#and so when I got to the hotel room and looked at it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chaos-vixen · 3 days ago

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@starry-bi-sky AAAAAA it’s 1:01am

I’m reading all the dp x dc I can find

And I want more scenes!

Like- Vlad has a business meeting in the morning, so Danny is forced to stay at this fancy ass expensive hotel (small miracle that Vlad got him his own fancy master bedroom type deal) overnight. But before that, we need to leave the party >:)

The Gala was set to end for roughly another hour, maybe hour and a half.

Danny didn’t give a shit.

So what if people parted a little when he walked back into the room. He didn’t give a shit.

He didn’t give a shit when he locked eyes with Bruce across the room. (not with the same damn subtle furrow in his brow he alway had when he was concerned but in public)

He didn’t give a shit when Vlad gave him a thinly veiled stink-eye. (Damned piece’s shite! What right- what right does that smug self serving bit-)

He didn’t give a shit when Tim found him in the bathroom trying to cover at least some of that lingering smoke smell (Didn’t give a when Tim gave him some of his cologne– that it hid the smell decently. Didn’t give’a when he told Tim that he was “Just a bit tired, head’d ou’early”. Didn’t give’a when half way through his goodbye his accent slipped with a wet voice crack. Didn’t give’s when Tim looked him with something horribly close to pity, made worse by the undertone of understanding)

Didn’t give anything (no reactions. No evergreen left for that or caring) when Vlad saddled up to him at the exit wondering just where he was going.

Did’t give a blessed thing about the one paparazzi guy touching it out to see who the first to leave was, not the final flash (heh, just one bright flash of light-) as he stepped and followed the sidewalk to where the cars where, knowing that Vlad was probably seething behind him.

Danny felt numb all the ride back in the car, up in the elevator, and down the hall to their neighboring rooms. Where Vlad, in his infinite wisdom, poked the bear.

“You know,” Vlad started, in all his slimy evilness (yes evilness- sue him, Danny’s too tired for better adjectives), “Ypu have cost me quite a bit of grief tonight, first with the cameras, then wondering off, then with this! Why, it’s like you want me to stop lending a helping hand to your parent’s funds! Or my little nudge for Jazz’s tuition?”

Danny cares. He doesn’t care about much. But Jazz?

He looks Vlad dead in those greedy, self-important eyes, his breath fogs, his rage and grief weighing the air down, thick like blood, suffocating– “You touch her, you threaten her or what she loves, and you’ll face Rath.”

Then he turns on his heel and slams the door (albeit not too hard, it’s a hotel) firmly shut.

A glance to the bed, perfectly inviting and soft. The alarm on the bedside table reads 10:37.

Whatever logic is left in his frizzled brain says that a shower would might help, but the rest says that bed is way to comfy to ignore. The only good thing to come of being forced to travel with Vlad was that the beds were usually not too bad.

Danny ends up staying up late, time slipping away (‘Why are there so many cursed metaphors?’) surfing through florist after florist for the perfect selection (Jay had always loved red—they’d joke about what color their suits would be if they where one of the richy-rich— also the zinnias where weirdly hard to find), though honestly there weren’t as many florists as there typically would be for a city as big as Gotham.

‘Probably Ivy’s fault’ he thinks tiredly, glancing at the alarm 1:07 seems to jeer from its spot on the bedside table.

With a big stretch and a groan, he decides with a mutter, “welp. ‘M already dead anyways”, rolls off his bed and heads to the balcony for a smoke.

Just as he stands, a ding sounds from his phone.

And for one, ancient’s forsaken moment, his stupid, hopeful mind thinks ‘it’s him’-

It’s squashed the the parasite it is.

Jazz, checking in, seeing if he’s alright. He flips back down on his bed, send a quick reply, how he’s turnin’ in early. He doesn’t bother trying to say that the Gala ended early- even hundreds of miles away Jazz could sniff his bs.

He also should maybe sleep. She concludes the same.

And eventually (but not peacefully, never peacefully) he drifts into the darkness.

——————————————————————————————————————

The morning is bright- because idiot tired Danny didn’t bother to close the fucking curtains.

Thankfully, Gotham isn’t exactly early riser either (smog doesn’t let much sun in until it’s bright enough to stab through the cloud coverage). This allowed a peaceful and lazy wake up all up until the Thud Thud on his door. Clock reads 8:23.

‘Never too early for the bullshit is it, dear universe?’ He thinks bitterly, dragging himself out of bed, mentally trying to prepare for whatever this could be.

There, as expected, stands Vlad, with his usual smug self standing straight with a slight smirk- until he sees an unkempt Danny, still in his suit and that smirk drops to a distasteful sneer.

With an upturned nose, “Disgraceful, anyways, I’m headed off to a business meeting elsewhere in the city. Plan leaves at 3 o’clock.”

Danny gives a slight nod, and immediately shuts the door again. That enough frootloop, especially since he hadn’t even had caffeine yet.

The promise of drugs (the legal kind) has his mind finally figuring out a course of action: shower, dress, boy flowers … then a visit to Jay. A proper visit.

So, with a list of tasks in mind, he sets off to do just that

Unbeknownst to him, a certain revenant was just waking up after not falling asleep 3 hours ago.

I desperately want to keep writing- but my shift starts at 7:00 am tomorrow and it’s already 2:24 am! Plz continue this!

also quick headcannon(s)

Danny still smokes the same cig brand Jay use to carry, the first cig he ever smoked, Jay’s brand

Jay is heartbroken at this broken echo of who he knows and loves (/pl)(present tense because angst) crumbled by grief, pit back together given hope just to have it all ripped away again

Alfred wants to see his honorary grandkid

Since Young Danny insisted on helping with dishes

Aaaand it’s now 2:30am

I’m probably screwed a wee bit. Oops!

*2:32

Childhood Friends Danny and Jason

(cw underage smoking / smoking as a form of bonding) (cw Jason thinking Danny killed himself but its only for a moment) (cw depictions of murderous intent? Danny wants to murder the Joker and he's a little descriptive about it

This is… aha. Massive. Word count check: 9k+

this has probably been done before but hey, everyone loves a good trope and I wanted to share my take on this idea. 👏👏 So, Danny Fenton and Jason Todd being childhood friends. The Fentons lived in Crime Alley for a good long while during Danny's childhood. Nobody wanted to fund their research and Jack and Maddie struggled to keep any form of work for a multitude of reasons. Jack worked in construction due to his big build and Maddie had another job elsewhere.

Danny and Jason were friends during that time, really great friends. I'm not super solid on how they met yet but I do know it involves Danny committing petty crime and Jason deciding to jump in and help when he sees Danny struggling. Danny was distrustful (as all crime alley kids ought to be) but they eventually became thick as thieves, committing petty crime together.

While it's all too easy to make Danny the weaker one of the two with Jason protecting him, I actually really like the idea that they protected each other. Growing up (essentially) on the streets means Danny forcibly had to grow a backbone unless he wanted to get trampled all over. He is just as willing to scuffle with the bigger kids as Jason is, and he and Jason regularly fought each other whenever they needed to let off steam, or just because. They were a duo, having each other's backs in tough situations.

(Sometimes the pair of them would sneak out at night and try and get a glimpse of Batman and Robin while they soared through the air. It was like a game between the two of them to see who could spot the dynamic duo first. When they were a little older, Jason would steal his dad's cigarettes and share them with Danny while they searched for Batman and Robin)

So when Danny has to move away when they're eleven years old, it's pretty safe to say that Jason didn't speak to him for a week afterwards. Nothing Danny did could persuade him to otherwise, even when Danny insisted that it wasn't his fault and that he didn't want to move away either, but he didn't have a choice in the matter.

When the week was over, Jason climbed through Danny's window and sat in his room, dead silent and looking upset. he didn't speak until Danny fished out a stolen pack of cigarettes from his bed and handed one to Jason.

(It was a ritual they had where if one of them was upset about something but wasn't saying anything, the other one could then hand them a cigarette -- whether it be the one they were using or a new one -- and that would be an open invitation for the person to vent. The other one who handed him the cigarette wouldn't speak until the venter handed back the cigarette. Then back and forth it would go until the cigarette was gone.)

Jason ranted about how pissed he was about Danny moving, and they promised to try and stay in touch after he leaves. Neither of them had phones, but Danny was determined to send him a letters.

Danny moves to Amity Park and it's... an adjustment, that's for sure. He's angry, grumpy, upset, and every other negative feeling under the sun. He was going to a new middle school with new people he didn't know, away from all of the people he did know and away from his best friend.

(He does however keep his word about sending letters, and mails one out to Jason at the first opportunity.)

He refuses to get along with anyone, butts heads with the teachers, is combative, rude, and openly smokes in class -- which gets him plenty of detentions and a bad reputation. He speaks in a thick Gotham street accent and wears hand-me-down clothes that are too big and baggy on him. (His parents have yet to replace any of their wardrobes as they settle into their new life, and Danny is hesitant to spend the money to get new clothes.)

He only manages to befriend Sam and Tucker because one of the football kids was bullying Tucker and Danny stepped in. It was some blond jerk named Dash and when Dash threw the first punch, Danny broke his nose. Tucker found him later that day and reluctantly thanked him for his help.

Sam and Danny do not get along for the longest time. Sam questions Danny about his upbringing, his accent, his smoking. She judges him for talking back to the teachers despite doing it herself and for ruining his lungs with cigarettes. Danny tells her to fuck off, and when she tries to judge him and Tucker for not being vegetarian, he calls her a privileged brat.

Sam doesn't even look at him for two weeks after, and Danny refuses to apologize. Tucker is caught between a rock and a hard place as his old friend and new friend are feuding with each other.

They... sort it out eventually.

Danny and Jason send each other letters near religiously. Danny complains about Amity Park, and Jason complains about how Crime Alley isn't the same without him. Danny talks about the school and what he's learned, about Sam and Tucker, and how he's been getting into the astronomy books in the library. He steals Jason a book and sends it to him.

When Jason tells Danny that he was adopted by Bruce Wayne, Danny calls bullshit. There's no fucking way Bruce Wayne would even look at Crime Alley, regardless of his charity efforts towards it. But when he checks Gotham news later that week, he's hit in the face with every single news article announcing Bruce Wayne's newest ward; Jason Todd.

Cue freaking out. Jason talks all about living in Wayne Manor and what it's like there. He says that there's a monster library in a part of the house that Bruce says he has free reign over, and that Jason can have anything to eat as long as he asks Alfred to make it and it isn't a desert, and that he has his own monster-sized room that he got to pick out himself and decorate.

(When they both get phones, the first thing either of them do is add each other's numbers.)

When Sam complains about having to go to a Wayne Gala that her parents are dragging her to one weekend, the first thing Danny asks is if he can go with. It surprises Sam and Tucker; Danny was the last person they would have thought wanted to go with. HE hates the rich even more than Sam does. Danny stands firm in his decision, and refuses to elaborate.

"Besides." He says to Sam, with whom he's begun to get along with via 'the enemy of my enemy is a friend'. "Would you rather go alone or with someone you can tolerate?"

She brings him with and convinces her parents to allow Danny to come along, citing that she'll be on her best behavior if they do. They agree, and buy Danny a suit when he says that he doesn't have one of his own.

(He discovers that he hates wearing suit jackets and ties, but vests he doesn't mind. He doesn't like that he has to comb his hair back, but he does to make Sam's parents happy. They give him a crash course in etiquette that Danny's going to forget the next day, and soon enough off they go in a private jet to Gotham)

(he does not tell Jason he's coming.)

he feels mischievous and nervous as they touch down, his stomach swirling as Sam's parents usher them to a high-profile hotel that Danny's only ever dreamed about going into. He feels largely out of place as they walk through the lobby, and falls back on old habits: square shoulders, set jaw, make yourself look like the biggest person in the room.

They get ready in the hotel room, Sam's parents primp and preen for the night incoming, and Sam is dragged into it by her mother. Danny does only what's required of him, and fiddles with the sleeves of his fresh-ironed button-down that's been tailored to his body. He's itching for a cigarette, and didn't bring any with.

Sam's dad helps him with his tie, a bout of kindness that Danny doesn't think is one. Just obligation to prevent Danny from looking like a mess. Sam pesters him again about wanting to come, and his reasons for it, and Danny keeps mum.

He's stone-faced with anxiety as they get closer to the gala, and before they leave the limousine the Mansons rented Sam links arms with him. A form of solidarity that Danny needs as he squeezes their arms together and smiles weakly at her.

The paparazzi are loud, bright, and demanding, shouting questions over questions at them like overlapping tidal waves. Danny ignores them all and focuses on the front doors instead. Sam's parents whisper at the stairs that they are to greet the Waynes first, and Danny's heart leaps to his throat.

His heart is in his ears as they drift closer, Mister Wayne is preoccupied with another rich couple, smiling that charming billionaire smile that Danny saw on every billboard in Gotham, and then some in Amity Park. Getting so close to him feels unreal.

