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strawhbrrries · 8 months

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Invisible String.

pairing: older brother's best friend!frank castle x reader

summary: all along there was some invisible string tying you to frank castle.

warnings: none, just lots of sweetness!!!

word count: 1267 words

author’s note: this version of frank is so ken from barbie where it's like "ken's day was good as long as barbie looked at him" and i love it, listen to invisible string by taylor swift to get the full experience.

Were there clues I didn’t see?

Frank’s eyes scanned your face, watching the way your nose scrunched when you laughed so hard it was silent and water was streaming down your face and the campfire in front of you warmed your face. He’d spent every single day since the two of you had met admiring you, watching your heart get broken from every guy you brought home, being the shoulder you could count on when all of your friends inevitability flaked out. He could count all the times he tried to express his feelings on one hand, backing out at the last moment each and every time.

“What are you staring at? Weirdo.” You teased, scrunching your nose in the very way he found irresistible, making a face at him and turning back to the rest of your friend group.

You loved Frank, more than any friend should love their best friend. You’d lost count of how many nights you’d spent crying to your mom over the phone, wondering why he just didn’t like you back and asking what you did to deserve this torture from the universe.

“Nothing.” He smiled back, catching the eye of your friend across the fire, taking a sip of the beer in his hand. He never tried to hide his affection for you, never tried to make it a secret to anyone but you, he was fully aware that everyone around the two of you was most likely aware of the crush he had on you.

Were there clues I didn’t see?

Frank was your, slightly, older brother’s best friend. He’d been around for as long as you could remember, in almost every photograph there was of you or your brother since your mom started printing photos out. But he never had that older brother feel that a lot of your brother’s friends had, it wasn’t that he was unreliable or careless. He was the opposite. He cared more than any of your brother’s friends normally did. Sure, they’d come to your rescue if a boy hurt you or if you needed a ride somewhere or if you just needed a pick me up.

Frank was different. He cared. If the boys were going out to dinner he almost always picked up something for you on the way back, the only times he didn’t was in respect for the girl he was seeing at the time. He’d slip a twenty in the pocket of the jacket you always wore if he knew you needed some extra money, or if he knew you needed cheering up. Even if he didn’t have a job he always did it, and he never regretted it. To him, what he thought was, unrequited love wasn’t an issue. He’d cross every ocean and move every mountain and act like it was the easiest thing to do, all just to get a hint of a smile aimed towards him.

Frank was only two years older than you, well technically two years and one day, and he’d never let you forget it. He’d tell you to respect your elders and you’d shoot back that he was definitely an elder and that you could see the gray hairs coming in. The day you were born your mom told his that you two were destined for each other, she swore she could tell just by the way the two year old held your fraile, hours old body. His mom would tell you on every birthday you were just one more year closer to becoming a Castle girl, telling you how you’d make the prettiest one too. You always rolled your eyes and thanked her for whatever she had gotten you that year.

Were there clues I didn’t see?

“Your mom keeps lecturing me on how to treat women, she acts like I’m whoring myself out like your brother is.” He rolled his eyes, washing the dishes in the sink. None of which were his, considering he was in your house at midnight doing the chores you’d been putting off for awhile.

“She just cares, Frankie.” You mumbled back, legs swinging as they hung off the counter next to the sink, watching him scrub at the residue left on a pan you should’ve definitely cleaned the same day you used it.

You’d graduated college a few months ago, gotten the job of your dreams and yet felt so unfulfilled. You knew why. He was standing in your kitchen complaining about your mom, dish towel swung over his shoulder and shaggy hair pulled back by a headband you demanded he put on before he got stuff in his hair. Ever since you’d moved to this apartment he’d been over pretty much everyday, it felt odd without his presence in the house, it felt lonely without him.

“I tell her every time, I only want one woman.” He responded, catching your eye as he took the towel off his shoulder to dry the dish he just washed.

“So tell the girl, there’s no use telling me about it if you haven’t told her.” Your heart felt heavy, no matter how many times he’d tried to hint at you that he was in love with you it just never clicked, it might as well had come out of your ass and slid across the floor with a giant sign proclaiming your love for him.

“It’s you.”

Isn’t it just so pretty to think…

“Mom it’s just an anniversary, there really isn’t a need to bring the whole family here. It’s just dinner.” You explained, not knowing she knew more than you.

The ring was in his pocket, lighting it on fire, burning a hole right through the fabric. Frank’s mind couldn’t comprehend that this was happening, it was really happening, after years of pining after you he was going to propose.

All along there was some…

The day had finally come, you’d worked your ass off to get everything perfect and exactly the way you wanted it to be. Teenage you couldn’t believe you were standing here, actually about to become a Castle girl. You weren’t sure how both moms knew it was destined to be but you were glad they did, there wasn’t anyone else in the entire world you’d rather be doing this with.

“I can still remember the first time your mom told me I was destined to be a Castle girl, I had rolled my eyes and scoffed like that was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. Why on earth would I want to marry my brother’s best friend? That seemed like torture. As the years went by it became something I couldn’t help but dream about, wondering how our relationship would come to be and if you had the intricate proposal I wanted down to the finest details. Every time you brought a girlfriend around, I hated you. Not really, but as much as a teenager full of angst and the world's largest crush on her brother’s best friend could muster. Then you matured, stopped bringing girls around and paid more attention to me. But you never made a move, I thought I was destined to be the little sister forever. But then, that one night in my kitchen you were complaining about how my mom kept lecturing you about how to treat women and you confessed your feelings. Stopped washing my dishes and gave me a kiss, it was surreal. Comparable to the ending of a coming-of-age movie. You’ve been around my whole life, Frankie, and all along there was some invisible string tying you to me.”

