#I really want to know who sent these photos to print
Text
Dua was just a grey forehead away from whispering "tenth level... thousands of battle droids"
#Star Wars#sw rots#the revenge of the sith#Star Wars prequels#tcw#Sw tcw#clone wars#utapau#obi wan kenobi#dua lipa#I really want to know who sent these photos to print
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
at this point im so mentally worn out that it genuinely feels like im about to have a minor breakdown in face of the smallest possible inconvenience
i've been so consistently feeling so miserable that i feel like my hair being pink is the only thing keeping me within any semblance of sanity
#2 days ago i almost cried bc i really wanted to make a paperdoll for my DIO zine but i hated everything i drew#i spent 3 hours almost finishing one just to realize i fucking hated it#so i decided to drop the entire thing because i physically and mentally just Couldn't Do It Anymore#i'm so exhausted at this point. this project has completely drained me. im so tired im so tired im so tired#i thought to myself like ok so the special edition zine won't have a paperdoll i still have other stuff#i thought the paperdoll was a really fun idea and i felt so fucking upsetting to let it go but y'know there's the other things#....... so today i got the prototype keychains.#which i needed to make promotional photos on monday#so that people who want to order the special edition zine would know exactly what they're buying#and of course: Vograce Printed The Keychains Wrong#the design was supposed to have some see-through layers which were even clearly included on the design proof THEY sent me#but the keychains just... don't have it. there are no see-through layers. they are just normal coloured layers.#so now i have keychain prototypes that don't look as they should and ok sure i CAN technically still do the photos with these#but the keychain won't look as it should and that bothers me#and i dont want to wait anymore bc i really want to open preorders next week#but i'll have to order prototypes AGAIN bc i still really need to see how the actual keychain would look when it's done right#i'm so tired i am so fucking tired i am so exhausted#i am just. fully expecting to see my printer on monday just to be told he hasn't even opened my email and hasn't printed anything#i was waiting all day for a guy to install better internet for me#i was told he will come today at 11:30#at 1PM i call my internet provider to ask them where the fuck he is#they tell me. 'oh did you not get a message that his visit was rescheduled to 21st?'#i did not. i received no such message. i've already been waiting A MONTH for this faster internet. and now i'll be waiting another 10 day#btw these keychains? i was also waiting all day for the postman to call me and let me know he's at my building#so that i could go get the package#bc our postmen decided that actually they don't want to deliver packages anymore YOU have to go out and get them#he did not call me. he had my number btw. he just didn't call me. he just left a note in my mailbox#meaning that i had to go to the post myself like 5 hours later because that's when packages return to the post office#there were like two more vents in the tags but tumblr nerfed me#bitching about all this in the tags made me feel a little better tbh
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
they say that older men do it better, and by god, they fucking do.
as some of you know, i’ve only ever been with one person. never really been one for hookups or anything like that, but i figure i’m young, in the prime of my life… why not fool around? i, after consulting my roommate, downloaded an app for hookups and set my age range up a bit. 30+.
this app allows you to list kinks and sexual preferences, but i really wanted to make sure i left the proper hints about myself around my profile. cute gifs. a question about preferred sexual positions, to which i replied, “mating press, or any position that makes me feel small and helpless.” i made sure to use my cutest photos, showing off my glossy lips and sweet doe eyes, my hair pulled into cute handles pigtails. before long i was scrolling and swiping through the app, lounging in bed as i daydreamed about getting my sweet little cunt pounded by an older man.
i didn’t have the app for more than an hour or two before i got the notification that i had gotten a match. i couldn’t help but kick my feet a bit when i checked to see who it was… he was older, handsome, tall, with really gorgeous long hair. his profile was one of the first ones i had seen; it was funny and made me laugh, and he couldn’t help but lightly boast about his big dick (energy). how could i not like him?
he sent me a message commenting on the position i had mentioned on my profile, saying that it seemed to fit well with breeding kinks. he also asked me if i was a squishmallow fan, and i couldn’t help but giggle.
[🫣 is it that obvious? i used to collect, but not so much anymore.]
[It is, but in a good way! You just had that cute plush kinda look!]
it was then i knew that this man would make me whine and whimper into his mattress. i couldn’t help but curl my toes a bit at the thought. we flirt a bit more, he shows me photos of some of the plushies he owns. i compliment them and say that, “everyone needs something soft and squeezable to get them through their days.”
[You look soft and squeezable js 🥴]
i need to fuck this man.
[i definitely definitely am 🤭 maybe you could find out just how soft and squeezable sometime?]
[I would LOVE that. I could totally also get you a plushie too.]
[oh gosh, i couldn’t accept anything from you 😭 you’re so so sweet though!!]
[Good girls deserve to be rewarded 😌]
….oh GOD!!!!!
he asks me if i’ve eaten, if i’m free tonight. we make plans for him to pick me up and take me to a restaurant right by his place. i give him my number and hop in the shower. if i wasn’t under such a time crunch i would have taken the time to touch my aching, excited little cunt as i cleaned my body, but i had to focus.
picking what to wear on a date is difficult. picking what to wear on a date when you know you’re going to get possibly the best dick you’ve gotten in your life is torture. does this look good? how does this make my chest look? ugh, i hate my arms in this top! my roommate, angel that she is, saved my night and my sanity by lending me the cutest outfit. a tight tile printed dress with spaghetti straps, which i wore a white t-shirt under. she also lent me a pair of platform mary janes for the evening. it had been a minute since i had worn anything so tall, and i couldn’t help but teeter a bit. it made me feel all the cuter though. a cute little bimbo like me, stumbling around in shoes i can hardly walk in so an older man can fuck my sweet little pussy… i shook the thought away as i did my makeup. focus!!!
i gave him my address, and he arrived on time in a really really nice car. he got out to greet me and gave me a sweet hug, and i couldn’t help but notice how he towered over me. my thighs clenched together as i felt myself get wet (or maybe wetter…). we got into the car and on the road. he’s so funny, and so so charming. he puts his hand on my thigh and i swear i nearly passed out. i pushed away thoughts of palming him through his jeans, of taking his cock out and sucking it right there in the car… focus up, girl!!
he was so wonderful. at one point, i’m talking about something that was probably unimportant (as most things i say tend to be), and he grabs my hand and starts pressing gentle, tender kisses to my fingers. i clenched my thighs a bit tighter as i lost my train of thought and trailed off.
we arrive at the restaurant, which is thankfully very close to his place. he parks and comes around to open my door, and we walk hand in hand into the restaurant. his hand is so much bigger than mine… we get seated and order a crème brûlée to share, as we had talked about it on the ride there (it was fantastic btw, incase you’re wondering. you probably aren’t, but it’s my blog damn u and i will talk about whatever i want!!). the place is a bit loud, so we had to lean forward in order to hear each other when we talk. i loved being closer to him like that, and couldn’t help but crave more of it.
we finish the dessert and head to his place. he introduced me to his cats before we settled onto his couch to talk a bit more. at one point he pulls me close and we finally start kissing. i was worried about my kissing skills, but it was so easy to follow his lead, to whimper into his mouth as he bit my lower lip. my hands moved to finally, finally rub him through his pants. oh. oh my god. denim, as you are probably aware, is a constricting material, but even as his cock strained against the fabric i could tell he was big.
we moved to his bedroom after a bit more kissing and rubbing. he moved around me, kissing on my neck, using his mouth’s hot air in ways i never realized were possible. i felt myself become cute little putty in his hands. i wanted to be the best little girl for this man i possibly could be. he did me the favor of removing his impossible belt, and i got onto my knees on the floor as i undid the button and zipper to his pants. i pulled his jeans down and rubbed the tent in his boxers for a moment before finally sliding them down. his cock sprang forth, and i swear i felt my jaw drop. oh dear sweet whatever you are in the sky, thank you. thank you so fucking much. he was huge. i had never seen anything that big in person before, and if i’m being honest, i was a little intimidated. i felt confident in my blowjob skills, but my last partner was considerably smaller. c’mon. be a big girl. you can do it.
i take his cock in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it as i do my best to take him deep down my throat. the noises he made, oh god… i swear i still hear them in my head randomly when i’m doing things around the house. i gagged a bit and pulled back, spitting out a bit of drool on his cock and using it as lube to jerk him off with while i caught my breath for a moment. “good girl,” he purred. i went right back to work, desperate and aching to hear more of his praise. i loved running my tongue over a certain spot on the underside of his cock; watching his eyes screw shut every time just got me wetter and wetter.
i could have sucked his cock for hours if he let me, but he pulled me off and held me in his arms so he could kiss me more as he helped me slide my clothes off. i’ll never forget his quiet, “oh, god,” as he finally saw my tits. he got my bra off and sucked on my sensitive nipples, flicking his tongue over the nub as i whined.
he had me lay on the bed and moved between my thighs. he pressed soft, tender kisses to my thighs that made my hips shift and buck in a desperate plea for him to please touch my pussy oh god please please please. finally, finally, he licks my cunt with a deft, practiced motion that could only come from experience an older man has. he fully devours me. the things this man could do with his mouth were downright sinful… i’ve never cum from oral before, but that night, after he slipped his fingers inside me, i couldn’t help but gush.
he moved to grab a condom, slipping it on before positioning himself on top of me. i felt my body tremble slightly at the prospect of taking something so large in my tight little cunt, but he was so sweet, so hot, that i knew i was wet enough. he ran the tip of his cock over my aching slit as i whimpered. slowly, ever so slowly, he slid into me. i find myself quivering just writing about it. i’m sure i was trembling under him, but after he bottomed out inside me my memory gets all fuzzy and it’s difficult to remember a whole lot.
i remember feeling so full, so fucking full as i moaned and cried out for him. i remember cumming over and over and over again on his huge cock. i remember sucking on his fingers as he pounded into me in an effort to keep me quiet (which like, half worked). i remember him caging his arms around me, growling in my ear as i begged him to cum, to breed me, to breed his little girl. we both came at the exact same time, moaning as our bodies melted together.
we catch our breath, clean up. he helps me find my discarded clothes in the pile that accumulated on his floor. i text my roommate and try to hide my smile.
[IM ALIVE]
[AND CAME]
[SO MUCH]
[SO MUCH TO TELL U]
[AHHHH YES BITCH]
he drives me home as we chat more, both still a bit breathless and awash with endorphins. once we arrive at my place, he opens my door once more and we kiss one final time before we say goodnight. i wish him a safe trip home as i limp to the door and let myself in. you know that thing that happens in movies, where the girl has a really good date, and she leans against the door after he leaves? i always thought that was silly, but… i just couldn’t help it.
the next day i’m out picking up dinner with a friend. we text a bit.
[Not at ALL complaining just still surprised at how dirty you are haha]
[you truly don’t know the half of it 🫣🤭💖]
[Tell me!]
[it might be better if i just, like, showed youuu?]
and then i sent him a link to this blog. and i felt like my heart was gonna sink into my stomach. i’m into some harder things, i didn’t wanna scare him off… my phone buzzed.
[I love this]
[thank GOD!! i was terrified you’d like, run for the hills or something 😭💕]
[I’m only disappointed about one thing…]
[hm?]
[You need to write about how good you got fucked last night]
when i tell you that my body essentially did a full factory reset…
[😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫]
[yes daddy]
[Good girl]
[Tell me when you post it]
he was hot. he was funny. he was dominant. he could make me cum so much my brain leaked out of my ears. and now he was giving me assignments. like a daddy should.
so now here i am, finishing up probably the longest piece of writing i’ve done in a long time. and there you are, reading it. hi. hope you had a good time.
i hope to see you again soon. 💖
#jess.txt#i’m so so sooo nervous abt posting this and sending it to him BUT here goes fuckin’ nothing!!!! wahoooooooo!!!!#cnc k!nk#cnc free use#fauxcest#fauxc3st#1cky daddy#1cky princess#1cky thoughts
887 notes
·
View notes
Text
you gonna let me be good to you?
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: your little slip up forces you and frank to come to terms with your feelings for one another.
warnings: cursing, fluffy frank, mentions of blood (its frank babes), explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 9.7k
a/n: this one goes out to all my frankie lovers <3 I promised this a long time ago and i've literally been working on it for weeks but it didn't feel ~right~ until now. i'm a slut for soft frank, and frank in general, so here's 22 pages of just that. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
Frank Castle was not a man who was easily taken by surprise. He was used to having the upper hand, normally several steps ahead of everyone else, but even in a tight unexpected situation he was able to come out on top. There were very few things left in this world that shocked him anymore. After his time in the marines, and the reputation that preceded him as The Punisher, he had seen and done things most people couldn’t fathom in their wildest imaginations.
Yet, here he was, staring down at his phone absolutely and completely dumbfounded. As much as he knew he should, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the picture displayed on the screen. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The longer he stared at it, the more he felt his jeans becoming increasingly too tight. His eyes anxiously flickered between the photo, and the door he knew you were just on the other side of. For the first time in a long time, Frank didn’t know what to do. He was completely in shock..because you had just accidentally sent him a photo of yourself in lingerie.
Frank had stopped by your office and asked if you could send him some photos of a few documents that you had found at the library that contained confidential information related to a “case” he was working on. You opted to take photos instead of printing the documents, not wanting it to be tracked back to you or him. Frank had met you through Karen, you were her best friend, and you graciously helped him out from time to time.
He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. He shouldn’t be staring. He should delete the photo and lie through his teeth saying he never got anything. He didn’t want you to be embarrassed. You two were friends, in a way he supposed. As much as anyone could really be Frank Castle’s friend. As soon as the door to your office swung open, Frank whipped his head up in the direction of your voice.
“Hey, did you get the photos? Sorry, I have terrible signal in here. I wanted to make sure you got them before you took off.”
Frank felt frozen. There was no doubt a light shade of pink coated the tops of his cheeks, which he knew he could easily blame on the heat in the building. But if he didn’t get the hell out of there fast, there would be little to no ignoring the effect the photo had on him. He could already feel all the blood in his body rushing straight downwards. Frank cleared his throat awkwardly, looking anywhere but at you, turning his phone over in his hands timidly.