And there by his side is the one and only Jason Todd, who isn't even trying to hide the bored look on his face as he watches Bruce interact with the other adults. He's gotten taller in the year they've been away, and healthier. His hair looks like its been cut professionally and he doesn't look as street kid skinny.

Danny's arm, hooked with Sam's, tightens up, and he resists the urge to rush forward and hug Jason. He watches Jason's eyes sweep left, away from him, and then right, towards him. The air stills for a moment as their eyes lock.

Danny grins toothily at him, lopsided and playful in nature, and sees the moment Jason processes the sight before him. His arm starts slipping out of Sam's at the same time as an ecstatic smile stretches across Jason's face.

His lopsided grin fills out on the other end. "DANNY!" Jason yells, cutting off whatever Bruce Wayne and startling everyone within earshot. There's barely a moment for Bruce to look down when Jason shoves past him and runs at Danny.

Danny yanks his arm out of Sam's, "JASON!" He yells with just as much enthusiasm, and Jason nearly topples them right over when he collides with Danny. His arms wrap around Danny's shoulders, holding onto him tightly, and they're both laughing, spinning around like tops out of joy.

"You didn't tell me you were coming!" Jason cries, sounding accusing. Danny hugs him just as tightly, and laughs when Jason pulls away momentarily to punch his shoulder.

"I wanted it to be a surprise!" He defends, laughing between words as their spinning comes to a stop. They're both reluctant to pull apart, but they do and clutch the sleeves of their elbows tightly. "How could my best friend be adopted by the Bruce Wayne and have me not come confirm it with my own two eyes?"

"I sent you newspaper clippings!" Jason says, narrowing his eyes while his smile betrays his face. Danny quietly notices that his Gotham street accent is faded slightly.

"Oh that's what it was?" Danny's grin turns again, edging into a smirk. He feigns innocence, "I thought that was fire kindling." He has the newspaper clippings hung on the corkboard in his room, proud beyond words about his best friend.

Jason punches him in the shoulder again, hard enough to leave a bruise. "You jackass." He says, ignoring Danny's laughter even when he's holding back his own.

There's a soft, sharp clearing of someone's throat, breaking their attentions away from each other to the one that made the noise.

Bruce Wayne was a tall man, taller than Danny expected, and he looks exactly like his billboards. If less promiscuous than his perfume ads. Danny expects him to be upset with them both for disrupting his pretty rich gala, but instead he just looks gently amused, with an arched eyebrow. Overall though, he just looks fond.

Danny would be the first to admit that Bruce had taken in Jason as a charity case, something to fill the void after his other kid Dick Grayson finally moved out. But Danny’s a good judge of character — or he likes to assume he is — and those are not the eyes of a man who would take Jason in as a charity case. Those are the eyes of a man who actually, genuinely, cares about one Jason Todd.

The wriggly protective thing settles in his chest.

He doesn’t let go of Jason, but he does twist his smile into something a little more polite. Mister Wayne’s eyebrow arches higher, and he turns his blue-blue eyes onto Jason. “Who’s this, Jason?” He has that fancy Gotham Elite accent -- something that sounds like a mix between old transatlantic and faintly British -- that Danny's only heard in passing when he and Jason snuck up to the nicer parts of Gotham.

Jason stares at Mister Wayne, his grip on Danny tightens as his eyes flick to the other onlookers in the room. “This is Danny, B.” He says once his eyes turn back to Mister Wayne. “We grew up in Crime Alley together, he moved to Illinois last year."

Danny can see the uncomfortable expressions cross every rich person's face, murmurs sweeping across the room as soon their uncomfortable gazes turned judgmental and flinty. He's kept track of the tabloids after Jason's adoption, the ones calling him a charity case and looking down on him for being a street kid.

He inches a little closer to Jason, straightening up instinctively, as if they were back in Crime Alley and facing a pack of kids that didn't like them. He can see Sam's surprised expression from the corner of his eye -- he never told Tucker or Sam about where he grew up, although he's sure they had their suspicions.

He looks back to Mister Wayne and meets his blue-blue eyes, his smile has slowly begun to fade. Mister Wayne doesn't miss a beat however, and his smile stays plastered to his face. If anything, it gets a little softer, a little wider. "It's nice to meet you Danny -- Daniel? I'm so glad that Jason has a friend here." He holds out a hand.

Danny eyes him unsurely, and then takes his hand. "It's jus' Danny, Mister Wayne." He says, some of his old accent slipping through as he shook his hand firmly. He would have done it harder, but this was Jason's new guardian, and from Jason's letters he didn't sound too bad. "It's, uh, nice to meet you too. Jason's told me lots about you."

Mister Wayne's brows jump momentarily, he looks intrigued. He looks between Danny and Jason, and claps his hands together softly. "Well, Jay, how would you like to stay with Danny for a while, hm? I'm sure you too have a lot to catch up on."

Hope simmers in Danny's heart, and he glances to Jason to see that same hope on his face. "Really?" He asks, and Mister Wayne nods with a laugh.

"Of course! How could I keep two friends apart? Go on ahead, chum. I'll come get you when the gala ends."

And just like that, Bruce Wayne leaves Jason with Danny, diving back into a conversation with one of the rich gothamites and taking the attention with it as if he were the sun and everyone else a planet orbiting him.

Danny and Jason share grins, and throw their arms around each other with laughter. Danny is on cloud nine, pressing his nose into Jason's shoulder and breathing him in, fingers digging into the back of his suit hard enough to leave wrinkles in his jacket.

Sam demands answers when they finally, for real this time, pull apart. Why didn't he tell her that he was friends with Jason Todd!? Danny slings his arm around Jason's shoulders and keeps him close, and tells her that it was because he wanted it to be a surprise.

Sam's parents have unreadable expressions on their faces, part greed -- Danny is their in to the elusive Bruce Wayne -- and part disdain -- a Gotham street rat. Danny ignores them, they're unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

He introduces Sam to Jason, and Jason to Sam. And off they go to a corner of the room near the buffet table where they can eat and shit talk everyone else in the room in peace.

At some point in the night Sam is called back to her parents to meet some other fancy rich kids her parents want her to get along with, and Danny and Jason go off to the west end balcony to avoid anyone who may try and approach the new Gotham ward.

Danny hops up onto the balcony railing, kicking his feet as Jason pulls a cigarette pack out of his inner jacket pocket, and grins. "Don't tell Bruce," he says, handing the box to Danny first. "He's been trying to get me to quit."

"Hah!" Danny takes one just as Jason slips out a lighter. "That sounds like Jazz. She's been trying to get me to stop since we moved to Amity." Granted, she's been trying ever since she found out before they moved, but now she was even more insistent. "She hasn't found my stash yet."

At the end of the night when the Mansons are leaving and Danny has to leave with them, he walks back to Mister Wayne with Jason to tell him that he's leaving. Mister Wayne mourns his going, and tells him that he's always able to come visit.

"Any friend of Jason's is always welcome to the manor." He says with a blinding grin, pulling Jason close to his side and squeezing him tight. Jason's nose scrunches up, but he doesn't push away.

It becomes a new routine for them. The Mansons are all too happy to bring him with to the Wayne Galas (of which they start receiving more invites to due to their connection with Danny) and Danny is all too happy to spend the evening with Jason again. No matter what, they always end up on the balcony at some point in the night.

And, eventually, Danny is invited to stay at Wayne Manor either for a weekend or for a break. He jumps at the chance when winter break rolls around and his parents start their debate over Santa Claus again.

Danny and Jason stay up late into the night talking or playing video games during their sleepovers, and in the warmer nights they climb out and onto the roof to stargaze. Danny points out constellations - - things he can find in neither Gotham or Amity -- and rambles on and on about space.

There are plenty of times during the Wayne Galas that the event gets attacked by a rogue. More often than he'd like he loses Jason in the crowd, and has later stopped Robin or Batman in his panic to find him.

The first time it happened, he was in tears with terror. He grabbed onto Batman's cape, stopping the man from going back in as he babbled that his Jason Todd was still inside, that he disappeared during the chaos and he couldn't find him. Batman took his hands and calmly told him that he'd find Jason for him, and that he was sure he was okay, but he needed to calm down.

He found Jason later once everything had calmed down, and he screamed at him for disappearing during a rogue attack, if he ever did it again he'll kill him. Then he cried.

The second time it happened, Danny didn't even realize that Jason was gone until everything was already over. They'd been separated before the attack happened. He stopped Robin and Batman before they could leave, trying to keep his breathing under control as he asked again, if they had seen Jason Todd.

"That- that asshole keeps fucking ditching me when these things happen." His voice has an embarrassing wobble in it. "Please-- please tell me you've seen him, that he's alright."

Robin this time steps up to reassure him, that Jason Todd was out of the building. He got him out. "He's probably looking for you too, uhhh..."

"Danny" Danny says, and eyes him up and down. "You're the new Robin right?"

Robin stilled up, and Danny could understand it a little. He'd seen the thoughts on the new Robin online. He wasn't very popular at first. Robin nods curtly, and Batman was shuffled a little closer to him, almost protectively.

Danny grins at him. "Cool." He says, "Me and Jay used to sneak out onto the rooftops sometimes to try and spot Batman and the first Robin, we made it a game." He holds out a fistbump, "Thanks for doing what you do, man. I might not live in Gotham anymore, but I mean it. You're a living legend."

Robin looks like there's something stuck in his throat, and after a beat he returns the fistbump tentatively. "Th- uh, thanks." He stumbles out awkwardly, and then turns away, "Me and B- uh, better go."

Before Danny could even respond, Robin already had his grapple in hand and was grappling away. "You too, Batman." Danny says before Batman can follow.

When Danny sees Jason after that, and weight lifts off his chest and he hits him in the arm again. And then complains that he should have gotten Batman and Robin's autograph, it would have been epic.

By the fifth time it happens, Danny is cussing up a storm when Robin saves him, cursing out Jason and claiming that he needs to put that boy on a fucking leash. "We're a duo!" He scowls when Robin gets him outside, "I got his back, he has mine! I can't have his back when he's got no back to fucking have."

The eighth time it happens, Danny gets held hostage by one of the henchmen. He's become a recognizable friend of the Waynes, and when the Waynes are nowhere to be found, then the next best thing was up to offer. Danny isn't even mad this time around -- just relieved that Jason was fucking off somewhere where he couldn't get hurt.

Robin, however, seemed furious when he arrived, and broke the hostager's jaw with a single flying kick to the face. Jason found him rapidly quick soon after the situation had settled, and apologized over and over again.

Danny slings an arm around his shoulder and laughs that it was fine, Robin saved the day! His legs were shaking with the worn off adrenaline, something he tried to hide from Jason. "I'm just glad it was me instead of you, Jay." He grins. Jason looks like he swallowed a toad.

Jason stops disappearing as often after that, sticking close to Danny's side until the attack was over.

When Danny is fourteen, Jason dies, and his world unravels.

He calls the manor on a late night in April after Jason had stopped responding to his texts. Danny knew that Jason was just recently in a fight with Bruce, but he knows that Bruce loves Jason. He would know where he is, right?

When he calls, Bruce answers with a hoarse "hello?" as if he'd been crying all day, and Danny's blood turns to ice. The anxiety he'd been feeling beforehand doubles in size, and he feels himself stammering.

"Mister- uh- Mister Wayne? Um, I'm calling because Jason--" he hears Bruce inhale sharply on the other line, and his anxiety skyrockets into fear. "--hasn't been answering any of my texts and- and I'm gettin' real worried."

There's silence on the other end, and Danny feels a rock forming in his throat, gross and heavy like he was on the verge of throwing up. "Mister- Bruce? Mister B?"

There's a shaky breath, and then Bruce's voice crackles through the phone. "Um-- Jason, he, he's--" there's a sound like rustling, "he's been killed."

Danny's vision whites out with skyrocketing terror, his mind skidding to a stop. His body rapidly grows hot, and then chills, like a blacksmith striking a heated weapon. "What?"

When the phone call ends, Danny screams himself hoarse. Jazz and his parents come running into his room, his parents equipped with ghost weapons. Instead, they find Danny curled up in his bed, sobbing hoarsely.

Danny almost -- almost -- refuses to attend the funeral, nearly paralyzed with grief. Jazz coaxes him to go, to find closure if anything else, and he drags himself out of bed to go.

He feels numb the entire time. It's closed casket, so he can't even see him for one last time before Jason is buried in the ground. He's silent, and if he think he looks bad, then Bruce looks even worse, like he hadn't slept since Jason died and worse.

Danny grabs his sleeve before he leaves, and when Bruce turns to him with a dull look in his once vibrant eyes, he clings to him tightly. And cries. Bruce clings back just as tight, Danny feels tears drip into his hair.

