid causing injuries.

A large creature suddenly revealed itself, roaring from the wound on its back. Eol paled at the sight as the creature's head reminded him of the skull of a deer, and its maws were dressed in blood, which made him realize what really happened to his wife's horse. When the monstrous creature locked its furious, frozen blue eyes on him– he ran.

Eol sprinted as fast as his feet could carry him, unable to spare any thoughts. The creature chased after him, moving at a speed even his ears couldn't discern. He could only perceive the snapping of branches and the rush of wind caused by the beast as he reached the edge of the forest.

He ran out of the tree lines, but before he could even take a step — the beast appeared behind him and swiped down on him with its claws. His body was sent flying to the ground.

Eol choked down in pain as he lay on the snowy ground. His body was in shock, and when he looked down, he found the reason for his shock was his missing legs. Blood was pouring down on the snow, painting it red, while his legs were lying on the ground a few meters away from him.

When Eol heard the creature's heavy steps around him, he pushed himself on his stomach and crawled toward his other javelin, which he still had, and dropped, but before he could even reach out to it. He watched as the creature's large hand grabbed the silver javelin. He watched in horror as the beast laid his weapon between its jaws and snapped it in half with strength not even the most violent of orcs could possess.

The pain of his missing legs finally caught up to Eol as the beast laid its eyes on him. He gave up as the beast then revealed its sharp teeth and devoured him.

Aredhel was seated at a table, Maeglin casually sipping on a soup he had been given to warm up while his mother explained everything that had happened to the lord of Himring. Maedhros was in deep thought after listening to everything she said.

"I see. You do not worry anymore. We shall keep you and your son safe if your husband does dare to enter here," Maedhros said reassuringly.

"Thank you, though. There's something else. Before I found your brother, my horse ran away, and when I did. I heard my steed being attacked by something. Are you aware that there might be a beast hunting around these lands?" Aredhel questioned.

"These lands are infested with orcs, wargs, and other creatures alike. It's been like that since Dagor Bragollach. You were fortunate that neither you nor your son ended up captured by any of them, but if you suspect there might be something else. I promise to send someone to take a look and deal with it if it's a bigger problem," Maedhros explained. Aredhel found contentment in the answer, though a shadow lingered in the back of her mind.

"Now, eat and rest. You had a long journey," Maedhros said as she began helping her son to eat.

Maglor and Camilla, standing at the doorway of the room, exchanged a knowing look, aware of the truth and the possibility that you had already killed Eol. It was by luck that they managed to rescue Aredhel and Maeglin, sparing them from potential harm had they stumbled upon you during your hunting spree.

—Extra scene

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck----" you uttered as you walked into your shared apartment with Camilla, holding onto your hair with horror in your eyes.

"Cami, Maglor! I might have eaten someone who was not an orc," you looked at your friend and lover, who were looking at you.

"And all that remained was a skull and a pile of bones. The beast got a bit too excited," you explained.

"Oh, I think you're forgiven on this one. Nobody liked that elf anyway," Maglor stated.

"What?" you said, confused.

"But, I think we should hide the evidence, so (Name)'s existence won't become too obvious," Camilla spoke to him.

"I guess you are right. Do you have any ideas?" Maglor asked.

"What?" you stared at them.

"We could conceal the bones inside a bear cave, making it seem like he was attacked by a bear," Camilla suggested. "Bears are hibernating at this time of year, but I know a place teeming with wargs. They devour everything until only bones remain. If we hide the bones there, everyone will believe poor Eol was ambushed by a pack of wargs and devoured," Maglor explained his plan. "Sounds good to me," Camilla nodded in agreement.

You stared at them in bewilderment.

"Are you guys seriously gonna cover up the death of an elf I caused?"

"Hello?"

In the end, no one really knew what happened to the dark elf, Eol, or cared enough to try to look for him.

#maglor x reader #maglor #aredhel #maglor imagines #silmarillion #silmarillion x reader #silm fic #silmarillion oneshot #silmarillion imagines #middle earth #middle earth imagines #middle earth x reader #tolkien

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