#I think it'll took me a year or more to finish it since I have no experience in animation lol💀 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chellestrash · 1 year ago

Text

Please, Mr. Ghost Face

Frank Castle x F!Reader Halloween Special (18+)

Warnings: explicit language, explicit smut, semi-public, unprotected sex, roughy sex, brat! reader, frank being kinda bitchy, oral (f!receiving) knife play, mention of blood play, teasing.

Summary: look at the title, look at the warnings, you know what it is, enjoy!!

Word count: 7.2k

AN: Oh my god okay, thank you @chelseasdagger and @suitsofwo3 for getting me to actually finish writing this (i literally felt like i was loosing my god damn mind trying to push through). I dont know why it turned out so long I dont normaly write things that are over 3k so this...yeah I really hope at least some of you will enjoy. I love reading your thoughs and feedback on my fic so please, feel free to share them. Reblogs are very appriciated as always :) HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

You're not sure how Frank managed to get his entire Halloween costume ready before you finished the few quick fixes to your makeup. Even considering the fact that it took you around an hour to get the whole look together, and he repeatedly told you no matter when he started getting ready, he'd still be finished before you. He was right. Was it annoying? Slightly, yes, but for once, him being right was actually a good thing since you were already late to a house party one of your friends decided to throw at the end of the week once most of you were finally done with work.

You fix up your lipstick and try the fake fangs on one more time before messing with your hair a bit and taking a couple steps back to check the outfit out in the mirror. Nothing too creative, just a simple well-fitted black dress, slightly shorter than what you'd usually wear, a couple of bright red details and some silver jewelry. A last minute vampire, sure, it'll do.

You straighten up the fabric and look up and down at your reflection one more time.

“Right, I think I'm ready!”

You raise your voice, making sure he’d hear you, before grabbing the last few things and turning to the door.

“So, what did you decide to go as?”

You shout again, curious about how much effort he decided to put into the whole thing this year. Halloween wasn't necessarily a holiday Frank enjoyed, but he'd do this and that occasionally just to make you happy.

“Did you figure it out?”

Another question since he didn't answer the previous one. You step out of the room, digging through your small bag in search of your phone before you walk directly into your boyfriend’s chest.

“Shit, sorry.”

You mumble and Frank grabs your arm, helping you regain the balance before you end up with your ass on the wooden floor.

“Christ, easy, 'you okay?”

Frank’s deep, groggy voice rumbles through your body, and you take a moment to fix up the dress before finally tracing your eyes up his body. You bite the inside of your cheek and it feels like the words get stuck in your throat before you can answer him.

Frank stands in front of you with his usual outfit on. Combat boots, the ones you rarely see him out of, one of the dark gray, now slightly worn off jeans, and a black tank top, his heavy, deep navy blue jacket already in his hand. The reason for your reaction doesn't have anything to do with his exceptionally ordinary choice of clothing, but rather with a thing you're not used to seeing on him.

The basic Ghost Face mask from Scream covering his face makes it rather difficult to focus on… really anything else. The loose black cloth falls onto his exposed shoulders, covering part of his neck, and you catch yourself staring at him and his body for probably slightly longer than necessary.

“Oh, fuck.”

You finally manage to get out a couple of words, and Frank lets go of your arm.

“Think it'll do?”

You catch his question this time but keep your eyes fixed on the mask as his voice flows from underneath the fabric.

“Shit, yeah, yeah it’ll do alright.”

You lean back on the nearest wall, looking over his figure from head to toe once again.

“Shit, Frank, where did you even find that?”

“Corner shop.”

He shrugs and takes a step in your direction after a moment. You feel your back pushing against the door frame, a familiar warm feeling growing between your legs when his frame grows bigger in your field of view. His shoulders and chest, slightly exposed by the tight tank top, the fabric clearly struggling some right above his sternum. You catch the corner of your lips pulling up in a confident smirk once you finally take in the whole picture.

The dark, empty eyes of the mask pierce through your own for a moment and you cross your legs nonchalantly before Frank finally reaches up to get rid of the cheap Halloween costume.

Quickly grabbing his wrist, you stop him before he’s able to pull the mask off of his face. His head tilts to the side slightly, his sudden confusion expressed by the pose.

“What?”

The question, slightly muffled by the dark fabric, only amplifies the smirk already present on your face. You grin happily at the Ghost Face character right in front of you, somehow feeling like he already knows the answer to his question.

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re into that.”

Shaking his head, he tries again but you interrupt the action one more time.

“Oh boohoo, and what if I was?”

You tease. Your impatient hands linger over his body, fingers rubbing over the fabric of both his shirt and jeans. Hooking your hand over the waistband of the jeans, you pull yourself up, pushing off of the wall and leaning forward towards him, rubbing your leg up his own slowly. The fabric of the dress slides off of you slightly, exposing a decent amount of skin. Guiding Frank's hand to the back of your body, you arch your back slightly, pushing your ass into his palm, humming satisfied once you feel his tight grip through the dress. Frank's chest expands with a loud sigh, the space between your bodies closing almost completely now. He watches you carefully; every move, every tease, every little movement you plan out carefully, seemingly only to get a desired reaction out of him.

“What if I was, Mister Ghost Face?”

Your purr, biting down on your lower lip, your hand now pressed against his chest as you gently drag your nails over the fabric. Frank grunts, the harsher touch clearly getting to him now, and you fight back some smart ass comment your brain so kindly decided to equip you with. Instead, you drop your hand to your thigh under the slit at the side of the skirt. Pulling the fabric back, you let a glimpse of the bright red underwear peek from underneath the costume. Frank finally breaks once you glare up at him suggestively.

“Mmmmm, fuck.”

He groans from behind the mask, gripping your ass firmly before pulling you onto himself, your leg hooked loosely behind his. Slipping his hand under the fabric of the dress, he digs his fingers into your flesh and you part your lips, letting out a satisfied moan in return.

“‘M not fucking you with the mask on, kid.”

Way to kill the mood. You think, but bite your tongue just in time, not willing to give up on the idea just yet. You can't help it. To be completely honest, it feels like his fault. You didn’t make him look this good in the costume, well, part of it, you never anticipated he’d pick out this exact one either. The fact that it was able to get these reactions from you and your body? Yeah, seems like you’re innocent. Gliding your hand between his legs, you drag your nails over the bulge before spreading your fingers apart, cupping the whole of it in your palm.

Frank grunts and the previously present smirk makes its way back onto your face, you don’t even try to act innocent anymore.

Listening to his now heavier breathing, despite his not so thrilled demeanor, his heart picks up the pace slightly, the blood rushing down between his legs.

A faint twitch under the jean fabric corresponding with his fingers digging deeper into your thigh and you know he's focused now. He's listening.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

You push the weight of your body against his groin, and his hand finds its way up to your hair. Fingers tangle into your hair before he tugs on it firmly. Your head tilts up, and the Ghost Face mask finally comes off once you cannot delay the inevitable any longer.

He leans in closer, his warm breath brushes over your lips, and you fight back the cocky smirk, not entirely sure which one of you wanted to feel the other more at this moment.

His stern expression only strengthens once you reach your hand behind him. Your fingers brush over his ass and you watch how his jaw tightens, his eyes closing.

“Oh, there he is.”

You tease, and he almost snaps this time, inhaling deeply through his nose in an attempt to steady his breathing.

“You try that shit one more time-”

He starts. Leaning closer to your ear, his lips brushing over your neck.

“And we're gonna have a big problem, kid.”

“Oh.”

You whisper, grinding into his thigh slowly.

“Oh, are we? We gonna have a problem, Mister Ghost Face?”

Your lips almost brush over his now. Frank opens his mouth to talk back, ready to have you bent over and waiting for him, ready to make both of you feel good or, most importantly, ready to have you apologize for the whole god-damn mask thing.

You breathe out a quiet laugh at the frustrated expression on his face once the sound of your phone successfully distracts you from his attempts to intimidate you.

With his hand still under your dress, the other in your hair, his leg between yours and his body leaning down over you, you answer the phone. Speaking as if it was the most casual situation possible.

“Yeah? Oh, yeah, we're on our way, we'll be there in a bit. Yeah.”

Frank watches, flabbergasted, as you make up a little story about why the two haven't joined the rest yet. You smack his shoulder a couple of times, pushing away from him and taking a few steps into the direction of the front door.

“What?”

You ask once the phone call is over.

“You're the one who said it's not happening.”

***

You arrive at the party a good while after it began. The house feels pretty crowded, the music is way louder than necessary, and you're pretty certain you're able to pick up the smell of both alcohol and cigarettes from the other side of the street. It honestly feels like one of those weekend college parties that used to always leave you with a two day long hangover a couple of years back. You shiver from a gust of the cold night wind and look over at your boyfriend while pulling the jacket close around your body. Frank looks unimpressed with that really significant frown on his face, not looking forward to spending the rest of the night in a small, crowded place with a bunch of people he didn't want to have to deal with.

“Oh, you’ll be fineee.”

Your oh so encouraging words earn you a stern look from him before he shakes his head with a deep sigh.

“Just go.”

You laugh and with his hand resting against your lower back, he pushes you towards the door, slipping on the movie accurate mask with a look of disapproval as you climb up the steps together.

“I’m throwing this thing out tomorrow.”

The muffled sound of his voice humors you, but you bite your tongue.

“Whatever you say, Frankie.”

***

This wasn’t Frank's idea, of course it wasn’t. He agreed to go to the party knowing how much you’d enjoy yourself but that was the only reason. The costumes weren’t even in the picture when you first asked him to join you, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to run around to different stores frantically trying to assemble a Halloween outfit. The mask was the first thing he saw after stepping into that corner store earlier in the day. He didn’t pay it much thought earlier, but now? After you made it blatantly obvious how much you enjoyed the whole thing, well… he struggled to get through one conversation without his thoughts slipping back to what happened before you two left your place.

You weren’t any better. Even when you split to catch up with different groups of friends after you stepped into the house, you found yourself constantly scanning the room in search of either his face, the mask, or his back. Catching his glance from across the room, you smile, raising the bottle of beer in your hand up. He does the same, but the gentle smile on his lips wears off the second you gesture for him to pull the mask back down. Frank rolls his eyes, shaking his head, before continuing his conversation with some guy you managed to interrupt.

You could try to focus on other things, on the drinks, the music, the stories shared between your friends. You could…but you can’t. There’s no use in trying when your eyes keep searching for Frank every other moment and your mind keeps slipping into places you’d rather not discuss in a room full of people.

With that in mind, you make it your mission to tease Frank through the evening and really see how hard you can make this get to him.

It starts slow: some gentle touches as you pass him by here and there, pushing your fingers through the hair on the back of his head as you two try to hold a conversation with another person, sitting in his lap when some of the people move to sit outside, and most importantly encouraging him to keep the mask on. It’s a costume party, after all.

He catches on when you two are in the kitchen and you obnoxiously brush your ass against his cock while squeezing past him to grab another beer from the fridge.

He grunts, his fingers quickly wrapping around your arm, and he glares into your eyes, silently warning you, possibly hoping it would somehow get you to behave. It doesn’t. You shoot him a quick smirk, waving at one of your friends wearing an angel costume when she walks into the kitchen.

“We’re doing a group photo in the living room!”

She announces excitedly, and you grin, immediately matching her energy.

“Are we showing our costumes off?”

Frank's fingers loosen the grip around you, and you step away from him without hesitation, taking your friend's hand while she answers your question.

“Yeah! We're trying to get everyone in!”

“Oh, fun!”

Walking by her side, you step out of the kitchen, turning back for just a moment.

“You heard that, Frankie? Costumes!!”

***

Back in the living room, you all gather together to attempt the impossible task of fitting every single person at the party into one photo together. Frank joins everyone a bit after you, walking in your direction as you all begin to take your somewhat assigned places.

“Hi.”

You start innocently, standing on your toes, to press a quick kiss to the side of his face. Frank nods in response, cautious of your tricks. Standing behind you to make you more visible in the photo, he wraps his arm around your chest, and you quickly grab onto his forearm. Glancing back over your shoulder, you quickly point out the obvious.

“You gotta put the mask on.”

“Mind your business, yeah?”

He murmurs, and you breathe out a quiet laugh, not looking away even for a second while he pulls the dark fabric and white mask over his face. You take a deep breath in, and the corner of your lips pull up in a satisfied smirk.

“Frankie-“

You start, the gentle heat between your legs returning since he put the mask on for the first time, now more prominent as he stares down at you once again.

“Leave it.”

He orders in a harsh whisper and with his hand on the back of your neck, he makes you face the camera. Your body takes over your brain and when everyone poses for the photo and his hand slides to your lower back, you push your ass out and press it against his bulge. His grunt, muffled by the mask and the constant noise of the party, slips from under the mask and his hands find your hips faster than you realize it was happening. His fingers dig into your thighs, so hard you know it'll leave bruises. He holds you still, knowing god-damn well if he lets go you'll repeat exactly what you just did.

There's a flash of the phone, and once the photo is taken he lets go of your body immediately. You make up your mind, deciding to risk it. Pushing past a few groups of people that begin to form around the living room, you excuse yourself, glancing back at Frank to make sure he's watching before you disappear behind the corner. You make your way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You don't lock it. You know he won't let that whole thing slip. No more than five minutes pass before he decides to join you.

“Took you long enough.”

You point out and push yourself off the edge of the bathtub, standing up before taking a couple steps in his direction. Frank shuts the door closed and turns back to face you.

“Oh, you wanted me to just walk after you, huh? Make it real obvious?”

He takes a step closer to you, his chest almost rubbing against yours when he looks down.

“No one would give a shit, Frank, everyone's drunk. We could fuck with the door wide open and they wouldn't notice.”

“Stop.”

His voice harsh with the warning.

“Why?”

You push without hesitation or any intention of stopping.

“That get you too much, huh? Bet you'd like that, Frankie, hmm?”

Frank's body tenses up at your attempt to tease him. He stands up straighter, taller, and his shoulders stiffen, his chest rising when he breathes heavily under the mask. His hand balls up into a tight fist as he pushes back the frustration, trying not to hand you exactly what you want from him out on a plate.

“You just don't ever shut up, do you?”

You breathe out a quiet laugh, shaking your head slowly before you stand up on your tiptoes. Staying at eye level with the mask now, you squint, trying to see through the sheer fabric in the eyeholes.

“Oh I do. I can shut up but you don't like that, do you?”

You whisper. The muscles in his neck tensing when his jaw tightens and he shakes his head slowly.

“Yeah, okay, how ‘bout you try for once. Might do you some good.”

“Yeah?”

You whisper again, your hand now rubbing over the center of his chest, feeling the heat under his shirt.

“Make me.”

The words slip past the big smirk on your face and you decide now is the time. Sliding your hand down his body, you brush over the bulge in his jeans. Not giving him time to react, you grip his cock tightly through the thick fabric. With that, you watch whatever was left of Frank's composure crumble away.

There's a moment of silence where his fingers wrap around your wrist. His grip is tight and he holds it in place. You glance down, watching his hand for a moment, before squeezing him once again.

“F-”

He grunts, yanking your hand away with so much force you couldn't possibly even try to fight it back.

“That's it.”

Immediately, you feel his body pushing into yours once he shoves you back against the bathroom counter. Your lips part but you keep the moan back, wrapping your arms around his neck and biting into his exposed shoulder once you feel the porcelain digging into your lower body.

Breathing heavier under the plastic mask, he reaches down to the high slit on the side of your dress. His fingers push into your skin and drag up your thigh. Your breath rushes and your chest rises and falls faster now, the only indication, besides the elaborate banter and the teasing, of how much you've been thinking of this since getting to the party.