"Who did it." Danny whispers, voice too hurt to speak any louder, when he pulls back. His fingers curl around Bruce's jacket tightly, desperately. His eyes hurt with tears. "You said he was murdered, B. Please, who did it."

Bruce looks down at him, and for the first time it really does feel like he's looking down at him. His face is blank, and his eyes close in grief. There is no answer, a silent no.

Danny's face twists up all ugly like, and he shakes Bruce's jacket. "Bruce, please. Tell me who did it."

Bruce refuses, his face full of grief.

Danny never returns to Gotham.

Prior to Jason's death and post their reunion, Danny had slowly begun to improve in school. He started caring more, he was putting in more effort, he was doing his homework and was actually enjoying class. There was the bullying from Dash and the A-Listers, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle, he was ignoring them for the most part.

Come Monday after the funeral, and Danny breaks Dash's nose when he starts up with his shit. He withdrew into himself, and it was like he was back to square one again, except this time it was much worse.

Everyone knew Danny was close friends with Jason Todd. So when news of his death finally reached the ears of Amity Park, the students of Casper High School kept their distance.

That following Friday, Danny dies in the portal and comes back. A month later he becomes Phantom, the ghost-fighting ghost. the ghost Phantom wears his hazmat suit partially undone, showing a tanktop he didn't wear in death under the initial suit while the sleeves are tied around his waist. Vicious, glowing lichtenburg scars travel up his arm and neck and torso, covering half of his face while a pair of scientist-like goggles covers his eyes. He's bitter and angry, showing off his death.

Look at me, Phantom's form says, I am a dead child. Look at me look at me look at me. Mourn me. I am a dead child. LOOK AT ME. MOURN ME.

A few weeks later he enters the ghost zone and realizes that he could find Jason. And he spends a weekend scouring the ghost zone for him. He finds Gotham in the zone, and rather than finding Jason, he finds Robin.

Danny didn't know he'd died. And he flies towards him, asks him if he's seen Jason, reveals that it's him, Danny Fenton. Robin stares at him, mouth agape, and peels off his mask to reveal Jason Todd.

They both cry, and when Danny tells him how he died, Jason looks pale in the face. "You didn't- you didn't kill yourself because of me, did you?"

Danny fervently denies it. No, no. He didn't, he didn't. It was an accident. Totally unrelated. But enough about that, what the hell happened? Bruce wouldn't tell him anything at the funeral.

Jason clams up, his ghostly face losing its color, and Danny curses himself. He tells Jason that he doesn't have to tell him, he doesn't have to say anything. They sit in silence.

"It was the Joker." Jason says.

That's all Danny needs to know. He nods quietly. 'I'll kill him.' He thinks to himself, a stubborn set in his jaw. "Okay."

It had always been a plan; a thought wriggling in the back of Danny's mind ever since Bruce told him that Jason had been killed.

Not died. Killed.

Danny wanted the fucker dead the moment he realized it. He just needed to know who did it. He thinks Bruce knew it too, could probably see it in his eyes the moment Danny asked him who did it. He isn't sure if he should hate Bruce more for keeping it from him now.

They spend hours together, just soaking in each other's presence. Danny tries to take him through the ghost portal, to bring him back to the land of the living. But much like Kitty, Jason's form is tied to the zone. Danny promises to visit every day.

And he does. Or he tries to. The grief doesn't go away, but with the comfort of knowing that Jason was on the other side, Danny feels a little better. He tells Jason about being Phantom, and Jason helps train him. It feels like they're kids again and are fighting just because they want to. Its a bout of familiarity in a place that feels unfamiliar. All they need are cigarettes.

And then six months later he loses him again. Danny scours the ghost zone for him for the second time, and this time he doesn't find him.

His haunt is still in the zone though. He didn't move on. He's still here, somewhere.

Danny is convinced that Jason was in the Elsewhereness, and looks for him in between ghost fights and his social life. He visits Jason's haunt every day, knowing that Jason should be able to feel when another ghost enters his home. He does not show up.

(He never thinks that Jason came back to life, and Jason doesn't remember his time in the ghost zone)

When Danny is nineteen, Vlad Masters blackmails him into going to another Wayne Gala. Begrudgingly, Danny goes. He's taller than he used to be, having inherited his dad's monstrous height and his mom's leanness. He has piercings, some of them he got after a lost bet from Sam and Tucker, and he's given himself an undercut.

He still prefers vests over suit jackets, and he still smokes. A little less than before, he sneaks a pack into his pocket before he leaves, along with a lighter. Vlad gives him a dirty look the whole time - he knows.

"Don't give me that look." "That stuff kills, you know" "I'm already dead."

It's like deja vu when he arrives; an awful bout of deja vu, that is. The paparazzi is still as bright and loud and annoying as it always was, and they don't recognize him at all. Something he thinks of as a soft mercy up until one of the reporters asks Vlad who he is.

Vlad smiles and tugs Danny into the camera frame, "Why, this is my godson!" He crows, and shoots Danny a look that is downright smug I'm sure many of you may know him as Daniel Fenton?"

If looks could kill, Vlad would be ash. Danny isn't quite sure why he still agreed to this -- blackmail or no. He felt itchy being in Gotham; jumpy. He's never forgotten his vow to kill the Joker, in fact it was something he still desperately wants.

But the threat of Rath, the name he chose for his evil future self, haunts him just as much as his murderous intent. If he kills the Joker, would he stop?

Danny's almost afraid of what he'll do if he ever lays eyes on the Joker in person. He doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from wrapping his hands around that stupid clown's neck and watching the light leave his eyes.

He pushes the thoughts to the side, and smiles lopsidedly as cameras and microphones flood his face, reporters yelling over themselves as they clamor to get a shot of the old Wayne family friend.

Danny turns and walks inside without answering a single question, flexing his fingers in and out of fists. Vlad gracefully hurries after him, and Danny can hear his glare burning into his back.

"You told me to come," Danny hisses to him once he's beside him, meeting Vlad's gaze piercingly, "not that I should play nice."

"Don't embarrass me, Daniel." Vlad hisses back, trying to look the upmost calm as eyes turn onto them. "I'll make you regret it."

"You embarrass yourself, fruitloop." Danny shoots back, walking away before Vlad could get a retort in. He sees Bruce Wayne on the other side of the room.

His heart seizes with nostalgia. He hasn't seen Bruce since Jason's funeral, hasn't spoken to him either. He doesn't know how to feel about him, but he'd been keeping tabs on Bruce both as himself and as Batman.

Danny's feet carry him forwards before he can think about it, silently weaving between the throng of rich people vying for his attention. It's only when he gets closer does he see the little shadow clinging to his side: Damian Wayne.

The newest little bird, Danny realizes, and stifles a smile at the surly expression on Damian's face as two older women coo over him. He reminded him of Sam, who had long since stopped coming to these things the moment she was able to.

The feeling of eyes on him turns Danny's attention away from Damian, and instead finds them back on Bruce's, who stares at him with a little furrow between his brows. As if he recognized him, but he wasn't sure from there.

Danny grins crookedly the moment he's within earshot. "Mister B!" He exclaims, slipping into what remained of his Gotham street accent. Recognition flashed in Bruce's eyes, and the man smiled widely. "Long time no see, old man."

"Danny," Bruce says, his name breathing out like relief. He slips between the crowd surrounding him -- who are now watching Danny -- and pulls Danny into a close hug. "It's good to see you again."

Danny hesitates for a moment -- he wasn't expecting Bruce to hug him -- and returns the gesture. "It's good to see you too, Bruce." He admits. Bruce was still using the same cologne that he did when Danny was a kid. He blinks heavily.

He pulls away quickly, clapping Bruce lightly on the shoulder as Damian quickly latches onto his father's side again. Damian glares daggers at him, fingers digging into Bruce's pantlegs like a possessive little kid.

He made Danny's ghost sense tingle in the back of his throat, creeping up slowly like a spider before stopping suddenly before it reached his mouth. It hummed, and then disappeared.

Danny smothered a frown. Since when did Batman work with ectoplasm? “This must be Damian." He says to Bruce, and holds out a hand to Damian -- he doesn't crouch, he had a feeling that Damian would be less than appreciative if he did that. "You've really expanded the nest since the last time I saw you."

Damian's eyes narrow at him. Bruce laughs lightly, "Ah yes, Tim is around here somewhere. I'm sure you'll see him soon."

"Father," Damian says, his voice layered with an accent. He glares up at Danny with piercing green eyes. "How do you know this man?" He sounds distrustful, Danny respects that and drops his hand.

"This is Danny Fenton." Bruce says, and Danny lets him introduce him. "He was Jason's friend."

An expression similar to bewilderment flashes briefly over Damian's face, and he eyes Danny in disbelief. "Todd had friends?"

Oh. So that's how he wanted to be. Bruce had a little elitist on his hands. Danny's smile drops like a deadweight, and any lingering endearment he had hardens like ice in his chest, fury slowly taking its place like a flickering candlelight. "It's not polite to speak ill of the dead, Mister Wayne." He says coldly, his voice made of chips of ice.

Damian blinks, the disbelief disappearing from his face. The closest thing to a recoil Danny thinks he's going to get. He doesn't care. No one speaks about his best friend that way.

"I grew up with Jason, actually." He continues, breathing in slow and deep, trying to keep the ghostly possessive-protective-rage under control. "I was his best friend."

He turns, almost robotically, towards Bruce, and tries not to look so angry. "I'm going to go find Tim, Mister B." He says, and tries to offer up a weak smile for the man. It comes out as a grimace instead.

"And..." he pauses, flicks his eyes towards Damian, and then looks at Bruce. "I'll... try and keep in contact, B. Tell Dick I said hi, alright? I'll see you in a little bit."

Bruce nods, looking vaguely disappointed and sighing slow through his nose. Danny walks away as Bruce turns to address his youngest, and doesn't bother listening in on what he has to say.

He does, eventually, find Tim Drake. He spots him in a crowd instantly - it's hard not to, and he makes his way over to him. He's not sure Tim Drake would recognize him, Bruce didn't at first and Danny had been around him constantly.

Except Tim Drake does recognize him, much to Danny's surprise. They lock eyes and Tim immediately makes his way over to him. "Danny Fenton!" He says and stops in front of him, "What a surprise, we weren't expecting you tonight."

"Tim Drake," Danny replies, smiling a little as his earlier hurt begins to fade away. "I'm surprised you know me."

"There are pictures of you in the manor with Jason." Tim explains, stuffing his hands into his pockets with an easy-going smile. "It's hard not to know you."

"It’s hard not to know you too,” Danny retorts, a sly smile slowly spreading across his face. “Although you’re a lot taller than you used to be, when you were lurking around Bruce and Jason and I.”

Ohhh Danny recognizes him alright. One part due to all the news articles and tabloids on him after he was adopted by Bruce, and the other part because he remembers the little shadow lurking near plants pots and table legs that used to follow him and Jason around at galas just like these.

Knowing that Jason was Robin, he wonders if Jason knew he was there too.

The effect is immediate: Tim’s eyes grow comically large, and a red tint glows at the tip of his ears as he shrinks back like a turtle trying to hide into its shell. “You— you noticed that!?” He hisses.

“I did!” Danny grins, large and wide, stifling a laugh as the red tint spreads over Tim’s cheeks and nose. He looks mortified. Danny coos. “Aww, I thought it was adorable that Jason had a little shadow. I’m sure he would have loved you if you had just come over and said hi. He had a big soft spot for kids.”

Tim snorts and it— it almost sounds derisive? “Sure he would.” He looks sad, and the mirth in Danny’s chest shrivels up like a flower without light. The smile fades from his face, and all that’s left is a strange, staunch reminder that Danny and Bruce weren’t the only ones that probably mourned.

He touches Tim’s shoulder lightly, “Hey, I’m sorry.” He says, trying to look as apologetic as he feels. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m sorry, I miss him too.” Like a fucking limb he missed him.

There’s something that flickers in Tim’s eyes, passing through too fast for Danny to realize what it is. He assumes its gratefulness, because Tim relaxes a little and offers him a weak little smile. “I wish I had talked to him.”

Danny sees an out and takes it, he forces out a short laugh, grinning widely. “I can tell you all about him if you’d like,” he offers, “I told Mister B I’d keep in touch anyways. I’ve missed him and Alfred quite a lot in the last few years.”

“Not Dick?”

“That dipstick wasn’t around often enough for me to form any sort of emotional attachment to him.” Danny says in a half-complaining tone, placing his hands on his hips. “Although I did like his puns.”

Tim snickers, “I’ll tell him you said that then. Nobody likes his puns.”

“Go on ahead,” Danny grins, laughter swirling in his chest and making his core thrum with warmth. Damn, he’s missed this family. “I stand by my decision. Puns are funny.”

“Let’s get a photo then.” Tim says with a hand already fishing in his pocket for his phone. “He’ll be devastated to know that you were here and he didn’t get to see you.”