#maddies fics #frank castle #jon bernthal #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #the punisher #frank castle imagine #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle headcanons #frank castle x female reader #taylor swift #jon bernthal x you #jon bernthal fluff #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal imagine #jon bernthal fanfiction #the punisher fic #the punisher fanfiction

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scarletttries · 1 year

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Roman Roy x Age-Gap! Reader Headcanons:

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader

Word Count: 2k (warning: mention of Logany child abuse)

Author’s Note: Oh Roman Roy, you're really making me fall in love with your sad little face and your slightly softening heart this season. Thank you for this request, please enjoy these thoughts about Roman Roy with a younger, but still very much legal adult, reader. Also please fill my inbox with Kendall and Roman requests because I am thinking about little else! 😊

Update! Part two here 😀

- Roman Roy has always felt simultaneously like he's never really grown up, and that he was never allowed to be a child. Growing up as the youngest son of Logan Roy he wasn't allowed the chance to make the silly mistakes of childhood folly. Logan had been through that before and frankly he needed Roman to be a serious adult from the moment he could comprehend his father's disapproving glare. Naturally this was an impossible ask of a small, sensitive boy, and led to blows to back of the head when tears threatened to stain the silk shirt he'd been so uncomfortably forced into for another endless press event where he stood like a prop, just desperate not to get in any more trouble or let his dad down worse than he already had.

- As Roman entered adulthood he began to be left out of all the rooms where serious people met and talked about things he could never quite get right; he's wasn't self-interested enough, he didn't have those killer instincts, he couldn't rid his head of the thoughts of how many people would be affected by the company's every move. As Logan and Kendall started to tire of his quippy comments, relegating him to waiting outside for busy work, he could feel himself struggling to meet the thresholds of adulthood that Ken seemed to have carried with him for as long as Roman could remember. This dichotomy of boy and man left Roman feeling like he was never quite comfortable with his age, unsure what lense to see that number through. And then he met you.

- Getting a job at Waystar may have left you feeling a little morally uncomfortable, but you reminded yourself that ten years experience there and you'd be able to get any job in any industry you like, while also being able to pay for your own place. So you pushed that feeling down each day as you entered that office full of rich old white men. Given you'd actually had to earn your place there, rather than just knowing someone, it wasn't long until your work ethic, intelligence and ingenuity had you climbing the corporate ladder in your department and getting you noticed by some of the much higher-ups. Naturally they tried to just take credit for your work, but when the day came that Logan actually asked for an explanation of a report you'd produced, Frank had no choice but to put you in a room with the big boss face-to-face.

- You'd heard nothing but bad things about Logan Roy and as he stared at you in pure contempt while you answered his questions, wondering why his time was being wasted with this young thing from the bullpen, it took all your resolve to hold your nerve, giving short answers and trying not to give him anything to hold over you. Every so often you'd let your eyes flick over his shoulder to the man standing behind him, ten years older than you but pulling at the sleeves of his shirt like a little kid as he watched you face the interrogation, outwardly seeming far more nervous about the situation than you did. After fifteen minutes of watching you hold your head high and speak so confidently about your work, Roman was staring at you unashamedly in a mix of awe, intrigue and disbelief. Despite the age gap you seemed to have all the facets of a self-assured adult that he felt he'd never quite unlocked, while exuding the joyful exuberance of youth he'd never been allowed. He needed to know more about you, so when Logan shouted at Gerri to 'throw you in a dress and bring to this week's investor mixers' he could feel his heart pounding in his chest at the sheer hope and possibility of the answers you might hold.

- You weren't thrilled to spend your evenings surrounded by colleagues, stood to attention in case anyone needed a question answering, but you didn't hate the full railing of designer evening wear that had been sent to your apartment for the occasion. You found yourself trying to blend into the shadows of a corner, unsure of your place in this room and this crowd, wondering if any of the food on display was actually for eating, or if that would be seen as a massive faux pas. Luckily Roman had been keeping an interested eye on you all evening; who you'd spoken to, what you'd been dressed in, the frankly adorable face you'd pulled when Frank handed you a Whiskey twice your age and you took a very unwilling sip, feigning appreciation before slinking away to stick your tongue out at the burning taste. And finally he built up the nerve to approach you now that you were alone, trying to approach casually by picking up a grape from the ornate platter beside you, only to take a bite, realise it was plastic and having to hand it mortified to a waiter that had watched the whole thing from your side. He could feel the blood burning in his cheeks as he watched you try and stifle a laugh, both mortified that you already knew he was a fool and pleased that he'd been able to bring a smile to your face this evening.

"Yeah yeah fuck you." He laughed as he stopped just in front of you, all the words he'd planned to share failing him now that he was close enough to see the beauty in your sincere smile as you shook your head,

"Really I should thank you, now I'm one step closer to figuring out what's actually edible here." You replied with a warmth that almost made Roman recoil, so used to the icy chill he usually received from those around him.

"Well certainly not that whiskey." He nodded to the short crystal glass you'd been trying to put down since Frank handed it to you, tone sarcastic but without the cutting edge he was usually one to deliver. "Why is that the one thing these old fucks actually like to be their own age?" As you laughed again Roman felt a little victorious, he had set himself a pretty low bar but he was confident he was going to be the highlight of your evening.

- As you spent the next week being dragged to different events, you'd always find Roman slinking to your side before the night was through, as if you'd always been old friends, just counting down the hours of everyone else's company. You'd counter his one-liners and then ask him where he'd rather be on a Friday night and make him realise he didn't really know any other kind of night. So when you'd list off your weekend plans, and hobbies and interests, and tell him stories about your friends that had his hyena laugh echoing across the otherwise solemn room, he'd start to realise just how much he was missing out on, and how much he wanted to explore that with you as his guide.