You hum loudly once his fingers brush over the hem of your underwear. Your hips push forward slightly in need of his touch once he tugs on the fabric to pull it down. You reach towards him, hands working the buckle of his belt open once the lace of your panties brushes down your calf. Frank reaches up, hand gripping the mask to finally pull it off, but you grab his wrist, stooping him once again.

There's a moment of silence when you both wait for the other to talk, the heat of your bodies radiating through the small bathroom. The pure lust for one another allows this to last only a few seconds.

“Keep it on.”

You request, knowing deep down that you can push him enough to actually have him fuck you with it on.

“Jesus fucking-”

Frank scoffs, pulling the mask off and looking away from you. He shakes his head, disapproving of whatever the hell you've been trying to get him involved in since the night started. He turns back to face you, his eyebrows pulled together, face in a frustrated frown.

“Seriously, this shit again?”

You roll your eyes with a frustrated sigh, hand on his chest as you push against his body, creating some distance between both of you.

“Could you just do one fucking thing without bitching about it so much? Like, is that too hard or?”

You push one more time, both the tone of your voice and the choice of words a lot harsher than before. You keep your gaze on his eyes, confidently staring him down after your annoyed statement, not letting go of this whole thing, not now, not with knowing how close you were.

Frank stands tall in front of you, jaw tight, teeth grinding against each other, and his chest pushes out with the breath he's been holding in his lungs. His eye twitches slightly before he looks off to the side. The bridge of his nose scrunches up when he inhales quickly, nodding once he finally turns back to face you again.

“Alright.”

He slowly pulls the mask back on.

“Your fucking call, sweetheart.”

Before there's time to react, he grabs your arm and shoves you against the sink, turning your body around in one swift motion, bending you over the counter and wrapping his fingers around your upper thigh.

“Your fucking call.”

His words travel down your body and between your legs, the excitement of getting what you wanted, followed by the thrill of the entire situation. The warmth between your legs grows once Frank pulls your ass back, kicking your legs open with his foot. You glance up, focusing on his reflection in the mirror in front of you.

The man towers over you, his shoulders broad and heavy, his chest in the dark tank top, his arm flexing when he holds your lower back down against the wood. The mask, fuck, the mask exposing the tense muscles in his neck, the whole sight taking over your senses, your mind and body.

His heavy hand rubs over your back, up and down a couple of times, before he pushes his palm under the fabric of your dress. Bunching it up, he pulls it over your ass and you can't help but push it out some more in search of his touch.

There's a loud scoff, and you see him shaking his head in the mirror.

“You know, you talk a lot of shit for how wet you are right now, sweetheart.”

He mocks you, pulling the black fabric up before pushing his fingers between your legs.

You whine out loud, closing your legs at the sudden touch but pull them apart again almost instantly.

“Yeah, s’ what I thought. You got a big mouth for-”

“Oh, shut up.”

You cut into his words and feel his fingers on the back of your neck. The grip tightens and he pulls you up, back into an upright position, your body now pressed against his chest. The reflection in the mirror makes your mouth part, but you bite into your lower lip, fighting back another moan. His figure looms over you, the mask ways up above your shoulder, his hand moving to the front of your neck. You feel yourself react to the sight in front of you, to the feeling of his fingers wrapping tighter around your neck, the warmth of his body so close behind you.

“What, you think I'm gonna say make me? Hmm?"

Pushing you back down on the counter, Frank steps closer to your body, his clearly hard cock pressing against your ass.

“Nah, that's your part. I don't do that shit.”

Taking your chance, you perk your ass up some, brushing over the warm spot between his legs. Frank grunts, closing his eyes for a moment before reaching down, pushing his pants open and then down slightly, pulling himself out of the black boxers.

Unable to win with your body this time, you slip up, letting out a moan once his cock springs out from under the dark fabric, stretched out over the large bulge up until this point.

There's a low chuckle from under the Ghost Face mask.

“That shit really gets you that bad?”

One of Frank's hands digs into your thigh, holding you close, the other wrapped tightly around his length.

You nod, making sure he catches the still confident expression on your face in the bathroom mirror.

“Oh, you've got no idea.”

You tease again and Frank moves his hand up to your shoulder blades. Pushing your body down against the counter, he clears his throat.

“Think I got some.”

He lines himself up, getting a few pumps in over his length before spreading you open with his free hand. He pushes inside slower than you'd have liked, pausing after the tip the second he feels how truly ready you are.

“You get off on these things, huh?”

He continues the questing, beginning to thrust into you, and you feel your body stretching to fit him in with every push. Your lips part as your mouth falls open before you bite into your lip, trying to muffle the sounds you're sure would otherwise fill the space of the small bathroom. You try to keep your head up, focusing on Frank's reflection. His body takes up most of your view. You focus on the mask, the low grunts coming from behind it, the feeling of his cock dragging inside of you, out of you and then pushing right back inside, and the feeling of him stretching you out that never goes away entirely.

“You want it fucking scary? Hmm? That'll do it for you?”

He keeps up the teasing, quick to point out every single reaction your body presents him with, and you finally decide to bite back.

You reach behind your back, hand on the front of his hip, tapping your palm against his body to get his attention. Pausing his movements for a moment, Frank watches your face in the mirror, giving you space to talk.

“Yeah, you got me.”

You grunt, cursing under your breath, once he decides to move his palm between your legs.

“You got me but-”

“Gotta speak up, sweetheart.”

He thinks he has you now.

“The mask isn't scary, It's just hot. You should try harder to reeeally get me."

The feeling of his fingers rubbing over your clit disappears immediately after you finish the sentence. He starts up again from behind, and you feel yourself clench around his cock once he moves inside you. You hum loudly, and Frank wraps his big hands around the sides of your body. Panting loudly with his cock still inside you, he tries to focus on your words, knowing, and being almost completely sure, of what you were asking for.

“You know what would help?”

You purr quietly, watching him in the mirror. Your confidence flows back to you once you notice him slightly stunted. The mask moves in the reflection, his eyes focus on your face from underneath the fabric, and you know he's now thinking about it too.

“Yeeeaah, I know you have it, Frankie.”

His grip on you tightens with your words.

“You don't leave the house without it. ‘Just in case’? Your words.”

It takes a moment, but after that moment he reaches behind his body without a word. There's hesitation and he pauses. The bathroom falls quiet and the only sound between your panting is the muffled noise of the party outside the bathroom door.

Slowly, Frank pulls out his black, military grade knife you've seen on him so many times before. The one he always insists on carrying with him, the one you knew he didn't leave at the house tonight.

“Ohhh that's it, Frankie, look at that.”

You whisper in a condescending tone, bumping your odds of actually getting hurt up just a bit higher. He doesn't say a word, but the knuckles of his hand turning white with the strength of the grip speak volumes.

“This what you fucking want?”

He asks, pushing his hand into your hair before tugging to pull your head up. He pushes the blade harder against your skin. The sting of the sharp edge gliding over the inside of your thigh makes you push your hips back again. Once you make sure his eyes focus on your reflection, you smirk, bigger than before, and bite into your lower lip with a quiet whine. With a grunt, Frank holds you down in place, not allowing you to move further back on him,

“You're fucking sick, you know that?”

He points out, and you feel the win in your bones. Making yourself clench around him, you murmur quietly in the most innocent voice.

“Oh yeah, but you like it, Frankie.”

He breaks. His cock twitches inside you and he shoves your chest into the bathroom counter. Thrusting inside you, he follows his every move with a grunt. You grip onto the edge of the sink, now letting the sweet sounds of pleasure slip past your lips with no restrictions. Your breath hitches, the pounding in your head rushes once Frank leans over your body. With his chest pressed against your back, he presses the knife back into the inside of your thigh. You instinctively spread your legs open a bit more as he mumbles something about the knife again. The edge of the blade nicks your skin with the next thrust and you groan at the feeling. Rolling your eyes back, you let your head fall forward, fully aware of the fact Frank just felt how good that felt for you.

“God d-“

He starts in his raspy voice. His big hand holds your lower back in place once he pulls back, the drag of his cock slipping out of your body makes you curl your toes.

Lifting your head back up, you watch him in the mirror, seeing him kneel behind you quickly. You glance back at him confused, not sure of what to expect next.

You gasp, louder than you’ve liked it, but you can’t help it, it’s not your fault. You’d be lying if you said you were expecting him to do his. Kneeling on one knee, Frank pulls you closer by your thighs before pulling the mask up and he presses his tongue flat against the cut. It stings and you jump forward but he pulls you back to him before dropping his right hand to his cock, the knife still in his other hand while he strokes over his length a couple of times.

“So your cock’s fucking throbbing and I’m the sick one?”

You throw the question into the air and it’s like a slap across his face. He pauses, immediately standing up to shove you back down against the wood.

“You gonna act like you don’t like it?”

He spits out, not even expecting an answer, as he lines himself up with your entrance again. Adjusting his grip for a moment, he pulls you back on him instead of thrusting forward, and you struggle to regain balance for a moment as he pushes deeper and deeper inside you.

Out of your control at this point, your thighs press against each other, squeezing him tighter than before. He bends in half, grunting what seems like louder than the actual music playing outside the bathroom. You part your lips ready to deliver another smart ass comment but the force of his hips pushing against your ass, his dick hitting that stop deep inside right under your stomach? It knocks the wind out of you and turns your words into one loud moan.

“Fuck.”

You grunt, feeling your body dancing on the edge now. You prop yourself up, watching his body flex in the mirror as he fills you up, what feels like better than anyone has before.

You move on top of the counter, move with his body when he slips his hands between your bodies to finally push you over the edge. Making him drop the knife, you grab onto that hand and bring it up to cover your mouth with his big palm, muffling the sounds of your pleasured body as he works it even deeper inside you.

“Just needed it to hurt a bit, huh?”

Frank teases, pointing out how your body gives away how close you are now, how you’re unable to keep up the bratty demeanor anymore.

“The knife got you this close?”

You whine quietly through his fingers when he holds your back against his chest. His voice turns slightly softer when he fully takes in the state of you.

With your body shaking, your chest moving faster than he’s ever seen it before, your eyes watering and your hands clinging onto his arm, you let him make the call.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Hmm?”

You grunt, frustrated with the slightly condescending tone, but still nodding your head quickly.

“Attagirl, you calmed down a bit?”

And another nod, his fingers roughing over your clit, his cock twitching deep inside you.

“Yeah, that’s it, c’mon. C’mon you got it.”

He mumbles quietly, helping you lean over the counter one last time. His hands rest on your sides and as he pushes inside you again, you whine. Then again you cry out, pushing your legs together. He only manages half a thrust after pushing his fingers hard against your clit, rubbing over the most sensitive spot. You feel your body tensing up with both pain and pleasure as you reach back to hold onto his arm.

“Attagirl, you got it, that’s it”

Your nails dig into his skin while he works over you, letting your body squeeze around his cock once it finally hits you. The overwhelming pleasure floods your body, and you feel the heat from the top of your head down to the very tips of your toes. Winning out his name, you make it pretty obvious he managed it once again. With your muscles tense around him, Frank grunts loudly, pushing into you one more time before he follows with his own climax.

“Fuuuuuuuck-“

He groans, his cock aching for release once he finally reaches it. He gives a few final thrusts when he fills you up before taking a step back to pull his cock out.

Taking a deep breath in, he reaches up, pulling the mask off of his face while watching you attempt to collect yourself.

You try to catch your breath, pushing yourself up before you feel Frank's hand on your arm. He helps you up, turning you around to have you face him now and you notice his loud breathing slowly beginning to mirror your own.

You lean forward and so does he, both of you taking a moment to calm down. Your forehead rests against his as you close your eyes and attempt to steady your breathing.

“Shit.”

You glance down quickly, feeling his cum drip down the side of your leg. Frank's eyes follow, the mask tilts down when he watches the drop slide down over your skin. His hands move to your waist, and he helps you up onto the counter with a grunt. You sit right at the edge, getting comfortable and spreading your legs apart while he slowly gets on his knees right in front of you. You hold up the mask, resting it on top of his head, focusing on his face. You smile at the red hues in his skin.

“Oh, Frankie, I almost forgot how pretty you look.”

You tease and he follows up with a scoff.

“Yeah okay, c'mere.”

He pulls you forward, slightly closer to him, before helping you pull the dress up one more time. His warm breath fans your skin for a moment before he licks over his lips. They press against your skin now, right above the knee. Another kiss follows but higher up your leg and then once more. You push your legs apart more to make it easier for him.

“Attagirl.”

He mumbles against your skin, his hand rubbing over your calf softly while he works his lips over your skin for another moment.

“See? You can be nice sometimes.”

He whispers, and you hum impatiently, pushing your fingers through his exposed hair before tugging at them slightly. He scoffs, and you feel the quick breath on your center.

The second his tongue brushes over your folds, you shut your eyes completely. Still sensitive from the previous orgasm, you let your body lead this time and your head falls back, resting against the mirror while Frank takes care of you.

You moan out his name, not even attempting to fight it back, and he picks up the pace. The warm and wet sensation quickly works you up more than you're actually willing to admit. Relaxing into the feeling, you push your legs open further and Frank chuckles against your body. Your core rumbles with the sound and your thighs quickly press together, closing around his head. He groans, tongue slipping inside you while the pressure around his face tightens. Tilting his head up, he nudges the tip of his nose against your clit and your hips buck forward, a motion accompanied by another loud moan of his name.

You cover your mouth, but only for a second, failing to keep the sounds in once he wraps his lips around your most sensitive spot. Sucking your clit into his mouth, Frank successfully pushes you into an impatient state where you know if he won't get you to finish soon, you'll do it without his help. Your back arches and you mumble his name in an attempt to get his attention.

“Frank.”

You start and your body twitches. Feeling another long stroke of his tongue.

“Mhhh.”

He hums deep into you. Reaching for your legs, he throws them both over his shoulders and digs his fingers into your ass, quickly tugging you closer to him.

“Frank-”

Your breath hitches and you gasp quietly, whining his name out one more time. You feel yourself getting closer, the sounds of the party seem so distant now you almost forget where you are. Almost, because as you feel yourself getting close to your second climax, when his touch becomes so much more intense, when your legs tremble with the feeling, right at that very moment you realize. You never locked the door.

Hearing the sound of the doorknob turning, you press your foot against Frank's shoulder in a desperate attempt to push him away, but before you can do it, with his head still between your legs, Frank leans to the side quickly. With a loud grunt, he shoves the door closed with his shoulder without pulling away from you. He reaches up blindly, feeling the door for the lock, before you reach your hand over his head and finish for him.

He hums into your body, satisfied, and you feel yourself relaxing back into the feeling.

“Shit, Frankie...”

You whisper, pushing your hips forward against his face slightly. There’s a low, raspy chuckle that leaves his chest and you close your eyes, titling your head back to rest it against the mirror while he works on the second round.

You come shortly after and with your body so severely overstimulated, the soft, warm sensation of his tongue works better than he’d expect. He makes sure to take a mental note of it as he looks up from between your legs, watching when the second wave finally pushes you over the edge.

You rest, leaning against the mirror as he stands up in front of you, hand rubbing over your legs gently, his eyes fixed on yours.

“You okay?”

He asks. His soft, quiet question contrasts with whatever the hell the two of you just did in the small space of the bathroom. You lift your hand up, gesturing for him to stop talking and he chuckles quietly.

“Fair.”

He mumbles before turning his attention to his reflection. You watch as he cleans himself up a bit, washing the wet shine off his face and drying himself with the hem of his shirt.

Reaching over to the other side of the counter, he leans down, grabbing his knife off the floor and putting it away before handing the plastic mask over to you.

“Imagine if I didn't go out and pick this shit up.”

You snort, exhausted, enjoying how he literally managed to fuck the frustration out of himself.

“I don’t wanna think about that.”