“I uh..think you sent me the wrong thing.”
The furrow of confusion in your brows and the adorable pout that formed on your lips made his cock twitch in his jeans. He let his mind wander for a moment as he thought about how pretty those full lips of yours would look wrapped around the head of his cock. He couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling down your body, now that he knew what was hiding underneath. He paid extra attention to how the fabric of your pencil skirt clung to your curvy hips, and the little taste of cleavage he caught from your blouse that dived into a v-shape just above the swell of your breasts. Fuck. Stop it.
“I didn’t send you the photos of documents?”
“No..you uh..sent me somethin’ else. Somethin’ that uh..wasn’t..meant for me.”
Frank should’ve stopped you from checking your phone to see just what he was talking about. He should’ve brushed it off, told you not to worry and to just send the photos when you had a minute, and gotten the hell out of there. But another part of him was curious about your reaction to your mishap. As you unlocked your phone to check your previous messages with Frank, a sharp gasp suddenly left your lips and your hand flew up to cover your mouth. Your doe eyes were blown wide open as you stared down at Frank in panic.
“Oh my god, Frank..I-I’m so sorry. Oh my god, I can’t believe I sent you that. I..I’m so..I’m so sorry.”
“S’alright. Honest mistake. I just uh..knew it wasn't for me. Thought you should..be aware, I guess.”
He had to look away. He couldn’t handle the sight of you biting your lip, even if it was innocent. All it did was fuel the sinful thoughts berating around in his head. Sure, he’d always thought you were pretty, even from the moment you two first met. But he never thought more of it. He never thought about you like that until now. Now that he had seen what your body looked like covered in thin black lace. You weren’t exactly naked in the photo, but it damn sure left nothing to the imagination. It awoke something within Frank he was having difficulty taming.
“It..it wasn’t for anyone really.”
You weren’t sure why you said that. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. You knew why. You wanted him to know those photos weren’t for anyone in particular. That no other man had seen that. Frank’s head cocked to the side at your confession, eager for you to continue but staying quiet.
“I..um..that was for Karen.”
If Frank’s cock wasn’t throbbing before, it definitely was now. His eyes widened in surprise, and you must have been able to read his thoughts at that very moment, because you rolled your eyes playfully and giggled as your full lips split into a playful grin.
“Not..not like that, Castle. We just..got drunk one night and somehow got on the topic of lingerie and..I told her I’d never owned any before and..um..wanted to know what it felt like..to wear it. So, she talked me into buying some. We actually bought the same set, hers is pink. But we didn’t remember any of that. So when it came in, Karen sent me a picture of hers and asked how mine looked so I um..sent her one back.”
Frank was thanking any God that was listening that he had brought a backpack today, and that it was currently conveniently placed over his prominent bulge. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was about what you had just said that was driving him absolutely mad. He couldn’t pinpoint if it was the fact that you had taken a photo like that to send to Karen, or the fact that he was the only person besides Karen that had ever seen that photo. That he was the only man that had seen you all dressed up like that. A sudden wave of possessiveness washed over him, and he knew he had to snap out of it. The room felt like it was shrinking and he could feel sweat starting to form along his hairline. He had to get the fuck out of that office. Away from you.
“Oh..well..uh..again, no worries. It..looks nice. Just uh, send me the photos when ya get a minute? Gotta..go meet a guy. Thanks again.”
Frank was on his feet in a flash and bolting out the door without another word, leaving you there stunned by his reply. His boots thudded heavily against the steps with every furious step he took, swearing at himself along the way.
“Fuckin’ idiot. ‘Looks nice’? Seriously? That’s the best you could fuckin’ come up with? You dumb motherfucker.”
Frank paused at the bottom of the steps, waging an internal moral war within himself. Part of him wanted to turn around, march right back up to your office, tell you what he really thought about the picture, then bend you over your desk and fuck you six ways from Sunday. But he knew better. He couldn’t get involved with you. He couldn’t get involved with anyone.
»»——— ———««
It had been two weeks since you had heard from Frank. That wasn’t totally unusual. Frank was known to disappear for weeks, even months at a time, then would show back up when he needed something. You had met him several months ago through Karen. You had drunkenly confessed your crush on the big, bad Punisher to her. You knew she had a weird, complicated friendship with Frank. Karen was your best friend, and you two shared a lot of familiar trauma and a complicated moral compass. You both felt like you could understand Frank’s motives, subtly justifying his actions to no one but each other. That was why she knew she could trust you with him.
Seven months ago, Frank had showed up at your door at one-thirty in the morning, completely covered in blood. To say you were surprised was an understatement. Your shock must have been clearly written all over your features when you answered the door to find none other than Frank Castle leaning against the doorway, face covered in fresh bruises and gashes that were dripping with molasses of deep crimson. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he grunted and nodded his head towards you.
“Karen said you were a friend. Knew your way ‘round a first aid kit.”
All the pieces started to slowly come together in your head. Karen was out of town for a conference with the Bulletin. Frank must have come looking for her, and she had most likely redirected him to you in her absence, knowing that you would help him. Frank looked somewhat..nervous? His dark eyes trailed over you with uncertainty, clearly still unsure how trustworthy you were. He must have either been desperate or in a lot of pain to bite the bullet and follow Karen’s instructions to find you. Blinking away your stunned expression, you willed your foggy brain to clear up as you swung your door open wider and held your trembling hand out towards him.
“Oh..yeah, sorry. I..I wasn’t expecting anyone. Um..come in. What uh..what do you need?”
That was the first time you had patched up Frank. Your hands shook slightly with trepidation, due to the fact that Frank was hurt badly and you didn’t want to make it worse, but also due to the fact that you were face to face with the Frank Castle for the first time. Pictures didn’t do him justice. He didn’t make small talk, not that you really expected him to. He sat there silently, grunting every now and then as you stitched him back together and cleaned his various wounds, all the while watching you with complete scrutiny. When he finally passed out from either blood loss or exhaustion, you stayed up all night curled up in the chair across from the small couch his body had completely overtaken. If you hadn’t been so stressed, you might have laughed at the sight of his large body dangling off your tiny couch.
You checked his breathing every twenty minutes, only stopping after two hours when his large hand darted out to grab onto your wrist carefully. His touch was rough and warm, a juxtaposition you welcomed eagerly. Your eyes widened slightly at just how large his hand was compared to your own, completely covering your fingertips up to the beginning of your forearm. Your breath hitched in your throat as he opened his eyes to look up at you, the moonlight filtering through your curtains illuminating a sliver of his hardened features. An achingly beautiful mosaic of purples and blues were scattered over his face where bruises had begun to bloom like the first day of spring. There was a tiny glint of reverence in his obsidian eyes that nearly knocked the breath out of you.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re hurt, and I really don’t want you to die in my living room.”
“You doubtin’ your own work, doc?”
“I..I’m not a doctor, Frank. Nor any version of a licensed medical professional. I’m an editor for fucks sake. I read manuscripts for a living. I just happen to know my way around a first aid kit because I have three fearless and extremely reckless younger brothers.”
That was the first time, and one of the only times, you ever saw Frank Castle smile. The corners of his mouth curved upwards into the ghost of a miniscule grin. You wanted it to last forever. But as most things with Frank, it was fleeting, and as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished. His large hand gently squeezed at your wrist before letting go. You hated how quickly you already missed the brief contact.
“I ain’t gonna die. Trust me, I’ve had worse. Get some sleep.”
“Frank-”
“Karen trusts you. So do I.”
»»——— ———««
And that was typically how it went over the next few months. If Karen was out of town or busy with a deadline, Frank came to you. Sometimes, he came straight to you anyway, grumbling some excuse about Karen being wrapped up in something. It made your heart swell with pride that you had won Frank’s trust, and that sometimes he came to you just because he wanted to. That he considered you two something along the lines of friends. There were moments that made you question if there was room for more than that. Frank always guided you to the opposite side of the sidewalk when you were out, taking the spot closest to the street himself. Sometimes he placed his large hand carefully on your lower back to usher you in the correct direction if you weren’t paying enough attention to where you were walking, the gentle act sending your brain into a frenzy. He even memorized your coffee order, although he would always insult it and scoff before giving it to you. “You ever try gettin’ any actual coffee with all that sweet shit?” You had tried several times to work up the courage to flirt with him in a way that was light enough it could be played off as banter, but you were never brave enough.
You supposed you could chalk all those little moments up to him just being a gentleman, and anything else you had derived had been a figment of your own imagination. Frank was a stoic, broody, incredibly intimidating man. He was never mean to you, of course. He had never been anything but gentle with you. Still, you were afraid. You could never gauge what he was feeling unless it was anger. He was extremely difficult to read, and he didn’t talk more than he had to. Frank was also a very complicated man, still very clearly in mourning of what he had lost. It felt wrong to invade on that.
You thought you would eventually get used to the sight of him shirtless, or only in boxers. But unfortunately for you, that day never came. As a matter of fact, every time you saw him begin to shred his torn and bloodied clothes, it only made the ache between your thighs that much more unbearable. He was absolutely captivating. Every inch of muscle was defined perfectly, from his broad shoulders down to the delicious v lines that disappeared beneath the waistband of his briefs. Frank’s arms were bigger than your head, and his hands..God you loved his hands. You wanted to know what they felt like wrapped around your throat, digging into your hips, palming at your chest. You didn’t turn your eyes away from the scars that were scattered across his skin, but they did send fresh cracks throughout your heart every time they were on display. You wanted to trace your fingertips over them, and gently kiss every single one of them away. You knew the scars that covered his skin were nothing compared to the ones you couldn’t see.
There was one night you thought you had finally been caught. Your hands were shaking, not because you were nervous or because the gash on Frank’s hip was really bad, but because he was so close to you, closer than he had ever been. You were on your knees right beside him while he laid back on the couch, arm propped up behind his head showcasing his bulging bicep. Your palm was flat against his lower abdomen, right above the waistband of his briefs, as your other carefully stitched his torn flesh back together.
His dick was essentially staring you in the face beneath the thin fabric and it made it hard to focus. Everytime you moved in closer to Frank, your heart pounded so hard against your ribcage you were certain he could hear it in the silence. Feeling the warmth radiating from the proximity to his skin, skimming the taut muscle under your fingertips, smelling the scent of his musky cologne that filled your small apartment for days even after he left, it drove you wild. Frank chuckled deeply as he placed his large hand completely over yours, tearing your unfiltered attention back to his face.
“You keep shakin’ like that, you’re gonna stab me. I’ve had my fill of bein’ stabbed for one evenin’.”
“I..Sorry.”
“S’alright. I just need ya to relax for me, can ya do that?”
Your mouth went dry at his words. You knew he hadn’t meant for them to sound so suggestive, but it stirred something deep within you. You would do fucking anything that man asked. Letting out a deep breath, you pushed your selfish thoughts to the back of your mind and licked your lips, nodding your head slowly.
“Yeah..yeah, I-I’m sorry. This one’s just..it’s pretty bad, Frank.”
“I’ll live. Take your time, darlin’.”
Oh. That was new. The tone of Frank’s voice was so soft and gentle in comparison to the usual gruffness of it that it made you almost wanna cry. You had never heard him talk to anyone that way, not even Karen. Frank was never aggressive or demanding with you, but he usually wasn’t so soft spoken either. He had certainly never called you anything other than your name before. Frank’s voice was another thing you loved. It was so rough and coarse, the deep bass of it traveled straight to your core every time he spoke.
“Ya’know, we were trained to do this shit. Never know when you gotta piece someone back together while shit’s explodin’ around ya. We were trained for months, ya’know?. I tell ya, first time I ever had to stitch one of my guys up, I was scared shitless. It’s easy to prepare to do somethin’, but ya never actually know what it’s gonna be like ‘til you do.”
That was one of the few times Frank had ever opened up about his past to you, clueing you in to the Frank that might still be there under all the jagged layers of pain and trauma. It made you smile, that he felt comfortable enough to share that with you, like you had won over another small piece of him. A tiny victory.
“It’s really hard for me to imagine you being scared.”
“I’m still human. Sure, I get scared sometimes. Not as much these days, ya’know. Not as much to lose.”
»»——— ———««
Unbeknownst to you, Frank had spent every single night of the past two weeks with one hand wrapped viciously around his cock and the other death gripped onto his phone with your risque picture on display. He knew it was wrong. He knew he should feel bad about it. Frank really did try to get that picture out of his head. He took cold shower after cold shower, cleaned every single gun in his collection twice, and even tried to take his frustrations out on the unlucky fucks that dared to get in his way. But it was no use. The swell of his cock refused to go down until he paid it some attention. It was relentless and Frank was desperate.
It was supposed to just happen once. Frank was supposed to get it out of his system, delete the picture, and move on. But every night he found a reason not to get rid of it. Every night, he had an excuse. He felt like a raging, horny teenager all over again, fucking his hand into the mattress of the motel bed every night to the sight of you in the barely there black lace, imagining what you would feel like wrapped around him. Frank hadn’t touched himself in weeks, had been too busy and focused to cater to his own needs. But wild imaginations of you had him feeling like he was going to fucking explode if he couldn’t give himself some relief. Throughout the day he was ansty, even more irritable than usual, hardly able to fucking sit still as he thought about what was waiting for him once he got back to his room.
It wasn’t just the picture that preoccupied his mind. Frank felt like he was fucking consumed with you. He found himself thinking about you constantly, wondering how your day at work was, if you were safe, what book you had your nose in this week, what latest bakery treat you were trying your hand at. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, you had grown on him immensely. He made excuses for himself when he would opt to visit you instead of Karen. He tricked himself into believing that Karen was busy instead of facing the truth that he just wanted to see you. Just wanted to hear your laugh when he said something you thought was funny. Just wanted to borrow another book from your collection to get a glimpse into your mind. Just wanted to pretend to be a burden when you offered to let him stay for dinner because it was the only fucking sense of normalcy he had these days. Just wanted to feel your soft touch on his skin as you carefully mended all of the parts of him that were torn and broken, even the parts you couldn’t see.