- It stopped being enough, just finding you on odd evenings. Roman would start finding your desk at Waystar, pretending to just be wandering through a junior office coincidentally. He'd glance at his wrist, ignoring the fact he'd forgotten to put on a watch this morning, and comment that as 'technically kind of your boss' he needed to make sure his best employees were actually taking a lunch break, and also were you hungry? Sometimes during the day he'd just melt onto the floor beside your desk, chatting about nothing as you tried your best to type and pay him the attention he so desperately craved. He'd start having all of his meetings in the rooms on your floor so he could wave at you as he walked past the huge glass windows keeping your team contained, an apt metaphor for the walls up inside him he was worried you'd never cross.

- Poor insecure Roman, he'd really try and force himself to ask you out, but ultimately he'd be so afraid of the potential backlash of rejection, that it would be up to you to finally ask if he wanted to grab a drink after work, one Friday when he'd been particularly clingy. You'd take him to a fun, casual bar and watch his eye's light up at people playing darts or ordering fried food and generally the nice, relaxed atmosphere where he didn't feel he had to be the smartest person in the room. Occasionally a friend of yours would walk in a wave and ask how you were doing, and you'd introduce Roman as your friend with no shame or regret and he'd say something funny and get the same rush of pride at making you laugh that he did the first time, and he'd feel like maybe the more time he spent getting to know you, the better he could see himself, still young at heart but not the kid he once was. His lost childhood and misspent youth given a second chance as you offered to see him again next weekend.

- Once you open the affectionate floodgates Roman would be the clingiest koala you can imagine. He'd rarely be as direct as holding your hand, especially not in public, conscious of looking just like his father with a younger woman on his arm. But in the privacy of your little apartment, the one Roman fell in love with the moment he saw it, he'd take a slightly threadbare throw and toss it over the both of you as he all but crumbled into your lap when he wanted to talk about something he thought would make you run. Opening up about his father's wrath and his warped view of himself, glancing up periodically to check you hadn't ran away and left him behind, finding softness in your eyes instead of disappointment and sinking even more deeply into you.

- Roman would think you are an absolute fucking genius for everything you've done for yourself. Worked hard to be the best at your job? Genius. Manage your own bills and do your own laundry? Genius. Carry a water bottle around and make him drink some when he has a headache and somehow he feels better than he has in years? Genius.

- Roman would follow you to hell and back, but you'll have to forcibly remove him from your apartment when you want to go outside. He's never been somewhere that actually felt like home, every soft furnishing and mismatched bowl making him want to haunt your halls forever. If you ever make him a home cooked meal, he'll act like it's not a big deal, but honestly he's crying inside that anyone would go through the effort for him, and that he was the person they chose to be around. Cut to him going thrifting with you to buy five new dishes for you to cook in next time, plus anything else you like.

- Occasionally you'll successfully get him outside for a hike, or a walk, or even a day at a museum or arcade; and Roman will go full toddler on you. Pointing at everything excitedly, running around and shrieking, making sure he was your undivided attention and dragging you by the hand to look at everything. By the time you're home you're ready to collapse, only to notice Roman surreptitiously placing a little souvenir somewhere on your shelf, sneakily bought from a gift shop while you were in the bathroom, before pretending he has no idea how it got there.

- Roman is so enraptured by the incredible, rounded human-being that you are, that eventually some of your self-belief would start to rub off on him, making him feel more sure of himself than he ever has before. Thinking less about the approval of others (except you, he still desperately wants that), feeling confident in his ideas, and no longer feeling like he's stuck in Peter Pan mode - despite falling for someone ten years his junior, Roman would finally feel like he was becoming the man he was always supposed to be, thanks to you.

Let me know if you want a part two of this!

#writing #fanfiction #one shot #requests #roman roy angst #roman roy fluff #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #roman roy #succession imagine #succession hbo #succession #succession headcanons #roman roy headcanons #succession roman

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tulipwrites-sorta · 20 days

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SAL FISHER

general headcanons pt. 2

sally face masterlist | pt. 1

ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ

1. his hair gets tangled a lot under the straps of his prosthetic. keeps a comb in his pocket and hair ties on his wrist.

2. he's so used to having his prosthetic on that he'll sometimes (but rarely) forget to lift it when taking a bite of food. don't worry!! napkins are his best friend lol

3. he didn't particularly choose having a mullet. it was more to manage his prosthetic, but he's learned to love it and now it's his go-to.

4. speaking of hair, he will only let himself or his dad cut his hair since he has to take off his prosthetic.

5. keeps mints/gum on him at all times. his prosthetic makes it to where he can always smell his breath. (bleh)

6. he wants his mtv!! >:(

7. will only smoke a cigarette maybe once or twice a week, but with friends so he doesn't get in over his head.

8. is tired a lot during the day because of staying up all night listening to the radio to record his mixtapes (as stated in part 1).

9. the kit kat jingle lives in his head rent-free. will say it under his breath at random times

10. will play with the wallet chain on his jeans. if you hear jingling, he's right around the corner.

11. "bitchin" "grody" "bogus" "bite me" "as if" "awesome" "booyah!!"

12. total pro at street fighter, but will only play as ken masters.

13. unironically collects lisa frank stickers. larry passed out at his place once and he woke up with his face decorated in stickers.

14. Loves his nail polish, but picks at it so much. you'd be surprised if you saw just the teeniest bit left by the end of the week.