You whisper, and he scoffs loudly, looking down and shaking his head before glancing back up at you.

“Yeah I bet.”

He helps you collect yourself, staying close by when you clean yourself up and straighten the fabric of your dress before handing you the previously abandoned underwear as you both get ready to leave the bathroom.

He offers you his hand, helping you off of the counter, and you lean on him while stepping down from it.

“Can you walk?”

He asks, and you look up at him, unimpressed with the not-so-subtle tease.

“Shut up.”

You mumble, hoping and praying your legs wouldn't just give out on you and give him something else to tease you about.

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

He grabs the mask and pulls it back on his face, then turns to you.

“Can you walk?”

He repeats the question, clearly enjoying this more than he should.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. I saw how hard you got.”

“Okay, that’s it. Out.”

He gestures to the door, pulling it open to let you out of the room. You hold onto his hand, letting him lead. You ditch your shoes and he carries them for you as you both make your way towards the front door, glancing back in the direction of the party before turning back to face each other again.

“You wanna get the hell out of here?”

“Yeah.”

You nod.

“We gotta get all the use out of that mask before you toss it tomorrow.”

You point out, pulling the door open, and hear his laugh over your shoulder.

“You don’t think maybe you’ve had enough now?”

His voice cuts through the night, and you turn around with a playful smirk, feeling the cold, crispy autumn air fill your lungs.

“No, no, I don’t think so. Besides...”

You slowly pull the mask onto your face staring him down.

“I don’t think you’ve had enough either.”

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank catsle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank catsle x you #marvel punisher #frank catsle smut #jon bernthal #jon bernthal character #frank catsle fan fiction #jon bernthal fanfiction

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

Text

The Younger Kind Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley goes on another unremarkable date before heading home early. You stay and have a drink with him while you fix up his dating profile. Maybe now he will find some more compatible matches.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (eventually 18+)

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley started his Friday morning the same way he always did; by running around the house in a complete disarray.

"Noah, eat your waffles. We're going to be late," he said, his flight suit hanging halfway off his torso.

"I want cereal," he whined, and Bradley ran his hands over his face and sighed. Then he got a bowl of cereal ready and finished eating the waffles himself.

After burning his tongue on coffee that was way too hot and eating a handful of sour blueberries, Bradley was hauling Noah out to the Bronco and buckling him in.

"Is my babysitter coming again?" Noah asked on the way to daycare. He had been asking Bradley that all week.

"You had a lot of fun with her?" he asked as he pulled into the parking lot. "You liked her?"

"Yeah. Bring her back."

Bradley smiled and then he cringed. He liked you, too. And he'd made a complete ass of himself, flirting with you like you and he were the same age. You'd been sweet about it though. He wouldn't do it again.

"She's going to come over again tonight," Bradley told his son as they walked into the daycare. "You can play with her all you want."

At least Noah looked happy about it. Bradley had mixed feelings about the way he would be spending his evening. He was going out with a woman from the app, his first foray into online dating. Her photos looked nice, and she was a thirty-four year old publicist. He had no idea what he was going to talk to her about, but he was meeting her at a sleek martini bar at her suggestion. He didn't even like martinis.

"Bye, bub," Bradley said, kissing Noah and dashing back out to make it to base on time.

And of course he was already starving again. He kept meaning to leave some snacks in the car since he was always running all over town. The first person he saw as his stomach growled was Nat.

"Did you not eat breakfast?" she asked as they walked across the tarmac.

"I don't have any food at my house, and I don't have time to go grocery shopping," he growled, grabbing a smashed granola bar out of his helmet bag. "And I can't go tonight, because I have a date from that fucking app you put on my phone!"

Bradley was absolutely not in the mood to go on this date. However, Nat looked delighted.

"That's great!"

"Is it? Is it really? Because I'm meeting her at a fancy martini bar. I don't like martinis, and I don't like getting dressed up."

Nat rolled her eyes. "It's your first date using the app. It'll be fine."

Bradley headed straight for his F/A-18 and started to climb into the cockpit. He had the fleeting thought that he would rather be at home all evening, coloring and eating those peanut butter covered carrot sticks with you and Noah.

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

You woke up late on Greyson's couch with a stiff neck and a growling stomach. As you walked into the kitchen to get a drink of water before leaving for your first class, you found Greyson, hungover and eating Cheetos.

"Hey," he groaned, holding his head. "You coming back over tonight."

"No," you told him, reaching for a glass. "I'm babysitting later."

He pouted in a way that you used to think was adorable when you and he were in a relationship. "But we didn't even get to mess around last night," he whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

You managed to slip out of his grip before he got Cheeto gunk all over you. "Don't ask me to come over anymore if you're just planning on playing video games."

He just looked at you like you had two heads. "Isn't our arrangement to have fun together? You could have played too."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "I'll text you when I'm free, Greyson. Maybe we can hang out then."

You ducked into his bathroom to get changed and get ready to go, and you just knew stopping for coffee wasn't going to be an option. You would have to hope like hell that you'd have time to get coffee and something to eat when you left campus and headed to Bradley's house later.

You already really liked it there. None of his mugs matched. The area rug in the living room had a snag in it. Noah had colored on the wall in the hallway. It was cozy, cluttered and lived in. And you liked the way Bradley and Noah filled the space.

"Stop thinking about him," you mumbled as you drove yourself to class.

Your day went by in a blur. You'd managed to get a snack and some coffee around lunchtime, but your last lecture ran late. You had the choice to stop for food or get yourself cleaned up a bit before heading to Bradley's house.

"Stop thinking about him!" you mumbled again as you stopped in a bathroom to fix your lipgloss and your hair. Surprisingly, you didn't actually look too bad for having slept on a couch. And now you could just make yourself some coffee in Bradley's kitchen using one of his silly mugs.

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

Bradley ran through the locker room like it was a race.

"What's your problem, Rooster?" Hangman asked him, looking like he had whiplash as Bradley dashed past.

"I've got more than one, I can assure you," Bradley grumbled, pulling on clean underwear, gym shorts and a tank. "I need to stop for groceries and get Noah and be home by 6. See you on Monday."

He only had time to stop at the store he didn't like, but it was on his way to get Noah. He grabbed some fruit, macaroni and cheese, a few frozen meals, pasta sauce, and French vanilla coffee creamer. Then he picked up Noah, out of breath by the time he was buckling him into his carseat.

"Can we see the babysitter now?" Noah asked with a smile.

Bradley kissed his forehead. "Yeah, bub. We can go see her now." Bradley was almost as excited about the idea as Noah was.

Your car was already there when he pulled into his driveway at 6:15. Shit, he had told you he would have dinner ready for you. Fuck, he was supposed to meet his date in less than an hour.

"Let's go inside," Bradley said, scooping Noah up with one arm and carrying the groceries and his flight suit in the other. You must have let yourself in, because the door was unlocked. "It's just us," he called out, and you poked your head out of the kitchen. Bradley was already grinning as you smiled at both of them and came to get Noah from him.

"Hey, Noah. Ready to color again?" you asked, taking the child in your arms. Bradley's heart skipped around awkwardly as you smiled at him over your shoulder on your way back to the kitchen. That lipgloss was like a beacon, and he followed right behind you.

"I started making dinner," you told him. "I hope you don't mind."

Mind? Bradley couldn't think of anything better than you, coloring with Noah and making dinner.

"I'm sorry. I was supposed to have done that."

You just shrugged and set Noah down on one of the kitchen chairs. There was an assortment of coloring and craft supplies in front of him, and he got right to work.

"I figured you two got held up. I'm just making spaghetti, nothing crazy." Bradley watched you stir the noodles. Usually when he did that, they ended up in a gigantic clump.

"Well, thanks. I did get some pasta sauce. And I think there are some meatballs in the freezer. Oh, and this is for you."

He watched you turn to face him, and your eyes lit up when he handed you the coffee creamer. It was as if he'd just handed you a bouquet of flowers or twenty bucks.

"Thank you," you sighed softly. "I didn't get enough coffee today."

Bradley turned on the coffee maker for you. "That's pretty much the only thing I always have here. Drink as much as you want, please." He ran his hand through his messy hair. "I could use some too, I think."

"What time is your date?" you asked, turning toward Noah and finding him coloring the page with the hippos on it.

Bradley's eyes went wide. "I have to be there in thirty minutes," he said, grimacing as you strained the pasta.

You laughed. "Guys have it so easy. You can throw on some jeans and a nice shirt. Run your fingers through your hair, and bam, you're ready to go out."

He watched you work from behind, taking in your jean shorts and tee shirt. He should really be getting ready to go, but he didn't want to move away from you. "Nah, women have it easier."

You looked up at him over your shoulder again, something that already made Bradley smile.

"Now this reasoning, I've just got to hear," you said, raising one eyebrow.

"Guys don't need a lot to work with. Makeup and all that stuff? Don't need it. Is it nice sometimes? Sure, I guess. But just hanging out at home, eating popcorn in my pajamas with the right girl sounds pretty good right now."

"Yeah," you agreed, scooping spaghetti into three bowls. "It does. Maybe that's what Noah and I will do later."

And now Bradley was jealous of his three year old child.

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

You watched Bradley inhale a bowl of plain spaghetti in his fitted jeans and blue dress shirt. He looked like any woman's dream date, and you were sure he would end up scoring a second date if he wanted one.

"Bye, bub. Be good," he said, kissing Noah on his forehead. And when he took a step closer to you, a brief flash of him kissing you on your forehead crossed your mind. You bit your lip to keep from gasping, and his eyes tracked the motion.

When Bradley's lips parted before he swallowed hard, you had to reach behind you for the edge of the counter.

"I'll have my phone on. Not sure how long I'll be out. Should be home by ten?"

"Sounds good," you told him in a soft breathy voice. "No rush."

As he was turning to leave he reminded you, "Seriously, you're welcome to eat or drink anything you find."

You just nodded as he strolled through the living room and left to go make some other woman feel like she just won the lottery.

"Hey Noah, wanna sing some songs while I do some meal prepping for you guys?" you asked.

He was now sitting in the middle of the floor with his blocks out. "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star!"

"Good choice." You sang song after song, occasionally stopping to help him with his building projects. You sipped your coffee out of a mug that said My best friend went to Glacier Bay and only bought me this stupid mug while you portioned out spaghetti and meatballs. At least this way Noah and Bradley would have something to get them through the weekend.

You found some frozen chicken, and next time you could make them some fajitas or something with it. But this was the saddest kitchen you had ever seen. Well maybe besides Greyson's.

And that was the first time you had thought about him all day. You hadn't stopped thinking about Bradley and Noah.

"Another song!" Noah exclaimed, and you started Old MacDonald for him. You put the containers of spaghetti into the refrigerator and sat on the floor with your mug of coffee. After building a few towers, you got Noah to agree to make some construction paper crafts.

"Can you make me a dog?" he asked, and you made him a sad looking red dog. That was followed by a weird looking yellow cat and a blue moose.

"Let's make you a crown so you can be Prince Noah," you said, pushing his dark hair back from his forehead. He looked a lot like Bradley. He was so cute, you wondered what his mom looked like. You wondered what happened to her. She didn't seem to be involved at all, and Bradley never talked about her.

"And you can be a Princess!" he shouted.

"Sure," you said with a laugh. And half an hour later, there was a mess of construction paper all over the floor and a giggling child in your arms.

"We can watch one short cartoon, and then it's your bedtime," you told him. He already looked sleepy, and he couldn't stop yawning. He sat next to you on the couch with his yellow crown crooked on his head. Your own purple crown was a little crooked too, but you didn't want to take it off yet.

You didn't want to bother Bradley on his date, but you snapped a quick photo of Noah in his crown and texted it to him. You got an immediate text back.

Bradley Bradshaw: He looks cute. Where's your crown?

You pressed your lips together. Should you send him a selfie while he was on a date? Before you could change your mind, you took one and checked it before sending it to him as well.

Bradley Bradshaw: A crown fit for a princess.

You led Noah into the bathroom to get ready for bed with a gigantic smile on your face. You helped him brush his teeth and get changed into pajamas. You read him three books and got him a sip of water, but you were still smiling.

"Let's leave your crown on your dresser," you told Noah, gently taking it off his head as he sank back onto his pillow. "Good night," you whispered, but he was already falling asleep.

You felt soft and warm inside as you cleaned up the mess on the kitchen floor. You emptied the dishwasher and cleaned the counters. You picked up the toys on the living room floor. When you opened up a bag of Skittles and just started to settle in with a textbook, you got another message.

Bradley Bradshaw: I'll be home soon. Didn't want to scare you again.

It wasn't even 9 o'clock yet! Why was he already coming home? You weren't going to complain. The idea of him kissing his date goodnight or bringing her back here left a weird taste in your mouth. You popped a few Skittles to try to make it go away.

A couple minutes later, when the front door opened, you nearly choked on your candy. God, he was so hot. He was carrying a six-pack of beer and a bottle of wine, and you couldn't help but wish he'd invite you to hang out longer.

"You're home so early," you said from your spot on the couch, and his eyes met yours immediately. "Was your date awful? Or did she take one look at you and bail?" you asked, barely able to contain your laughter as you adjusted your paper crown.

His lips parted as he huffed out a laugh. Then he glared at you as he headed your way. "Okay, Princess. First of all, yes, she was awful."

You were about to ask what happened, but he continued on.

"And second, no woman has ever taken a look at me and decided not to come back for a second one." He was staring down at you on the couch, and now you couldn't remember what you were going to say.

You pressed your lips together as heat flared through your body. "You know, I believe that," you said softly, making him chuckle. "What was wrong with her?"

He just shook his head and heaved a sigh. "Doesn't like kids."

You scoffed. "Well she'd like Noah if she gave him a chance. He's an angel."

Bradley smiled down at you before taking a seat on the couch so that his thigh was rubbing yours.

"Was he good tonight? No tears at bedtime?"

"Mmm, he was perfect," you managed to say as his body heat radiated through his pant leg.

"That's good. Hey, I need a drink. Do you want something?" he asked, holding up the wine and the beer. "I wasn't sure what you liked, but I sure as hell wasn't about to drink a thirty dollar martini."

He had thought about you when his date ended. He had thought about coming back here and having a drink with you. He had thought about what you might like. You needed to catch your breath. "Sure. I'll go grab some glasses." When you started to move, Bradley pressed the wine bottle against your leg.

"No, I'll go. You stay here."

You watched him walk away, and then you buried your face in your hands. You'd never make it out of here with your dignity intact if he kept being so sweet.

"You cleaned the kitchen," he called from the next room. He returned with two mismatched glasses and a corkscrew. "You didn't have to do that."

"I made you some meals, too. Your refrigerator reminds me of my ex-boyfriend's fraternity house," you said, pretending to shudder as he looked at you.

"Ex-boyfriend, huh? Is there a current one?"

You were going to melt. You were going to slide onto the floor and pass out. "No." You were surprised your voice came out as steady as it did. He looked pleased. He was smiling as he sat down next to you again.

"That's good. Wouldn't want to keep you here in the evenings and make him miss you. Wine or beer?"

It took you a second to realize he was asking you a question. "Um, wine." Your mouth felt dry as you watched him open the bottle and pour some for you. "So did you just ditch your date and stop at the liquor store?"

Bradley snorted as he poured himself some wine as well. "Pretty much. I should have known it would be bad from the get go, you know?" he asked, setting the bottle down and clinking his glass to yours. "She likes the opera and martini bars, and I... don't. Not that I can't hang, but I would just rather-"

"Eat popcorn on your couch in your pajamas. Yeah, I know," you said with a smirk. He just looked at you again like he couldn't quite make sense of you. "So where did you meet her anyway?" You picked up your bag of Skittles and ate a few before handing them to him.

"On an app," he said before he dumped a few directly into his mouth.