That picture shed a light on something that Frank had been desperately trying to ignore since the moment he met you and experienced your undeserved kindness. A feeling Frank swore he would never, and could never, encounter again. Part of him felt guilty. How could he be infatuated with another woman when he was still waist deep in revenge for the one he lost? The other part of him could no longer deny how badly he wanted you. That curtain had been pulled back, a glaring spotlight on everything Frank had tried to hide from these past few months. There was no more pretending.
Frank had a choice to make. It was either give in, or let you go. For good. His struggles with his feelings for you were beginning to get in the way of his work and if he wasn’t careful, he was gonna make a mistake in a big way. He had to make a choice, and fast, consequences be damned.
»»——— ———««
You had just finished getting out of a steamy shower, humming softly to yourself as you rubbed your favorite velvet amber and patchouli scented lotion all over your damp skin. After letting your hair down from the messy knot on top of your head, you put on a pair of silky sleep shorts and a tank top, slipping a pair of fuzzy socks onto your feet. You continued to hum as you padded through the open living room to the kitchen that was connected, not even noticing the dark figure sitting in the corner that was silently observing you. As you reached for a wine glass from the cabinet, a deep voice cut through the quiet and burst your blissful ignorance.
“You really need a security system.”
You jumped with a squeal at the sound of the voice, instantly whipping around to face the dark figure with widened eyes. You had a few candles burning on the coffee table that cast an ambient golden glow over your apartment. You had planned a relaxing evening for yourself and decided not to run up your electricity bill when you had so many candles that you had been excited to burn. Your heart beat frantically in your chest as you squinted your eyes, trying to make out the silhouette in the corner.
“S’just me, darlin’. Don’t freak out.”
“Frank?”
“Didn’t even reach for a knife or nothin’. Thought I taught you better than that.”
A deep, breathy sigh of relief sounded from you as Frank slowly stood and took a few steps forward into the dim light, his large frame finally coming into view. You rubbed your palms over your face slowly, feeling your nerves start to settle now that there was not in fact an intruder in your apartment.
“Jesus, Frank. You nearly sent me into cardiac arrest. Why didn’t you make any noise when you came in?”
Frank stared at you silently, an unreadable expression plastered over his face. For a moment, he heavily regrets not alerting you that he was here while you were in the shower. Maybe you wouldn’t be wearing those tiny little shorts and a tank top with no bra. He grinds his teeth as he takes in your appearance. He can still see little droplets of water gliding down your collarbones, soaking into the fabric of your tank top. Your hair cascaded over your shoulders in loose waves, and your cheeks were still twinged pink from the heat of the shower. He can smell the scent of your lotion over all the burning candles, and it made his fingers twitch at his sides.
“Sorry. Tried to holler, but don’t think ya heard me over the shower.”
That was a lie. He had knocked though, and then began to panic when you didn’t answer. It was late on a Saturday, so he knew you weren’t at work. The thought briefly crossed his mind that you could be on a date, but he furiously pushed that to the back of his mind as he fished for his spare key to your place and shoved the door open. His right hand flew to the gun tucked into the belt of his jeans, ready to shoot at whoever as his eyes darted rapidly around your apartment. He only stilled when he heard the sound of running water and the melodic tune of your voice as you sang some fucking pop song he didn’t recognize.
Frank had quietly shut the door, securing both locks into place before taking a seat in the chair in the corner of the room. He closed his eyes and relaxed back against the chair as he listened to you sing in the shower. It was a complete invasion of privacy, but definitely not the worst one he had committed when it came to you. Frank thought you sounded like an angel. He wanted to hear you sing more. Maybe he’d play guitar for you, if you’d sing along. Your voice caused a wave of calm to wash over him that he hadn’t felt in weeks. Although, it was short lived when he heard the water cut off and quickly had to come up with an excuse as to why he was sitting in the dark waiting for you.
You hadn’t noticed the way Frank was looking at you since your eyes were too busy scanning over his entire body for injuries. You tilted your head to the side, brows knit together quizzically as you made your way over to stand in front of him. Normally when Frank showed up like this, he was bloody, and there were wounds to be cleaned or stitched. But you didn’t see anything. No cuts. No scrapes. No bruises. No gashes or bullet holes from what you could tell. Not a single piece of his hair was even out of place. You dipped your head back to stare up at Frank in bemusement.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? I..I don’t see any holes.”
You smiled at your own little stupid joke, but it quickly faltered when you took in the look on his face. Frank had begun to give in a little to your lame attempts to make him laugh, granting you mercy and offering the faintest of smiles or chuckles in response. But he wasn’t smiling, or laughing. His strong jaw was set in a hard line, and his expression was stony. There was something in his eyes though..something unfamiliar you had never seen before.
“I’m fine.”
Both of you stared at one another silently for what felt like hours. You began to feel uneasiness seep into your bones, feeling suddenly even smaller under his harsh gaze. Frank was huge, physically and height-wise. He always towered a good foot over you, which never made you feel unsettled until right now. He looked almost..mad? In that moment, you felt for everyone that had ever been on the receiving end of this menacing look. They didn’t have the luxury of knowing Frank Castle wouldn’t hurt them. Not like you did. Swallowing thickly, you took a shaky breath and spoke softly.
“So..if you don’t need patching up..what do you need, Frank?”
“To confess.”
Frank’s voice had dipped an impossible octave deeper and it caused you to shiver along with sending a flood of wetness between your thighs. You tried not to focus so much on his voice and instead on his words, feeling even more perplexed as they settled in your ears. You tilted your head slightly to the side as you stared up at him curiously.
“I..I’m not sure I’m the best person for the job. I’m not religious, Frank. You know that.”
“Yeah, but you’re the closest thing to an angel I’ve ever seen. Besides, it ain’t that kinda confession.”
Your heart thudded loudly in your ears and you felt warmth creeping onto your face, settling into a deep rosy tint that covered the expanse of your cheekbones. Your lips parted in surprise at his words. Frank had never said anything to you like that before. You had no idea where this was coming from, but you desperately wanted to find out.
“Oh..well..I’m not a cop either.”
“I know that, smartass.”
There was an edge to Frank’s voice that submissed you into silence. He wasn’t in the mood for games or playful banter. This was uncharted territory for you. Frank hadn’t been so impassive since the first night you met him, but he had also never spoken in such a harsh tone to you. It caused you to take a step back, and some kind of recognition flashed in Frank’s eyes about his slip. He wasn’t angry with you. He was angry with himself. He dipped his head for a moment, letting out a deep sigh through his nose before meeting your gaze again with a slightly softer expression.
“I need to confess somethin’ to you, personally.”
You didn’t know whether to speak or not, so you kept quiet, staring up into his dark ebony eyes and trying to find something, anything you could use to decipher his cryptic words. But he gave nothing away. Frank had an excellent poker face. There was nothing there but the emotion that was burning brightly in his stare that you still couldn’t identify. Frank squared his shoulders, bracing himself for whatever reaction you were about to have. It was now or never.
“I didn’t delete it.”
You blinked a few times as you tried to process his words, racking your brain for anything that would make them make sense. Confusion settled onto your features as you waited for Frank to continue, but he didn’t. He just stared at you in anticipation.
“What?”
“The picture. I didn’t delete it.”
It felt like your brain was swiveling back and forth as you tried to keep up. You had been so busy with work the past few weeks, and worrying about Frank, that you had almost forgotten about the photo you had accidentally sent him. Once that lightbulb went off in your head, your eyes widened slightly, lips parting to form an “o” shape, but you still didn’t speak. You had no idea what to say. You were still trying to process what he just said. Why did he say that? What did he mean?
“Oh.”
Frank’s hard stare shifted from your eyes to your full lips, trying to get a reading on what was going through your head. You typically wore all of your emotions, and normally that always helped clue him in to what you were feeling, but right now he couldn’t fucking tell. He could see the scarlet coating your cheeks, but he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment, anger or..something else. But that one simple word you uttered had completely taken him by surprise. His dark brows furrowed as they knit in the middle of his forehead, staring down at you in bewilderment.
“That’s it?”
“I..don’t really know what to say.”
“You ain’t mad?”
“Why?”
Frank cocked his head to the side as he stared down at you. He had prepared himself for a million different reactions from you. He had rehearsed an apology speech, was gonna let you use him as your own personal punching bag, nearly wore a goddamn bulletproof vest just in case. But this..was not in the realm of his expectations.
“What do you mean ‘why’?”
“Why did you keep it?”
Frank paused for a moment. Maybe there was a chance to salvage this. He could lie. He could say he just forgot about it, realized his mistake, and wanted to apologize. But you didn’t look mad that he kept it. You looked..intrigued. You weren’t yelling at him, calling him a pervert and tossing him out of your apartment, so he decided to press his luck and take it a step further. Fuck it.
“Because I thought you looked fucking beautiful in it.”
Frank’s words nearly knocked the breath right out of your lungs. You were having a hard time processing them, even as they echoed loudly in your ears over and over again. That fire that was burning in his predatory gaze was now roaring loudly, setting you ablaze along with it once realization set in. It wasn’t anger swirling around in Frank’s eyes, it was lust.
You had to be dreaming. This had to be a dream. There was no way Frank Castle himself was here, standing in front of you, telling you he thought you were beautiful. Your brain wouldn’t accept it. This had to be some sick, twisted trick your mind was playing on you. Warmth spread between your thighs like wildfire at his admission, the wetness already there doing nothing to put it out. Frank’s stare was unwavering. He wouldn’t tear his eyes away from you. As if he could sense your apprehension, he took a bold step forward and hooked his index finger under your chin, tilting your head back so that you had to look up at him.
“C’mon, darlin. Talk to me. Tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours. ”
“I..I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?”
“You think I’m pretty.”
Frank chuckled lightly, brushing the calloused pad of his thumb experimentally over your cheekbone in a soothing manner.
“No, I said I think you’re beautiful.”
“Why?”
“The hell you mean ‘why’?”
You couldn’t think of an answer. You couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of Frank lightly dragging his thumb slowly along the edge of your bottom lip, his gaze dropping just for a moment to linger on your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed at the contact, reveling in the sensation of his touch on you for once.
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
Your eyes instantly flew open at his gruff words, and a tiny smirk curled onto the corner of his mouth at your obedience. Cupping your cheek gently, he took a slight step forward to close the gap between you, placing his other hand gingerly on your lower back. He pulled you in languidly until you were flush against him, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort, but he didn’t find any. You melted into his touch, leaning your face into his rough palm like you had dreamed of so many nights before. You weren’t pulling away. You weren’t telling him to leave. You weren’t angry. You wanted this too.
“Atta girl. You been so damn good to me these past few months, sweetheart. You gonna let me be good to you?”
You sighed softly at his words, nodding your head eagerly as your hands flew up to grip tightly onto the collar of his black denim jacket. As you stood up on your tiptoes to capture his lips, both of his large hands grasped onto your waist to keep you in place as he stared down into your eyes with a shake of his head.
“I need words, sweet girl. C’mon, needa hear it. Tell me you want this too.”
“I want it, Frank. Please..please.”
That was all the affirmation Frank needed to crash his lips onto yours like violent waves in a perilous storm. The kiss was hungry and desperate, and you found yourself getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. He was everywhere but you felt like you couldn’t be close enough. You fervently shoved the worn denim down his shoulders, letting it fall carelessly onto the floor beneath as your fingers attempted to work on the buttons on his shirt. Frank chuckled against your mouth as he broke the kiss, grabbing both of your wrists in one of his large hands.
“Easy baby, we got all night.”
“But-”
“Shh. Let me take care of you for once, yeah?”
Before you could register what was happening, Frank had wrapped his strong arms around your waist and lifted you as if you weighed nothing, crossing the small space of your apartment in short strides towards your bedroom. You half expected him to toss you down onto the mattress, and were pleasantly surprised when he carefully sat you down on the edge of your bed. You dipped your head back to stare up at him in wonder.
Anticipation buzzed throughout your veins and you felt your breath hitch in your throat when Frank slowly kneeled down in front of you to be eye level with you. His large hands came down to rest on your bare thighs, squeezing gently to get your attention.
“The second I do somethin’ you don’t like, you let me know. At any point you change your mind, or wanna stop, tell me. I won’t be mad. Understand?”
Nodding your head fervently, you surged forward and grasped Frank’s face in your hands, hungrily chasing the taste of his lips. He chuckled against your mouth, tearing himself away which caused you to whine softly as he gently grabbed your wrists.
“C’mon, honey. What’d I tell ya? Need your words. Tell me you understand.”
“I understand Frank just..please..kiss me.”
You didn’t care how needy and desperate you sounded. Months and months of built up frustration were making you more impatient than usual. You had been dreaming about this for so long, and it was finally happening. You found yourself momentarily suspended in belief that Frank actually thought there was anything he could do that you wouldn’t absolutely love.
“Yes ma’am.”
Frank settled on his knees in between your thighs, grabbing onto the back of your head as his other hand found its home on your waist. Your lips were incredibly soft and tasted of that pink grapefruit chapstick that you were always wearing. As he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, you meekly whined, and the sound went straight to his cock. Frank was caught in tandem between wanting to take his time and worship every inch of you and wanting to be selfish and finally bury himself to the hilt inside of you.
This time when your timid fingers went to work on the buttons of his shirt, he didn’t stop you. He decided to let you set the pace, and would only go as far as you wanted. He tore his hands away from you only for a brief moment as you pushed the shirt over his broad shoulders, instantly returning his touch to every spare expanse of your skin he could find to ground himself to reality. You were here, and you wanted him.
Your fingertips brushed against every curve of muscle, every raised and indented scar like you had done so many times before, but this time with renewed vigor. Frank’s skin was always so warm and you savored every ember of his heat. His fingertips cautiously slipped under the hem of your tank top, dancing over the exposed skin of your hips as he brought his lips near your ear.