“Sure.” And Danny sidles on next to Tim, throwing an arm around his shoulders — and making a noise of surprise when his arm was able to fit comfortably — as if he was just resting it on a counter.

He totally forgot how tall he was compared to Tim. Forgot that he’d been looking down the entire time they’d been talking. “Why’d I get my dad’s height.” He complains, and bends his knees as Tim raises the phone with the front-facing camera on.

Tim snickers under his breath, and takes the picture while they’re both smiling wide. Danny immediately stands up, and peers over Tim’s shoulders to look at the picture.

It’s a good one, with the fringe of Danny’s curls falling slightly over his left eye and making the dimple on his right cheek more prominent. He could see the barely-there smattering of freckles he had across his nose, the ones that became more prominent when the sun was out. His smile was lopsided, Danny’s favorite kind of smile.

He whistles lowly, “That’s a good one,” he says aloud, and smiles impishly at Tim when he looks at him. “You should send that one, I look hot in it.”

Tim snorts, his ears reddening as he looks down at his phone. “Yeah sure, no problem.” He says quickly, and Danny looks away when he pulls up the messenger app. He’s never felt comfortable looking over people’s shoulders when they were on their phone.

“I’m gonna go take a smoke break.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and curls his fingers around the box and lighter inside. “I’ll—“

“Be on the west-end balcony.” Tim finishes, the red in his ears darkening as he glances up from his phone to smile embarrassedly. “I know.”

Danny snorts, “Okay.” His voice is thick with amusement. “Let me know how Dipstick reacts, alright?” He backs up slowly, awaiting Tim’s response. Tim merely waves a hand at him, a weak gesture of “yeah yeah” that makes Danny grin before he flips around and marches towards his favorite smoking balcony.

———————

(Tim pulls up the family group chat and loads the selfie into the text bar. His face feels warm with embarrassment even as his thumbs fly across the screen.

Tim: look who i found at the latest charity gala :) [image]

Hee awaits eagerly a response, and finds he doesn’t have to wait long. Dick’s thought bubble appears on screen, then Cass’s — of which it only exists for a moment before disappearing.

Dick: holy shit, is that who i think it is?

Tim responds quickly, and his message sends.

Tim: yep. He wanted me to tell you that he thinks your jokes are funny.

Dick: they are funny

Tim rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment, really thinks. He weighs his pros and cons. And then his fingers fly across the screen again.

Tim: hey Jason are you not gonna say anything?

There’s no response for all of thirty seconds — of which it stretches on to an uncomfortably long minute — and then Jason’s thought bubble appears.

Jason: what do i have to say to a bunch of idiots blowing up my phone in the middle of patrol?

Tim: harsh. do you recognize the guy in the photo?

Jason’s response is instant. Too fast for him to have actually looked at the photo itself. He’s just trying to spite Tim then. Tim doesn’t care, he has the upper hand here

Jason: no and I don’t care, i have patrol

Tim knows he didn’t look at the photo, and yet he can’t help stifle a shit-eating smile and feign innocence

Tim: really? You and Danny used to be so close, color me surprised

His teeth dig into his lower lip, he doesn’t need to in order to hide a smile. But it gives him something to do. Jason is worryingly silent for a long, long time, and Tim can almost imagine him staring long and hard at the selfie. Tim knows he will be later.

Finally, Jason’s text bubble shows up. It exists for a long time, before finally Tim’s phone buzzes with his message alert.

Jason: that’s danny?

Tim feels all too gleeful. Smugness swirling in his chest like kicked up sand as he types his response: yep! Apparently he showed up today, although I’m not sure with who since I don’t see Miss Manson around here.

Damian: Father says to get off your phone, Drake. We are at a Gala and your behavior is most unbecoming

Tim: can it demon spawn, I was just telling Jason that his friend Danny is here

Damian: He can’t be too important if he doesn’t even know Todd is alive

Tim: how would you know that?

Damian: When Father introduced him as Todd’s friend, I expressed my surprise that Todd even had friends, considering how unpleasant he can be. Fenton became quite cross with me after that and quickly excused himself thereafter

Dick: you said what!? Damian that’s not okay

Damian: Father made that quite clear after Fenton left in a huff. My mistake for thinking that Todd had told his ‘supposed best friend’ that he was alive.

Dick: he didn’t even tell us we were alive at first

Damian: He did eventually, didn’t he? Clearly Todd doesn’t seem to care too much about Fenton if he hasn’t even informed him of his being alive at this point.

Jason’s thought bubble quickly pops up, and then dissipates, then pops up again. Tim quickly pockets his phone before he can see Jason’s response. He doesn’t feel smug anymore, just uncomfortable.)

———————

Stepping out onto the west-end balcony feels like a blast from the past. A painful one at that. Danny’s fingers dig into his cigarette pack, and he pulls it out with a sense of bittersweet familiarity.

It feels like a lifetime ago that he once stood here with Jason. The package clunks dully as his fingers scrape against the side, and he fishes a cigarette out of the box before stuffing it back into his pocket.

“Quite the night isn’t it.” He says to nothing, to ghosts of the past, to himself. He turns and sits on the railing, sticking his legs out like a tripping hazard while Gotham’s hot city wind blows through the air.

He looks up and only sees the ugly pollution yellow sky looking down at him. It’s an unfamiliar feeling to him. He loves the stars and yet when faced with a smog that covers it, he feels more at home.

Danny’s fingers find the lighter, and with a few clicks a small open flame appears in existence. There’s a poem here, he can feel it. But he feels too tired to find it.

The cigarette lights, and the lighter dies in response. Returning back to his coffin-like pocket until he needs to use it again. He pulls a leg up, resting his chin on his knee with a heavy, tired sigh.

He soaks in the sounds around him. The ugly city warmth nips at his jaw. The music inside is muffled by the force of two glass doors and walls on all four sides, and Danny can hear late night traffic coming by on the road nearby. It’s a special kind of ambience you can only find on the west end balcony.

Half a decade ago, Danny had played a part with that ambience with Jason. Now it was just him, and Jason was nowhere to be found. It left a hopeless kind of feeling in his chest. An all-suffocating kind of fear that filled him head to toe with an intensity only ghosts could have.

His body winds up like a spring, and Danny holds his breath. When he exhales two minutes later, the spring stutters and jolts, and his body relaxes with a tremble.

He misses Jason. He misses Jason.

Ghosts are emotional creatures. They feel it from their crown to their soles. And emotional wounds never really heal. They scab over and fester, waiting to be picked at again and again so it can bleed as fresh as it did when it first opened.

Danny’s grief is never going to go away, he thinks. It’s clung to him like a parasite; shaped him and molded him. The wound was too close to him when he died, and now it will stay with him forever.

He opens his eyes when his ghost sense tingles, a heavy feeling in his throat that is neither nicotine nor grief. It’s just like Damian’s, but stronger. Potent. Older. It reaches the top of Danny’s throat and sits at the base of his tongue, like a hand about to suffocate him.

He looks up, cigarette hanging off his lips, and the Red Hood drops down beside him. He stands in the same spot Jason once did, and that alone makes the ghostly core in Danny seize possessively.

Don’t you dare stand where he stood, it hisses, coiling around his lungs like smog. Danny grits his teeth and feels his ghost sense evaporate. He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, and nicotine smoke pours out like a cheap version of his ghost sense.

“Red Hood.” He says plainly, his free hand coiling and uncoiling like cat’s claws against the railing. “A surprise to see you here.”

Danny knows through process of elimination who most of the Gotham vigilantes are: Dick is Nightwing, Bruce is Batman, Tim is Red Robin, Damian is Robin, and Cass is Orphan. There are a few who he doesn’t know, however. Like Batgirl and Red Hood.

It’s fine, he doesn’t need to know. Danny of all people understands the importance of a secret identity.

Red Hood doesn’t say anything, just stares at him as if he’s a deer in headlights. His body all tensed up like he isn’t sure what to do now that he’s here in front of Danny. Like he wasn’t expecting Danny to be here at all.

Danny’s brows furrow. “Sorry, am I in your spot?” He asks, and begins to push off the railing. “I didn’t think vigilantes used the Wayne Hall west-end balcony, I can leave if you want.”

He’s already begun to move towards the door.

The Red Hood lurches in his spot, “No!” He yells, and Danny stops in place with raising eyebrows. Red Hood’s fingers cringe, and he straightens up.

He’s shorter than Danny, he notes. Which isn’t much of revelation. Everyone is shorter than Danny.

“No,” Red Hood repeats, sounding sturdier than before, “No. You’re fine. I’m just stopping here for a quick rest before resuming patrol.”

…Danny doesn’t question it. It’s none of his business about other vigilantes and their practices. He shrugs and breathes out more smoke, “Alright.” He says, and walks back over to the railing to sit on it. “I’m Danny, by the way.”

The Red Hood nods, and a silence falls over them. Danny doesn’t care enough to make it feel uncomfortable, but the Red Hood seems unsettled by something. Lost in thought. He leans his back against the railing similar to Danny, and then switches a few seconds later to a new pose.

He does it again, and again, and again. Until finally he flips over and leans his stomach against the railing, arms resting against it. It is starkly like what Jason used to do, and Danny stares at him long and hard.

He frowns. And says nothing.

When Danny’s cigarette is nothing more than a butt of nicotine, he crushes it in his hand and watches the ash flutter down to the ground. The heat stings his hand, but its nothing his ghostly healing can’t fix.

The Red Hood is already holding out another one when Danny’s hand drifts to his pocket for the box.

Danny stares at him, sudden wariness opening up like floodgates that sit at the bottom of his stomach.

His frown deepens, his eyes flicker up and down at Red Hood. His hands hover over his pocket. “I have my own.” He says, and watches subtly as the Red Hood hides a wilt. As if he’d been expecting Danny to take it.

“Alright.” The Red Hood says, trying to sound unbothered. He retracts the cigarette away from Danny, quiet all the way. He’s looking away.

Danny plucks the cigarette out of his hand, startling the Hood enough that Red snaps back to look at him. Danny yanks his lighter from his pocket. “I won’t say no to a free cigarette.” He says, slightly muffled with the stick between his teeth. It lights.

Silence falls over them again, and when one minute stretches into five, whatever hope that had been digging into the shoulders of Red Hood finally pulls away and leaves him slumping subtly.

‘A ciggie for your thoughts?’ Nine year old Jason Todd whispers one night with an impish grin, holding up a cigarette pinched between his two fingers. ‘I stole it from my old man. He won’t even notice its gone.’

Danny is halfway through it when he speaks. “The Joker killed my best friend.” He says, and watches from the corner of his eye as the Red Hood flinches. Is he startled by Danny speaking, or startled by the bluntness of him starting?

“He beat him to death.” Danny continues, staring stone-faced away from Red Hood. His grief claws up his lungs and burrows into his heart again. His fingers dig into the railing. “He beat my best friend to death.”

The Red Hood is silent, his body as still as the grave. Silence stretches out between them both, and like he’d been thinking, the Hood finally speaks: “How do you know?”

He’s not holding the cigarette, he broke his and Jason’s rule. Danny bounces the stick between his fingers. “His ghost told me.” He says, taking a trembling breath. “His ghost told me so, before he disappeared.”

The Red Hood says nothing, and Danny gathers his thoughts. The ones that had been buried deep next to his core, shoved down ever since Danny learned of Rath and a terrible future where a world is destroyed by one ghost’s hands.

Danny has never said it out loud before. His face scrunches up briefly, and then smooths out when his eyes squeeze shut. “I’m going to kill him, Red Hood.” He murmurs when he opens his eyes, turning his face toward the vigilante. The sound is sucked out of the air.

The Red Hood stares at him, but he doesn’t say a word. Danny pushes on, teeth grinding into teeth as he flips his silvery scarred hand back and forth. Palm up, palm down. “It’s why I haven’t been back to Gotham in a while.” He admits, voice still quiet. “If I see the Joker I will kill him, and I won’t feel bad for it.”

“Not today though,” he says, and closes his hand, “today I’m here on a favor to Vlad Masters. Then after this I’ll go visit my friend. I need to apologize for not seeing his grave in a while. I’ll have to stop by a florist to see if they have any zinnias. Jay likes those.”

He takes out the cigarette in his mouth and breathes out one last cloud of smoke. And then he crushes the cigarette stick under his foot and walks back inside.