15. won't/can't get facial piercings bc the skin on his scars is still a bit sensitive and the friction against his prosthetic will cause irritiation

ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ

#sally face #sal fisher #sally fisher #larry johnson #ashley campbell #todd morrison #travis phelps #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader #larry johnson x reader #ashley campbell x reader #todd morrison x reader #travis phelps x reader

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theweightofakiteofdreamsingold · 5 months

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Dreams – D. Wagner

Warnings: Explicit sexual content; mature themes; fingering; oral sex (fem receiving); unprotected sex; language; MINORS DNI

A/N: Apologies for being late to the Christmas Party, you guys. I ✨almost✨ abandoned this fic in the swamp, but I’m glad I went back and read it tonight with fresh eyes. Ken’s been trying to get me to finish it for days. Anyways, enjoy a little reunion fic bc late Saturday nights are for Danny smut, apparently (I don’t make the rules).

Bajabule,

-Han

As you moved about the kitchen, straightening the countertops and wiping them down, you found yourself lost in the music that drifted throughout the house. The sound that came from the turntable and speakers in your living room made your entire body feel warm, despite being simply clad in your favorite pair of underwear and one of Danny’s old oversized Christmas sweaters.

You’d decided to get a jump on getting into the Christmas spirit, as you’d found it difficult to do so this year with him and his brothers touring on the other side of the world. The first half of December seemed to have sprinted and crawled by at the same time, and you’d only just put up your Christmas tree and decorations the day before. Today, you focused on making treats for when Danny did come home, which wouldn’t be for another two or three days. Doing all of the decorating and baking did well to change the course of your thoughts, and you took advantage of this.

You mixed ingredients, baked gingerbread cookies, and put together a Christmas simmer pot, all while slowly losing yourself in the silky crooning voice of Frank Sinatra as he sang your favorite holiday classics.

After you’d finished your festivities for the day and cleaned everything up, you decided to trudge up the stairs and settle into bed with a nice, cozy blanket to watch a Christmas movie. After you turned off all the lights, you turned on the TV and flipped through your options. After settling on a movie, you snuggled up in your dimly-lit bedroom and watched the screen until your eyelids grew heavy.

As you closed your eyes and drifted to sleep, you heard the soft, muffled voices from the TV fade as your dreams overtook you.

Your dream started out like the Hallmark movie that was playing on your TV when you fell asleep. You were in a small, cozy cabin in the mountains for the holidays, and Danny was meeting you there. Whenever you arrived first, you went to the nearest store and bought things to bake. On your drive back to the cabin, Christmas music was playing on the radio station you’d tuned in to, and Frank Sinatra’s silky voice wrapped you up again as he slowly sang the first verse to “I’ll Be Home For Christmas.” You hummed along as you pulled up to the cabin and carried your groceries inside.

You put the first set of gingerbread cookies in the oven and set a timer to take them out before you started mixing ingredients to make your second batch. Still humming the song from earlier, you’d just started mixing when you heard the front door open. Excitedly, you turned around, watching as Danny sat his bags down and slipped out of his jacket that was peppered with snow.

You turned back around and continued mixing your batter while you listened to the soft sound of his socks padding across the hardwood floor. You felt him slip his arms around your waist and squeeze you into his frame, his chin resting softly on your shoulder.

“Smells amazing in here. Making my favorite, I see?”

You grinned at him and let out a little giggle. “Of course.”

“You’re so sweet,” he said softly, his hands toying with the hem of your sweater, and tickling the skin on the tops of your bare thighs as he gently swayed the two of you back and forth. You relaxed into him, and he straightened. You looked up at him from below and took in the shape of his face like it was the first time you’d ever seen it; the shape of his nose and lips, the curls in his hair and the tiny flakes of snow that hadn’t managed to melt just yet. He looked down at you and you watched as the sweetest smile slowly spread itself across his face, making the corners of his deep brown eyes crinkle the tiniest bit. He leaned down and met your lips with his, bringing one of his hands up to cup the side of your face.

When he pulled his lips back from you, he kept the tip of his nose touching yours while his eyes softly held your gaze. “I missed you so much, honey,” he said, the pad of his thumb softly skimming over your cheekbone.

“God, I missed you, Danny.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you whined, feeling him press himself into your back.

“Well you don’t have to worry. Because I’m here now, sweetheart.”

You huffed a breath, squeezing your thighs together and holding them.

His hands migrated from your hips at this, and he lifted the hem of your sweater, slowly dipping his hand into your underwear. You sucked in a sharp breath when his skin met yours. “Your hands are freezing!”

“Mm,” he hummed against your ear as he slipped his fingers between your folds. “Sorry,” he chuckled, “you’re so fucking warm I can’t help myself.”

His fingers circled your clit and you moaned, feeling his cock grow harder still behind you. “Fuck, Danny. Keep going,” you said, your breath getting heavier by the second. He did as you asked, and right as you were about to cum, you jolted awake, your chest heaving.

You felt a jolt behind you, making you jolt again, turning your head and your sleepy eyes around to see Danny, eyes-wide, staring back at you from under your blanket.

Lost for words, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and opened them again to still, despite your belief, see Danny sitting beside you in the bed. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice still heavily laced with grogginess from your nap.

“We decided to change our flights at the last minute. I think we were all just ready to get back home. I wanted to surprise you,” he said, giving you a small smile.

“Well I’m glad you did,” you said, rolling over to him and straddling his hips. He readjusted the blanket around you as you leaned down to kiss him. The two of you took each other in for a bit, and he pulled back just far enough to speak.

“I missed you so much, honey,” he whispered.

You froze, remembering the exact moment in your dream that he uttered those words and what he was doing when he said them. You replayed it in your head, and felt warmth spread between your legs. “I missed you,” you said, pulling him back to your mouth. You felt his cock start to harden rather quickly under you, and you immediately rolled your hips into him, your breath starting to pick up.