“Can I take this off, honey?”
“Yes.”
You were surprised at how quickly you were able to answer. Lifting your arms above your head, you let Frank tug the soft fabric upwards, letting out a soft hiss when the chill in the room nipped at your exposed chest. Frank’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of you nearly naked before him, a low groan emitting in the back of his throat. He didn’t hesitate to lean in and latch his mouth around one of your peaked nipples causing a soft moan to tumble from your lips. The warmth of his mouth contrasted so sharply with your cold bedroom that it had your head spinning. You arched your back to grant your chest fully to Frank, becoming a whimpering mess as his large hand fondled your breast and played with your other nipple. You gripped onto the back of his neck, growing wetter by the second from his delectable assault on your chest.
“Frank..please..”
“What is it baby? What do ya need, hm? Tell me what ya need, I’ll give you anything. Anything you fuckin’ want.”
“Please touch me.”
You should be embarrassed at how breathy you sounded, already so worked up from so little. But that was just the effect Frank had on you, and he fucking loved it. He loved how responsive you were to his touch, and his words. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your little shorts and panties, giving the elastic on both a faint tug.
“Gotta take these off. Gonna let me do that, hm?”
“Please.”
Frank thought he was gonna cum in his pants just from the way you were already begging for him. He had barely even touched you yet, and his excitement only grew for how you would react when he finally did. In a flash, you were completely bare before him, and Frank thought you were the most beautiful fucking thing he had ever seen. Leaning in closer, his broad shoulders spread your thighs further apart to give him a better view of your glistening cunt, and he was fucking done for.
“Fuck sweetheart. You been like this the whole fuckin’ time?”
You shuddered at the ravenous look in Frank’s eyes as he zeroed in on your soaked pussy. The wetness that had accumulated since his confession had grown unbearable, and you just needed him to do something. Anything.
“Everytime you’re around.”
Frank’s eyes darkened considerably as they flickered up towards your face, a wicked glint dancing around in his irises.
“That right?”
Capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, you nodded your head quickly, feeling heat spreading even further throughout your thighs.
“My poor girl. That’s just fuckin’ mean of me, ain’t it? You take such good care of me, and I leave you like this. Fuckin’ cruel of me. You gonna let me take care of you now?”
Frank's large hands slowly inched up your thighs, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the tops of them. He stared you down intently as he braced his palms on your inner thighs, spreading you open completely for him. Raising his hand up slowly, he hovered his thumb over your clit as he waited for your answer.
“Please, Frank.”
“Atta girl.”
The contact of his rough thumb pressing against your clit had you jolting upwards, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth without warning. Frank gripped onto your hip to keep you steady, using his index finger to collect some of your slick before starting to rub slow, purposeful circles around your clit. You moaned at the relief you felt when he touched you, grabbing onto one of his shoulders to tug him in closer. Frank fucking loved the way you sounded, and he wanted more of it. He slowly increased his speed, applying more pressure here and there before slowly slipping his index finger inside of you. He took a moment to gather himself at how tight you felt around just his finger, his cock twitching in his jeans at the thought of how easily he could ruin you for any other man.
“There we go, that’s my good girl. Go on, move those hips. Just like that baby. C’mon sweetheart, take what you need.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your hips against Frank’s hand, watching the way his arm flexed everytime he pushed his finger back inside your greedy pussy. He followed your movements like the tide chasing the moon, pushing back wherever you pulled. A louder moan rang throughout your otherwise silent apartment when he added a second finger, curling them both upon exit in a beckoning manner that had your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. He hadn’t even fucked you, and you were ruined. You would never be able to touch yourself again. You would never be as good as Frank. No one would.
“Doin’ so fuckin’ well for me, baby. Knew you would. Look so beautiful like this. Gonna let me taste you, hm? Bet you taste so fuckin’ sweet.”
Frank didn’t bother to wait for you to answer this time. The alluring noises you made were enough for him to pull you further to the edge of the bed by your hips, diving in to devour you completely. A silent cry hung in your throat when he wrapped his lips around your swollen clit and began to suckle, all the while still driving his thick fingers inside you at unexplored depths. You were hanging on the edge by a thread, trying your hardest to will away your orgasm so he would keep his head between your thighs forever. Your fingers weaved through his dark tresses, loving how good he looked with his hair slightly grown out, but loving even more that you had something to pull on.
Frank hummed at your taste. He fucking growled against your pussy and the vibrations had your thighs shaking around his head. You tried to give him a warning, but there was no time. You couldn’t find your voice. The second he started flicking his tongue over your sensitive nub at an inhuman pace while curling his fingers against that spongy spot inside you, you were coming apart and Frank was there to collect every drop. Your inner thighs burned from the abrasiveness of his stubble, but you welcomed it eagerly. If anything, it was at least one reminder that tonight had been real.
Frank didn’t stop his assault on your clit as you rode out your high on his fingers, continuing to lap up everything that you had to offer. You whimpered due to the sensitivity from your commanding orgasm, trying to push at Frank’s broad shoulders to get him to budge, but the stubborn fucker wouldn’t move. You could feel him grinning against your core, hear him chuckling softly at your whines and pleas. He was enjoying this.
“God Frank, please. Please..I need a minute.”
Reluctantly, Frank leaned back and licked the rest of your release from his lips. You stared down at him breathlessly, wanting to commit every single detail of the sight before you to memory. His mouth and chin were still gleaming with your release, dark eyes wild and blown out, hair disheveled from your incessant tugging, and broad chest rising and falling quickly as he attempted to catch his breath. But the thing that stole the breath right out of your lungs was that Frank was smiling. Not a crooked one that took up the corner of his mouth, not his usual cocky smirk. A full on, mouth split wide open, all teeth on display, eyes crinkling at the corners, smile. If you hadn’t been so dazed out in bliss, you might have cried at the sight of it.
“You alright?”
“You’re smiling.”
“Hell yeah I’m smilin’. Just made my pretty girl come, and she tastes like fuckin’ heaven. What’s not to smile about?”
A blush crept on your cheeks at his words, causing you to mirror the grin that had taken over his mouth.
“I’ve never seen you smile like that before.”
Frank raised up off his knees, leaning over the bed and placing both of his large hands on either side of your head as he looked down at you so tenderly, it made your stomach flip and nervousness settle in your ribcage. The look in his eyes felt so..intimate.
“Ain’t had a reason to. Until you.”
Grabbing onto the back of Frank’s neck, you pulled him down to mold your lips together in a passionate kiss. You wanted him to feel everything. You wanted more. This kiss was different from the ones before. It was more patient and evocative, a silent understanding between you and Frank. Your fingertips trailed down the expanse of his chest until you reached the buckle of his belt, pulling the leather from the confinements and popping open the button of his jeans. His lips migrated along your jaw and down your neck, sucking softly at the juncture just above your collarbone.
His large hand wrapped around your throat, not tightly, but just to keep you close. His teeth skimmed along your neck as you tugged down his zipper, pushing his jeans and briefs down his hips to set him free. Frank let out a grateful groan when his cock slapped against his stomach, pulling back just for a moment to shred the layers of fabric completely. You clenched around nothing at the sight of him naked above you. God, he was beautiful. You greedily accepted his kiss once again when he settled his hips between yours, reaching between your bodies to carefully wrap your hand around his base, eliciting a delicious moan from his throat.
Frank was hard, and looked painfully so. You smoothed your thumb over the leaking tip of his cock, causing his hips to jerk forward slightly. He was incredibly thick and long, feeling unbelievably heavy in your small hand.
“Shit. Feels even better than I imagined.”
Your eyes darted up to meet Frank’s at his quiet confession, searching the midnight pools intently as a tiny smirk tugged at your lips.
“Frank Castle. You’ve thought about me touching you like this?”
There wasn’t even a shred of shame in Frank’s eyes as he stared down at you with a wolfish grin, leaning in to brush his nose along yours as you continued to stroke him slowly.
“Might’ve left out the part where I’ve been gettin’ off to that picture you sent me every night the past couple weeks.”
Your mouth dropped open and your eyes went wide, a hearty laugh rumbling deep within Frank’s chest.
“And you’re just telling me this now?”
“I thought you’d be mad.”
“Do I look mad?”
“No, and I’m so fuckin’ glad you’re not. Thought I was gonna have to say goodbye to you tonight.”
Frank carefully pried your hand off of him and replaced it with his own, rubbing the head of his cock between your slick folds and teasing your clit every time he did so. Your brows furrowed at his words, but the second you felt the weight of him rubbing against your still sensitive clit, you gasped sharply. Gripping onto his bicep, you struggled through the pleasure to keep your eyes open. You weren’t letting those words go so easily.
“Why would you say that Frank?”
Frank hated that he could hear the hurt that laced your question, leaning in to press his forehead against yours as he sighed deeply. His hips moved at a tedious pace to keep you both placated, but not enough to satisfy what either of you really wanted.
“Thought you’d be mad, never wanna see me again. Thought..fuck, that I couldn’t have you. Shouldn’t have you. You’re too good to me, sweetheart. Too good for me. Didn’t think I deserved somethin’ so..fuck, so good.”
Frank’s face was twisted up in a concoction of hedonism and self deprecation. You knew what he thought of himself. You knew you would never be able to get him to see what you saw in him. But that didn’t mean that you were going to stop trying. You lifted your hands to cradle his face, parted lips stretching into the best smile you could offer when he was dragging his cock lazily through your folds.
“You didn’t think to ask me what I wanted?”
At that, you lifted your hips slightly, signaling that you were ready for more. That you wanted more. Frank took the hint and slipped the head of his cock into your entrance, watching the way your eyes lulled shut at the feeling. It took every ounce of will power he had not to dive inside your body. He took his time, moving inch by inch, allowing you to adjust to his size. It felt like you were fucking suffocating him, and for a minute he was genuinely worried he wouldn’t be able to last. Once he had finally bottomed out, he dropped his head into the crook of your neck and let a strangled moan escape. You dug your fingertips into his shoulders as he stretched your walls to their limits, sucking in a breath at the burning trail he created.
Frank pulled your legs up to wrap around his hips, snaking one of his arms beneath you and around your waist to keep your chest flush to his. He was fucking terrified that at any moment you would disappear. Frank remained as patient as possible, awaiting with bated breath for you to tell him he could move. He couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted something so fucking badly.
Turning your head slightly, you pressed the gentlest kiss to the skin beneath his ear. Frank lifted his head slightly so he could get a good look at you, feeling his heart race at the sight of you beneath him.
“I want you, Frank. All of you. If you want me too, then have me. Please.”
Frank stared down at you in disbelief, trying to figure out what the fuck he had done so right that had led him to this moment right here, with you. But who was he to say no to you? Without another word, he retracted his hips slightly just to bring them flush with yours again. He marveled at the sight of you under him, kiss-bitten lips red and swollen and parted, his name falling in breathy pants and moans from them over and over every time he reached that peak inside you. He could fucking die like this.
“Feel too fuckin’ good sweetheart, not gonna make it much longer. Need ya to let go with me. Can you do that for me, sweet girl? Hm?”
You weren’t sure if you nodded or even spoke. You weren’t sure if you gave any indication at all to Frank that you were coherent and understood what he asked.
“Look at me, baby. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you fall apart.”
The second his fingers found your clit, you were seeing stars. This orgasm was so much fucking stronger than the last one, it suckerpunched every bit of oxygen out of you and you found yourself struggling to breathe. Violent tremors shook throughout your body and you fought so hard to keep your eyes open just long enough to watch Frank fall apart just as hard above you. Your legs tightened around his waist and you gripped onto the back of his neck, holding on as much as he could as his hips stuttered against yours roughly when he finally spilled into you. The loud moan that ripped through his chest was like music to your ears and it nearly sent you over the edge again.
The room felt like a sauna, sweltering and sticky with Frank’s body heat and the combination of your releases hanging heavily in the air. Frank’s panting breaths and your desperate whimpers were the only things your ears could register. Your brain had seemingly shut off and your vision became incredibly fuzzy while you were coming down. You weren’t sure how long that lasted, but the feeling of a calloused finger stroking your cheek seemed to tether you back to reality.
Frank beamed down at you when you slowly opened your eyes, taking in the completely blissful, fucked out look on your face. You nuzzled into his palm, finding your lips maneuvering into a smile of their own accord.
“There’s my girl. Thought I lost you for a second there. Was worried I broke you.”
A symphonious giggle fell from your lips and Frank couldn’t help but grin even wider at the sound. You hummed softly as you looked up at him, shaking your head slowly.
“I don’t break so easily, Castle. Guess you’ll just have to keep trying.”
“That right?”
Lightly gripping onto the chain around his neck, you pulled him down to meet you in a head-spinning kiss. His large hand grabbed your face gently, and you giggled when you felt him nip at your bottom lip.
“That’s right.”
“Well, practice does make perfect.”
#frank castle#frank castle x y/n#frank castle x you#frank castle x reader#frank castle x female reader#frank castle x fem!reader#frank castle smut#frank castle fic#the punisher#the punisher smut#the punisher fic#karen page
6K notes
·
View notes
Note
OMG I HAVE AN IDEA
What about the kids (mid Hogwarts) in like 3rd or younger (2nd?) Year and they invite hermione and ron and the Weasley family for Christmas and it's amazing and we see draco getting along w them 😭😭😭 and Hermione is the 'mom' friend so she loves hanging out w the other blacks and potters? and we see how nice harry and draco's friends are and it's just a heartfelt moment 😭😭😭
I'm a whore for Christmas and also fluff so YES HERE YOU GO I don’t even know if this is any good so I apologize if this isn’t really what you were looking for. I realize now there isn’t much interaction between the golden trio + Draco but this is my take on it 🫶
CBBH Holiday Special - Weasley, Potter, Black families
CW: mentions of past (parental) abuse
What's One More?