#vix’s add on #vix’s writing #dpxdc #i wrote this instead of sleeping #litteraly 2 am

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puckstories · 2 days ago

Text

Sweet Girl | Quinn Hughes

Pairing; Dad!Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); None I believe. Fluff, established relationship, pregnancy + birth (ish), only edited once

Summary; The three times Quinn spoke to your belly + the one time he spoke to your baby

Word Count; 5.5k

Author’s note; I love this fic so much, I might make it a universe since I'm a sucker for girl dads + I'm not ready to give baby Scar and Quinn up (: As usual, any thoughts + reblogs are appreciated. Thank you for all of the support! -Honey

When you heard a knock on the door, and opened it to find a package from Amazon sitting on your doorstep, your first thought was that it must be for Quinn. It wasn’t unusual for him to order things online, especially when he was on the road and needed something shipped to the house. And though you often used his Prime account to order things for yourself too, this time you were sure you hadn’t ordered anything recently. You bent down to pick it up, the familiar brown box light in your hands as you brought it inside.

Glancing at the label, you furrowed your brow slightly. It had your name on it, but nothing about it gave you any clue what was inside. Shrugging it off, you left the package on the nightstand by Quinn's side of the bed, figuring it was something he'd ordered for himself, maybe some last-minute necessity he’d remembered while traveling.

The hours passed, and with the Canucks playing in Minnesota on another road game stint, you didn’t give much thought to the package sitting by the bed. It wasn’t until later that night, after the game, that you got a FaceTime call from Quinn. The familiar ping of your phone lit up the screen, and you smiled as his name appeared. You answered quickly, eager to see his face after missing him more than you'd care to admit.

“Hey,” you greeted, smiling softly when his face appeared on your screen. His hair was still damp from his postgame shower, strands falling messily over his forehead, and the sight of him looking relaxed in his hotel room after a win sent a warm feeling through your chest.

“Hey, baby,” Quinn replied, his voice soft, but with a touch of fatigue. You could tell he was still riding the post-game high, but the exhaustion of the season was starting to creep in.

You both spent a few minutes catching up—him telling you about the game, the energy in the arena, and you sharing small details about your day, filling in the little gaps left by his absence. The conversation flowed easily, like it always did, but then, as the conversation lulled, Quinn’s brow furrowed slightly, like he’d remembered something.

“Did you get the package?” he asked suddenly, his voice casual but with a hint of elation as he adjusted the phone, leaning back against the headboard of his hotel bed.

You blinked in surprise, momentarily confused. "Package?" you echoed, your mind flipping back to the brown box you’d left on the nightstand. "Oh, yeah! That came this morning. I wasn’t sure what it was, so I just left it on your side of the bed."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Quinn’s lips, but he shook his head, his eyes softening as he looked at you through the screen. "It’s not for me," he said, his voice a little lower, with that familiar warmth that always made your heart flutter. “It’s for you, for us. I ordered it.”

Surprise flickered across your face, and you shifted in your seat, suddenly curious. "Really?" Your heart gave a little skip. Quinn wasn’t one to make a big deal out of surprises, but when he did, they were always thoughtful, something that showed how much attention he paid to the little details of your life.

He nodded, a small grin pulling at his lips as he watched your reaction. "Yeah. Go open it," he urged, his voice playful now, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

A flutter of excitement bubbled up inside you as you stood up from the couch and padded into the bedroom, phone in hand, feeling suddenly giddy. You picked up the box from the nightstand, shaking it lightly, though it didn’t give away much about what was inside. Setting your phone down on the bed so Quinn could still see you, you grabbed the nearest pair of scissors and sat down on the plush comforter, carefully slicing through the tape, your curiosity growing with every second.

"Any hints?" you asked as you opened the flaps of the box, glancing up at the screen to see him smiling.

"Not a chance," he replied, his voice filled with that playful mischief that always made your heart skip. "You’ll see in a second."

Inside the package, nestled among the packing paper, is a small green-and-white box that immediately catches your eye. You pull it out, flipping it over in your hands to examine the front. The box is labeled "Bellybuds," and your brow furrows slightly in curiosity. You’ve never heard of it before, and the image of a pregnant woman with small adhesive speakers attached to her belly leaves you wondering what exactly this is.

You hold it up toward your phone, angling it so Quinn can see the box through the screen. "What is this?" you ask, amusement coloring your voice as you turn it over again, your fingers lightly tracing the packaging.

On the other side of the phone, Quinn's face lights up, a playful grin spreading across his lips. "It's headphones... for babygirl," he says, his voice warm and filled with excitement, like a child presenting their favorite toy. "We can talk to her, play music, and stuff. Thought it'd be nice for her to hear us more clearly."

A small laugh escapes your lips, the sound light against the stillness of the room, as you glance down at your baby bump, gently resting your free hand on the slight curve of your belly. You look back at the screen, shaking your head affectionately at him. "But we already talk to her all the time," you say with a smile, "do we really need these?"

Quinn shrugs a little, but there’s a certain softness in the way he does it, a sheepish look crossing his face. His grin doesn’t fade, though—if anything, it only deepens as he watches your reaction, his eyes bright with affection. "I figured it could be fun," he admits, his voice quieter now, the tone laced with a hint of vulnerability that tugs at your heart. "You know... just something special we can do. I thought maybe she’d like hearing music, or hearing us talk to her in a different way."

You feel a warmth bloom in your chest at his words, a gentle wave of affection washing over you. The thought of Quinn, so excited to connect with your unborn daughter, to create memories and bonds even before she arrives—it fills you with a deep sense of love for him. He’s always been thoughtful, but there’s something about this moment, something about the quiet sincerity in his voice, that makes your heart swell.

You lower the box slightly, your hand still resting on your belly as you glance down at it again. The idea of playing music for her, of letting her hear the rhythm of your favorite songs, or of Quinn’s voice as he talks to her when he’s away on trips, suddenly feels incredibly sweet and meaningful.

"You’re so sweet," you murmur, lifting your gaze back to him, your voice soft and filled with affection. "I didn’t even think of something like this. But I love it."

Quinn’s grin widens at your words, his eyes crinkling at the corners as a flush of pride washes over his face. "I’m glad," he says, his tone lighter now, clearly pleased with himself. "Figured it was something a little different. Plus, I can play her some good music while I’m gone. Gotta get her used to my playlists early," he adds with a chuckle.

A snort escapes you, as you shake your head. "Right, because I’m sure she’s going to love Counting Crows just as much as you do," you tease, your smile growing as you imagine him curating a playlist of all his favorite songs just for her.

"Hey, she’ll have great taste, thanks to me," he replies, feigning mock offense, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he’s enjoying the playful banter as much as you are. "She’s gonna be the coolest kid around, trust me."

You roll your eyes with a grin, but your heart swells with warmth at the thought of the two of you already imagining what kind of music she’ll like, how she’ll react to the sounds of your voices. It makes everything feel more real, more tangible—like your little family is slowly but surely coming together.

You open the box carefully, pulling out the small circular speakers, running your fingers over the smooth surface. The adhesive pads are meant to stick to your belly, gently transmitting sound into your womb.

"You know," you begin, your gaze flickering back to the phone screen, "I think it’ll be really nice. She’ll get to hear your voice more often when you’re away for games... it’ll be like you’re still here, even when you’re not."

Quinn’s expression softens at that, his grin fading into something more tender, more intimate. "Yeah," he murmurs, his voice filled with a quiet warmth. "That’s exactly what I was hoping for. I hate being away, especially now. But this... I thought it could help. Like, she’ll know I’m still with you two, even when I’m on the road."

Your heart flutters at his words, and you can feel the emotions welling up inside you, your eyes watering as you look at him. The way he talks about your daughter, the way he’s so thoughtful and attentive to both of you, makes you fall in love with him even more. You bite your lip, a smile spreading across your face as you press your hand a little more firmly against your belly, feeling the weight of your daughter resting there.

"She’s going to love hearing your voice," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "And so will I."

"Hey there, sweet girl," Quinn’s voice is a low, soothing murmur, barely above a whisper, as he speaks into the microphone of his phone. "Daddy here," he adds softly, his tone filled with warmth and tenderness, like every word is wrapped in love.

He shifts carefully on the bed, moving slowly so as not to disturb you from your deep sleep. The dim light from his phone screen casts a soft glow over the room, the only sound being the quiet hum of the fan and the gentle rise and fall of your breath. Quinn settles back against the pillows, adjusting himself so he can be closer to you, his body leaning into your side.

His free hand reaches out, fingertips grazing the soft fabric of your tank top before gently coming to rest on the curve of your baby bump. His touch is light, reverent, like he’s afraid he might wake you if he presses too hard. But even in your sleep, the warmth of his hand resting on your belly sends a sense of comfort through you, as though even unconsciously, your body knows that he's there. His thumb starts moving in slow, gentle circles over your bump, a calming rhythm that has become second nature to him—his way of connecting with both of you.

His eyes soften as he gazes down at the swell of your stomach, where your baby girl is growing, nestled safely inside you. The sight still fills him with awe every time he sees it—the miracle of life forming between you both, the quiet anticipation of becoming a father. He leans closer, careful not to disturb the Bellybuds that are attached to your bump, the small adhesive pads delivering his voice directly to the baby through the connected cord in the phone.

"Just wanted to let you know how much I love you," he whispers softly, his voice low and full of affection. "Before I go to sleep tonight."

The corners of his lips twitch into a small smile as he speaks, his thumb continuing its gentle movements over your belly, tracing slow, lazy circles. He takes a deep breath, letting the moment wash over him. It’s something he’s done often lately—these quiet talks with your baby girl before bed. He knows she might not fully understand, but the thought of her possibly hearing his voice, growing familiar with the sound of her dad, fills him with a sense of happiness he can’t quite put into words.

"I had a long day, and I know you’re probably resting too," he continues, his voice steady but filled with a kind of quiet wonder. "But I couldn’t let the night end without saying goodnight." He leans forward just slightly, brushing a soft kiss against the top of your belly, the warmth of his lips barely touching your skin. "I can’t wait to meet you, sweet girl. Every day, I think about what it’s going to be like when you’re finally here with us."

There’s a pause as he glances up at you, still sound asleep beside him, your breathing steady and peaceful. The room feels still, but in a way that makes everything feel more intimate, more present. His eyes flicker back down to your belly, the small life growing inside, and he feels the overwhelming sense of love flood him once again—an emotion so strong it almost takes his breath away.

"I promise I’ll always take care of you," Quinn whispers into the microphone, his voice dropping even lower, as though he’s sharing a secret just between him and his daughter. "And your mom, too. We’re a team, the three of us. And I’m gonna do my best to make sure you have everything you need, to keep you safe, and to love you more than anything in this world."

His hand moves slightly, his palm now resting flat against the curve of your belly, feeling the faint, subtle movements beneath. Sometimes, when the timing is right, he can feel her respond, little kicks or shifts, as though she knows he’s there. It’s in those moments that the reality of fatherhood feels most real to him, the little reminders that soon, she’ll be here in his arms.

"You’re already so loved, you know that?" he murmurs, his voice soft and tender as he speaks into the microphone, his gaze never leaving your bump. "Your mom and I... we talk about you all the time. What you’ll be like, what you’ll look like. I think you’re going to be perfect. And I can’t wait to see who you become."

The weight of his words lingers in the air, and Quinn takes another breath, feeling the warmth of your body beside him, the closeness of your shared space. He glances back at you, his heart swelling with affection as he takes in the peaceful look on your face, the way you look so serene in your sleep. He leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, his lips brushing lightly against your skin.

"I’m so lucky to have you," he whispers, his voice barely audible, meant only for your sleeping ears. "Both of you."

For a long moment, Quinn just lays there, his hand resting protectively over your belly, his heart full of so much love he can barely contain it. He thinks about the future—the late-night feedings, the first steps, the endless love he’s ready to give to both you and your daughter. It all feels so real, so close, and he can’t help but feel grateful for everything you’ve built together.

After a few more moments of quiet, he shifts slightly, letting out a soft sigh as his hand lingers on your bump one last time. "Goodnight, sweet girl," he whispers softly into the microphone, his voice full of tenderness and love. "I’ll see you soon."

"Hey there, sweet girl, Daddy here." Quinn speaks into the microphone of his phone, the sound laced with a soft chuckle as he follows you around the kitchen, making sure the Bellybuds stay securely attached to your baby bump. Every step you take, he mirrors, careful not to let the wires tangle or the pads come loose.

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the smile that tugs at your lips as you shuffle around the counter. "Quinn, I’m trying to cook," you say, your tone a mix of amusement and exasperation as you glance over your shoulder at him.

"It’s not my fault Mommy got out of bed before I could say good morning, right, sweet girl?" His grin widens as he speaks into the phone, leaning in slightly as though your daughter, nestled safely in your belly, can hear him more clearly that way. There’s a lightness in his voice, full of the kind of joy that comes naturally when he’s talking to your unborn child—like he’s already practicing the loving banter he’ll share with her once she’s here.

You shake your head, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you move back to the stove, carefully flipping the strips of bacon sizzling in the pan. The kitchen is cozy, the rich, savory smell of breakfast filling the air, mingling with the faint scent of coffee brewing on the counter. Sunlight streams in through the windows, casting a golden glow across the countertops, and the whole scene feels peaceful, wrapped in the simple comfort of a Saturday morning.