"You're on a dating app?" You were surprised.

"Yep. My friend hijacked my phone and downloaded it. I don't even know what all she put in my profile."

"Gimme your phone," you said, holding out your hand. "I want to see it."

He just entered his passcode and groaned. "Fine, but I get to finish the Skittles." He handed over his phone and then dumped all of the remaining candy into his mouth. You watched him chew for a moment before you looked down at his phone.

"Holy shit," you whispered.

"What's wrong?" he asked, leaning a little closer to you.

"Nothing, it's just your photo."

"Is it bad? Nat said all my photos were terrible."

You laughed right at him. "No. It's very good."

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

Bradley was not going to be able to keep his cool for much longer. He just sipped his wine, wishing there was more candy for him to stuff into his mouth.

"It's good?" he asked you as you scrolled through his profile.

"Oh yeah. Both of them are. But you need more photos than just the two. Wait, golden retriever energy?" You burst out laughing and let your eyes wander all over his face. "Yeah, I can see that."

"I still don't understand what that means," he grumbled, leaning closer again as you opened the tab for his matches.

"You have almost three hundred women trying to chat you up!"

He just scratched his mustache. "I do? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Look," you said, holding the phone up. "That's insane. Didn't you set any filters?"

"Huh?"

"Filters," you mumbled. "There's gotta be... oh, here we go. You need filters. Otherwise you look desperate. Or like you just want to hook up." You met his eyes, seemingly searching for an answer.

"I'm not desperate. And I don't want to just hookup," he promised, leaning back against the couch and watching you work.

You leaned back too, nearly resting your face against his shoulder. He wished he could just match with you on the app and call it a day.

"Okay, what's the age range you're into?" you asked softly, your purple crown sliding down a little bit on your forehead as you juggled his phone and your glass of wine.

"Um, I guess my age?"

You rolled your eyes at him. "You're only interested in women who are specifically thirty-six years old?"

"Well, no. I guess broader than that," he replied. He was about to say twenty-five to forty, but he changed his mind at the last second. "How about twenty-four to forty?"

You looked at him and smiled. "Okay," you murmured, typing something into the app. "Now there's a little checklist where you can make different selections. Would you date someone with kids?"

"Yes."

"How about a smoker?"

"No."

"What about...."

Bradley listened to you ask him each question, and he answered all of them for you. But he couldn't stop looking at you, curling up closer and closer to him. Your face was so cute and animated. Your eyes were so expressive.

"And now," you said, grinning at him. "It's time for some more pictures. You don't have any other photos saved to your phone?"

"You can look. But it's all just pictures of Noah," he said, realizing too late that when you opened his photo gallery, his most recent one was the selfie you sent him.

"Oh," you whispered, grinning down at his phone before pressing your lips together. Bradley was too embarrassed to say anything, so he just let you swipe through his photos. "Mostly Noah," you said softly, still smiling at all of them. "Looks like I'll just have to take some."

You held up his phone and took a picture of him before he could stop you. "Oh, please don't post that," he told you, reaching for his phone, but you held it up over your head in an effort to keep it away from him.

"What? You looked okay," you said, glancing up at the screen. "It needs a little something extra though." Carefully, you removed your paper crown and set it on his head, your fingers brushing through his hair. They were gone in an instant, but now he was craving your touch. It was insane how close you were to him. You shouldn't be this close.

"How's it look?" he whispered.

"So cute," you said with a laugh, and he let you snap a photo. "We could post this one and say A Prince looking for his Princess."

"Absolutely not."

"Come on! I'm sure anyone would jump at the chance for a second or third date with that!"

Your whole face was lit up when you talked, and Bradley just wanted to play along. "Nope," he said. "It's your crown anyway. Maybe I'll just stick with calling you Princess." He gently set it on your head again, letting his fingers graze your hair.

You sucked in a deep breath. "Only for you and Noah. He did tell me I was a pretty Princess earlier."

Bradley wanted to kiss you. He really thought you would let him if he tried it. He let his knuckles brush against your cheek before he pulled his hand away, causing your eyes to flutter closed while your lips parted.

"Looks better on you anyway," he whispered, memorizing the way your eyelashes brushed your cheek where his hand had just been.

Why couldn't he feel even a fraction of this attraction to either of the women he'd gone on a proper date with? Women who were his age. What was he even thinking here?

It was as if you could read his mind when you opened your eyes. "Well, if you'd just sit nicely for me, I could take an additional photo for the app. That plus the filters should have you matching with people who you're more compatible with."

Bradley swallowed hard. "Fine," he agreed, and you were smiling so much, he couldn't help smiling too. When you showed him the photo, he had to agree that he looked pretty good, and then you were adding it to his profile.

"There," you said, finally handing back his phone as you stood and stretched in front of him. Your arms were high over your head, and your back was arched like some sort of depraved ballerina from his fantasies. Jesus, he knew he could get hard for you instantly, and that thought terrified him.

"Thanks," he mumbled, his voice so deep and raspy.

"Now, instead of a million pointless messages and matches, hopefully you'll have a handful of good ones."

Your words made sense, and he mulled over them as you gathered up your things and headed to the front door.

"You'll text me when you want me again?" you asked softly, and Bradley nearly moaned.

"I will," he agreed, closing and locking the door behind you with a soft groan.

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

Good job, Princess. You just made him more likely to find a match online. Enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #rooster bradshaw x female reader

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97linelover · 8 months ago

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Gym Session - Kim Mingyu

18+ / mdi

summary: when your boyfriend decides to workout late at night you won´t refuse, but your favorite part is always the after session.

content: idolxmingyu x female reader, smut, aftercare, dirty talk, wonwoo being there, some fluff at the end.

wc: 0,8 K

a/n: decided to publish my first Mingyu ff, I always think of Gym Mingyu.

You pushed the button, so the treadmill was going faster, your air pods max on your head were blasting the newest Enhypen album, and the sweat was running down your stomach.

Only five more minutes until you finished your workout session and could finally go home, you were graving your cozy bed.

Sometimes you could freak out at your boyfriend's late-night gym sessions, but you would never skip the chance to see your handsome boyfriend work out, and as far as you know, you also needed some workouts done. The best thing about having an Idol boyfriend was that you both had unlimited Access to the Hybe Gym.

You looked over to your Boyfriend seeing him on the lifting Bench, his entire body was clenched and he let out a breath after finishing. He then looked over to you and winked, his best friend Wonwoo was helping him out.

After three years, he still made you blush.

You tried to focus on the run, and gladly, it worked.

You grabbed the small pink microfiber towel and wiped the sweat away "Gonna change babe" you announced while walking past Mingyu "Yeah, I'm almost done" he answered, and you walked into the woman's dressing room.

The bralette you wore landed in your bag and you took off your leggings, you grabbed some fresh underwear and laid it next to your sports Bag. Before you could go inside the shower, you heard the door open. That seemed odd; there were no women in the gym right now.

Turning your body, you were faced by your boyfriend, who now looked at your entire Body, licking his Lips. "You were making me crazy, baby; doing the squats right in front of me does not seem fair, does it?" he rasped while taking off his soaked tank top, his golden body now fully present.

"But I just trained" you pouted and he smirked at your innocence "Then show me your freshly trained ass baby, show me how well it'll take me" His voice was deep and seductive.

"Over the bench?" you asked with innocent eyes, and he nodded, "Bend over there, Baby".

And you did, you were bending over the bench with your Boyfriend pounding into you without Mercy, the Sex life of you and Mingyu was never a problem. You two were absolutely crazy about each other, and when he was at home, you at least had sex once a day.

When Mingyu was on tour or busy at the Studio you also took care of each other with enough stuff.

And since Mingyu was freshly home from being in Japan for the follow tour you were more than happy that he was so desperate for you. Quiet wimpers left your mouth with each trust he did. His hard breath and your Whimpers were the only things you could hear inside the small changing room. "You can be a little louder, baby; let me hear your beautiful moans." His hand was softly stroking your lower back, a weakness of yours.

"Oh Gyu" you basically whined when he hit your most sensitive spot and you began to clench around him "You're taking me so well baby" his broad figure leaning over your back his hand coming from behind around your throat "always so fucking ready for me, good girl" he squeezed slightly while continuing thrusting "I'm gonna come Gyu" you moaned and you could feel him smirk against your cheek "cream my cock baby, come for me. Let Wonu know who's fucking you so good".

His words made you shiver; your legs were trembling, and your breath quickened; you felt yourself coming undone around him, and you could not stop the moans from coming out.

"Gonna fill you up baby, fuck" he threw his head back and you felt his spurts of cum filling you up, your legs felt like giving up and he directly lifted you up carefully guiding you inside the shower "did so great my love" he whispered, kissing your head and you looked up at him smiling softly "you wore me out" a soft giggle escaped your lips and he chuckled "I know baby, just a quick shower and then we head out" he let you down and turned the shower on.

He washed your entire body with so much love and affection that you once again noticed how lucky you were that this Man was completely yours. When you both were dressed, he took both of your Bags and walked out behind you, where Wonwoo was waiting.

"The next time please tell me a little earlier that you guys will be spending nearly an hour fucking, I'll drive on my own then" he said playfully angry "I'm sorry" you giggled and you all walked into the parking lot getting into Mingyus car.

And you felt yourself falling asleep at the back of the car. The last sentence you heard was Wonwoo saying "I brought it with me, so you will ask her tomorrow?" and with that, you fell into a deep slumber.

#mingyu imagines #mingyu #svt #seventeen #imagine #au #smut #kpop #gyu

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comicaurora · 1 year ago

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What are your thoughts on guardians vol.3? (If you have watched it) I went into it, expecting it went to the garbage like the rest of the mcu, but I was pleasantly surprised by its creativity, trope subversion, and how it wrapped up the previously unresolved arks of its characters.

That's what I've heard!

The thing is, Guardians 3 could be the most transcendent work of cinema ever made, and I'd probably still feel little to no motivation to watch it at this point. It's not Guardians's fault - it's just suffering from the same problem that superhero comics have been struggling with for decades: no matter how good an individual arc or run is, absolutely nothing good lasts or matters in the long term, and the stories are shaped in such a way that "the long term" is the only thing anyone gets to build towards.

Whenever I complain about the MCU I get a handful of people loudly complaining about my complaining, with the general thesis that if I don't like it I shouldn't watch it or talk about it - if I'm not having fun, just stop engaging with it. And the thing is, I have. I am intellectually interested in why this massive franchise is fumbling the bag so hard, which is why I still check in on it sometimes, but I've long since stopped turning to the MCU for uncritical entertainment. And even the good movies or shows with a lot of interesting ideas - good character arcs, fun concepts, interesting planting for future payoff - don't draw me in anymore, because they're hooked into a massive moneymaking machine that will scrap and squander anything if they think it'll make them more in the quarter. It doesn't matter how good the writing is, because the writers are not allowed to tell a complete, finished story, and they have no control over what happens to their characters outside of their own script.

Captain America's arc was set up from literally minute one to answer one burning question at the core of his character: does a world without a war still need Captain America? After that incredibly basic tee-up at the end of First Avenger, half a dozen movies failed to come up with a reason to say "yes," and now Steve is retired for good after getting fumbled through four different storylines that couldn't even pretend that they needed him (the unused Chekhov's Phone from the end of Civil War still haunts me). The foundational arc of his entire character never happened because nobody bothered to keep track of it past a single movie.

Taika did something interesting with Thor in Ragnarok - take away Mjolnir, force him to recognize what it means to be the god of thunder, give him a very Odin-y missing eye - and the very next movie undid all of it. Just kidding, never mind, here's an eye and a new weapon and also his old weapon again, and in one more movie we're even gonna give him his hair back, probably as an apology for all the completely unironic fatphobia we're gonna slather him in for two and a half hours. I'm not even surprised Love And Thunder was such an overblown mess that barely took itself seriously - why would Taika bother trying to give Thor another arc when the powers that be will just roll it back in six months anyway?

I hear Rocket Raccoon has a fantastic arc in this movie. That's great, and demonstrates that he's being written by a writer that deeply cares about him. But he's part of the MCU, and the MCU doesn't let anything end, so if current patterns hold, Rocket is going to continue to serve as quippy plushie-bait for the next dozen movies and none of that depth is going to come through in the long term. Hell, since they're making Kang noises for the Next Big Threat and Kang's entire gimmick is rewriting timelines, literally none of this is guaranteed to matter. By next year, it might not have even happened anymore.

The MCU has successfully shaped itself into a paradigm where the bright spots of good writing are overridden and lost as soon as the writers room turns over, and that makes it really hard for me to muster up the enthusiasm to watch even a really good movie that's locked into the exact same grist mill as everything else. I'm glad people liked it, I hope it gets to stay good this time - I just have no desire to watch it.

#asks #not aurora

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croucify · 8 months ago

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omg i loved your hamzah fic! every time a hamzah fic shows up on the tl jesus sheds a tear!!

feel like it’s so awkward to request but would love for u to write about dating hamzah on the dl & being a guest on the patreon pod

giving relationship advice to some sad slushys while being all sweet n giddy with each other……

STAWWWPP I LOVE THISSSS I GOT U!!!

✶ sweet nothing — hamzahthefantastic x reader

WARNINGS: tooth-rotting fluff, i used the name junia for the slushy that msgd and reader has a dog named loki

A/N: i'm not subscribed to the patreon and i don't entirely know what goes on there BUT i just know hamzah's alone for that???? even in a fictional universe, hamzah still can't read too BAHAHAHA also sorry if this took so long, i had this in the drafts for a while but just finished it now!

the whole day, you’ve been overthinking about being on your boyfriend’s podcast.

you’ve been on out of character before but martin would also be there with you and hamzah.

so here you were, zoned out while your boyfriend explained everything you're gonna do for this episode.

"okay, so... are you ready?" he finally finished talking, now looking at you and then seeing the state you were in. his eyes soften and he walks toward you.

"what's wrong?" he held your hands in his as he tried getting your attention. you look up and give him a smile.

"just a bit nervous," you force a chuckle then he pulls you in to kiss your forehead. "you think they'll notice we're.. y'know." you tilt your head, placing a hand on his chest before wrapping your arms around his neck.

he shrugs in response, hands now on your hips, caressing the exposed skin from your top. "i don't know honestly but i don't think it'll be a big deal for them cause i love you."

you giggle before pulling him in for a kiss.

"okay let's start then!"

the podcast went on like it usually did, you and hamzah spoke about everything and anything you could think of — from the recent movies you've watched to activities you guys have been doing.

the next part of the podcast's segment was introduced by hamzah, he pulls out his phone and looks at his instagram messages.

"okay so this is the first one, i'll read it first and tell me what you think."

you nod at him to start the he starts to read.

"hi hamzah, i'm f-17 and i finish high school very soon. for the past year, i've realized that i lick—oh sorry it's like my best friend who's m-18 and he's had girls chasing him for a while now and he was entertaining them but ended up not having anything with any of the girls. but recently he's been hinting at liking me and flirting with me playfully i guess i don't know if i should let him know i like him, help me please."

you look at him to see if he was finished then he puts his phone down, now turning to look at you. “okay so you like your best friend that sounds familiar,” hamzah gives a teasing look to you with a smirk on his face.

you roll your eyes playfully, inching closer to him on the sofa until your knees are close to each other.

“i can relate to this, i was clueless too if he was flirting with me or not,” you glance between hamzah and the camera as you speak, holding the mic a bit closer. “but in the end it still worked out and he’s… well my boyfriend now!” you both chuckle and you feel yourself blush, hiding your face with the mic.

hamzah places a hand on your thigh which thankfully wasn’t caught in the frame. “oh my god okay, since you’re sooo happy talking about him, continue the story and give our girl… uh… wait what’s her name—oh there it is! junia!”

you get closer to hamzah, now shoulder to shoulder, and interlocking your hands with each other.