You and Sirius were pretty chill parents – at least you liked to think so. You never really spoke to your children like they were children, but rather like little people who had important thoughts and ideas. You let them express themselves creatively, which sometimes led to paint and marker prints lining the walls, or photo albums being plundered and cut up to create scrap books, or even the odd redesign of an old family heirloom portrait in the hall.
None of that wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed with a little magic.
What you guys could not budge on?
Christmas at home with the family.
This was why when Draco sent a letter home during his 3rd year suggesting he may stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, Sirius thought your head might actually combust.
“What on earth is he thinking? He’s never spent a holiday away from us – why wouldn’t he want to come home?” You were yelling at Sirius as if it was him who suggested Draco stay at Hogwarts this Christmas.
“I’m not sure love, maybe there’s a reason.” He tried to reason with you. He should have tried to keep his mouth shut.
“There is no reason good enough to break his mother’s heart.” You pouted, sounding disturbingly close to tears.
And you all called Sirius the dramatic one.
“I’ll talk to him.” Sirius promised with a placating kiss to your temple.
So, Sirius sent him an owl basically along the lines of “hey mate, you’re tearing your mother apart here. It’d be sort of shady of me to let another guy break my girl’s heart so what the hell?”, to which Draco replied, basically speaking straight to Sirius’ soul.
“I’m sorry, dad, it’s just that Theo doesn’t really want to go home this winter, and I don’t want him to be alone for the holidays.”
My stupid lovely caring son, who raised him? Sirius wondered to himself. The answer was obvious. It was you.
Theodore Nott, son of Thoros Nott and the late Camelia Nott nee Rosier. His mother died under suspicious circumstances (which Sirius felt translated directly to “shitty ass husband”) when the boy was four, and Thoros Nott was able to avoid prosecution for his roles in the Wizarding War by offering intel on other prominent Death Eaters.
Azkaban or not, the man was an ass. Rumoured to have killed his own wife, Sirius couldn’t imagine he was much nicer to his only son.
The heir.
Sirius felt sick...it was nearly painful how much he could relate to poor Theodore Nott.
“Did you find out why your son hates us?” You asked Sirius a few days later. You were obviously teasing, but Sirius didn’t miss the genuine concern in your voice.
“Yes, and actually, the reasoning for his absence this holiday is a direct result of him being your child.”
You placed the mug you’d been holding a little too roughly onto the table as you leveled a look at Sirius. “What are you on about?”
“He doesn’t want to leave his friend behind.” Sirius smiled kindly at you. He watched the contempt drain from your face.
“The sod!”
Sirius barked a surprised laugh. “What!?”
“That’s such an easy fix!” you exclaimed like everyone around you was sort of stupid (they kind of were). “His friend can come here! We’re already hosting the Weasley’s; Lily told Harry to invite Hermione too. What’s one more?”
What’s one more, indeed.
So that’s how Sirius, James, Lily, you, Arthur & Molly Weasley ended up on platform 9 ¾ to retrieve exactly eleven (11) children while Bill and Charlie waited back at the house with Remus, Regulus and the youngest four of the Potter/Black children.
“Hermione, I hope your parents weren’t too disappointed we stole you away for the holidays. They already have to part with you for ten months of the year.” You said as you served Lyra a portion of roast potato’s before passing the dish to your left.
“They were a little sad, but they said they understood my excitement at getting the chance to spend more time with wizarding families.” The fourteen-year-old stated matter-of-factly.
“Well, perhaps the next time they’d like to join you. The more the merrier.” James interjected.
“You sure about that Prongsie? This table can’t take much more transfiguring to make it any longer!” Remus called dramatically from the opposite end of the table, as if they were in completely different rooms.
“Bugger the table!” James called back just as dramatically, “we’ll just get a new one!”
Sirius didn’t miss the nervous glance Theo shot towards Draco. Sirius remembered how nervous James’ boisterous behaviour with his parents made him – concerned that a lashing or crucio was just around the corner.
“Don’t mind them, Theo,” you offered quietly to the boy. Sirius took a moment to marvel the fact that you’d noticed too, and your mama-bear protection came out at the perfect time. “They’re idiots with zero volume control.”
“I HAVE PERFECT VOLUME CONTROL, VIX.” James screamed, causing the younger kids to squeal in laughter and bring their hands up to cover their ears. Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley’s all chuckled at the outburst as well – accustomed to James’ brand of goofiness.
“You get used to it, trust me.” Sirius offered quietly with a wink. Theo smiled gratefully at the two of you and seemed to relax somewhat in his chair.
“I agree that the production needs to be tightly structured and coordinated Percy, but it also has to be fun or you’re going to lose your actors.” Hermione could be heard arguing with the older boy from down the hall.
"I cannot work under these conditions." Percy could be heard responding.
“You’d think this was a Broadway production of Sweeny Todd.” Lily muttered quietly to Sirius sat beside her.
“What’s a Sweeny Todd?” Sirius muttered back.
“What’s a Broadway?” James muttered from her other side.
“Purebloods.” Remus muttered from across the room with an eyeroll.
The kids wanted to make their own play for the adults - it was mostly the youngest ones, though Fred & George never could help themselves but partake in any potential mischief, Hermione was very excited to help direct the production, and Percy never could leave very much alone. The second Hermione was involved, Harry and Ron shoved their noses into it too, while Draco and Theo sat in the audience with the adults and far too many stuffed animals.
“I mean, were the teddy bears really necessary? There’s already a theatre worth of people here.” Theo commented what he thought was quietly to Draco, but he had one werewolf and four animagi with animal-like hearing, as well as Molly & Lily with tried and true mother-hearing in the room, so his comment was met with a round of laughter.
“Oh my gods, Draco, can we keep him?” Remus commented as he pretended to wipe a tear from under his eye.
Pink dusted the tops of Theo’s cheek bones, but he offered the room a shy smile.
Sirius thought it was like looking in a mirror: he imagined this is what Effie and Fleamont saw when Sirius spent holidays in this very home some nearly twenty years ago. A boy who was likely fun and eccentric around his friends where he felt safe, but reverting to the proper pureblood heir you were beaten into becoming around adults.
Sirius sort of hated it.
As the little kids and the rest of the production made their way to the room, Sirius noticed James’ eyes on him. James offered him a kind smile that brought tears to his eyes, almost as if he was saying ‘I know, right?’
By the end of the holiday, the adults had almost managed to get Theo to shed his aristocratic persona with them.
“And how’s Minnie? Are you guys being nice to her? Make sure to set up some good pranks this year; gotta keep the old gal on her toes, it’s good for her health.” James said to the Hogwarts students solemnly at breakfast.
“You did not just call Minnie an ‘old gal’, Prongs.” Remus chided from his place at the table.
“You both did not just refer to Professor McGonagall as Minnie.” Regulus added incredulously.
“That’s her name, Reggie.” James answered no nonsense. “We earned that right when we graduated.”
“No, we earned that right when we graduated.” Lily corrected as she motioned to herself, you, and Regulus. “You lot should still be in detention for the crap you pulled.”
Remus, James, and Sirius all adorned their faces with a blissful sort of reverence as they thought back to their school days.
“We were awesome.” James said dreamily.
“You were awful.” You corrected.
“You’re our hero’s.” The Twins added in unison.
“What in Godric’s name are you doing to them, Hermione?” Ron asked through a large serving of sausage in his mouth.
Hermione, who was replacing small pompom’s into two kitchen whisks to hand back to three-year-old Stella and Leo, didn’t even spare Ron a glance as she answered sharply, “It’s good for their fine motor skills, Ronald.”
“Wha’s a fine motor skill?” He asked incredulously, somehow still with food in his mouth.
“Oh, read a book, Ronald.” Hermione huffed before her face turned sickly sweet as she cooed at Stella. “Good job, Stell!”
“Blimey.” Ron muttered as he turned to Harry.
“I can’t believe you’re all going to be leaving us again so soon!” Molly said tearfully as she looked around the room. “I like our having our table so full- FRED WEASLEY YOU GET THAT FURNITURE OFF THE CEILING THIS ISNTANT.”
“I’m George, mum.” The twin said from his chair suspended on the ceiling. Sirius had to give him credit for looking as casual as he did whilst all the blood in his body was no doubt making its way to his head.
“I DON’T CARE WHO YOU ARE, YOU’LL BE GROUNDED IF YOU’RE NOT DOWN IN THE NEXT 30 SECONDS.”
At the beginning of the week – the shouting, the threats, the energy, and the talking back that George (or Fred, Sirius still wasn’t entirely sure) just displayed would have had Theo pale in the face. Today, he just looked around the room quickly to ensure everyone else was in good spirits before joining in on the laughter.
Back on platform 9 ¾, you and Sirius decided to pull Draco aside.
“Hey love, listen. I don’t want to embarrass Theo, but would you let him know we really enjoyed his company over the holiday, and he is welcome at the Manor anytime.” You spoke softly to your son.
“We mean it, Draco. The Potter Manor has, and always will be, a safe place for people to run to. If he needs somewhere better, somewhere safer to go, he’s more than welcome to come live with us.” Sirius added earnestly.
Draco looked like he might cry before he threw himself into his parents’ arms, causing each of them to let out a surprised ‘oof’.
“I love you guys. I’m so lucky to have you – we all are.” Draco said, though his words were muffled from his place in the crook of Sirius’ arm.
“We’re the lucky ones, Draco.” You insisted as you stamped a kiss to his head.
The parents and youngest kids stood on the platform and waved as they watched the train disappear.
“It’s so odd.” James commented quietly.
“What is?” Sirius asked.
“How life works.”
Sirius looked at his mate who was still watching after the long-gone train hoping he would clarify. When it became obvious that he wouldn’t, Sirius elbowed him.
“How’s that?”
James finally turned to Sirius and offered him a smile that seemed to portray a mixture of grief, pride, and love.
“Draco is Theo’s James.”
Sirius watched as you dried your face and went about applying your skincare.
“I can hear your mind turning from here, babe. What’re you thinking about?” You finally said, causing Sirius to look at your reflection only to find your eyes already on him.
“You’re sure you are okay? If Theo needs to move in with us, I mean.” Sirius asks.
Your movements paused as your eyebrows migrated to meet in the middle – bemusement painting your features.
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“We sort of decided we weren’t going to have any more kids.” Sirius explained. You snorted in response as your turned to face him, leaning back against the bathroom counter.
“Sirius, as long as I don’t have to push anymore out, you can have as many kids as you want.”
Sirius smiled immediately at you. “You sure we don’t already have enough?” He asked
Your smile grew to match his. “What’s one more?”
#marauders come back be here#marauders era#marauders au#ask elle#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#sirius black fic#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#jily#moonwater#the weasleys#Weasley twins#marauders fix it
179 notes
·
View notes
Text
things that I overlooked in PJO the first time / small, funny things I noticed during my reread
Part 2: Sea of Monsters
there is a lot this time.
this book is so short and it makes up for the length by being hilarious:
I had nightmares about what Poseidon might turn me into if I were ever on the verge of death - plankton, maybe. Or a floating patch of kelp.
Tyson froze. "Pony!" he cried in total rapture. Chiron turned looking offended. "I beg your pardon?"
"Um..." I said. "Would this be the super-dangerous prophecy that has me in it, but the gods have forbidden you to tell me about it? Nobody answered. "Right," I muttered. "Just checking."
"Uh, I like Hercules." "Why?" "Well, because he had rotten luck. Even worse than mine. It makes me feel better."
Annabeth looked at me. "We have to get out of here." "You think I want to be in the girls' restroom?" "I mean the ship, Percy! We have to get off the ship."
Tyson was terrified of them. All throughout the tour, he insisted Annabeth hold his hand, which she didn't look too thrilled about.
"Then why do the gods even let me live? It would be safer to kill me." "You're right." "Thanks a lot."
A minute later, Annabeth hit a slippery patch of moss and her foot slipped. Fortunately, she found something else to put it against. Unfortunately, that something was my face.
As Luke was raising his sword to rally his troops, a centaur shot a custom-made arrow with a leather boxing glove on the end. It smacked Luke in the face and sent him crashing into the swimming pool. and a few moments later: He [Luke] raised his sword, but got smacked in the face with another boxing glove arrow, and sat down hard in a deck chair. Luke can't catch a break from those boxing arrows, it's the funniest thing
2. also so much baby percabeth!! they’re so cute
She'd [Annabeth] emailed me the picture after spring break, and every once in a while I'd look at it just to remind myself she was real and Camp Half-Blood hadn't just been in my imagination. the fact that he printed out Annabeth's photo?
Annabeth punched him in the nose and knocked him flat, "And you," she told him, "lay off my friend." her standing up for Percy is adorable
I mean she [Annabeth] looked good. Really good. I probably would've been tongue-tied if I could say anything except reet, reet, reet.
She [Annabeth] started to sob - I mean horrible, heartbroken sobbing. She put her head on my shoulder and I held her. Fish gathered to look at us - a school of barracudas, some curious marlins. Scram! I told them. They swam off, but I could tell they went reluctantly. I swear I understood their intentions. They were about to start rumours flying around the sea about the son of Poseidon and some girl at the bottom of Siren Bay. number 1. the way percy is always there for her, number 2. the gossiping fish?? I love it
The look in his [Grover] eyes told me something was terribly wrong. Annabeth had been on guard duty that night, protecting the Fleece. If something had happened -he’s admirably protective, of not just annabeth, but all his friends and I love to see it… exhibit b:
"But if I [Grover] get in trouble again, you'll be in danger, Percy! You could die!" "If you get in trouble again, I want to know about it. And I'll come help you again G-man. I wouldn't have it any other way." I adore their friendship.
3. other mentions:
"I'm Thalia," the girl said. "Daughter of Zeus." what. an. ending. I still remember how floored I was when I first read this wow
the mention of Hylla got me so excited
am I the only one who forgot Percy could control the sailboat? like the flying ropes and whatnot
I also completely forgot about his watch shield!