Quinn trails behind you, keeping close, the ever-present grin still on his face. His eyes are filled with that familiar playful glint, the one that tells you he’s not taking any of this too seriously—but at the same time, you know just how much these moments mean to him. He takes every chance he can get to bond with your little one, to talk to her, even if it’s just silly things or affectionate words whispered against your belly. It’s something you’ve grown to love even more about him during this pregnancy—how committed he is to being present, even before she’s here.

You shuffle across the kitchen to grab a plate for the bacon, and as you do, Quinn follows closely behind, adjusting the Bellybuds’ cord as you move. You shoot him another glance, one eyebrow raised, even as a smile pulls at the corner of your lips. "Shouldn’t you be getting ready for morning skate?" you ask, your tone teasing as you gesture vaguely toward the clock on the wall.

Quinn shrugs, leaning casually against the counter, his hand resting on your bump for just a moment before he drops it back to his side. "Nah," he says with a playful smirk, "I’ve got a few minutes. Besides, what’s more important—hockey or talking to my daughter?" His eyes sparkle with mischief as he shifts his focus back to your belly, speaking directly into the microphone. "See, sweet girl? Daddy has his priorities straight. Morning skate can wait."

You let out another huff of amusement, shaking your head as you plate the crispy bacon. "Priorities, huh?" You glance at him, a soft smile dancing on your lips. "I’ll remember that the next time you’re in the playoffs."

He laughs, the sound rich and easy, and steps closer, his arms wrapping loosely around your waist from behind, careful not to disrupt your cooking. You feel the warmth of his chest press against your back, the familiar weight of his body comforting as he leans his chin gently on your shoulder, peeking around to watch you cook. His hand slides down, resting protectively over your bump, his fingers splayed across your belly as if he’s trying to feel every little movement she might make.

"I promise," he murmurs, his voice softer now, his lips brushing your ear, "she’ll always come first. Even during playoffs."

The sincerity in his voice makes your heart flutter, and for a moment, you pause in your task, turning your head just enough to catch his gaze. There’s a softness in his eyes, that quiet kind of love that’s always been there, but seems to have grown even deeper during this pregnancy. You lean back into him slightly, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath against your back, and for a brief moment, everything feels perfectly still.

"I know," you murmur, your hand resting on top of his as it cradles your belly.

The moment stretches on for a beat longer, before Quinn presses a soft kiss to your temple, then pulls back with a playful grin. "But seriously," he adds, "we can’t have her growing up thinking she's not the light of my life."

You laugh, the sound bright and easy as you turn back to the stove, flipping the eggs that are now starting to sizzle in the pan. "No, we definitely can’t have that." You agree, amused.

Quinn leans against the counter, still keeping a close eye on you as you move around the kitchen, his eyes occasionally flicking down to your belly. He’s quiet for a moment, just watching, but there’s a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Besides, I think she’s already going to have pretty high expectations for you," you say, glancing at him with a smile as you finish cooking, setting the eggs and bacon on the table. "Talking to her every day, following me around like a puppy..."

He shrugs again, not even trying to hide the grin this time. "Hey, I’ve got to make sure she knows she’s got the best dad in the world, right?"

You shake your head, laughing as you move toward him, your arms wrapping loosely around his neck as he pulls you close. "I think she’s going to know that no matter what," you say softly, your eyes meeting his, your fingers gently playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, the kind that’s full of love and gratitude, the kind that says more than words ever could. "I love you," he murmurs against your lips, his voice soft but full of warmth.

"I love you too," you whisper back, your hand resting over his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath your palm. You glance down at your belly, where the Bellybuds are still securely attached, and grab his phone from his hand, bringing the microphone to your lips. "And I know you love daddy too, right sweet girl?"

"Hey there, sweet girl, Daddy here," Quinn whispers softly into the microphone, his voice a murmur in the stillness of the night. The house around you is silent, save for the faint rustling of the trees outside the window and the gentle sound of your breathing as you sleep peacefully beside him. The soft glow from the bedside lamp casts a warm, golden light over the room, wrapping the two of you in a cocoon of comfort.

Carefully, Quinn adjusts the Bellybuds, making sure the small adhesive speakers are securely attached to your growing belly, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he does. Once satisfied that everything is in place, he leans back against the pillows, settling himself beside you and letting out a quiet, contented sigh.

"You're due to come see me and Mommy very soon," he begins. His free hand moves to rest gently on your belly, the warmth of his palm spreading across your skin as his thumb traces slow, soothing circles over the curve of your bump. "And we're so excited to finally meet you."

The smile on his face widens as he speaks the words aloud, the reality of it sinking in more and more with every passing day. His heart swells with emotion, a mixture of excitement and nerves at the thought of holding his daughter in his arms for the first time. He’s imagined it a thousand times already—what it will feel like, what she’ll look like—and yet, he knows nothing can truly prepare him for the moment when she finally arrives.

"We have your nursery all set up," he continues, his voice full of pride. "Mommy picked out the prettiest colors and decorations. And she bought you so many cute outfits... I know you’ll be just adorable." His words are filled with affection as he thinks about the hours you spent meticulously planning and decorating the nursery. He remembers the way your eyes lit up with excitement every time a new package arrived at the door—tiny clothes, soft blankets, little shoes too small to seem real.

Quinn chuckles softly to himself, his thumb still moving in slow circles over your belly. "I can already picture you wearing those little onesies. Mommy’s got good taste," he says with a grin, though his voice softens as he adds, "You’re going to be the most beautiful girl in the world, and I can’t wait to see you."

The room falls into a comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air. His gaze drifts back to you, watching as you shift slightly in your sleep, snuggling deeper into the blankets. He loves these quiet moments with you, when the world feels small and the love he has for you and your growing family feels like the only thing that matters.

"You're our first, sweet girl," he murmurs, his voice dropping even lower, as if he's sharing a secret meant just for her. His thumb continues its rhythmic motion on your belly, grounding him in the moment, the connection between the three of you palpable. "So Mommy and I... we might not be perfect. We’ll probably make mistakes, and we’re still learning. But I promise you, we’ll always try our best for you."

The sincerity in his words hangs in the air, a promise that he knows will shape the rest of his life. Fatherhood is something he’s thought about for so long, and now that it’s just around the corner, the weight of it feels both exhilarating and humbling. He knows there will be challenges, sleepless nights, moments of doubt—but he also knows that the love he feels for you and your daughter will guide him through it all. It already has.

"Daddy loves you," he whispers softly into the microphone, his voice filled with all the love and devotion he can possibly give. "So much. And I can’t wait to show you just how much when you get here." He leans down then, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your belly, his lips warm against your skin.

Scarlett Eloise Hughes was born on July 2nd, arriving into the world at seven pounds, four ounces, with the tiniest tuft of brown hair and the clearest green eyes you’d ever seen. From the moment you heard her first cry, a quiet, delicate sound that filled the room, your heart swelled with a love so overwhelming, it felt like nothing else existed beyond that moment. Time seemed to slow as the nurses moved around you, murmuring their congratulations as they swiftly began their work.

The delivery couldn’t have gone smoother. It was as if Scarlett herself had been eager to meet you and Quinn, arriving just two hours after you checked into the hospital. Your contractions had come on strong that morning, starting as a dull ache and quickly intensifying until you knew it was time.

But even considering the relative ease of it all, you were exhausted—utterly spent in the best possible way. The rush of adrenaline from labor, the flood of emotions that came with bringing new life into the world, had left you physically and emotionally drained, but also more fulfilled than ever before.

You watched through hazy eyes as Quinn, who had been by your side every second, stepped forward to cut Scarlett’s umbilical cord. The nurse handed him the scissors, and though his hand trembled slightly, his face was full of awe. You could see the tears glistening in his eyes as he gently snipped the cord, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep his emotions in check. It was such a simple act, but in that moment, it felt monumental—like a bridge between pregnancy and the start of your new lives as parents.

Once the nurses had gently taken Scarlett away to clean her off, weigh her, and perform the routine newborn checks, the room felt quiet, almost surreal. You lay back against the pillows, your body heavy with fatigue but your heart full of love. Every so often, you could hear the soft sound of Scarlett’s tiny cries as they swaddled her in a warm blanket and placed her in the bassinet.

Then, at last, they brought her over to you.

The moment they placed her in your arms, everything else melted away. Scarlett was so small, so delicate, her skin still slightly flushed from the effort of being born. Her tiny fingers curled reflexively into a fist, her eyes blinking up at you as though she were trying to focus on the face she had yet to fully see but already knew so well. The warmth of her little body pressed against yours made your chest tighten with emotion, and as you gazed down at her, you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

"Hi, Scarlett," you whispered softly, your voice thick with emotion as you leaned your forehead against hers for just a moment, taking in her scent, that unmistakable newborn smell that was somehow both sweet and comforting. "We’ve been waiting for you."

Scarlett blinked again, her tiny lips parting slightly as she made a soft cooing sound, and in that moment, it was as though your entire world had shifted. Every hope, every dream, every little piece of your life had led to this—this beautiful, perfect baby girl in your arms.

You shifted her gently, positioning her so you could nurse her for the first time. Her tiny mouth latched onto your breast instinctively, and the sensation was both strange and wonderful all at once.

It was breathtaking moment, just you and her, connected in a way that felt profound to you. You could feel her little body relax against yours as she fed, her breathing evening out, her tiny fingers resting against your chest.

Tears filled your eyes again, and you glanced over at Quinn, who stood watching silently. His eyes held a mix of emotions—joy, admiration, and a deep, unwavering love. He hadn’t stopped smiling since the moment she was born, but now, watching you nurse Scarlett, that smile softened into something more tender, more meaningful.

Once Scarlett finished feeding, you gently lifted her and cradled her close to your chest, marveling at how perfectly she fit into your arms, like she was meant to be there all along. After a few moments, you met Quinn’s gaze and smiled softly.

"You're up next, daddy." you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Quinn nodded, his throat visibly working as he tried to suppress the wave of emotion threatening to overcome him, though you could see the eagerness in his eyes.

"Take off your shirt," you added, remembering the advice about skin-to-skin contact. You wanted him to experience that bond, the warmth of her small body against his, just as you had.

Without hesitation, Quinn pulled off his shirt, tossing it onto the nearby chair. He stepped closer, his movements careful and measured, as though he were afraid of disturbing the fragile moment. Gently, you passed Scarlett into his arms, watching as he settled into the chair beside your hospital bed.

The second Scarlett was in his arms, her little body resting against his bare chest, something changed in Quinn. His entire posture softened, his shoulders relaxing as if every ounce of tension had melted away. He held her with the utmost care, his large hands supporting her tiny head, his thumb brushing gently across her back as she nestled against him.

"Hey there, sweet girl," Quinn whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he gazed down at her in awe. "Daddy here."

Scarlett’s small hand flexed against his chest, and Quinn let out a shaky breath, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He leaned his head down slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering there as though he couldn’t bear to pull away.

The sight of them together—the love radiating from Quinn, the peaceful way Scarlett settled into his arms—filled you with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and happiness. This was your family now. The three of you, together, bound by the deepest kind of love.

Quinn rocked gently in the chair, his eyes never leaving Scarlett’s face, as though he were committing every detail of this moment to memory. "You’re so beautiful," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I love you so much. You have no idea."

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you watched them, your heart full to bursting. This was everything you had hoped for and more—a moment of pure, unfiltered love. "She’s perfect," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Quinn glanced up at you, his eyes shining with tears of his own. "Yeah, she really is."