“okay so before i dated my boyfriend, he really wasn’t entirely my bestest best friend but more like a close best friend? he had a special place in my heart–”

“oh really what kinda special place?” he nudges you which you ignore.

“and even before i realized i liked him, it was like i’m always wanting to be around him or talk to him a lot.” your gaze was entirely on him as you said this, completely forgetting about the camera recording and a smile started to grow on hamzah’s face, looking down at his lap to try and hide it.

“i’ve known my boyfriend almost 5 or 6 years before we started dating and it really took me a while to realize i was in love with him.” you were already smiling at him, rubbing circles on the back of his hand.

his head shots up and looks at you, eyes a bit wide.

“wait you were in love already?”

you bite your lip to try and stop yourself from smiling bigger. “yeah, dude, i’ve told you this before!” you let go of his hand, the smile still prominent on your face as you punch his arm playfully.

“okay loser, just continue,”

you roll your eyes and scoff jokingly. “but in all honesty, i know i barely talk and post about my boyfriend but he knows i love him soooo much,” you look up at hamzah who was trying to hide his smile by biting the insides of his cheeks.

you lean closer to him before continuing. “so junia! if you really think you both like each other then go for it! you never know what could happen.” you said and it was like you had hearts as your eyes as you looked at hamzah.

he indistinctively puts an arm over your shoulder as the podcast continues, reading more of the messages and giving the viewers advice.

“oh hamzah! i think this one you can help with,” as you were about to show hamzah the message, your dog, comes out of the room and tries pulling you away from hamzah.

“jesus christ, loki, stop stealing my girlfriend.” he muttered but was still heard on the microphone.

you leave the couch for a while and place your dog in the room.

“okay so here’s the message.” you hand him the phone and he reads it.

“hi hamzah, i don’t know if you’re taken or single cause honestly you’ve been sending us mixed signals at the moment but if you are taken, can you help me flirt. i start college soon and i still don’t know how to talk and flirt with girls—okay i see what you’re trying to say here y/n what the hell.” he glares at you as he finally finishes reading and you stick your tongue out at him which he just smiles at.

"just a tip to everyone who's watching, never ask hamzah how to flirt cause this boy can't flirt to save his life!" you laugh as you said the joke, hamzah putting the phone down and covering your mouth to stop you from saying anything else.

the recording went on for a few more minutes, you ended the episode on a positive note since all you did was tease and make fun of each other.

"i don't think i'll ever be invited back here again after that, so bye you guys!" you blow a kiss to the camera before standing up and stopping the recording.

✶ taglist — @cdbabymp3 @noturbabe22 @dabuggh3 @kingvioleta @tumb1rgir1z LMK IF U WANNA BE ADDEDDD!!!

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah x reader #hamzah fanfic #savi's works ✶#hello hamzah!

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makeyoumine69 · 5 months ago

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Till Death Do Us Part (Chapter Three)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader; [no y/n]

SUMMARY: Your curiosity led you into the lion's mouth.

CONTAINS: Arranged marriage/enemies to lovers trope, implied smut, manipulative relationships, drugging, oral sex (Patrick receiving), titjob, dirty talk, misogyny, masturbation.

WORDS: 3.6k

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, hope you enjoy the new chapter!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [AO3].

Swallowing hard, you carefully removed his hand. "Can you tell me why you’re doing this? I know you don't want this marriage to happen either...you've been dating such beautiful women just to end up married to me? What nonsense!" Your nervous chuckle echoed through the modern kitchen of Bateman's apartment. "You know, I think we can compromise. If this marriage is going to happen, we can make it a formality—you can keep your lifestyle and sleep with whoever you want, I won't mind, I promise. But the only thing I want is for you to let me finish my internship. That's all."

You did your best to regain your composure, even though you could see Patrick's eyebrows furrowed in frustration. How would you have reacted if someone had told you ten years ago that you would become Bateman? You would probably be so damn happy, because it was no secret that you had been in love with him since the first time you saw him—a cute little boy with a beautiful smile and freckles.

Patrick clenched his hand into a fist and pulled it away from you gently so as not to frighten you. He listened to your deal and furrowed his brow. 'I'm going to sleep with whoever, no matter what the deal is,' he thought to himself', the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly with amusement. Bateman chuckled and shook his head. "There's no need for this deal...do you think so little of me that you think I need more than one woman?" He grinned and put his hand on his chest as if he was offended by your statement. "Besides, you can finish your internship even if we're married. My father always wanted a doctor..." There was a hint of sadness in his voice when he mentioned his father. "...Besides, I have a maid." He took your hand and pulled you closer. "I... think you're beautiful... Sure, you could be thinner, but that's easily fixable. Of course, marriage isn't exactly what I want right now... but who knows? Maybe it'll be fun." There was a predatory glint in his eyes. If he could just get you to fall in love with him like you did in high school, you would be putty in his hands.

'I can be thinner, sure, but you can't be a better man than you are,' You thought, but you let him pull you closer, giving him the illusion that he was in control of the situation. "You sound like you want to change me to your liking," you scoffed, looking into his hazel eyes. "Will I have to dye my hair blonde?"

It was too bad for you that you had such a good memory, as your mind replayed all the old memories of endless numbers of blonde girls hovering around Bateman like sharks around a piece of meat.

"Aren't you afraid we'll be late?" You suddenly asked with a grin, making it clear that you didn't want to continue this conversation.

"Doesn't everyone want the best for their partner?" Patrick said, his voice lower than before. "I mean... I at least want to be attracted to my wife... So I wouldn't mind if her hair had more... Striking color." He looked at your curly locs curiously. "We'll think of something." All these statements hardly registered as insults to Patrick. Just the truth. Well, some of it was. If this marriage thing was really going to happen, he could at least get something out of it. A little... object to have around the house. If he got tired of you, you'd die in a “tragic accident” and he'd get the life insurance money, being your spouse and all. All he needed was for you to step a little closer into his trap.

Bateman then looked at his watch. One hour to dinner now. He hummed and looked down at you, "I'll get ready. Wait here." He walked away, huffing quietly. It was obvious that nothing sexual would happen before dinner. Whatever. Once in his room, he closed the door—or so he thought. He sat down on his bed and pulled his boxers down, his erection popping out. He flushed as he tried to think of something to get him off. After pushing thoughts of you out of his mind, his thoughts moved to Courtney. Sure, she was married to Luis now... but he always imagined Luis dead in his fantasies. That only made her more attractive to him anyway. He imagined her tanned, aerobic legs spread for him, her pussy winking as an invitation. He smiled and wrapped his hand around his cock, moving it quickly as he bit his thumb to hide his moans.

Five minutes had passed since Patrick had left, and you were still standing in the kitchen, thinking about your recent conversation. As you were about to go into the living room and maybe read something to kill some time, you heard a muffled moan. At first you thought it was coming from the TV, but when you heard it again, your curiosity got the better of you and you decided to find the source of the moaning.

Cautiously, like a cat, you crept into the living room, only to find a small gap in the bedroom door, and although your inner voice tried to stop you, you refused to listen and continued to come closer as if hypnotized. It only took a few small steps to get closer to the door to see Bateman's naked form, his eyes closed and his cheeks flushed. As your curious gaze fell to his groin, your heart seemed to stop at the sight of his meaty, veiny cock, cut and so damn huge that your insides tightened at the sight.

"Oh...my...God…" You whispered uncontrollably before recoiling as if from the fire.

Embarrassed, you felt a searing heat coursing through your body, frightening you so much that instead of just returning to the living room, you ran to the bathroom and locked the door. Then you opened the sink to muffle your desperate gasping. 'Why? Why is this happening? Why did I want to wrap my hands around his dick? Why did I want... to taste it? Fuck, I bet it tastes amazing...'

"STOP!" You yelled at yourself, grabbing the surface of the bathroom counter. 'How am I supposed to behave around him after what I've seen? You cursed, trying to calm yourself.'

Patrick groaned and tilted his head back, gripping the sheets as he quickened his hand movements. The silence in the room was broken by a soft noise. His eyes flew open and he looked at the door to see a figure flashing away from it. "Hey!" he roared, instantly enraged. Before Bateman could do anything he would regret, he pulled his boxers back up and opened his desk drawer. He took out his prescriptions and popped a pill into his mouth, letting it calm him down and quell his emotions.

The man sighed and got up, walking out of the bedroom. He looked around and saw that the bathroom door was closed and went straight to it. He calmly knocked on the door. "Becca." Patrick called, his voice stern and demanding, but still with a hint of comfort. "Come out. You're not in trouble." He huffed and put a hand on the door frame, waiting for you to meet him.

‘Oh my fucking God, he caught me looking at him! What am I going to say? Uhhh, I'm sorry, I thought you were in pain, so I came over and saw you jerking off. FUCK!’

With a deep breath you closed the tap and after a quick look at your reflection you fixed your hair and went to the door to open it. But at the last moment you stopped, feeling your heart pounding so fast because you were sure Bateman was standing right behind the door.

"Can you...can you get away from the door, please? I'll come out." You didn't want your voice to sound demanding, but what was done was done.

Patrick rolled his eyes and took a step back from the door, crossing his arms over his pecs. He tapped his foot on the floor as he waited for you to come out. The man wasn't sure what he would do when you came out. Probably try to persuade you ... tell you that if you wanted to watch him so badly, you could get a better look before you left for dinner.

When you left the bathroom, the first thing you noticed was that Bateman was still wearing only his white boxers, which made you visually nervous.

"Mmmhhm, if you're still not ready to go out, maybe you don't really want to have this dinner?" You asked shyly, closing the bathroom door. "Maybe... you have other plans?"

Wait, what? Why the hell did you ask that?

Abashed, you averted your eyes from his, finding it hard to look into them—a blazing embarrassment burning you from the inside out. 'Don't look...don't look...oh shit, he's still so hard.'

Patrick laughed and shook his head. "No, we can't miss this dinner. My friend wants to meet you." The man said and adjusted the hem of his boxers. He was still extremely hard, which made it uncomfortable to stand. "You know, I just wanted to take care of my... problem by myself, which wouldn't take long." He put his hand back on the doorframe and leaned over you. "But since you want to watch so badly... you can help." He winked. "If you want."

Bateman ran his hand down your arm before moving it to your waist. "It won't take long... besides, I can tell you want to. Why be so reluctant?" He grinned. "I think it'll be an excellent way for us to relieve stress."

Trembling, you gasped at his touch and now you were beginning to regret not wearing a bra as your nipples were clearly visible through the thin fabric of your dress.

You closed your eyes for a second to process his suggestion. "You want me to... you want me to watch you masturbate? Is that what you want?"

'I can't believe we're actually talking about this.' Oh, how many times did you spend the nights touching yourself and thinking about Patrick, but that Patrick was just your perfect illusion, because now you were standing in front of the real Bateman, selfish and arrogant and totally sexy and hot. Dear God…

Patrick laughed. "God, you really are a virgin." He looked down and saw your nipples protruding conspicuously from the dress. That was enough motivation for him to keep going. The man snaked his hand up your back and pulled you closer, pressing his erection against your leg. Then Bateman pressed his fingers against your hip, using all his strength not to rip the dress off you right away. "I want you to go to... our bedroom, take off the dress and wait for me." He whispered, keeping his eyes on you. "I know you have fantasized about this before, Rebecca. You want my fat cock inside you, don't you?"

Even though it had been almost ten days since you had tried to get used to living with Patrick in his apartment, but all that time you hadn't even slept in the same bed, although it was stupid to deny that you didn't look at his perfect body whenever you had the chance.

"I... I can try to help you, but I'm not ready for such radical things as having sex with you," you said, your whole body shaking, but you didn't try to remove his hands. "You said it wouldn't take long...so maybe we can finish this right here?"

Maybe it could mean that you accepted your fate, but when you got on your knees in front of him, it didn't feel strange or disgusting, it felt so fucking wrong, but at the same time so fucking right.

Patrick watched you with hungry eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He didn't want it to be just a blow job... but he'd take what he could get. Maybe he'd let you sleep in the same bed with him tonight. Well.. "Sleep" - he'd see how long you actually slept. Bateman moved his hand to the top of your head as you dropped to your knees. He smiled and pulled his boxers down, letting his erection pop out and hit your cheek. Pre-cum oozed from the tip from his earlier masturbation session. "Good. Let's see what you can do." Patrick murmured and ran his hand through your hair. He knew he'd probably have to do most of the work, you being a virgin and all, but he'd let you take control for a while, show him how you could work your magic.

Totally embarrassed, you didn't even know how to react when Bateman's thick cock almost slapped your cheek—you had never felt more vulnerable and humiliated in your life. And even though this was not your first blowjob, the only boyfriend you had was much smaller, so the huge size difference turned out to be much scarier than you thought.

Closing your eyes, you wrapped your tiny hand around the base of his beefy dick, which twitched in response. "Why... Why are you so big?" You asked naively before giving his swollen tip a few kitten licks.

‘Oh God, if Patrick ever found out about my ex-boyfriend and that we failed to have sex several times because he wasn't that big, Bateman would laugh at me and mock me for the rest of my life.’

Patrick watched, leaning over you and resting his arm against the wall. He watched you work, his face expressionless as you worked slowly. He started to get impatient, but held himself back. "Uh- genetics?" The man smiled condescendingly. "Have you never seen a real man's cock? I mean, I know you're a virgin, but I know you had a boyfriend in high school... some nobody from the suburbs." He chuckled before tugging gently on your hair. "Why don't you open your mouth wide for me?" Bateman crooned softly.

As for the current options, you chose to open your mouth as he asked, rather than tell him about your failures in your sex life. The moment Bateman pushed himself deeper into your mouth, you immediately grabbed his hips, trying to keep control of the situation.

"Mhmmm," you murmured around his throbbing dick, hoping it would all be over soon. Thank God Patrick gave you a short breather. "It... it won't fit, Patrick."

Ashamed, you fidgeted nervously on the floor, not wanting him to know that you were so wet between your legs.

Patrick moaned and tilted his head back, enjoying the warmth of your mouth. He rocked his hips slightly, his head nuzzling the inside of your cheek. He looked down and pulled out of your mouth, listening to you speak. "Oh, it'll fit..." He grinned before moving both hands to your hair. Bateman gripped tightly, then thrust his cock into your mouth, moaning deeply. With a shaky breath he stopped himself from making you deepthroat him. Gradually, the man rocked his hips faster, carefully pulling in and out of your mouth. "Mm, fuck... perfect fit..." He growled under his breath.

You did your best to breathe through your nose, though your eyes were already watering from lack of oxygen. It was humiliating and even painful, the way his cockhead brushed against your soft palate was almost brutal.

'Fuck, what am I doing? What will my family think of me when they find out what a slut I have become?' You could only whimper helplessly, hoping that Bateman would soon reach his climax and let you go, but... what if he decided to cum in your mouth? You leaned on his hips, then one of your hands rested on his perfect abs, signaling him to slow down a bit.

Patrick closed his eyes as he worked his hips back and forth, chasing his own pleasure at a slow pace. He let out a throaty moan and opened his eyes when he felt you tap him. He slowed his thrusts but continued, his eyebrows furrowed. No way you were tapping out already. Bateman sighed and pulled out of your mouth completely, looking down at you with a scornful look. "I think jerking off would go a lot faster." The man said bitterly, keeping his hands in your hair. He moved one to wipe the drool from your lip, tilting his head in thought. He knew that if he got too rough with you now, you'd probably never trust him with sex again... and it would be a pain in the ass to have to wrestle you down like an irate chihuahua every time he had a hard-on. He could just hire prostitutes, but that adds up fast.