I'll be back for part 3 shortly! :)
#sea of monsters#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo#pjo series#rick riordan#percabeth#annabeth chase#grover underwood
159 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE MOMENT WE'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!!!!
Here it is, guys!
The Kiyotaka Ishimaru Mastermind comic from 4コマ KINGS Vol. 4!
SPECIFICALLY CITING THIS SO THAT OTHERS KNOW WHERE TO FIND THIS COMIC!!!
Huge, HUUUUGE thanks to @panicuriprince!!! They helped me with clearing the text, rewording panels and putting everything together! Pages 4, 5, and 6 are her doing! PLEEEASE go send her some love, they REALLY helped me get this done and I literally couldn't have done this without her :D
There's a document below the break with more literal translations for the comic, as well as translation notes, a link to a Google Drive folder with ALL of the pages, and other interesting tidbits! Please give it a read!
The Japanese pages will also be below the break!
(As well as a little spiel of mine. It's quite long, so be careful!)
(also please forgive how many tags there are here-)
Remember to read right to left <3
.
.
As promised, here are the Japanese panels:
.
.
AND HERE'S THE DOCUMENT!
.
.
✨ WOW ✨
I can't begin to describe to you all how AMAZING this feels!
I've spent the past 2 years on what felt like a wild goose chase, desperately searching for this one comic that I wasn't even sure existed.
This all started with me finding a photo on Tumblr of this comic and spiraling into this deep dive. First I didn't know if this was even real, then I found out that this comic series had ceased printing, then I couldn't be sure which book it was actually in.
There is literally almost no information out there about the fourth volume of this anthology series. I've said this before and I'll say it again, volumes 1 and 2 both have full translations that you can download off of other websites, and while 3 doesn't seem to have that, there are a lot of separately translated comics floating around out there, namely on Pinterest.
The 4th volume had NOTHING! No matter how hard I searched or how many links I clicked, no one has really said ANYTHING about this book, which was why this specific comic was so hard for me to find.
But I have all of the books now, so I definitely want to do this again for all of them so that people have easy access to these translations. I'll start with book 4 though haha.
Also, I'm not sure who it was, but HUUUUGE thanks to the kind stranger on Ebay who was willing to sent me the whole series!! I literally don't know where I would be right now if these books weren't with me, so thank you <3
Also, thank you to all of my Japanese teachers that I've had throughout the years. If it weren't for them, I wouldn't have been able to understand the comic, haha! One even helped me out in the early stages of this process, so extra thanks to him <3
I feel really passionate about accessible media. I think that everyone should be able to read and find whatever they want. That's part of the reason that I've endeavored on this project. I want everyone to be able to seek out and find these comics if they really want to. And, of course, I want everyone to be able to understand them, too.
So please enjoy this comic! If you'd like to repost it, I'd appreciate being credited just so that others know where they can go to find the full comic.
This one-man project isn't so one-man anymore, and I seriously can't thank everyone who's helped me enough!!! I'm honestly so glad I didn't have to go through this alone <33
ALSO
If you see anything, LITERALLY ANYTHING, that you think I could change/improve (like formatting or different interpretations of the Japanese text), PLEASE shoot me a message!! I want to make sure this comic is as good as it can be, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!
Even if you don't have a suggestion and would just like to reach out to ask a question or something, PLEASE don't be afraid to do that! I know I get really cold feet when sending people asks, so I'm going to reassure everyone who needs to hear it now: You're never going to be a bother to me! I love getting asks! Whenever anyone sends me something, I get really excited <3
So ask questions! Tell me I did a horrible job and got none of the text right! Ask why Ishimaru literally cannot be evil! I don't know the answer, either!
.
.
.
Thank you all so much for the support and the kind words you've been giving me ever since I first announced I was translating this comic! Your support has been extremely motivating to me! Also, you guys are hilarious with your tags!
Seriously, thank you so much! Words literally can't express how I feel right now, but I guess the best way I could describe it is cathartic. I'm REALLY happy that I finally get to share 2 years worth of work with you guys! You've all been a massive help to me in more ways than one <333
KEEP BEING AWESOME <3
#danganronpa trigger happy havoc#danganronpa spoilers#thh spoilers#long post#danganronpa#trigger happy havoc#dr1#manga#4 koma#4コマ#comic translation#translation#dr1 thh#danganronpa thh#dr thh#thh#drthh#dr thh spoilers#kiyotaka ishimaru#ishimaru kiyotaka#mastermind#mastermind ishimaru#monokuma#makoto naegi#naegi makoto#mondo owada#mondo oowada#owada mondo#oowada mondo#chihiro fujisaki
252 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello,
I love your writings on Bradley!! And I wanted to ask if you could write about Bradley who comes out with the Reader who is a model and famous. Bradley is crazy in love with her and very possessive!
Mine
Bradley Cooper x famous! reader
synopsis - Bradley and his girlfriend go to an event for his movie when, one of his co-stars make a move on her.
warnings - Possessive! Bradley, guy being kinda pushy (ew) and dirty talk (barely any so don’t get excited 🫣).
authors note - Ah my heart you guys are too sweet 🤭, I love this request so much. I had to add this photo because he looks TOO fine and I thought it fit the theme :) So sorry this is coming out so late but I hope you love it!
please do not steal my work - belongs to @grey342
Brad’s gonna kill him.
You’re at an event with your boyfriend Bradley for his new movie. As soon as you got out of the car people were going crazy: Girls screaming, paparazzi and interviewers calling your names, trying to get one second of your attention.
You pair have been dating for a long time now.
It all started when he was invited to a runway show you were modelling in. Your very first one as well. He sat front row and couldn't take his eyes off you the entire time. This didn't go unnoticed by the press.
It was everywhere. "Bradley Cooper in love with new runway model!", "Brad getting heart eyes over new model!" and many more.
You ignored these articles as you assumed he was like every other famous person you knew. Selfish, big headed and ignorant. You didn't want to mix with people who behaved like that, modelling was your main focus and if people didn't like that, they knew where the door was.
He tried asking you out numerous occasions but you were very strong willed and always said no. Until one day, you finally gave in and said yes. And it was the best night you had in a while.
You soon realised that he wasn't like other people you had met, he seemed very down to earth and caring. You couldn't help falling for him.
Now here you are years later, happier than ever with a boyfriend who treats you like a goddess.
Bradley is so obsessed with you and he is not afraid to show it. Like last week, a brand invited you to the launch of it's new product and obviously you took him with you. Instead of being in the photos with you he was standing with the paps taking his own photos of you. As soon as you got home he made you pick your favourite one, it's now printed and inside his wallet.
You love each other so much and the world loves it to. Every week there's a news article about you and the fans love it.
You walk together hand in hand waiting to get your photos taken when you notice him staring at you.
"What?" You say softly.
"You are so beautiful sweetheart." He’s completely captivated by you. You feel your face heat up and you look away from him. Even after all these years, he could still make you blush like a teenager.
You get called up to have a photo by yourselves and with the main cast. You notice one of Brad's co-workers staring but you think nothing of it. When your done having your photos taken, you walk over to the bar and dining area.
Brad being the gentleman that he is offered to get your drinks and sent you over to a tall table to wait for him.
You pull out a compact mirror from your purse checking your appearance when you see the same man from earlier walking over to you. He has a grin from ear to ear plastered in his face. He swoops around to the other side of the table and leans on it, trying to act like he’s not posing.
“Hello there beautiful.” He flirts.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” You try and hide your smirk when you see a falter in his facade.
“No but I’d sure like to get to know you.” He says suggestively, looking you up and down as if you were a piece of meat.
“Oh really?,” he nods, “I don’t think my boyfriend would like that very much.”
“Boyfriend? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Where is he?”
“Right behind you.” You have to stop yourself from laughing when you see the look of absolute fear on the man’s face.
“B-Brad I did-”
“Care to tell me why you’re harassing my girlfriend?” He cuts him off. If you weren’t in this situation right now you would throw yourself at him because of how sexy he looks. He’s always sexy but there’s something about him being possessive that really gets you going.
“If I had known I’m so-” You smirk over the fact that he’s digging himself a deeper hole.
“Oh so, since it’s MY girlfriend you’re apologising but if it was any other innocent women you would have no issues pouncing on her.” The man looks lost for words.
“I- I-” He stutters.
“I-I,” Bradley mocks, “ if I catch you anywhere near her, or any other woman here I’ll make sure you’re carried back to your hotel room. Got it?” He’s merely inches away from his face now.
“Loud and clear. I’m sorry.” He apologises towards you. Bradley watches him and when he’s far enough away he turns his attention towards you.
“Are you okay honey?” He asks, his eyes full of concern.
“Yes I’m fine,” he looks at you not convinced, “ really I’m okay.” You place a tentative hand on his arm and squeezed in a soothing manner.
“Good.” He leans down to give you a tentative kiss on the lips. You go to deepen the kiss when he pulls away.
“You wanna get outta here?” He asks with a smirk.
You respond by grabbing his hand and dragging him over to the valet, he laughs. You smile on response and lean up to his ear.
“That was so sexy, as soon as we get home i’m ripping your clothes off..” This makes him laugh harder. When the car arrives your shoving him in, eager to go home and show Brad how much you love him.
#bradley cooper#bradley cooper x reader#phil wenneck#phil wenneck x reader#the hangover#x reader#smut#asks#possessive#boyfriend
155 notes
·
View notes
Text
You just know Anthony is so glad to be able to do boyfriend jobs after he’s officially announced as Princess Kate’s companion.
His arm might be in a sling, and he might never regain any real motor function in it but he would love to carry her purse. He’d love to carry her water bottle while she holds Newton’s leash. He loves that he gets to hold hands with her in public and she kisses his cheek and slides up his sunglasses while his hands are full. He loves just getting to be with her without worrying who’s watching them.
Of course he still blushes when photos of them leaving a high end lingerie store are printed on the front page of the newspaper and he keeps his eyes firmly on his tea that day when they’re invited to the big palace for afternoon tea. Kate’s mother, Mumma to Kate and Queen Mary to him, dutifully tries to keep up conversation with him, her teacup also placed awkwardly on the coffee table so as not to make him feel uncomfortable about the fact that he can’t hold his saucer and drink from his cup at the same time. Edwina lounged in the chair across from him, nudging Kate with the toe of her boots and tossing innuendos at them while King Tharman turned steadily more purple.
“Edwina!” The King finally hissed as Kate sent her sister a rude hand gesture, “Perhaps you could find another topic for your stand up routine.”
Edwina chuckled, “I don’t think so Appa.”
The king sighed, “You’re… admirably persistent as always, Teddy.” He nudged his wife, “She’s your daughter.”
The Queen looked over her teacup at him before she sighed, “I happen to remember your presence in the room at the time as well. It’s a shame you’ve forgotten.”
Kate rolled her eyes from her spot on the floor in front of Anthony, “Anthony doesn’t want to listen to you two flirt thank you.”
Anthony flushed as the King turned his attention to him, “Why not? I have to read 3 pages of speculation about whether or not you’ve bought a thong to wear for him.”
“If you really want to know, Appa-”
“So Anthony!” The King said loudly. “You’re a Harlequins fan I think, anything to say about that instead?!”
103 notes
·
View notes
Text
| Upcoming: Dear John Sneak Peak
Paris, April 1945 💌
…
Julie watched Marge as she watched Gale at his bath and she wondered if this is what it was like in fairytales when the gates of the kingdom are thrown open, everything wanted and wished for is there. The protagonists never know what to do with a dream come true: do you eat it? Fondle, crush, preserve it in a glass case? Such a cruel kindness, dreams come true; Marge’s twitching fingers and gasping lips suggested a torture going on inside her, heavy lidded love and belly hot want.
Julie swore to herself then, she’d feel it too. Soon, she’d be watching the man who owned the jacket as he showed her himself, just as he’d written his heart out for her eyes alone, one day soon he’d be naked and hers and she could watch him and do what people do with dreams.
Perhaps feeling vindictive for being ignored, or perhaps merely thirsty, Spangles suddenly made a series of determined little hops across the suite floor, threaded the blockade of the girls’ feet with ease and, perhaps seeing his chance, nudged open the crack of the bathroom door only to bounce along the marble floor in a cacophonous clatter of little paws that even Gale could hear over the faucet’s roar. Like a slippery fish, he skidded to his side along the bottom of the wide tub, a pink bath warmed hand clutching at the edge and hauling his sopping golden head above the lip to observe his long eared visitor -and the guilty little audience of girls in their night clothes at the threshold.
The look he leveled Marge made Julie’s toes tingle and second guess how chaste these two’s reportedly tame trysts pre-war had really been. “We merely wanted to make sure you didn’t-“ Marge clasped and unclasped her hands, “-drown.” it was a deflated little excuse by the time she got it out.
Spangles had begun to sneeze, ever sensitive to steam and Yardley’s lavender soap, his poor little legs skidding apart further and further on the damp floor. Gale bit his lip from laughing at the cute little creature’s plight.
“Oh laa!” Julie gave up all pretense and entered to save him -the bunny, that is- causing Gale to flail a little harder as if there was a deeper level to the bottom of his tub where he could take refuge. “Add in the bubbles, Major,” Julie always had a remedy, “it’ll hide everything nicely. Don’t ruin poor Marge’s first evening with you by being a prude, she misses you. It’s been years, you know.”
They spent much of that evening in the following way, Gale in his topped off frothy tub, Marge with a mostly useless cloth beside him on the ledge, and Julie primly sat with Spangles in her lap on the closed toilet seat.
“Bucky’s confirmed as best man.” He told Marge, sheepish grin breaking out until both girls laughed at the thought of the boys indulging in their own wedding planning.
He tells them about the radio he built, about the first time they heard her broadcasts, of the photo she’d sent which Bucky and him divided in half each keeping their girl in their pocket, about Brady and the liturgy of devotion he made up for Egan to recite to Julie’s printed picture on the combine wall. The particulars were left out, Gale being a gentleman to the last, but Julie glowed and wept under the obtuse assurance anyway.