“Is that my sweater?” He asked, his eyes glinting at you from below.

“Yeah,” you said, unsure of what he would say next.

He smirked and flicked his gaze from the sweater to your eyes. “It looks really good on you. I like it.”

You slipped the sweater over your head and let it fall to the floor. “Does it look better now?”

His hands gripped your hips and he let out a hard laugh. He flipped you over so that you were under him, and he peppered kisses from your mouth to your breasts, taking his time to spoil each new area he encountered, leaving your heat more soaked and needy for him than it ever had been.

Once he’d met your underwear, he lifted his head as he hooked his fingers around your waistband and waited. You lifted your hips, and he took his cue to pull your underwear down your legs. He paused after he dropped them on the floor.

His eyes flicked from your dripping pussy to your eyes and back. He let out a small huff of air and chuckled to himself.

“What’s so funny?”

He looked at you and raised his eyebrows before he spoke. “I’m toast.”

“What do you mean?” you chuckled back at him.

“I’m not gonna last two fucking seconds in there. There’s no way.”

“Why do you say that?”

His eyes widened as he dramatically glanced back and forth again. “Baby I’ve never seen you wet like this for me. Ever. And it’s been way too long. This is gonna be a fuckin’ mess.”

“Is that a bad thing?” you asked, raising your eyebrows with a smirk.

You watched his jaw fall slack as he stared at you, almost in a daze, before he slowly started slipping his clothes off and tossing them in the floor.

Once he’d fully undressed himself, he settled his shoulders between your legs leaving soft kisses on your inner thighs, slowly moving closer and closer to your heat. The closer he got, the faster you huffed, your heart hammering with anticipation for the feeling of his mouth; a sensation you’d thought about every single night that he was gone.

Your hands lightly shook as they reached for his hair, knowing full-well you didn’t have the self-control to keep yourself from finishing just moments after he delved his tongue inside of you. Once he was happy with the number of kisses he’d given you, his hands crept up your thighs, and he used his fingers to separate you just a bit, giving his tongue easier access to your already swollen clit.

He started slowly, running his tongue from your entrance to your clit before giving it a few soft flicks before descending again, making your legs involuntarily twinge with every flick. Your hands softly gripped the roots of his curls as he continued.

Slowly, he began to move faster, shortening the time between the flicks on your clit, making you whimper as he did so. Your grip tightened as you felt a burning in the pit of your stomach already. “Shit, Danny,” you moaned.

His eyes flicked up to you from below. “What is it? You need some more?”

You moaned again, his voice making you wetter with every syllable. It was then that he slipped his middle and ring fingers into your folds and moved them around, collecting your juices before slipping them languidly into your core. Your back arched at the contact and your fingers completely wrapped themselves around his hair and pulled harder than before, making him moan into your pussy as he sucked your clit into his mouth. His fingers curled, rubbing the perfect spot, and you cried out, your hips bucking shamelessly into his face. The pit of your stomach was seething, and you didn’t even try to quench the fire.

“Oh god, Danny– I– ohhhhh fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck–.”

He quickened the pace at which his fingers pumped in and out of your entrance, and you immediately felt the warmth of your first orgasm spread over your entire body. His pace was unwavering, and you continually writhed under him and bucked your hips, physically begging for him to be deeper inside you.

You moaned again.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He cooed, “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” His eyebrows raised, soft and expectant.

“Need you–,” you choked between whimpers, “to fffffff–.” His fingers slowed, giving your brain a moment to work through the numbing haze he was causing with his fingers. “Fuck me,” you whispered. “Please.”

“Been dreaming about hearing you say that to me for months, honey. Dreaming about how you’d look with me buried as deep as I can go. Is that what you want?”

The only bodily function you could manage was a vehement nod of your head, making him let out a breathy chuckle. He removed his fingers from you and leaned up, gently placing his lips on your forehead as he lined himself up with your entrance.

You watched as his mouth hung open while he slipped the tip of his cock into your core, letting out a shaky breath like it was the first time all over again. You sucked in a sharp breath as you adjusted to his girth, feeling him stretch the walls of your pussy so slowly you had to make an effort not to drool. Your head fell backward as your chest heaved at the feeling of fullness between your legs while your hands gripped him by the roots of his curls again.

Moving deeper still, he let out a deep groan, fighting the overwhelming urge to press the rest of the way into you to satisfy himself. He lifted his head to make eye contact with you, his mouth still sitting agape as he slowly continued to slide into you.

“Goddamn, honey. You’re so fucking perfect. So fucking perfect.”

Once he reached the furthest he could, you whimpered, very lightly rolling your hips up into him.

“Mmm, you really did miss me, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whined. “Every fucking night, Danny.”

“I’m flattered,” he said, smirking.

He started pulling his hips back and pushing them in, helping you grow accustomed to the feeling of his thrusts before speeding up. You moaned with each push, already reveling in the depth that he could reach in his current position. Unable to help himself, he pushed into you quicker and harder second by second, his grunts being muted by the slick sounds from your core and the sound of his skin meeting yours over and over.

His breath quickly left him as he continued sharply rocking you back into your pillows, trying his best to hold himself up for as long as he could. His rhythm was impeccable, as one would expect, and you felt your second orgasm creep up on you much quicker than you’d anticipated.

“Danny. Danny. Fuck,” was all you could say before your lower stomach burst with warmth again, leaving your legs trembling on either side of his perfect hips.

“Mmm keep going, sweetheart. Just feel it, yeah? Right there?”