Bateman's mocking comment about your lack of experience really offended you because you were trying your best to help him with his "hard" problem.

"Hey, I'm trying, okay?" you suddenly blurted out in an angry tone. "It's not my fault that you're so... huge," you gasped several times, finally able to breathe properly. But Patrick's burning eyes still looked at you deceptively. "Uh, I don't know... how about this?" you knew that it would be so risky, since you could easily get dirty, but you didn't know what else you could do in such a situation. Slowly you pulled down the top of your dress, revealing your heavy tits. Without realizing what you were doing, you squeezed them together and looked up at Patrick, his dick twitching at the sight of your breasts. "Do you...like it?"

Patrick sniffed. 'Could have fooled me,' he thought to himself with an amused grin that only deepened when you called him 'huge'. His eyes widened and his lips pursed as Bateman watched you pull down your dress. He really wasn't expecting it. His eyes froze on your breasts, his cock twitching at the sight. Biting the inside of his cheek, he nodded. "Yeah... did you have plastic surgery or something?" He asked, gently running his hand through your hair. He wanted to fuck your tits. The thought made his cock twitch again. "How about you lying down on the couch? I have an idea... you don't have to do anything. You won't lose your virginity either." Bateman grinned cheekily.

Your face was tense with panic as you tried not to think about what was happening. "No, I didn't have surgery," you replied, slowly standing up and covering your breasts. "They're natural."

Smiling shyly, you said it with a hint of pride, but then your expression tensed as Bateman looked at you, eating you alive with his brown eyes. Then you took a moment to consider whether it was right to follow his order, but did you really have a choice, since it was your idea to start all this madness? Leisurely, you moved past Patrick to his white slutty couch to lie down on it, your dress slipping down more and more as you couldn't hold it in place.

"What... what are you going to do to me?" You asked as you lay on the soft furniture, listening to the man's steady footsteps.

Patrick watched you make your way to the couch and made sure you obeyed him before he went into the bathroom. He fixed his hair in the mirror before opening his medicine cabinet and taking out the spermicidal lubricant. He put some on his hand and smeared it on, his cock twitching in his grasp. The man hummed and walked back into the living room.

Smugly, Bateman looked over at you, his eyes roaming hungrily over your body. "Trust me, you'll like it." He smiled and stood beside you, towering over you as he stroked your head. After that, Patrick moved to carefully straddle your belly, hovering over you instead of sitting on you. With an obsessive determination, he gripped your tits tightly, rubbing his palms against your sensitive nipples before slowly thrusting his cock between them.

The moment his hot flesh slid between your heavy breasts, you literally stopped breathing. It was so obscene, so sinful, so...delightful? Your ex-boyfriend had never done this to you before, so you didn't even know how to react.

"It's so warm," you whimpered, not daring to look down. "I can feel it pulsating..."

Your hands roamed chaotically over the plush surface of the couch as you were trapped under Bateman's massive body like a little bunny cornered by the Big Bad Wolf, doing your best to stifle any provocative sounds that would reveal your arousal.

Patrick nodded, biting his lower lip. "Yeah..." He groaned and thrust faster, enjoying the feel of his cock between your soft breasts. His veiny cock twitched and he felt his balls tighten, signaling that he was getting closer. Frowning, the man growled and gripped you tighter, thrusting faster. The head of his cock brushed against your lower lip as he moved.

"Ohh... yeah... I know you like this..." He moaned, moving at a slightly gentler pace. Patrick grinned over you, his slicked back hair losing some of its shape so that strands fell in front of his eyes.

You could feel his movements becoming more erratic and jerky - the obvious evidence of his impending orgasm. "Patrick," you called his name in a feeble attempt to get his attention. "Please...don't...come around my breasts, please!"

You were simply not ready, and you were afraid that Bateman would stain the dress he bought you and blame you for it. 'What if I suggest he finish in my mouth? Oh, fuck, he'll drown me in his cum.'

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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zenkindoflove · 2 months ago

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Tomorrow is my one-year anniversary returning to writing fanfic. This is going to be a bit of a sappy post reflecting on the last year and celebrating some of my wins/new things I've challenged myself to do.

October 17, 2023 is when I started to write the very first chapter of Burn Forever with Me. I had finished the ACOTAR series about two weeks before and had spent those two weeks reading all the Elucien fic I could. I could feel I had a story in me, so I set out to write it in a month thinking that would be it and I would get it out of my system.

It had been a while since I had written. From 2006-2012 I wrote fanfic very regularly across a few different fandoms. Most of those stories can't be found online anymore. I took a three year hiatus from my Big Bang Theory multichapter fic at the end of 2012, and didn't finish it until 2015 when I had a burst of motivation. I didn't write again until another burst of motivation hit me (Game of Thrones ending) and wrote another one-shot in 2019.

By this point in 2023, I kind of thought my fanfic writing days were behind me. I didn't expect this new resurgence in my life that came about because of this series/this ship. I've tried so many new things writing for this fandom and pushed my writing in directions I never anticipated.

Since last year I have... -published 441,592 words. -published 20 fics (a mix of multichapter and one-shots) -completed four multichapter long fics (huge for me because I used to abandon multichapter fics all the time in my first era) -Written for several ships, including rare pairs, not just my OTP which is all I did in the past -Created many OCs, including my focal OC Alexius. Up until now I thought I was kind of hopeless when it came to writing original characters. -Wrote fanfic for three appreciation weeks -Wrote MM smut for the first time, and lots of it. I have been reading MM smut for two decades, but did not have a calling to write for a specific ship until Eris x Alexius -Co-written two fics with @crazy-ache -pushed myself in what styles of writing I tackle, including writing epistolary for the first time as well as challenging myself to write action/fight scenes which always scared me in the past -world building in general also used to scare me and now I think it feels so much more approachable as I've been filling in SJM's holes. -I think my smut writing has evolved a lot too. While I wrote smut in the past and I think I established what my writing voice/style was for smut, I have really had the opportunity to solidify it and try it in different scenes and contexts. I feel a lot more confident than I did back then.

I wanted to highlight these because I think as writers, we are often too hard on ourselves, and it helps to put into context all of the ways we've improved if we are mindful of our progress. I definitely encourage you to sit down one day and remind yourself of all the new things you've done from your starting place. Making this list really put into context all the ways I've changed as a writer in just a year.

I still have a lot more I want to do and new challenges to face in the next year. I hope if you read this, it does help to show you that you can take long breaks and even if you take a step back from writing, you will always be a writer and it'll always be a hobby you can return to and improve your skills, no matter how long its been.

#fanfic writing #personal achievements #I told myself I would make a new masterlist after a year cause my current one is a hot mess #but eeesh #tackling it sounds daunting now

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hollandorks · 1 year ago

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haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter fourteen

Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she’s expecting.

a/n: I'm back to posting semi-regularly, yay! Not sure when the next chapter will be finished because of the holidays but hopefully it'll be within the next week or so! This one is a little on the shorter side, but the next several will be longer I think! (Since I haven't actually written them--but I have plans and they're lengthy.)

Series Masterlist

word count: 2k

“Oh man,” Martinez groaned as his eyes flicked from Alfred, to her, to the picture, and back again. He gulped audibly. Next to him, Blake the security guard was white as a sheet. “Gordon’s gonna kill me.”

“Gordon’s gonna kill me,” Martinez said for the twentieth time as y/n poured him a cup of coffee to replace the one that was currently still on the foyer floor. “I was supposed to be the one paying attention. I was the one he trusted.” Which, he informed her after maybe the fourth “Gordon’s gonna kill me,” that meant he was Gordon’s most trusted on her security team. He was one who was secretly supposed to make sure no one else was compromised.

“Martinez,” y/n said for the nineteenth time. “No he isn’t. You were doing your job. You already said you didn’t leave, or fall asleep, or take a call. In fact, you did your job so well you ignored my offer of coffee.” She held out the new mug.

Martinez was still nervously mangling the hat of his uniform. He was completely ignoring her reassurances. He went still after a second, then turned eyes that were twice as frightened to her. “Man, Mr. Wayne’s gonna be so mad too, isn’t he? This is his house.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “I’ll handle Bruce. And besides–Alfred’s more in charge than he is, and he already agreed it wasn’t your fault.” Alfred had met Gordon downstairs a few minutes earlier. The elevator and entire lobby had been turned into a crime scene. Martinez and y/n were waiting to give their statements.

Easing Martinez’s fears was much easier than facing her own. It was easy to focus on him and nothing else. Because in the short half hour since she’d first found the picture, each bit of new information was worse than the last. No one on the security detail had been harmed, bribed, or had even moved. The security cameras had been turned off for only ten minutes. Which all meant that someone had enough access to Wayne Tower and its security to get past everything extra that had been set up.

They wanted her to know that they could get to her.

And they were drawing it out. Instead of grabbing her, they were making her wait. Making her scared.

Y/n focused again on the nervous cop in front of her, who was still bemoaning the fact that everyone was going to be mad at him.

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to be mad at you,” she snapped. There was a headache blooming between her eyes.

Martinez quieted, looking like a kicked puppy with a mustache. “Jesus, I’m so sorry, y/n. If I can make it up to you at all–”

“Just drink your coffee, okay? No one blames you.” Y/n took a sip of her coffee. Her hands were still shaking, and some of the liquid spilled over as she set the cup back down. Damn, she was wasting a lot of coffee in one night.

She startled when a warm hand landed atop hers. She looked up and met Martinez’s soft gaze. He didn’t say anything else, but his presence was enough to steady her.

“I’m so glad they didn’t shoot you,” she said after a moment.

They shared a grin. “Hell, me too.”

An awareness prickled along y/n’s spine.

She looked up, and there was Bruce.

His hair was stuck to his forehead and his shirt was on inside out. Her stomach swooped. There really only seemed to be one possibility from those two clues, plus the fact that he hadn’t been home.

Jealousy and shame spread like hot oil through her stomach.

Bruce looked…angry. His eyes were twin blue flames where they stayed locked on Martinez’s hand atop hers.

Martinez scrambled to his feet as if the king of fucking England had just walked in. More coffee spilled as he bumped the table. Y/n half expected him to bow for Bruce. She rolled her eyes.

“Mr. Wayne! I’m so sorry, I swear I was paying attention, I–”

Bruce’s eyes went cold. “And you are?”

“Officer Martinez, we actually met back–”

Y/n’s eyes narrowed. It was her turn to jump to her feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she said to Bruce.

Martinez flinched. Bruce calmly glanced her way then went back to glaring at Martinez.

“When the security of my home has been compromised due to incompetence–” Bruce said, still calm despite the obvious fury in his eyes.

Y/n cut him off. “Oh shut up. Stop talking to him like that. It wasn’t his fault!”

Bruce’s eyes flashed. “Well, it was certainly someone’s.”

“Maybe it was yours, then.” The words rose within her on a tide of anger. God, her life had been threatened again, and he had the nerve to come home from fucking his girlfriend and act like a dick to her friend? “I mean, you’ve been letting the rest of the tower go to shit for years, makes sense that maybe security is a little lax. Especially if you don’t even give enough of a shit to ever be here.”

They were almost toe to toe now, both breathing heavily. From the corner of her eye, she saw Martinez freeze in place, mouth open in shock.

“I give too much of a shit, y/n. If your little boyfriend hadn’t been distracted–”

Oh, y/n thought. Bruce thought Martinez was her boyfriend. And okay, maybe it looked like that, but Martinez actually had a great girlfriend who was in a group chat with them where they all sent memes to each other. She and Martinez wanted to set up a double date with her cousin and y/n.

The realization made the anger ebb, but then she was pissed off all over again.

“What gives you the right to act like this?” she spat at Bruce. He was so much taller than her that her neck was starting to ache from glaring up at him. “After what you did, after what you said, you’re acting like you have any right to one, be involved in my personal life at all or two, be jealous!”

Bruce flinched. Just like the first time it had happened two days ago, it didn’t feel as good as she thought it would.

“Um,” Martinez said in the echoing silence. “We’re actually just friends and I–I’m going to go give my statement now?”

Y/n barely noticed him leaving.

She was so sick of being so afraid, so heartbroken, so…everything.

“You’re going to apologize to him whether he’s just my friend or not,” she said, poking Bruce in the chest. He winced and tried to mask it by looking away. “I already told you, Bruce. I lost you three years ago. Stop acting like that didn’t fucking happen, because it did.”

Bruce’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides. Now he wasn’t looking her in the eye at all. “I didn’t mean–”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, yes you did.” But the words were bereft of the anger that had been present only moments before. She took a deep breath and a step backwards. “I’m just–sick of pretending things are the same, okay? I know you want to go all protective-best-friend thinking Martinez is my boyfriend or that he put me in danger but–I can’t just–Things aren’t–” Suddenly words were failing her. “It’s just not the same, okay?”

She watched as Bruce softened, too. “Y/n, I’m sorry, I–”

“Why did Martinez just run out of here like a bomb went off?” Gordon’s voice cut across whatever Bruce had been about to say.

“Mommy and Daddy were fighting,” y/n said drily, her defense mechanism of humor kicking in. Bruce made a choking noise. “Find anything useful? Like maybe Frank Gallo?”

She could almost hear Gordon’s teeth grinding from across the room. “No.”

“Bruce,” Alfred said from behind Gordon. “We have some things to discuss.”

Bruce gave her one last glance before following Alfred out.

Alone with Gordon now, y/n sank into her chair with a long sigh. She stared at the little coffee spills as if they had personally offended her. “If I spill any more coffee tonight I might kill someone.”

“Now that would be a sight. Looked like you were about to do Mr. Wayne in already.” Gordon chuckled and took the seat across from her. He flipped open a small notebook.

“I’m still not opposed to smothering him in his sleep,” she muttered. “Arrest me if you have to.”

“How about I get your statement instead?”

It didn’t take long. She was basically a pro at giving statements to the police at this point. When she was done, she said, “I’m so…tired of giving statements to the police.”

Gordon regarded her with sharp eyes that didn’t miss anything. “We’re doing everything we can, y/n,” he said softly.

“I know, I know. It’s just–getting shot at was scary and all, but this is my home.” Her voice cracked. She ducked her head and fiddled with her coffee mug so Gordon wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “They’re telling me they can get to me here, too. Where I’m supposed to be safe.”

“I understand completely. We’ll get him. We’ll get them. I have a feeling he might show up on our doorstep sooner rather than later, with something bat-shaped pinned to him and a couple of black eyes and broken bones.” Gordon smirked. Y/n frowned as she realized she hadn’t seen Batman at all. Had he been downstairs? Maybe Bruce hadn’t wanted him to come upstairs. Her frown deepened. “Now, you’re going to have to help me convince Officer Martinez not to sleep in the elevator tonight. Or right outside your door. He’s pretty upset.”

“I’m surprised he still wants to hang around, considering how much of a dick Bruce was,” y/n said under her breath. “But I’ll do my best.”

Martinez took a lot of convincing, but eventually relented and went home to his girlfriend. He made y/n put a chair under her bedroom door handle first, though.

Bruce hadn’t reappeared by the time y/n went to bed.

She laid down, the words of their argument–or whatever the hell that had been–replaying on a loop. Being around him made her feelings go haywire. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so angry at him. The heartbreak of three years ago had taken over her life and she had to admit that the anger felt…almost good. Cathartic. But it also made her feel out of control. She didn’t feel like herself. Being mad at Bruce went against years of instincts. She was used to defending him, or him defending her, to being on the same team together.

She was still wide awake as dawn broke over the sky hours later.

Another thought kept turning over and over in her mind. Frank Gallo–or someone he had hired–had gotten into her home. Her very, very secure home.

She had been afraid before, but it was nothing like this. Her safe haven had been…sullied. They knew who she was, where she lived, and had basically said right to her face that not even Bruce Wayne’s money and power could keep her safe.