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fluff #dad!quinn hughes #sweet girl

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sunrizef1 · 4 hours ago

Text

The Truth in Pretending

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader

Warnings: umeployed!logan, Williams racing

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: Logan is on the brink of losing his seat. Maybe a relationship with a famous singer would help him keep it.

ynln

📍New York City, New York

liked by oliviarodrigo sabrinacarpenter and 6,088,987 others

ynln life lately ��

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user1 my baby

user2 diva core

user3 I am feral for this woman

user4 new music when??????

user5 real 😭

oliviarodrigo beautiful girl 😘

liked by ynln

ynln no, you 🫶

user6 I love her

user7 MY BAEEEEE

user8 I need new music

user9 how can I relate this post to rep tv

user10 that cat is so real cuz I would act the same way if I met y/n

sabrinacarpenter 💕

ynln 💕

user11 looked in the mirror and sighed

user12 need her

user13 Taylor liked

user14 god PLEASE

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sabrinacarpenter

u could say that again 😮‍💨

never taking another tequila shot again 🤮

ynln

It wasn’t *that* bad

I’ve only thrown up twice this morning 🤷‍♀️

sabrinacarpenter

well, don’t look at me for blame

we needed to celebrate your last day of independence

ynln

That’s not what that was

I’m sure he’s wonderful

sabrinacarpenter

hmm

he’ll have to win me over

I’m not convinced

Especially since it’s his team making you do this

ynln

I could’ve said no

sabrinacarpenter

but u didn’t

Cuz u were pressured into it

it’s not hard to tell

I litteraly have a whole song about not being a mind-reader and even I could tell

ynln

wtvr

it’s fine, really

sabrinacarpenter

have u even met him

ynln

We meet today

sabrinacarpenter

Good luck, soldier 🫡

you’ll need it 💋

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sabrinacarpenter liked your story ♥️

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logansargeant

who took this?

ynln

lily!

she was walking with Alex behind us on the way out

logansargeant

oh, I didn’t know they were there

it’s a cute picture

ynln

you rly think so?

logansargeant

I like it, at least

ynln

don’t worry

I do too

logansargeant

thanks for coming btw

you didn’t have to

ynln

I mean, technically I was contractually obligated to

but I had fun

I’m glad I came

logansargeant

but I finished p20

sorry I couldn’t make your first race more exciting

I fear it will be a lot of p20 this season

ynln

Logan, it’s fine

I know nothing about f1

I was just having fun watching you race

logansargeant

so I take it you liked your first race?

ynln

I did!

lily might just be my new favorite person

Don’t tell Sabrina I said that

logansargeant

I don’t have any way to do that so I think you’re safe

I’m getting nervous you might like lily more than you like me

I mean, ur not contractually obligated to hang out with her

ynln

lol

we might be a contract but I do like you lo

logansargeant

good to know

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sabrinacarpenter

ew, nerds

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ynln

hi :)

logansargeant liked a message ♥️

logansargeant

do u maybe have extra shampoo in your hotel room…?

I don’t have any

ynln

oh my sweet angel logan

I don’t use hotel shampoo

You can have all of mine

logansargeant

oh yay

can u bring it over

ynln

yeah I got you

what room are you

logansargeant

4567

ynln

Oh you’re just down the hall

I’ll be over in a min

logansargeant

thank you :)

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sabrinacarpenter

oh my poor baby

stuck in England for American independence day

ynln

I think I’ll survive 🤷‍♀️

sabrinacarpenter

oh?

ynln

yeah

I mean I have this lovely little puppy for company

sabrinacarpenter

who’s dog is that?

ynln

Logan’s

sabrinacarpenter

ugh

not him

ynln

He’s wonderful

sabrinacarpenter

hmmmm

I’m not convinced

ynln

well I am

sabrinacarpenter

oh!

you’re not into him, r u?

ynln

Nope

he’s just rly nice sab

sabrinacarpenter

mmmm

ynln

well I have a 4th of July party to get ready for

bye sab

sabrinacarpenter

don’t think I didn’t notice that ur having a party with Logan when there’s not even anyone around to see it and help your pr

ynln

ur getting blocked

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logansargeant

where’d u goooo ☹️

ynln

lol I’m in the backyard

u good?

logansargeant

yeah, I’m just feeling too patriotic

need to talk to another American

ynln

you’ve been talking to me all day?

logansargeant

well yeah but I can’t go too long without an American or I start to turn British

ynln

lol, come outside

logansargeant

already omw ☺️

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logansargeant

❤️❤️❤️❤️

ynln

❤️❤️❤️❤️

logansargeant

I’m so glad u came :)

ynln

I am too

I meant it when I said I was proud of you

logansargeant

thanks y/n :)

for once, I am too

ynln liked a message ♥️

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ynln

liked by taylorswift logansargeant and 12,998,907 others

ynln happy summer ☀️

packing it up out now 🎧

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user15 AHHHHH

user16 y/n l/n returns to Instagram posts

user17 WAIT THIS SONG IS SO CUTE

user18 I spot Logan!

user19 “I came so close to packing it up but then you happened” 😭

user20 waitttt this is lovely

user21 this is her so high school

taylorswift so good!!! 🙌

liked by ynln ♥️

user22 Logan sargeant you have rocked my world

lilymhe I would like photo creds

ynln so sorry guys, lily took the middle photo!!!!

user23 wait the Williams boys vacationed together? 🥺

user24 this is so

logansargeant ☀️

liked by ynln ♥️

user25 BOAF OF EM

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MESSAGES

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TWITTER

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MESSAGES

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INSTAGRAM

ynln added to their story

logansargeant

idk can you make the plane move faster or something

ynln

Ur so impatient

logansargeant

sry I wanna see my gf who I love or wtvr

ynln

oh?

There’s a couple big steps in that statement

logansargeant

Delete delete delete

how do u delete messages on Instagram

I didn’t say a word

ynln

oh no, dw, I enjoyed it

logansargeant

r u sure?

cus I just figured out how to delete messages

thanks google

ynln

nope

don’t delete it

as ur gf, I think I should get used to that

(+ I love u 2, so the feelings mutual)

logansargeant

oh thank god

I was worried I’d have to disappear off the face of the planet

ynln

oh don’t do that

I haven’t even seen you as your official gf yet

logansargeant

giggling and kicking my feet

ynln

lmfao, shut up 😭

logansargeant liked a message ♥️ ——

ynln

📍London, England

liked by logansargeant sabrinacarpenter and 21,676,088 others

ynln back where he belongs

tagged: logansargeant

load comments…

user26 I am deeply in love with them

user27 as a Logan fan, I am thankful for this sign of life

user28 love that, instead of using a candid, she used a pic of him at Williams just to put an x over the logo lmfao

user29 she’s so diva, I love it

user30 MY SHAYLAAAA

sabrinacarpenter ig he’s alright

liked by ynln ♥️

logansargeant I’m honored

sabrinacarpenter don’t get too cocky, ur still unemployed 🚩

user31 They’re MY Taylor and Travis

user32 I WAS SO CLOSE TO PACKING IT UPPP BUT THATS RIGHT WHEN YOU HAPPENEDDDDDD

taylorswift happy for you!

ynln thanks tay!

user33 HES FREE! WORST EXPERIENCE OF HIS LIFE!

user34 why does my goat look so happy to be fired

user35 if I got to get out of that hellhole and go home to my beautiful girlfriend who writes sweet songs about me, I would also be very happy

logansargeant I love you 😍

ynln lol, I love you too nerd

user36 oh my god they’re so perfect I love them so much

user37 actually let’s talk more about the x over the Williams logo

user38 killatrav liked

user39 ofc he did, this is tayvis 2.0

user40 tayvis this, tayvis that. No, this is my Louis and Olivia.

user41 new albums gonna bang

——

tag list: @evie-119 @casperlikej

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant smau #f1 smau #logan sargent x reader #logan sargent fluff #logan sargent x fem!reader

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spxfav · 2 days ago

Text

Wedding Night

Summary: After your wedding, you and Spencer head out to your suíte, expecting to have a movie-like wedding night. However, that's not exactly what happens.

Warnings: Reader referred to as a woman. Nothing much, actually, this is just very sweet.

Word count: 1.8k

a/n: This came to me as I was getting ready for bed at 7 A.M. after my graduation ball, and I kept thinking how it would be a realistic wedding night lol. Enjoy <3

Lace underwear, romantic music, candlelit room and loving whispers. Champagne and strawberries, maybe a bubble bath afterwards and falling asleep in each other’s arms. That’s how you pictured your wedding night.

The reality, however, couldn’t be more different.

Spencer’s hand rests on your lower back, huge smiles on both your faces as you stumble with the key card to get into the hotel room.

“I can do it.” You say, smiling ear to ear.

“I can see that.” He mocked, making you giggle as he leaned in, placing a loving kiss on your forehead.

You cheered, cheeks red from the alcohol when the door was finally unlocked, and he laughed and placed a finger over your lips.

“Shhh, it’s three in the morning.” His voice was a hushed whisper as you, once again, giggled against his finger and walked into the room.

It was beautiful, dimly lit with flowers everywhere and a gorgeous view to the vineyard you two got married in. As you admired the room, though, Spencer could only admire the woman in front of him. His wife. He still couldn’t believe he got to call you that.

He had this lovesick smile on his face as he approached, arms encircling your waist as he bent down to pepper your face with kisses, making you giggle as his mustache tickles your skin.

“You look so pretty.” He said when you turned around, his hand moving to rest on your face.

“You already said that. A million times.” You smile, eyes shining as you look up at him.

“I’ll say it a million times more.” He murmured, looking at you like you created the Earth itself, and kissed you. It was slow, tender. Like he had no rush at all. And he didn’t. Thankfully, you were his all night, and for the next fifteen days of your honeymoon. This was the first of many, many kisses.

"Have I ever told you how much I like this?" You ask, interrupting the kiss as your finger moves up to trace the dark hair on his upper lip.

"The stash?" He asks with a cocky smile and you laugh at the word, and the way his voice sounded whenever he tried - and failed - to use slangs.

"Yes, the stash." You say, your voice slightly mocking.

"Good thing I forgot to shave." He murmurs with a smile, bending down to capture your lips once more, his smile blending with his as your arms circle around his neck to pull him even closer.

His hand finds its way to the back of your head, tangling in your meticulously styled hair that he had been oh so careful not to ruin all day. The other palm, resting on your waist, slowly pushes you back towards the wall, his lips not leaving yours for one second.

Sliding down, you feel the heat of his hand moving from your waist to your hip, then to your backside, and involuntarily, you let out a giggle against his lips.

“What?” He asks, smiling as his mouth moves against yours.

“Naughty.” Your murmur makes him laugh, eyes twinkling with amusement as he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“Excuse me?”

“We haven’t been here for five minutes and you’re already trying to get freaky.” The slurring in your words, the way you said it with your brow lifted like that, simply made him laugh more. "I think it's the mustache. There's a reason why they call it a pornstache."

“Mrs. Reid… Are you drunk?” His hands were back on your waist, his thumbs caressing your skin over the dress so tenderly. You smile widely, biting your bottom lip to unsuccessfully try to contain it.

“Just a little bit, Dr. Reid” Your fingers were brought together in a pinching motion as you showed him the visual amount of your “drunkness”.

“More than a little bit.” He smiled, bringing his own fingers up to open yours and make the quantity more appropriate.

“Okay, fair enough” You laughed, but your lips were back on his half a second later, and this time, it was you guiding you both to the bed.

The dress was heavy, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh when you sat on the fluffy mattress, the blankets blending it with the white fabric.

“What?”

“You look like a cupcake.” He says, earning a scoff from you and being attacked by a random pillow that was close enough for you to reach.

“Take it back!” Your voice was as serious as you could manage it to be, but the smile on your lips was a dead giveaway that you weren’t actually upset.

“Alright, I’m sorry. You don’t look like a cupcake.” He smiled in that charming way that makes your knees give out. Good thing you were sitting.

“Thank you.” Your face was already between his hands, and the pillow falls uselessly by the bed when he guides you down onto the mattress, his body weight pushing you down as you allow yourself to drown in his touches.

His tongue explores your mouth in gentle, languid kisses, and you were comfortable in his arms, enveloped by the smell of his cologne, laying on the soft bedding…

“Darling?” You blink, your eyes meeting his and that crushing smile “Are you falling asleep on me?”

“No…” You blink again, and this time, completely against your will, a yawn escapes your lips.

“So, you’re that kind of drunk.” His fingers gently brush some of the curls away from your face.

“Sorry. No, I’m good. I’m not going to fall asleep.”

“Sure you won’t.”

“I won’t.”

“I believe you.” No, he didn’t.

Spencer knew you well enough by now. You’ve been "happy drunk" for hours at the party, but that wave had long passed. Two more minutes in this bed and you’d be completely out of it.

“Honey” He smiles, caressing your cheek when your eyes start drooping again.

“I’m awake!” His laughter is so angelical, and you smile despite it all.

“Listen, we have fifteen days. We’re both exhausted, and I’m sure you can’t be very comfortable right now, in such a tight dress and with your hair like this. We can just sleep, it’s fine.”

“But it’s our wedding night.” You pout, and the look on his face softens.

“I know, but you’ve been up since six a.m.”

“Still. I can do this. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Disappoint me?” He chuckles incredulously and takes your face between his hands again. “My love, you’re not disappointing me, not in the slightest. I just got married to the woman of my dreams, to the love of my life. I’ll have the rest of my life to have sex with you, one night won’t kill me.”

His voice was earnest, and his heart was light. He loved you more than anything, and the last thing he wanted was you feeling like you weren’t enough because you were too tired to give him a wedding night like the ones in movies.

“Let’s get you out of all of this, and then go to bed.” Before you could protest, he was already up, your body in his arms as he carried you bridal-style to the bathroom. Fitting.

Your laugh echoed in the room as your arms moved to wrap around his neck and hold you up.

“I can walk, you know.”

“I didn’t want to take any chances of you refusing.” He left a kiss on the tip of your nose as he placed you back down on the floor.

His fingers worked with expertise as he carefully removed the bobby pins from your hair, the pile growing and growing.