You moaned, nodding your head, focusing everything on the feeling oh his cock sliding in and out of you, like he said. Heavy breaths fell from your lips, and your chest was absolutely burning. It was then that he straightened, removing his cock from you entirely and backing himself off the bed, standing at the end of it. His hands encircled the bottoms of your calves, and he gently pulled you to the edge of the bed; so close that your ass was nearly hanging off the end.

He opened your legs wide and lined himself back up before plunging deliciously deeper inside your core, making you cry out for him. Your hands gripped the sheets under you hard enough to turn your knuckles white. He knew you loved being as close to him as possible while he fucked you, so he slid his arm behind you so that the crook of his elbow rested perfectly behind your neck, his hand firmly gripping your shoulder while his other hand rested on the top of your head. You felt warm and wholly connected to him being wrapped in his arms like this, and you knew he felt the same. He planted a lusty kiss on your lips, lingering there, slipping his tongue into your mouth on occasion.

Once he broke the kiss, he pulled his hips back, pulling his cock out of you about halfway, and pressed down with both of his hands, bringing you to him as he brought himself to you, pushing himself into you deeper than he’d ever gone to date. Your back arched, pressing your chest up into his and he forcefully met your hips with his own, the sounds between the two of you becoming louder and messier by the second. His grunts turned into sharp exhales as he tried with everything he had to hold out and pace himself for his own climax, desperately trying to finish you off for a third time before he indulged.

“Ohhhhh my fucking GOD, Danny,” you moaned. “You’re so fucking deep. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.”

He moaned, and you could tell from the sound of it that he was tiptoeing on his edge. You tried with everything you had to squeeze his cock as hard as you could, and you thought you had him. His eyes screwed shut and his mouth fell open, and you watched him fight with his entire being for every second he could stand it.

His grip on your shoulder and your hair grew much tighter as he grit his teeth together, his chest heaving harder than you’d ever seen it. He pulled you impossibly closer to him, every inch of your skin burning against his as he pounded into you the hardest he had all night.

“Cum for me, sweet girl. Show me how bad you needed my cock while I was gone, huh? Come on,” he coaxed. You arched again, harder than you ever had, and you cried out for him again, your entire body trembling as he kept his rhythm perfectly again, making your legs twinge from the immense stimulation.

Soon after, you felt his hips quiver, and it took mere seconds for him to start his release. You did what you could to squeeze around him while he rode out his high, milking his cock while he grunted and moaned into your neck, eventually laying his upper half against yours in a heaving pile. Your hands trailed the expanse of his back as his chest pressed into yours with each breath he took.

When he rose from you, he slipped out from between your legs and padded off to the bathroom for a washcloth. After he’d cleaned the both of you, he settled himself at the head of the bed, pulling you to him. You laid your head on his chest and threw your arm across his torso as he pressed his lips against your forehead, reaching for the TV remote on the nightstand.

After flipping it on, he looked at you and grinned.

“What?” You asked, reflecting his smile on your lips.

“That must’ve been a really good nap earlier to put you in that big of a mood,” he said, waggling his brows at you.

You blushed, looking away from him for a moment with a giggle.

“Actually…”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @sunandthemoontwinflames

#greta van fleet #greta van smut #gvf #starcatcher #greta van fic #greta van art #danny wagner fic #danny wagner smut #danny gvf #danny wagner

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am-artist · 1 year

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the superb thing with succession s4e3 is that beyond all the big obvious grief moments there’s all the lived in, mostly physical details that the actors pull out, details that really come from having developed the characters three seasons since s1e2. we have seen them all in so many situations but the way they physically, minutely react to the inevitable is so much. roman diving for connor’s arm and clutching at it several ways before he rapidly retracts, like he was just making sure now dad’s dead con is still there, because we know about fishing now. connor, he of the looney cakes and outsider outbursts and pain, still taking the time to huddle shiv in as he sits mourning his dad at his wedding. kendall and shiv holding hands as they look for con not because they really tried to but because they’re walking so close together their hands tangled, and kendall’s barely voiced “shivvy honey”, neither of which would mean anything to us if we hadn’t seen what ken and shiv struggle to be to each other before (‘i’m asking you to look after me’). roman’s awkward shoulder and face clutch of shiv when she’s on the phone, and then the amount of times (multiple!) shiv has to lead them places this episode while roman uselessly but so genuinely encouragingly touches her back in passing bc that’s the best he can muster. FRANK punching airplane walls but being very gentle when he calls ken “son” and breaks the news for real. even fucking colin standing dazed and lost on the tarmac for .3 seconds. what could any of this have meant to us if logan had died after the pilot? how much meaning does it carry now?

#succession spoilers #succession #succession s4 #shiv roy #kendall roy #roman roy #connor roy #logan roy #i have soooo much. to say. but the episode has said it all really.!#50 #100 #500

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lifeiskentastic · 10 months

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Ken flirts (albeit not very successfully) with a officer gn!Reader

Gif by jokerous

A/n: I want to say in advance that if I don't respond to your replies, it's only because this is my side blog and I still haven't figured out how to make it the main blog ;( and English is still my second language so be sure to let me know about my mistakes!

Summary: Ken shows up at the police station again, but this time he has a much more complicated reason for being there;

Song I recommended: Santa Monica by Everclear (although it's not really suitable for fanfic, the song and lyrics were just made for Ken);

Word count: 1,107 words;

Hope you like it!

You've interrogated all sorts of weirdos during your long career as a police investigator. But such a case was certainly the first of its kind. And probably the only one. In front of you sat a not at all embarrassed man in the uniform of a horse rider, that is, in a ridiculous oval hat, a black suit, only horse was. What was the main problem. After all, walking in such clothes in public places and even without a horse is not to everyone's liking. In addition, if it is stolen. Although most of the townspeople have already managed to get used to it since this same man and his companion appeared here for the first time. However, this case was different, as today he came alone. That's why they didn't let him home right away, but sent you to deal with it.