“I trust you kept him warm.” Julie demands, “Seeing as how it’s your fault he didn’t take his jacket.”
Gale tells her of Egan’s presumptuous bunk sharing, how strange things were happening every day and that grew to be commonplace. At her inquiring look he only blushes and stares down at the water, the bruise on his throat blooming under the flush, and for once Julie thinks she knows Gale Cleven better than his Marge.
#💌asks#blurbs#mine#dear John#masters of the air#mota#john egan fanfiction#Gale Cleven#Gale Cleven fanfic
38 notes
·
View notes
Note
https://www.gbnews.com/royal/kate-middleton-prince-louis-birthday-picture-royal-family-news
“The couple eventually posted a new photograph in the afternoon, despite having traditionally provided it to the press under an embargo the day before.”
I’m new to the whole process of how the birthday pictures are shared, but from the online articles (especially the above one), it seems to me that the Wales’ circumvented providing it directly to the press this time and only published the picture themselves on social media. If so, good for them!
Hopefully, the media has FAFO’d. And GB News may be salty, but they have no one to blame but themselves.
So how the birthday photos work is that usually the afternoon before a birthday (or a milestone anniversary or a new baby photo), William and Kate will send the picture out to the newspapers/photo agencies/media organizations with an embargo not to release before a certain time. This "certain time" has traditionally been around 10pm London time, which is usually when the UK morning newspapers "go to bed" - i.e., the layout/content is finalized and sent to the printers and the electronic copies are published to the internet/posted on social media.
Because of the time difference (10pm London is 5pm East Coast and 2pm West Coast), American social media tends to make the new pictures go viral on our side of the internet while the rest of the world is asleep. This is why you may have seen some American blogs cheering on Monday afternoon - the UK papers went to print without new photos of Louis for his birthday on the Tuesday front pages.
So then on the day of the actual birthday/anniversary, Kensington Palace will post their "Happy birthday to Kiddo" message with their original photo first thing in the morning to coincide with the locals waking up/reading their morning news. A few hours later, usually around their lunchtime/early afternoon, Kensington Palace does a "thank you for the happy messages" post with a second photo.
What happened this week with Louis's birthday is that Kensingon Palace did not provide the newspapers, photo agencies, media orgs with a new photo of Louis for his birthday. According to Rebecca English, this is because William and Kate didn't want to share photos because either a) it felt hypocritical after spending January through March begging for privacy or b) how the press treated them over the Mother's Day photo and Kate's video message.
But something happened, William and Kate changed their minds about not sharing the photo and decided to post one anyway. They posted the new photo straight to their own social media first, before then sending it out to the news and media organizations.
Why they changed their minds, we don't know. Maybe their office got too many phone calls about it. Maybe their staff reported on all the social media tributes. Maybe there was a ton of mail/birthday cards delivered for Louis. We know that they probably intended to share new photos. You don't have a photoshoot with young kids for the heck of it. My theory is they did the photos, someone got cold feet about sharing photos after what happened last month, and they were on the fence about it until they saw the genuine love, support, and appreciation for Louis (and the family) from the general public.
I'd like to see this being the new MO going forward - pictures released exclusively to their social media first, then circulated to the media (or forcing the media to use the social media copy exclusively). We won't really know till Charlotte's birthday next week if this was a one-off or truly a change in how they handle the media.
On that note...I do kinda feel like we might be getting an anniversary picture this year. With Kate's health issues, they may feel like an anniversary picture would comfort people who are worried about her, and it may be how they thank the public for their support and well wishes. Of course, the caveat being that Kate has felt well enough to be photographed/appear on camera.
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 2
Marvel
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes
Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.
Chapter Summary: Bucky doesn't need to know how to print a photo, but he needs to know why his dead soulmate is in the one he's looking at.
Chapter Warning: Mentions of death, sad Bucky. Mentions of vomiting.
Bucky felt like his stomach was going to full out his ass. He slowly rose from picking up the photo, feeling like he’d met his stomach on the way back up.
“How?” He asked, voice breaking as he spoke.
“How what James?” Asked Wanda, brow furrowed as she picked up on his distress.
“How? The photo? How?”
“Wanda took the photo on her phone, it was then sent by a wireless connection to the printer. Would you like us to show you how it works?” replied Vision.
“It’s not that Vis, I don’t think? James?”
Bucky felt his confusion boil over into anger. Did the synthezoid really think he didn’t know how to print a picture? He’d lived in Wakanda, the most advanced country in the world for a year and these idiots think he can’t work a damn printer and a phone.
“Not the damn phone! The photo! How do you have a photo? A photo of her?!?” Bucky’s frustration aimed at Wanda. Vision not taking too kindly to his raised voice being aimed at Wanda, stepped towards him, placing himself slightly in front of her.
“Sergeant Barnes, I’m going to ask you to calm down.”
“Vis, it’s Ok.” She replied stepping around him “James, the photograph? She looks like someone you know?”
Wanda didn’t really need to ask. Bucky’s stoic behaviour usually caused him to block his emotions and feelings from Wanda reading him but now they were fully on show and streaming out of him. She couldn’t not see them. A reaction like this meant one thing. Soulmates.
Bucky nodded tears beginning to rundown his cheeks.
“How do you have this? How do you have her on a photo?”
“Her? Who do you think this is?” She asked pointing at the woman in the photo with herself and Nat.
“She's ours. She’s my soulmate. Our soulmate.” He answered.
Even with his super soldier hearing, so caught up in seeing his lost soulmate, Bucky was oblivious that the rest of the team were now standing behind him. Including Steve.
“What? Buck what are you talking about?” Asked Steve.
Bucky turned towards Steve his hand shaking as he passed him the photo.
“How is this possible? How?”
Natasha’s eyes caught a glimpse of the photo he was holding, discreetly side eyeing Wanda who nodded.
“Anyone want to bring me up to speed here?” asked Tony, trying to catch a glimpse of the photo. Bruce did the same, recognising all of the people pictured immediately.
“Well, that’s Natasha, that’s Wanda and that’s…..wait what’s going on? When did you meet her?” Bruce asked Steve.
“Okay, well I’m no more informed with Bruce’s explanation. Ladies want to enlighten us?”
Nobody answered as Steve headed towards Wanda, eyeing her stack her photos.
“Do you have more?”
Wanda nodded, flicking through the others and pulling out another picture. The same figure this time front and centre, holding a stick of candyfloss. Grinning like it’s the best thing in the world. Natasha is in the background with an expression that is very Natasha, slight smirk, slight eyebrow raise. Wanda thought it captured both your personalities perfectly.
“Here.” She passed the photo to Steve. He let out a choked sob, pushing the photo toward Bucky, rushing into the bathroom, the sound of heaving heard before the door closed.
Unable to hold his simmering emotions anymore, Bucky sank to the floor, clutching the photo and sobbed.
#steve rogers x reader#avengers au#bucky barnes#steve rogers#bucky barnes x reader#avengers#steve x reader x bucky#soulmate au#avengers soulmate au#steve rogers x reader x bucky
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
All This Time- Chapter 2
cw: trans male pregnancy (past, mentioned), angst, miscommunication, fluff and happy ending
Simon pales and looks up at Johnny who is groaning a little and bending down to pick the small girl up who wriggles out of his grasp and runs to Simon.
“Uh, I’m not your-“ Johnny speaks to Simon for the first time, shouting his name and shaking his head, so Simon manages a smile to the small girl, “So, you’re Elizabeth, huh?”
Johnny manages to grab his daughter and he crouches to her level, talking to her quietly, “Now darling, I know you’re excited and Daddy being here is very exciting but I need you to listen to me now sweetie. Tonight, we’re going to see if you can sleep with Sarah whilst Papa talks with Daddy-
“- I promise first thing that me and Daddy will come and get you and we will spend the day together, I just need to do some grown up talk with Daddy tonight, okay Lizzie?”
She looks like she wants to argue, looking back up at Simon who is still white as a sheet and gawping at the child in shock.
“Daddy will still be here?” She whispers to Johnny.
He places a kiss on her forehead and holds her tightly, hiding his own shocked face in her tiny shoulder, “Of course, love.”
Though when Johnny looks back at Simon, he appears like he might just run away that second.
It takes a lot out of all of them, barely thirty minutes pass from the door knocking to Elizabeth being dropped at their neighbours, but Simon hasn’t spoken since and neither had Johnny.
Johnny kisses Elizabeth’s forehead, pressing her stuffed dinosaur into her arms and leaves her with Sarah, a promise of an explanation in his wake.
Simon is sat on the couch when Johnny returns, staring off at the photo album on the table. The blasted thing is still open on the picture of them both.
Johnny groans and heads into the kitchen, quickly making a cup of tea for Simon in the hopes to ease his anxiety.
He sits on the other side of the chair, after placing the tea on the table, and he mulls everything over in his head.
Johnny isn’t sure if he is angry at Simon or if his heart is aching in pity for him. Sure the base stopped Johnny from ringing but surely they couldn’t stop Simon from calling? Still, finding out you have a daughter like this makes for a difficult conversation.
“I’m sorry.” They both say in unison, surprising one another after their extended silence.
“You’re sorry?” They both say, incredulously before Johnny sighs, chuckles a little, and gestures for Simon to speak.
“I’m sorry I never came sooner. Or got in touch. I see now that you were busy. Very busy by the looks of things.” He chuckles weakly.
“I tried to get in touch. I rang every week to talk like we were doing but I was blocked from calling the base. Was told that I needed to lose the number since I no longer work there.”
Simon looks incredulous, “You what? By who?”
“The receptionist and the General. I even pretended to be someone else so I could get through to you or Price but they threatened me with legal action.” Johnny explains.
“What the fuck? Y-you were trying to reach us? I thought you’d moved on, gotten fed up of me or whatever and didn’t want to hear from me anymore.” Simon pales even further. Johnny thinks he’s almost transparent.
“I sent letters too,” Johnny says, reaching for the box and fishing out the letters still in their envelopes with the offending ‘Return to Sender’ sign printed on the front.
“They really didn’t want me talking to you, I guess.”
Simon gestures to the handful of letters, “May I?”
Johnny hands them over, letting Simon pour through the words quickly as he sees the man’s face shatter as he absorbs the words.
“Fuck me.” Simon grumbles, “Fuck! If I’d have just- shit!”
“Simon,” Johnny sighs, “It all seems like a big misunderstanding. An awful lot of miscommunication on both parts, ay?”
“How can you be so calm about this? Y-you did all of this on your own!”
Johnny looks down at the book on the table, a few loose pictures from the box littering the glass surface. His daughters beaming face, barely six months old, smiles back at him and he instinctively smiles back.
“Jesus Johnny you- I let you do all that alone. You fuckin’ had a kid.”
“You didn’t let me do anything, Simon. Like I say, it’s just miscommunication.”
“It’s more than miscommunication when it causes shit like this! I swear to fuck I’m going to rip that General a new one when I next see him.” Simon fumes, squeezing a letter in his hands.
“Si, calm down,” Johnny shuffles closer, “I know it’s a lot to take in and you’re probably angry and upset but it’s okay. I’m not angry with you. Elizabeth isn’t angry with you either.”
“Elizabeth,” Simon mumbles, eyes meeting Johnny’s, “Her name- is it?”
Johnny nods, “After your mum. And a little bit for Beth too, I suppose.”
Simon nods and feels his heart clenching in his chest, “She called me.. she said I’m her-”
“You are.” Johnny mumbles, “There’s been no one since you, Simon.”
He nods again and looks to the book on the table, the picture of him and Johnny right there. He picks it up and looks at it intently.
“So you’ve told her all about me?”
Johnny nods, “She looks at the picture every day. Always asking about you. I told her the truth, that you’re busy at war and fighting to protect her from bad guys.”
Simon turns the page to the front, the picture of baby Elizabeth there with her birth date and time beneath it in the arms of Johnny in a hospital bed.
“October,” Simon chuckles, thumb running over the silky photo, “Near mine.”
Simon’s birthday is November the 6th, very close to Elizabeth’s, whereas Johnny’s is May the 17th, much further away.
“She looks a lot like you,” Johnny says, “Sometimes when I- when I miss you I grab ahold of her and hold her tight. Won’t let her go.”
“She’s beautiful,” Simon muses, “And you are incredible, Johnny. Fuckin’ ‘ell you gave birth.”
Johnny chuckles, “Well, I was cut open. She was an emergency C-Section. She was stuck and the chord was wrapped around her throat. They thought she might choke herself so they whipped her out the top.”
Johnny lifts his shirt, a faded pale pink scar runs along the base of his stomach, “Didn’t get her out before making me sit there in pain for sixteen hours. They tried to move her around too, with their hands up me, but she was a stubborn one.”
“Like me?”
Johnny laughs, “Yeah, just like you.”
“If it’s okay with you then,” Simon whispers, “After we’ve talked some more, of course, I would like to properly meet her.”
Johnny beams wide, nodding, “Of course, Si. I’ll tell you all about her.”
Johnny sits there for the next three hours. He pours through the photo album with Simon, making comment and talking about their daughter.
Their daughter. Johnny was losing hope on that front, often dreaming of the day that Elizabeth could be introduced as ‘our daughter’ rather than just his own.
Maybe the time is now.
#call of duty#ghostsoap#mw2#mw2 2022#soapghost#family#ghost#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#soap#trans man#trans mpreg
87 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m not an artist, but I just saw some people sharing the end credit art from Willow, and it made me wonder if people would want copies posters I made for my room using the end credit art.
I don’t really know how to use photo editing apps, so I just took screenshots of the credits (I had to combine 3 different Jades, since they were all so blurry 🤦♀️), sent them to my phone to remove the backgrounds, send them back to my computer to use Lunapic to play with colors/saturation/transparency/contrast etc., and then compiled them in Google Slides. 😂
All credit to Ken Taylor, who did the art for Willow.
I have pdfs for you to print them as full size posters, if you would like them, just private message me.