Added all together, y/n’s mind simply would not shut off in order for her to sleep.

It occurred to her again that she hadn’t seen Batman at all–had Gordon updated him on what happened? Because he had been in that photo, too. He had kept her alive, which she was certain had pissed off the Gallos. Was he a target? Maybe the picture of them together was a threat to both of them, but only given to her since they knew where she lived.

When she rolled over, her eyes caught on all of her research piled on the opposite side of the bed. Her eyes snagged on those three words: white knight syndrome.

She bet she had her answer about any possible feelings he might have. Even if he had shown up, he hadn’t tried to contact her, to see her, nothing. He was probably sick of having to keep her alive. He was probably leaving it up to Gordon and the police department now.

Despite everyone who was trying hard to keep her alive, y/n felt utterly alone.

Next Chapter

taglist: IF YOUR USERNAME HAS CHANGED LET ME KNOW!!!!!!

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa @widows-writings @missing-loki @exactlyelegantwizard @miriamnox @mavenmoon @eclipsedplanet @spencerrxids @giulia2372 @katara-is-a-goddess-changemymind @janezat @incorrectmarvelquotesss @spiritdetectivel @i-have-no-life-charlie @ilovemybabes @curseyouperrytheplatypus @lightsinmycity @yondiii @spideybv28 @fictionalmansl4t

#bruce wayne x reader #battinson x reader #the batman 2022 #battinson #the batman #batman x reader #the batman x reader #bruce wayne #robert pattinson

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swanimagines · 9 months ago

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DIFFERENT WORLDS | KAZ BREKKER

Summary: Your parents are hosting a family dinner, and you decide to invite Kaz to come with you.

A note: This is most likely a one of a kind fic from me. I got a fluff Kaz request from someone and tried my best to challenge myself, and this came out. But to be honest, I don't like writing Kaz like this 😅 So for those readers who have been begging me to write fluffy Kaz content where he's slightly OOC, here you go, have a taste, it'll be your first and last.

Kaz’s office was as dim as it always was. The oil lamp flickered on his desk as he wrote something in his paper, his dark eyes going over the document every so often. You couldn’t help but stare at him with a soft smile. Despite everything he had done to get into this position - get to be the most feared and most powerful in all of Ketterdam - you had loved him, through all the good and bad things you had gone through. He had grown so much, worked on his trauma with you and finally when he had a good day, you could rub his scalp to ease his headaches and he was able to hold your hand for a few minutes at a time. You didn’t push it of course, you took baby steps and would see where it goes. Almost all skin touching was initiated by Kaz, and that was working so far.

“You’re staring,” Kaz mumbled suddenly and you flinched awake from your thoughts, blinking for a few times before you grinned, looking at your book in your hands.

“Well, what can I do when I have such a handsome boyfriend?” you said, wrinkling your nose as Kaz lifted his gaze to you, cocking an eyebrow. He then smirked, leaning back on his chair, clearly waiting for you to spit it out. You felt your heart thumping a little faster at that. “Okay. Um, my parents are hosting a family dinner in a few days and um, I was wondering if you could come with me? I would like you to meet them.”

Kaz’s eyebrows shot up for a moment before his smirk slowly faded and he lowered his gaze back to the document in front of him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You had anticipated his reaction, actually. It was already frowned upon, a child of a rich, respected and fair merchant hanging out with a future Dirtyhands since you were ten years old. Falling in love with him. Participating in heists. Behaving like a Barrel rat instead of trying to be a good child and give a good impression of someone who would be an heir of your father's business. But that was never you, who you were, who you wanted to be.

“You could have been so much more, child,” your aunt had told you a few years ago, clicking her tongue upon learning who the boy you had been running around with as a child had become. But the truth was, your parents had always been there for you, and you knew they’d give Kaz a chance. Your father had said that the Barrel kills those who are weak, so it’s only natural Kaz had to become something worse than the Barrel. And your mother saw how happy Kaz made you.

Of course, it may have been just respecting your decisions, they had never once said they’d want to meet the man who makes you so happy. Maybe they were truly scared for you, scared of Kaz. That wouldn’t be a wonder, you knew it, but… it had still been gnawing at you, them actually meeting him.

“Why not?” you asked, cocking your head. Kaz sighed, still writing.

“You know why. Your parents won’t approve of me, you’d just leave there with a bad mood.”

You huffed, standing up and walking over to him, settling on leaning against the desk next to him. “My parents know I’m my own person. They’ve seen how happy you make me.”

Kaz stopped writing and looked up to you, his expression softening slightly. “I don’t want to cause any trouble to you. Your family is important to you, and I’m–”

“My family too,” you finished for him, smiling softly. “Just… please, think about it?”

Kaz looked at you for a moment longer, before he sighed. “Fine. I’ll come with you.”

As those words left Kaz’s mouth, you broke into a wide grin, your hand coming up to weave through Kaz’s hair as a silent thank you.

—

Those few days had gone on quickly. Way too quick for Kaz’s liking, judging how nervous he seemed to be. It didn’t show that much, he was extremely skillful to hide it, but you knew him enough to recognise it - for example, the way his index finger tapped against his cane head as you stood at the front yard of your family manor.

“It will go fine,” you chuckled, nodding towards the front door. Kaz didn’t reply, scanning the building before he followed you to the door, and you knocked on the door, smiling at Kaz reassuringly.

Soon, steps were heard from the other side of the door, and the door opened, revealing your father on the other side with a big smile, and you immediately hugged him. After you pulled away from the hug, you gestured to Kaz.

“Dad, this is Kaz. I hope you won’t mind me bringing him with me?”

Your father’s smile faltered momentarily, but then it returned to its normal one. “No, not at all. Nice to finally meet you, Kaz. Please, come in.”

You and Kaz walked along the long hallway with your father leading you, Kaz’s cane clicks echoing through the house. The silence was slightly awkward, but you knew it’d just need some warming up.

You entered the living room, your mother sitting on the sofa with a book in hand. She looked up as you entered and smiled widely at the sight of you, standing up and coming to hug you.

“Hello darling,” she said, pulling away from the hug and for a moment holding your face in between her hands. After a moment, her eyes shifted to Kaz. “Is this gentleman Kaz?”

Kaz nodded and moved his cane in front of him. He was still wary, you noticed, so you laid another smile his way. It was quite funny, really. Kaz seemed like he wasn’t scared of anything, knowing he shouldn’t be scared of anything because most of Ketterdam’s residents feared him. But then he was nervous in the presence of your parents. It wasn’t like he was terrified, but he clearly wasn’t sure if your parents would accept him as part of the family. Being somebody that dangerous definitely would be a scare for a lot of parents.

“Shall we have some tea?” your father interrupted you all staring at each other, and you got to sit at the dinner table next to Kaz, across from your parents.

“So, Kaz,” your father started as your butler started to pour tea to everyone. “You have quite a reputation.”

Kaz nodded after a moment. “I suppose so.”

Your mother shifted slightly. “We’ve heard some… rumours about you. People talk, apparently you’ve done everything in your power to survive in the Barrel. But our child has spoken highly of you, and that means a lot to us.”

That clearly put Kaz at ease slightly more, his shoulders losing their tension slightly as he took a look at you. “I’m glad to hear that.”

The rest of the dinner passed without any major hiccups. Your parents eased out with Kaz, and they even laughed at some of Kaz’s jokes. They asked more about his work, and Kaz replied to them as politely and vaguely as possible - even though he knew they probably guessed what Kaz meant when he said that he had to “interrogate” rivaling gang members sometimes. You chimed it from time to time, telling them how fun evenings you had had with Kaz and the rest of the Crows, how it feels like a little family.

After dinner, you moved back to the living room and your father poured some wine for himself and your mother. You sat in silence once more, before your father cleared his throat.

“I have to say, Kaz, that I was a little apprehensive of meeting you,” he said, swirling his wine glass in his hand. “I knew Barrel forces monsters out of the sweetest children who have to survive alone, and I wasn’t sure if you’d actually have a good effect on my child or if they are just good at pretending everything is fine. But… I now see you truly care for them, and they care for you. That’s what matters to us.”

Your mother smiled, nudging your father. “I think my husband is trying to welcome you into the family.”

—

A few hours had gone by from that, and now you and Kaz were on your way back to the Slat, with you having a big grin on your face.

“That went even better than I expected,” you said, looking at Kaz. He gave you a half-smile.

“Your parents are… more open-minded than I thought.”

“They just want me to be happy. And I am,” you chuckled. “I knew they’d approve of you after they’d see that I’m truly happy with you, but I did expect a little more hesitation from Dad.”

Kaz’s half-smile widened into a regular, small one, as his hand lightly slid to intertwine with yours, making you glance down and then beam at him. He held your hand for a few moments before letting go, and you knew this was one of those rare moments when he was the happiest you had seen him. You then continued your way to the Slat, and you both knew that your relationship had taken its next step forward, yet another wall had been broken.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

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ask-the-royal-absol · 11 months ago

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(It has been one year since I joined the pokeask community with my silly absol. One whole year. How did I get here? Like, damn. It’s just been such a lovely community and I’ve met some truly wonderful people.

I’m sorry I couldn’t get more of you on here. I wish I had the time to draw each and every one of you. This is why I needed the head shot so thank you to everyone who sent it over. Thank you to everyone in this community for being my inspirations, my joy and my friends. I cannot thank you enough. If I could make you all something more to say thank you, I would. (Also forgive me if the image quality is garbage. Tumblr does that sometimes. If you click on it, it'll be clearer.)

I suppose I’ll just go on and say I’ve always admired the community from afar. So many stories I was following. So many inspirational people. The events. The characters. They are all so wonderful. And I followed these blogs for years.

Getting hooked into everything about the ask blog community. At first, I was going to making an ask blog about a royal Goodra/Vespiquen fusion who goes to other places to make political connections for their hive. I drew up a couple of concepts but I didn’t go ahead with it.

I kept following the community, constantly being inspired and amazed by everyone inside of it. I’d wanted to join a community for a while. At first, I joined the Pokémon fusion community. It was fun. I met some great people. But, after a few years, it didn’t fill me with joy. I did fusions on multiple platforms, even making some fusions for the infinite fusions game (they’re still in there). I had a go with commissions. It just became a bit of a chore.

I tried making my own region. It only lasted a month. It left a gap which I didn’t know how to fill. I also did dnd with friends which mostly satisfied this but we didn’t do it consistently enough. I definitely miss doing it. I probably did fusions for 6 years. The blogs are still up. There was nothing I wanted to draw consistently.

Near the end of last year, I had a really tough time. My mental health took a really big dip and I was struggling. It was an incredibly dark time. I didn’t have much going on. Maybe we were doing dnd. I don’t remember though. I started drawing Pokémon because I wasn’t in the mood to draw dnd art.

I don’t know why but I started to draw an absol. I think it may have been inspired by my current dnd character. As I was drawing this absol, ideas started to form in my mind about who this absol was and the world they were from. Ideas kept flowing and flowing.

Once the absol was finished, I drew another character, and another and another. And I just kept drawing. Soon, I started drawing maps and a prophecy for this absol and their world. The name Destino came from the word Destiny. It brought me so much joy. I worked on it for a few days and put it to the side.

Then came around the 27th December 2022. I looked back on my planning for this world and thought perhaps I could turn it into an ask blog. At first, I was so nervous. I didn’t want to go through with it. My partner convinced me to make the blog. That’s when I began to draw the first post. And on December 29th 2022, I created the blog and made a reference post for Destino.

Soon, the first post was posted and I got asks. Exciting stuff! And it was so much fun deciding how Destino would respond. More asks kept coming and I eventually started sending asks to others. The most exciting part would have to be seeing people follow me who I was a huge fan of. Gonna be honest, I’m still so incredibly excited when talking to these people and when they like my stuff.

My love for this blog grew and I’ve spent a lot of my time working on it. I have loved each and every moment of it. It was fun having this smug, egotistical absol interacting with many characters who I am a huge fan of and entertaining to see their reactions. Destino was becoming a bit of a thing. Memes were made of Destino. Destino was insulting every legendary they could come across. For me, it was hilarious. And it seemed others were enjoying their antics too.

I am incredibly thankful each day with every interaction, every like, every follow, every reblog, etc. I’ve had. I’m grateful for this entire community. Every one of you has been so friendly and I love talking to you. This community has filled a void which I wasn’t sure would be filled. And I hope I can continue loving being in this community for a while. Destino is going to stick around for a while. I’ve got big plans for them and I hope to enjoy this journey with you all.

Thank you everyone. I hope I can continue to work with you all and have fun! Let’s get ready for another year of Destino.)

#pokemon ask blog #pokemon #pokemon askblog #pokemon oc #ask blog #ask the royal absol #destino the absol #pokeask #ask #askblog community #pokeask community #mod goomy #long post #fanart Friday

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they-call-me-emmy · 1 year ago

Text

The Past is The Past 3

Part 1 and 2 on my account <3

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tara was faced with her 3 ghostface, and this time got so seriously injured she was in a coma. When she wakes up, she has no memory of the past 3 years...including you, her girlfriend.

Notes: Imagine this as our gals scream 7...since Jenna apparently quit and left me fucking DYING

Warnings: Uh, injury, violence, blood, our boy ghostyface with knives. Coma and memory loss if thats even a warning. Swearing. Uhm. Shitty 7th grade writing.

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Tara pushed the food around her plate using her fork. She'd barely eaten a bite all dinner, busy glaring at Sam and avoiding any sort of eye contact with Y/N.

"So." Sam began, putting a hand to her mouth and pausing, to finish chewing. "Y/N. How's life been treating you? I haven't seen you around in a while."

There was a second of silence as Y/N finished her food.

"Fine." She stated, setting her fork down on her napkin. "Work's been rough, but nothing besides that."

Sam nodded. "You work at that bookstore, right? The one with the bunny in the window? I drive by it on my way to the grocery store."

Tara had no idea what they were talking about. She hadn't gone shopping since she'd come home. What bookstore? What bunny? It was like listening to people speaking nonsense.

"Yeah. That's the one. Shifts have been longer recently, we're low on staff."

Sam nodded, continuing to eat. Y/N cleared her throat.

"Tara," Tara startled from her daze at the sound of her name, in Y/N's voice no less. "Sam's been telling me your getting back into horror? Is that true?"

Tara glared at Sam.

"I've always been into horror."

Y/N nodded, pursing her lips, sensing the tension in the room. The need to just...not talk.

"I was-" Y/N cleared her throat and took a sip of water. "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to watch some of your favorites...y'know, the few we watched in the last year you really enjoyed? I wouldn't mind re-watching them with you."

Tara couldn't help but feel weird. She's watched movies with this girl. She'd watched horror movies. She'd watched horror movies and enjoyed them. With this girl? This girl she hardly knew now?

"Maybe."

Y/N nodded.

"I've been busy lately." Tara pushed a cooked carrot into her napkin. She didn't like those.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Tara, you've been sitting on your ass for the past week-"

Tara suddenly stood up. "I'm finished. I'm going to go wash the dishes." She took Sam and Y/N's plates and left without another word.

Tara knew they'd talk the moment she left. She hovered at the door, running the sink in the background so they'd think she was cleaning. Maybe they'd mention the big thing tonight. Maybe they'd say something that would finally help her understand her past.

"I'm sorry she's being an ass." Sam's voice was muffled through the kitchen door.

"It's fine. I wasn't expecting a heartwarming welcome. I mean, come on, I'm practically a stranger to her. And it's hard on her too, Sam. Remember she's struggling too."

Tara would have felt mad if anyone else had said this, as if they pitied her and felt sorry for her state of mind. But hearing those words, those words in Y/N's sweet voice...felt like reassurance that someone understand how she'd been struggling.