"So Mr. Ken…" You looked at the man who wasn't the least bit concerned about being in the police station, not knowing what you were going to do with him.

"Oh yeah, it's me."

"Um, why did you steal that suit?" You mentally slapped yourself on the forehead for asking such a stupid and obvious question. It's like asking a criminal why he committed a crime... Damn.

Ken was smiling brightly, only making you despair even more. "You see, I just don't have anything to pay yet… But I'll pay it all back very soon! Yes…" But you wouldn't tell that from his unsure and guilty face.

"I'm sorry, mister, but in our town promises aren't enough." For some reason it was difficult for you to say this. Maybe you just couldn't resist the person's naive sincerity in front of you.

"Okay, I'll give you one last warning in hopes that I won't find you in a stolen suit in the middle of a police station again, okay?" Ken shook his head.

"Well, officer, I promise, it won't happen again!"

"Eh, I hope so…"

To tell the truth, this was not the first such "last" warning, but... But sometimes it is worth making exceptions to the rules and protocols for the sake of a good cause.

"Um, officer?" You were about to walk out of the interrogation room and just pretend you didn't see the criminal leaving the police station without punishment. But Ken stopped you with his strangely needy look. "Actually, I just wanted to meet you again."

You were once again surprised by the frankness of this man. And ignorance.

"You could just walk in here, you don't have to commit a robbery."

"Oh."

For a moment you stared into each other's eyes in inexplicable silence until you remembered in time that Ken was a little out of this world. But you didn't know yet whether in a physical or mental sense.

Ken's expression lost its former fervor for a moment, causing you to feel a sharp pang of guilt. So you decided to somehow cheer him up.

"Anyway, I'm very flattered that you went through such troubles for me." You pointed out Ken's appearance, and he immediately melted with pride. "Good job."

You chuckled amicably, but immediately after that you suddenly remembered that you were still wearing your police badge and had some responsibilities, so you improved to add:

"But anyway, don't do that again!"

"Haha, not going to anymore, don't worry officer."

And silence reigned again, although this time it was filled with your mutual smiles. Incredible, but even criminals can be cute.

Ken began to glare at you, to which you could only respond with confusion. This careful look confused you a little, so you decided to find out the reason for it directly.

"Is something wrong Ken?" Ken squinted and something in his sly expression seemed to warn you of danger...

"You are beautiful."

You blinked, slightly not expecting such an answer to the question about feelings.

"Um, thanks… You're in good shape too." Ken assumed a very strange pose that you could describe as flirtatious if he wasn't the weird stranger. After all, how could he flirt with you? It seemed as if the roles of the policeman and the culprit were somehow unfairly reversed between you...

Ken folded his arms on the table, looking at you with all possible attention. Because of which you imperceptibly shuddered. A very strange feeling welled up as you stared into those crystal blue eyes in return. And Ken's smile might seem innocent and naive, but as an experienced police officer you couldn't afford to be fooled by that…

Your palms also rested safely on the table, and the undisguised slyness with which Ken was looking at them could not be ignored... After that, Ken lightly touched his soft fingers to yours, as if by accident, but you could definitely tell from his satisfied face that this was exactly what he intended. But you have not removed your hands in any way. Even if these touches did not seem only friendly.

Ken's whole look (minus the costume ) was like... Head over heels in love? You tried to drive away these insolent thoughts, but the affectionate look fixed on you as if he was completely devoted only to you, the barely noticeable movements of his fingers on your palms and the atmosphere of privacy created by him did not give you peace. And when did everything get so fast?

"You know, I've always wanted to try on an officer's uniform, although I'm pretty sure it looks better on you."

Well, even if it was a sincere and deliberate flirtation, it was so incredibly unfussy and simple that it couldn't help but be touching. If everyone in Ken's world is so nice and unassuming, then this place is clearly Heaven.

"Hmm, thanks again and… And I'm also pretty sure that the uniform will fit you."

You didn't know what Ken was playing, but you decided to keep up with him. It seems that a real battle was brewing here...

"Are you busy tonight?"

It confused you a little. Somehow unexpectedly, too sharply and in general, such purely friendly invitations are not made with such a flirtatious tone!..

"No. Not at all. Do you want to meet?..."

But your tongue had already given away all your innermost thoughts before you had time to really think them through.

Ken looked as if he had already expected a refusal, but when he heard the unequivocal agreement... Well, sparks flew from him. Literally. However, you were sure that this only seemed to you.

"So, at the beach today?"

"I will wait for you!"

#ken x reader #ryan gosling ken #ken #ken x real world reader #ken x gn reader #ken x you #fanfiction #barbie ken #barbie #ken barbie #barbie 2023 #barbie movie #barbie fanfic #ken fic #ken fluff #kenergy #he's just ken #and his just literally me

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wexhappyxfew · 2 months

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Silver Bullets Writing Masterlist (a Masters of the Air Fic-Collection)

AO3 link: coming soon!

OCs Featured: Women of Silver Bullets

Pairings: SB Pairings

Collection of writings of the women of the B-17, Silver Bullets, and their stories through the Second World War, alongside the Masters of the Air men. Features replacement pilot, Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw, stepping into the role of command pilot for Silver Bullets, working to lead a crew of an all-female bomber crew throughout missions out of Thorpe Abbotts, England. Silver Bullets recently went through the tragic loss of their previous command pilot, Captain Birdie Faulkner, which leaves the crew reeling - Annie Bradshaw hopes to do justice to this bomber crew and the war. Follows canon for the most part, an alternate universe with women as a B-17 crew.