🥰
#willow (2022)#willow disney+#tanthamore#airk tanthalos#jade claymore#kit tanthalos#thraxus boorman#elora danan#willow ufgood#graydon hastur#willow 2022
48 notes
·
View notes
Text
LINK: A Robin's Song - Epilogue
A/N: i regret nothing >:)
Five Years Later
‘Deadline at 12:00 AM tonight, Kent.’ Jon fumbled with his keys, reading the email his boss had sent out and unlocking the door.
It opened to a small apartment, empty, with some photos spread around, and a framed Bachelor’s degree over the couch.
He dropped his briefcase on the kitchen counter, briefly tripping over a child’s toy. He sighed and picked up, setting it next to the briefcase.
The fridge was littered with pictures, a mix of hand drawn and printed ones. Jon stepped out, checking the clock on the wall before settling down on the couch. He had about an hour before he needed to go out again.
A sticky note was on his phone cover as he pulled it out and he played with it, briefly considering calling the number written on it. It was from some pink-haired guy in his chem lecture who’d given it to him a few hours ago.
He pulled it off and set it next to the picture frame holding a picture of his high school years, gaze lingering a bit too long on the figure next to him.
Where would he be now? Surely, if he had made it big, Jon would have heard his name somewhere.
He shook his head, trying to rid himself of this train of thought. But, after all, who could forget their first true love?
The phone lit up with a notification, and he swiped up, eyes brightening as he clicked on the banner.
It took him to a Q&A livestream of ROBIN, the only good thing he could remember from his last semester of high school that wasn’t tainted by memories of her, or painfully sweet scenes with the other half of his childhood.
Robin had on an oddly familiar green knit sweater and his usual green domino, and was smiling as he answered a fan’s question, a voice modulator over his normal talking voice.
“The domino mask was originally for anonymity, although now it's more of a trademark. If I do end up going to a concert, I might reveal my real face to you guys. Thanks for the question!”
Jon’s brow was furrowed, something felt oddly out of place in a way none of it had before. Robin chatted about various new songs he’d released, and then gave a sneak peek to his new one, per the chat’s request.
“This one’s sort of a throwback to my first song, which I'm sure most of you know very well. It’s titled If Only You Knew, and it…it’s really close to my heart, for reasons I'm sure you understand.”
A message popped up in the chat, other people latching onto it and repeating it, the chat a chorus of “Tell us about Heather!”
The soft chuckle sounded painful on video, and Jon leaned into his phone curiously, wanting to know himself. This song had come out after he’d let his own unrequited feelings bleed out, covering them up with new feelings for someone who returned them, and he’d listened to it more then he’d like to admit.
The filters came off the video, including the voice modulator.
“If I'm telling this story, I'd like to tell it as myself. Not with Robin’s voice.”
Some unbridled feeling of shock and fear cause Jon to gasp aloud and drop his phone, the familiar voice, deeper now with a note of tiredness, washed over him, jolting him back to high school, back to middle school, back even to elementary and that little town he’d grown up in.
Long forgotten memories dug themselves up and flooded his brain without his consent, tears he hadn't realized he was shedding dripped from his chin as he shakily picked up the phone and stared at who he had thought was long gone from his life.
He zeroed back in as Robin’s, no, Damian’s voice recounted the journey of his music, the way every single song had come from a moment that he’d experienced, or that they’d experienced together.
It was like reliving the whole experience through eyes that weren’t his own, tears pooling on his cheeks.
“After we…After I screwed everything over, he moved. I remember chasing after the stupid moving van and calling and calling and calling until I finally realized he blocked me.”
On-screen, he turned around and removed the domino, wiping his eyes, before plastering it back on and turning to his camera.
“I was a mess, for a little while. I won’t get into details, but it was not a fun time. I got help and stuff, and well, you guys know the rest.”
The chat was overflowing with messages, but the one that caught Jon’s eye was one that said “Do you miss him?”
It was selfish but he turned up the volume, desperate for an answer. He wanted to know as much as the rest of the fans, biting his lip until a metallic taste filled his mouth.
On screen, Damian inhaled deeply, eyes shut and voice wobbling. “In answer to Haylia_1654's question…yes. I miss him very much, and to this day I wish everything had gone much differently.”
“He was one half of my childhood, and I know that he’s doing well, as his little brother stayed close with one of mine. I wish him nothing but happiness, wherever he is and whoever he’s with.”
Jon’s chest was tight, the air being sucked out of his lungs with every little inhale.
His vision blurred, and before he realized what he was doing, he was typing out words onto the screen and sending them into the live chat.
Under the little diamond ‘S’ he’d made when he was in middle school to match Damian's ‘R’, and the username Jon_Kent, were the words “I miss you too”.
Desperation filled him and he repeated the message several dozen times, watching and waiting for Damian to take notice.
On-screen, the boy was drinking from a water bottle, and Jon silently documented the exact moment his eyes landed on the message, water spat out onto the screen as his whited-out eyes moved from side to side, re-reading the messages until the rest of the frantic chat covered them up.
“Oh my God, oh my God, please, please, please-” A flash of green knocked the phone to the floor and the last the world saw of “Robin” that day were the black tennis shoes he was wearing, stream cutting off as the camera hit the floor.
Heart pounding in his chest, Jon clicked on the profile, finger hovering over the message button.
He had long ago unblocked Damian’s old number, only to find that it was no longer in service.
Logically, this was the only way that they could get in contact. And he wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to, wished for best friend back, the now-stranger who knew all his secrets.
He trembled in his seat, clicking the button and watching the words telling him he’d started a new DM with ROBIN_Offical.
Taking a deep breath, he typed out a short message, waiting for the response bubbles to come dancing across his screen.
Jon_Kent
Hey, D
Missed you.
ROBIN_Offical is typing…
#damian wayne#jondami#jon kent#a robin's song#jonathan kent#jonathan samuel kent#supersons#unrequited love#nothing too heavy this time#reverse robins#musician au#no capes au#batkids age reversal#a ROBIN mixtape
24 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! Please don’t be freaked out that I essentially just stalked your blog? Emoji ask game, if you feel like it <3
😈💖🧐
Finding that someone has trawled through my blog is honestly the highlight of being on this hellsite (affectionate). It fills me with such unbridled joy. Having said that, my brain holds memories worse than a sieve holds water so I cannot for the life of me remember anything I post or reblog, as such the ask game is a mystery. By way of apology I shall pop on your doormat a fic like a cat would present a carefully hunted leaf.
Technically the Truth
The perk of Geralt dating Jaskier was that Lambert and Eskel met Cahir. How exactly Geraly ended up dating a popstar was beyond understanding but his makeup artist was a perk for sure, even if they couldn't visit him quite as they wanted to. Cahir had two dogs which, at first, had been a delight for Lambert and Eskel. Alas, they couldn't meet them. Being rescues with a gnarly past, they were distrustful of new people already and fiercely protective of Cahir. Add in their size and the stereotypes of their breed, Cahir did not take any risks. It didn't stop him sending pictures of the dogs in various ridiculous situations, Lambert's favourite was perhaps the one involving duck printed onesies, caps and, for some hitherto unknown reason, a pacifier.
Introductions were slowly made, meeting on a walk. Treats only worked to some extent as a form of bribery and buying the dogs' favour. While out and about, things were fine. But when home, it was a bit of a different matter. Still, they worked hard and finally both Lambert and Eskel were accepted and welcome visitors in Cahir's home.
For a makeup artist, Cahir sure seemed exclusive. He toured with Jaskier and his manager, Fringilla. There were very few other clients he worked with, Essi was one of them and, with some disdain from Jaskier, he also occasionally worked for Valdo. But mostly he was not only Jaskier's makeup artist but also confidant. Tours were one thing but Cahir also tagged along to trips, interviews, appearances. The biggest honour was when he asked Lambert and Eskel to take care of his dogs for a couple of weeks.
It was no hardship really. The first week flew by, they sent Cahir photos and got brief messages in return. Whatever it was Jaskier was filming (possibly a music video?), it was keeping Cahir busy. The second week they heard even less from Cahir. By the end of it he had seemingly dropped off the face of the planet. Worried, Eskel questioned whether Jaskier had been in touch with Geralt. Finding out he was home already made something twist cruelly in his chest. To make matters worse, at the end of the two weeks Fringilla was the one to appear, taking the dogs with her. House and hearts empty, Lambert and Eskel were at a loss.
Things didn't get better. Though it wasn't a comfort, Geralt started spending more time with them, seeming to sulk. It all came tumbling out after a few beers.
"I miss him," Geralt grumbled.
"Who?"
"Jask." The word was scoffed as if it should have been obvious.
Eskel rubbed his nose. "Isn't he home? Shit. You aren't having troubles too, are you?"
Shaking his head, Geralt knocked back the last dregs of his drink. "No. He's got these damn dogs living with him. Something about a will or some shit."
"Why's that an issue? You're Mr. Animals Guy. Let me guess, they're tiny teacup yappers?" It was nigh on impossible to hide the bitterness in Lambert's voice.
"I wish. Two big bastards, he says they're friendly once you know them. But fuck, they keep growling and snarling."
Lambert and Eskel shared a glance. It was Eskel who spoke up. "Geralt, listen to me very carefully. You said will, right? And these dogs, they big, one is brown and white, cropped ears, the other is solid grey, missing an ear and has scars on his neck? Called Peaches-"
"-and Fuzzles," Geralt finished, frowning. "How the fuck did you know?"
"Cahir." Voice barely more than a broken whisper, Eskel leaned against Lambert, trying to hide his breaking heart. "What the fuck happened?"
Anger was easier than grief and Lambert gave into it. Face twisted into a scowl, he squeezed Eskel's hand in his. "We have some questions for your boyfriend. How dare he not tell us?"
"Tell you what?!"
"We're paying him a visit right now. And making sure Peaches and Fuzzles are happy."
Just like that Lambert was up and grabbing his shoes, not caring that it was late or that they'd all had drinks. The taxi took them to Jaskier's without a hitch and he angrily jammed his finger on the buzzer. Familiar twin howls went up. After what felt like an age, Jaskier cracked the door open.
"What? It's a bit late and I'm not up for guests."
Pushing at the door, Lambert stuck a foot in. "Let us see them. And you better tell us why the hell you have Cahir's dogs."
Whatever it was that Jaskier saw in them, he stepped back, allowing them to barge in.
"They're in the garden," he said and gestured in the general direction. "Just-" breaking off, he shrugged, "-be gentle, okay? It's been rough."
Not really caring about Jaskier's woes, Lambert was hurrying to get to the dogs, Eskel hot on his heels. Only, the dogs weren't alone in the garden. The first thing that gave it away was the glowing cherry of a deep cigarette drag. A dark, familiar sihlouette was huddled on the bench, dogs by his feet.
"Cahir?!" Lambert near enough screeched. His determined march was only cut short by the deep growl of one of the dogs. It slowed him down enough to collect himself. "You have a lot of explaining."
The outside light came on and Eskel caught Lambert as he staggered back. Bruised, tired eyes stared up at them as Cahir took a moment to gather himself.
"Hey." Even his voice was wrecked, hoarse and scratchy.
"Is that all you have to say?" This time Eskel was the one to finally snap. "You fall off the face of the earth, Geralt tells us Jaskier has your dogs because if was in your will. And all this time you weren't dead?"
"You prefer if I was?"
"No!" Lambert's outburst drew another growl and Cahir tutted at Peaches.
Stubbing out his cigarette, Cahir pushed to stand, movements stiff. "Things went tits up. I'll call it in then explain inside."
In the end Jaskier was the one who made some mysterious call. He returned to the living room where Geralt, Lambert and Eskel were on a sofa while Cahir was in an armchair, dogs by his feet. Sitting down, Jaskier groaned.
"So, we may not have been completely liberal with the truth. Technically I am a popstar and Cahir my makeup artist. But, uh, that's a cover. We work, or rather, I do and Cahir used to work for the intelligence agency. I could get us places, Cahir had the time to do the work while I distracted."
Lambert laughed and the others looked at him like he had grown a second head.
"What? You don't believe this bullshit?" He stared at Eskel and Geralt, face falling. "Oh shit. You do." In the light of the living room it was much easier to make out the bruises on Cahir's skin, the shape of a brace around his knee under sweatpants, the sling which he had a knack for slipping his arm out of. A little weakly, Lambert added, "I just thought Cahir was too embarrassed to tell us he fell down some stairs or something."
"I wish," Cahir huffed.
"You rest your throat," Jaskier interrupted and took over. "That would be a nicer thing to recover from. Cahir's been staying with me since he was released from hospital. For obvious reasons we can't tell you how he was injured. He needs to rest-" here, he gave Cahir a pointed look, "-and not smoke."
"Bite me."
"In the interest of his health and recovery, it was deemed best he stay with me until he could be on his own again."
"Meaning?" Eskel didn't like the sound of that.
"Physical and mental rehabilitation," Cahir spat with disdain. "Company mandated. Will have some lovely scars and nightmares."
"Cahir," hesitant suspicion laced Eskel's voice, "are you being kept here against your will?"
The bark of a laugh turned into a coughing fit that left Cahir red in the face with tear streaks down his cheeks. "Just can't be alone. Jaskier knows the drill. Not for civilians."
"Do you still want us?" Eskel pushed on and next to him, Lambert sat up a little straighter.
"Don't think you'll want me after this."
"Come home with us." It was Lambert who said it, half a command, half a plea. "Peaches and Fuzzles too."
A long look was shared between Cahir and Jaskier who not so subtly shook his head. Taking a deep breath, Cahir nodded and offered the other two a small smile.
"That sounds nice. I'd like that."
#lambert/eskel/cahir#eskel x lambert x cahir#eskel#lambert#cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach#jaskier#geralt of rivia#the witcher#tldr: secret agenting goes wrong
13 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
ayyaztech
AyyazTech
desidarling123
Desi Darling
ayyaztech
AyyazTech
nanaminhae
skam . young royals . hannibal . kpop . fanart
ayyaztech
AyyazTech