"I know...I'm trying to get her to...connect. Y'know? Re-enforce those bonds...god, you two were like peas in a pod. I can't imagine how long it'll take for that to be back, especially with her new...attitude." Sam sounded empathetic, but there was still a twinge of annoyance in her voice.

"I'm not expecting it to just click again...but I can wait. I'm assuming you haven't told her?" Y/N asked.

Tara could feel her heart beat a little faster. Was this it? Was she about to learn what this secret was that everyone seemed so desperate to avoid?

"No. I don't feel like it's the right time. I mean, you see the way she is. Putting that much more pressure on her is bound to do no good."

"You have to tell her at some point." Y/N said. "You and her would both prefer you telling her rather then her randomly learning one day, or even worse, getting a flash of memory from it. The doctor did say those happen, especially with traumatic experiences, at least in her case."

"I don't feel like now is the right time."

"Soon, Sam. Please. The girl deserves to know. This is important."

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I'm a slut for comments people.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter

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allthingsfangirl101 · 7 months ago

Text

Out of The Blue – Keys

Masterlist

I walked into my apartment and kicked off my shoes. I went upstairs and changed into a pair of leggings and an oversized flannel. The second I got downstairs, I collapsed onto the couch.

Right out of MIT, I got a job as a traveling coder. I meet with business professionals and owners and help them build their websites. After the first meeting, everything I did could be done from home.

I grabbed my laptop off my desk and took it to the family room. I put on the TV show I was currently binge-watching and slowly started working on my newest project. I was finishing up for the night when I glanced over and saw how late it was. I was just about to close my computer when it dinged. With furrowed eyebrows, I checked my email.

Walter McKeys.

My heart flipped and then plummeted into my stomach. I haven't talked to Keys since college. We were in a lot of classes together. We constantly studied together and helped each other with our homework. I was the one who gave him the nickname "Keys". He gave me the nickname "Buggy". He used to say that I was annoyingly good at finding and getting rid of computer bugs.

Memories came flooding back as I read his email.

Hey Buggy, It's been a long time. I'm sorry for this random email, but I've been thinking a lot about you lately. That's probably weird. To be honest, I don't really know how to explain why I'm emailing you. I've never been very good with words. I'm only good with code. You know that. How many times did we have to do a presentation and all I could do was the coding part? You were always the one who did the presentation and the talking part.

Sorry. I'm email-rambling. Anyway, I've been having this issue with a code and AI. I finally made the connection and figured out the problem. I only figured it out because of you. I know that doesn't make sense, Buggy, and I'm sorry. Please watch the video attached and maybe, just maybe, it'll make more sense.

Sincerely, Your Keys

As I finished the email, my breathing was unsteady, almost coming out in short gasps. I reread it over and over again, my mind spinning with questions. I opened the attachment, but for some reason, I couldn't play it. When I finally pressed play, Keys popped up on my laptop screen. From the looks of it, he was at his office late at night.

Why would he film this at his office and send it to me despite how late it was?

That question made me finally press play. I held my breath as Keys started talking.

"Hey, Buggy," he smiled at the camera. "I know this is kinda weird, but I need to get some things off my chest. I'm not sure if you know this but for the last year, I've been working for Soonami on a game called, "Free Life". Lately, I've noticed something. . . Strange. Before I explain, I need to confess something. A while ago, I created a game with a friend of mine called, Life Itself. To be honest, Y/N, I used part of your code from our senior project."

Keys looked away from the camera and sighed. When he looked back, my chest tightened at the look on his face.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N," he whispered. "I should've. . . I changed it a little bit. Your code was focused on programming. All I did was adapt it for gaming. I'm sorry. I know I should've called and asked for your permission. I really hope that doesn't make you hate me."

He cleared his throat and took a minute to get his thoughts back on track. "Anway," he continued, "Soonami bought "Life Itself". They claimed to have shelved it, but my friend Millie found proof that they didn't. For you to understand what happened, I need to introduce you to Guy."

I smiled when his scream split and I saw the character he started talking about. "He's supposed to be an NPC, but something changed. Now, from the beginning. . . Guy's behavior is much more complex than it should be, thanks to our code."

My heart jumped when he called it "our code".

"But he's still stuck in "Free City,"" he continued. "He's still stuck in his life, this loop. And then, something changes. He comes to life. Why? And then I remembered. One of the characters from "Life Itself" was this guy that I nicknamed, "Lovelorn". And he was someone who was designed to never meet the right person. It was essentially the building blocks of the character. But he never stopped hoping that he would meet "the girl of his dreams". So I had to base this girl off of someone. . . and who better than the person that I was sitting next to every day? You."

My breathing sped up and I felt my heart jump back into my throat as he continued to explain to me what was going on.

"But then, one day, he meets Millie in "Free City", and once he sees her. . . he can never be the same. He was supposed to feel doomed, but instead, he feels alive until eventually, he is alive. Millie changed him. You wrote the code that was able to be changed by one person. One connection. You brought him to life, Y/N. You wrote the code that brought him to life. And he was alive because he met the one person he'd been waiting for his whole life. And I had to make it realistic, so. . . I based it off of. . . You. The woman of his dreams. . . she was the same as mine."

I hit the pause button, my heart beating against my chest. I ran my fingers through my hair as I tried to put my thoughts together.

"But Millie is the one who met him," I mumbled under my breath. "She's the one who brought him to life. . . I just wrote his code."

I grabbed my bag and headed to my car but stopped when I realized what time it was.

I went to bed but as soon as I got up, I found Soonami's address. I anxiously drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I got close. I signed in at the front desk and headed up to the offices. The entire time I was in the elevator, I kept repeating what Keys said in the video.

"Hello, gorgeous," a guy smirked. "I'm Mouser. And you are?"

"Not looking for you," I said harshly. "Where's Keys?"

"Not here," he shrugged. I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair.

"You got an address?"

* * * * *

When I pulled up to Keys' apartment complex, my nerves made me freeze. I wasn't even sure what I was going to say to him when and if he opened that door. I barely found the courage to park my car and head up to his place.

I got to his door but hesitated before knocking. I held my breath as I waited for him to answer. The longer it took him, the closer I got to turning around and running away. I was just about to when the door opened.

"Y/N," Keys stuttered.

"Hi," I said, my voice softer than I wished. "We need to talk about that video."

He sent me a small smile and nodded. I took a shaky breath when he opened the door and moved aside for me to come in. I walked in and instantly started nervously playing with my hands.

"Have a seat," he invited me.

"Nice place," I mumbled as I looked around but didn't sit down.

"Thanks," he chuckled, clearly embarrassed. He cleared his throat before attempting to break through the tension. "So, that video. . ."

"Millie brought him to life," I cut him off. "Not me."

"It was your code," he shrugged with a small look on his face.

"You said I was the woman of your dreams," I continued, "but your friend Millie is the one who brought him to life. Not me. So according to that, she should be the woman of your dreams."

"But she's not," he said, slowly taking a step closer to me. "Millie has a lot in common with you. She loves bubblegum ice cream, swingsets, and Mariah Carey. So yes, Millie is the one that Guy ran into, but it was the similarities that he fell for. In fact, if you had run into him in the game, you would have brought him to life."

"Keys, this is. . . I don't understand. . . I just. . ."

I cut myself off when he leaned in, his face inches from mine. "I know I was rambling," he whispered, "but there is one important part in what I said."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've had a lot of time to think about this," he continued. "You're the woman of my dreams, Buggy."

Before I could say anything, Keys leaned in and gently pressed his lips to mine. My mind was swimming as I slowly kissed him back. He broke the kiss with a small smile on his face. We looked into each other's eyes as we struggled to catch our breaths.

"I know this was completely random," he whispered with his forehead pressed to mine, "but I couldn't stop thinking about you, Buggy. Every day I fixed the coding issues with Free Life, I thought about you. I haven't stopped thinking about you since the night we graduated from MIT."

"That video. . ." I whispered but didn't continue.

"Was my cowardly way of admitting my feelings for you," he said with a small chuckle as he leaned back. I held my breath as he reached forward and gently grabbed my hands, slightly pulling me closer.

"Say it," I said under my breath.

"Say what?" He asked, slightly tilting his head.

"Confess to me what you confessed in the video."

Keys smiled as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him.

"You are the woman of my dreams," he whispered. "I created the character Lovelorn and kinda based him off of me. I designed him to never meet the right person because I was worried I never would. As I was creating him and "the girl of his dreams", I started basing her off the first girl that came to my mind. You. I thought about what I felt as we sat next to each other and worked on our senior projects. I thought about how I felt when you helped me with my code. I thought about how badly I wanted to be more than just coding partners. You, my dear Buggy, are the woman of my dreams."

I grabbed his face and pressed my lips to his. I felt him smile as he tightened his arms around my waist and kissed me back. We let out matching laughs as we fell back onto his couch. He hovered over me, looking deeply into my eyes.

"I've missed you, Buggy."

"I've missed you too, Keys."

#keys imagine #walter mckeys #walter mckeys imagine #joe keery #joe keery imagines #free guy #keys x reader

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yelenasdiary · 1 year ago

Note

For flufftober: Middle sibling reader x older sister natasha and younger sister yelena. Reader was recently released from the subjugation of the red room and so theyre throwing a little welcome home party for reader. With cake and streamers and a polaroid camera. Some terrible music playing that they all jam too as they down too many bottles of vodka?

New Memories

Pairing: Older Siblings! Natasha & Yelena x Younger Sibling! GN! Reader

Summary: After a little over a year of therapy, your older sisters throw you a welcome home party.

Warnings: Fluff/Comfort, Mentions of Red Room, Subjugation, Drinking, Language Warning | 1.3K

Translations: Sestra (Sister),

AC: Thank you for requesting this, as I mentioned, I have combined with request with another, I hope you enjoy! x

October Special Masterlist

"Sestra, it'll be fun" Yelena argued with her Russian accent coming in thick. It was Halloween and your sisters, Natasha and Yelena planned a little party for you with the help of the other Avengers, Alexei and Melina. It's been a few short months since your year of therapy had gone from three sessions a week to weekly appointments, your therapist was proud of how far you'd come since your sisters saved you from the subjugation of Red Room and freed you from the control of General Dreykov. You hated that they wanted to throw a party in your honor, you never liked the fuss being about you.

"Lena, I know you and Nat are happy for me and trust me, I am proud of myself as well but I just don't think I want to have a party thrown to celebrate" you replied before letting your eyes fall back down to the book in your hands.

"It is not just to celebrate how far you have come" Yelena spoke as she took a seat at the end of your bed, forcing you to put your book down once more. "It's about making new memories, ones that are real, ones we get to keep and talk about in years to come. Natasha won't admit it but I know she would love to fill the photo album she has on her bookcase and I would like an updated photo of the three of us" your older sister by 2 years went on.

She had a point and that made it hard for you to turn her down. Looking back on the memories you had with your sisters, it was hard to remember. You were only 4 when the mission in Ohio was completed and you were ripped from Natasha's arms. After that, it was blurred moments of fake Christmases, thanksgivings and other holidays just to give you three a moment of something that felt somewhat normal.

"Fine" you playfully rolled your eyes at the blonde, "will Kate and Wanda be there?" you asked with hope. Yelena nodded, "who do you think were the first to jump at the idea of baking a cake" she replied.

"A cake? Really?" you asked with a slight frown, of course your family were going to make this a big deal and honestly, for Yelena to say this would be fun was a comment you never thought she would say about a party.

----

Music mixed with laughter and chatter filled the room, Kate wandered around taking polaroid photos of everybody and placed them in a small box for you to look back on at a later date. Eventually the room became quiet, around midnight people called it a night and headed to bed leaving you, Yelena and Natasha still up.

"Now we can really party" Natasha smiled as she placed a bottle of vodka on the table along with three shot glasses. "Amen to that!" you replied in a sigh of relief, too much socializing and now you were finally going to have the party you truly wanted with your sisters.

Yelena poured three shots as you and Natasha threw streamers at one another, you started it of course. "Stop acting like children, lets drink!" Yelena announced as she carefully yet skilfully sliding the shot glasses down the table to you and Nat without spilling a drop. You downed your shot the moment it hit your hand, the burn of the alcohol in the back of your throat reminding you why you loved vodka so much.

It was long before the bottle of vodka was finished, and another was placed on the table. Crumbs of cake slices littered the wooden table while the three of you made new memories, jokes and brought up old, good memories.

"SO BYE BYE MISS AMERICAN PIE, DROVE MY CHEVY TO THE LEVEE, BUT THE LEVEE WAS DRY" the three of you sung in sync, now each holding a bottle of vodka. Wanda and Kate had come down from upstairs and watched the drunk mess unfold. You were laughing, when Yelena pushed you to the floor for standing on her foot for the 5th time. Natasha had the polaroid camera in her hand taking very drunken and blurry photos of you and Yelena before turning the camera on herself to snap a selfie.

"Do you think Tony would get made if we stole one of his suits? I mean come on! those things look so fucking sick!" You looked between your sisters. Yelena turned to Nat, "I'm with Y/n, let's do it!" she said before taking another mouthful of vodka from the bottle.

"Should we stop them?" Kate whispered to Wanda who shook her head, "no, let them have their fun" the Sokovian replied before gesturing her head towards the stairs as a way to say let's go back to bed. "I kind of want to be awake early to see Tony's reaction" Kate whispered once more as she followed Wanda up the stairs.

"Alright but you gotta be quiet!" Natasha said, bringing her index finger to her lips in a shush motion.

Cheeky smiles tugged at the lips of you and your sister as Natasha led you both down the hall to the elevator, pressing the basement button.

----

"Can somebody tell me why the fuck I found 3 of my suits scattered around the damn compound?!" Tony asked with pure anger in his voice. Your head was pounding, it had clearly been a while since you got drunk as much as you did last night.

"Tony, shhhh!" you looked up at him before taking a sip of your coffee.

"Nothing is broken, nothing to stress about" Natasha tuned in, taking her hang over a lot better than you were. She looked as though she didn't even drink last night.

"That's not the point Romanoff and you know it!" Tony snapped, "the three of you are suspended until further notice so I suggest you start thinking about cleaning up the mess you made!" he added before storming out of the room.

"What mess?" you asked with a frown as Natasha sat down across from you at the dining table, peanut butter toast in her hand. "Oh, that is on you and Yelena to clean" she replied with a light chuckle as you rested your head on the table to catch a few extra minutes of shut eye.

Yelena came into the kitchen just how Natasha did, as if a hangover was non-existent. "HA! Looks like somebody needs a little more practice on how keep their vodka down" she spoke, her loud voice making your head pound harder than before. Slowly, you lifted your head to look up at your sister, giving her a look of death has she stole Natasha's mug of coffee, "please shut up" you replied before letting your head drop to the table once again.

"You and Y/n have to go clean up the yard today" Natasha said after swallowing a mouthful of her toast. "Yeah, I figured" Yelena chuckled, bringing the mug to her lips, "you better go take a shower sestra" she encouraged you only to earn a mumble and grumble in return as you took yourself to the showers.

"Another round tonight and they will be fine" Yelena looked at Natasha before taking another sip of Nat's coffee, Nat just chuckled, "I don't think they could handle another round" she replied as Wanda walked into the kitchen.

"You three had fun last night" she smiled softly as she placed a rather large handful of polaroid on the table in front of the two Russian sisters. Natasha reached for the small photos and flicked through them while Yelena watched, a smile tugging at both sisters lips as they saw how happy they looked, how much fun they had and how finally they had photos with real moments, real emotions and real love.

"Yeah, one of the best nights" Natasha spoke softly.

#yelenasdiary asks #scarletwidowblackwitch #fanfiction #yelena belova #marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #yelena belova x reader #flufftober

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