-> Current Writings <-

-> to be updated as new writings come out!

Meeting Annie Chattaway (Bradshaw)

Annie Chattaway (later becomes Bradshaw in rewrites) meets John Egan and John Brady for her first introductions to base. Story is later reworked into Silver Bullets writings and a larger crew.

Sweet-Talking Silver Bullets

Annie Bradshaw heads to the flying club after an introduction to Thorpe Abbotts and an invitation from John Brady - and gets to meet Margie Harlowe, flight engineer on Silver Bullets, as well as some commentary from John Egan.

Package Deal

Bombardier, Carrie Achterberg, falls sick and misses a mission - navigator, Bessie Carlisle, visits her for some well wishes - James Douglass pays the duo a visit.

Introductions and Pleasantries

Bessie Carlisle and turret ball gunner, Judy Rybinski, discuss the future and meet the newest pilot on base, Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal - Marianne Salinger, tail-gunner, sets her sights on letting her orange cat, Frank, get a feel for the newest addition.

Solemn Reminders

Co-pilot, Francis Montez, has been struggling ever since losing Captain Birdie Faulkner those few weeks ago - Annie Bradshaw attempts to get through those layers and let Francis know she's there to stay.

Lie Down Next to Me

Annie Bradshaw's is sure of a lot of things - but sharing a bed with Captain John Brady when things start getting tough is not one of them.

Quiet Reprieve

A mission gone haywire leaves the crews at Thorpe Abbotts in a mental recovery - John Brady attempts to get Annie Bradshaw out of her head. Ken Lemmons offers a few jokes in return.

Next Time I Wake

Judy Rybinski suffered a serious injury after a rough mission, and is joined by Rosie Rosenthal at her side when she wakes.

When All Else Fails

The 9-remaining members of Silver Bullets discuss their newest pilot, ponder their last replacement who went down the drain and the future of their B-17 bomber.

Very Thought of You

Judy Rybinski's in her head. Rosie Rosenthal can see that. He offers her a dance. She finally feels at home.

Crash Landings and All

Annie Bradshaw and John Brady share some coffee in the early morning and discuss their rather embarrassing mishaps of first-time-flying.

Home is an Anchor

Annie Bradshaw reminisces on her miserable youth as John Brady attempts to comfort her. Annie recognizes what it means for someone to be an anchor, as well as a place.

You, Me, and the Stars

Judy Rybinski and Bessie Carlisle discuss life and love. Judy shares a conversation with Rosie Rosenthal and makes a few bolder moves than she would have thought.

Guide and Guard

The crew of Silver Bullets dutifully awaits the signal for wheels up. John Brady makes a visit.

No Hard Feelings

Carrie Achterberg just wants to enjoy breakfast. James Douglass comes asking for a favor. Greenland mention!

I Found You Again

Annie Bradshaw and John Brady share a moment in a bunk, with quiet contention and silent confessions.

You Pinky Promise?

James Douglass visits a sick Carrie Achterberg. Conversation ensues about Dougie's time in the skies under Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw's wing.

Let It Linger

Judy Rybinski gets promoted and thinks Rosie Rosenthal has a little something to do with it.

Bergie Doesn’t Strike Out

Carrie Achterberg and James Douglass both feel they have ‘struck out’ in their own ways. Lingering eyes follow.

You In My A-2

Annie Bradshaw and John Brady share another night in the bunk. A few honest statements seem to slip. A sort of Pt 2 to this piece.

Looking Out For Me

Judy Rybinski grieves what is lost and Rosie Rosenthal tries to offer an olive branch of connection. They share an orange and an understanding.

Run Along Lover Boy

Kennedy Farley and Bucky Egan share a conversation that might just change both their minds about their futures.

Didn't Think You'd Notice

Carrie Achterberg and James Douglass share a dance. And a whole lot more than just that.

A Little While Longer

Annie Bradshaw gets herself into a bit of a fight, but John Brady isn't afraid to step up for the people he loves.

Through the War

Judy Rybinski enjoys the sunshine of the flak house, but couldn’t help but have a conversation with Rosie Rosenthal about the truth of this war.

Ease the Pain

Vivian Ratcliff remains emotionally distraught over not hearing from long-time boyfriend, James Pennington, and Everett Blakey tries to help with that.

Greenland

Carrie Achterberg ponders her dislike for Greenland, alongside James Douglass, in the pre-Annie Bradshaw era of Silver Bullets.

Stray Bullets

Kennedy Farley and Bucky Egan share a few words with each other after a terrible mission and an even worse-off interrogation.

Folklore or Whatnot

Annie Bradshaw continues to prove her role in these shoes she must fill after Birdie Faulkner. She proves herself in more ways than one.

And Then I Breathed

Kennedy Farley can't stop her thoughts from ruminating on her final moments before jumping out of the plane that final time. Bucky Egan tries to mend that in any way he can.

My Bessie Marie

Bessie Carlisle lives by fact and truth. Her world turns upside when that’s all off the table and her boyfriend, Thomas McKenzie joins the Marines.

Cold Hands

Annie Bradshaw revels in her reckless youth alongside a battered and bruised John Brady who is in need of nothing more than someone willing to listen to his ramblings.

Lips Itching To Grin

Kennedy Farley and Bucky Egan talk baseball, big bands and their mothers. Bucky also thinks Kennedy would make a great cleanup hitter in the lineup.

Gone to the Earth

The Annie Bradshaw and John Brady reunion piece.

#silver bullets masterlist #silver bullets #masters of the air #mota #mota writings #annie bradshaw #FINALLY put together their list of writings #more to come in the future!#+ AO3 list (but i need to dedicate some more time that which i do not have today!)#ENJOY!!!!!!

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