“Jesus, how many do you have in here?” He murmured, and you could only giggle as you looked at the reflection of the two of you in the mirror.

Next, came the makeup. Well, came off the makeup.

He still remembers how, every night as you wash your face, you use two products, smiling at him and saying “I have to double cleanse.”

The pads of his fingers massaged the oil on your eyes, melting away the mascara and the layers and layers of product that had been on your face since morning, reapplied to look fresh the whole time.

“You’re so pretty.”

“I probably look exhausted. I’m sure it was better with the makeup.” You smile, and his heart absolutely melts. How he loved that smile.

“Um, no. You’re pretty either way. You could be bald and painted in blue, and you’d still be just as pretty.” You giggle, but he was dead serious. In Spencer’s eyes, you were the most gorgeous person in the universe – yes, universe, because he was sure you’d still be a thousand times prettier than whatever other life form there is out there.

The zipper moves down slowly, and soon, the giant dress is on the floor. His mouth goes dry at the sight of you, his brain momentarily not working.

“See? I was prepared.” You do a little twirl, joking as you have no idea just how much the sight of the black lingerie affected him.

“I’m the luckiest man on the planet.” He murmured, almost to himself as he stepped closer, taking your face in his hands and pulling you in for another kiss, effectively shutting up whatever drunken ramble you were going on about.

This time, his lips were a little more desperate. He was a gentleman through and through, but come on, he was still a man. And with you looking like that in front of him? How could he react any other way?

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist it.” He murmurs, breathless when he finally pulls just the slightest away, the warm palms of his hands still holding your face in place.

“Don’t ever apologise for kissing me.” You murmur back, and you can feel the way the smile comes to his lips.

“Come on, darling. Let’s go to bed.” He picks you up again, and in – very pleasant – seconds, your body sinks on the mattress.

Spencer can feel the warmth of your body against his, the softness of your skin under his hands. He can feel the curve of your backside fitting perfectly against his hips, can smell your perfume and drown in the mess of your post-hairstyle curls.

“Honey?” Your voice was a soft murmur in the dark.

“Yes, darling?” His eyes were half open, his restraint holding him back from doing anything as his lips hover over the curve of your shoulder, so tantalisingly close.

“I’m not sleepy anymore.” The smile that takes over his lips is instant, his hands moving on your skin with a little more purpose once he feels your hips pushing back against his.

“Mm, that’s good.” He whispers and finally allows himself to place hot kisses on your shoulder and up your neck. “But I’ll go slow anyway.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom #doctor spencer reid

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beeeeandpuppycat · 14 hours ago

Text

That Leon s(lut) Kennedy smut alph I promised (I forgot so it took me months >:[)

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

No in-between he's either leaving you in bed alone to go work or your gonna wake up snuggled in two strong arms pushed against his chest

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Belly!I can imagine him nuzzling his face into his partners belly in a tired manner after he had a long day

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

ALOT I mean I can imagine he doesn't do it that often so it comes out in one big go! Like doing it on ur face even if he acts embarrassed

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has a bunch of old shitty porn comics under his bed cause he's too embarrassed to actually buy more

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

In-between I mean he's good but considering he doesn't so it much he isn't the best in the world. Still makes the best effort ♡

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

LAP . You sitting on his lap with ur back facing him. His arms wrapped round you for support and his face down in the crook of your neck.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's usually serious himself. Most the time your more goofy seeing this strong man all blush and flustered. Ending with some lil jokes

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's pretty well groomed ? I mean look in the future he dyes his hair and everything. Straight and a pale blonde. A pretty sight to the eyes!

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's a cutie. ^^ not necessarily words of passion or even insults he's usually quiet. But romantic where he holds your waist as tight as possible making sure your as close as you can be.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Does it all secretly cause I know he'd be embarrassed about it . Taking more precautions then he should. Tho at some point he got too pent up and had to do it in some dirty club bathroom :/ (poor leon)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink ! More partner complimenting him. It feels nice knowing they really appreciate him. Plus size kink! Both ways. When his partner is taller or shorter. Either way he's getting flustered

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers in the safety of his own home. Hotel rooms mostly places you guys can't be caught . He enjoys the adrenaline but he rather not be seen with his dick out

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Simple touch. Something like a little glance to just your fingers touching when you pass him a pen. The simple jump of his heart when acts like that happen makes this man happy.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything with another person. Even if you would ask he'd end up being uncomfortable

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving.! Of course he tries to give.. but most the time it's not overly good? And he likes the view of seeing you between his thighs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends. Most the time nice and slow. Taking rather deep thrust each time to savor it. If you guys haven't done it in a long time due to him leaving etc? As fast as he can. Most the time it ends with his hips hurting.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a fan! If your not gonna take your time and enjoy it what's the point of even doing it? He might if it's before he's going on a long trip

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yeah! But his partner would have to bring it up. Or else he doesn't really get put his comfort zone

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

BIG. Big stamina(just like his dic-) what do you expect? Look at this man's muscles. I just know he's able to do it long enough till their partner turns to a rag doll

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No>:[ tho poor guy was rather embarrassed when he came home to see his partner using one on themselves. Atleast he knows your not lonely when he's gone? Can't imagine him really using them on himself more his partner.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Usually he's the one being teased. Tho don't take it too far- it would end with him getting pent up and just doing it himself. (Head down ass up)

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Quiet. Small little groups and deep breaths on in a while. Long pants- and occasionally whimpers if you reallyyyy try!

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

At some point when he rent to work he kept seeing this group of cats. It became his routine to bring snacks for them on his way to work! Tho at some point the lil meow meows disappeared. Everything he goes to work he still looks around wondering if they came back

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Just a little bit above average ! Pale with a pretty bubble gum tip and a lil vein going down the bottom. A slight curve in the middle.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not all that high. At some point he became used to not having sex. Tho- after getting with you it definitely became higher.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Silly man falls right asleep. He doesn't really know when to stop so it ends with him just passing himself out at the end

Finally did it!!

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jobean12-blog · 9 hours ago

Text

Forever After All

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader (fake dating/marriage)

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: You and Javi have been working together for a few months and you can't deny that you like him...everything about him. And you know you're not imaginging the subtle flirting and lingering glances but when you have an assignment that puts you two closer than you've ever been before you find out what it all really means.

Author's Note: Pedro and his little Holiday getaway photos have been a gift and when I was talking to my lovely friend @lizette50 (thank you bunches for sharing your brain with me❤️🥰) she made an amazing note that he is giving Javi on vacation vibes. And while Javi isn't exactly on a vacation in this story...he's pretending to be- at least at first. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰

PS I did leave the ending a bit open...maybe I'll do more. Maybe not lol Either way, fear not- you and Javi make out just fine (hehe get it)

Warnings: There's some tension and flirting and Steve is fun sidekick/meddler, feelings get involved, Javi can act a bit possessive and he's a great fucking kisser

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

“Why are you two looking at me like that?” Steve asks, his head on a swivel. “Do you not understand the assignment?”

His finger swings back and forth. “You two…just got married. Now you’re going on your honeymoon. Make it look believable, or we’re fucked.”

Javi swallows and the sound is audible in the silence that stretches between you. Finally, as you cross your arms over your chest and lift your chin, you say, “fine. I can manage that.”

Steve smiles and then shifts his eyes to Javi. “What about you? Because if you’re not up for it I sure as hell don’t mind switching places with you. You can do my job, and I’ll prance around the beach with this beauty.”

Steve throws you a wink and you smile sweetly but your stomach is in knots and you’re sweating under your shirt as you wait for Javi to say something.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he says gruffly. “When do we leave.”

“Tonight,” Steve answers with a grin. “Packed and ready at 7pm.”

Javi nods and gives you one last glance, his eyes lingering just long enough to have your skin heat before he stalks off and shuts the door to his office.

You take a deep breath and square your shoulders.

“I’ll see you at the airport,” you tell Steve.

After the flight attendant checks the luggage above your head you settle into your seat, leaning closer to Steve since Javi has his legs spread like he’s the only person in the aisle.

“You could leave some room for the rest of us,” you grumble, letting your eyes run down Javi’s long legs.

He turns toward you, lifting a brow. “We should be all snuggled up anyway,” he smirks.

You roll your eyes and give Steve a pleading look.

“He’s right though,” Steve adds. “You two are going to have to look convincing if we’re going to pull this off. Might as well start getting cozy now.”

The flight isn’t too long but toward the last hour you start to feel your eyes droop and Javi’s warm body is so close. Before you realize what’s happening your head falls against his shoulder and your arm slips under his.

You feel him shift and maybe feel the slightest squeeze at your knee but you’re too sleepy to know if it’s real or a dream. He smells so good and feels even better and in minutes you’re fast asleep.

“Hey…pst. Come on angel, you gotta get up.”

You sit up with a start and rub at your eyes.

“Angel?” you ask. “Who’s that?”

Your eyes focus on Javi, and he smiles.

“That’s what I’m calling you. Get used to it.”

Your mouth opens to form an O shape.

“Let’s go. We just landed,” he says.

“How long was I out?”

Steve cuts in before Javi can answer.

“Long enough to fall asleep on your husband!” Steve says with vigor. “You two look cute.”

You push past Steve and miss the thumbs up he gives Javi, who ignores him completely.

The hotel is right on the beach, and you can smell the salty air before you even get to the double doors.

Once you’re checked in and settled in your room you’re ready to crash again. After a quick shower you wrap yourself up in the hotel bathrobe and crawl into bed, falling asleep to thoughts of Javi and how comfortable he was to sleep against.

Steve meets you at the outdoor bar on the beach the next day.

“How are my favorite liars doing?” he asks with a chuckle.

“I’m kinda nervous,” you whisper.

“You’re going to do great,” Steve assures you.

Javi remains characteristically quiet, his dark eyes assessing everything around him.

Steve hands Javi a drink. “She looks fucking gorgeous. You should really marry her.”

Javi’s eyes slide to you then down along your body slowly before stopping at your face.

He licks his lips and takes a long sip of his drink but doesn’t respond.

You spend some time at the bar, taking note of the surroundings and zeroing in on your target. Once the man in question notices you as the newcomers he saunters over with a saccharine smile.

You all know about Rafael Caro Quintero. He’s one of Galldaro’s best men but plays his role out in the public eye. He has a lot of money and flaunts it with his businesses and assets. You have intel that he’s going to pull off a big move this weekend and are using the honeymoon as a cover as to why you’re here in Mexico.

Javi’s arm circles around your waist and he pulls you against his side, tightening his grip when Rafael approaches and looks you over appreciatively.

“Well, well, well,” Rafael says smoothly. “What do we have here? I always make sure to say hi to any new faces that come to enjoy my…amenities. Especially one so stunning.”

“My wife,” Javi says, his voice too rough and you give him a light pinch. He looks down at you then let’s his shoulders relax.

“Ah, of course,” Rafael says. “And you’re the lucky bastard who married her.”

“Mexico is one of my favorite places to visit,” you interrupt as you hold out your hand to introduce yourself. “So, Javi and I decided it would be perfect for our honeymoon.”

Rafael’s face lights up and he throws up his hands, making a loud noise of celebration.

“Isn’t that just beautiful,” he says, his voice still booming. “Everyone! Join me in congratulating the lovely couple!”

He starts to clap and all the patrons in the bar area join in, hoisting their drinks and smiling.

Rafael reaches for a spoon from the bar and starts to tap the side of his glass. “Isn’t this what the American’s do for a kiss?”

Steve lifts his glass and turns to you and Javi. “It sure is!”

Javi looks down at you, and through a tight grin whispers, “I’m going to kiss you angel.”

He waits a beat, needing to see the consent in your eyes.

You nod ever so slightly and lean into him. A big hand comes up, cupping your jaw and his eyes drop to your mouth. The first contact is just a brush of his lips over yours, the briefest sweep.

You’re going to be devasted if that’s all you get, but then you hear the quietest moan escape his throat and he leans in again, pressing his soft, strong mouth to yours and taking your top lip between his, sucking gently before he turns his attention to your bottom one.

With a smile forming against the kiss, he tilts his head and takes you with a heat you couldn’t have predicted but makes you feel like you’re falling backward into the clouds.

Or maybe it’s the way he’s cupping the back of your head in one hand, holding you around the waist int other, and dipping you so low you’re nearly on the floor.

Everything is quiet before cheers erupt as Javi smoothly brings you back up in some sexy move you can’t even believe he pulled off.

“Javier Peña,” you whisper as you bury your face in his neck. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Oh, we’re just getting started Mrs. Peña,” he answers back against your ear.

Rafael’s eyes are lit up with glee and he slaps Javi on the back.

“To the newlyweds!” he cheers.

After things settle back down and Rafael’s attention is elsewhere Steve gives both you and Javi a beaming smile. “Wow. For a minute there you even had me believing it,” he teases.

Javi meets your gaze, his eyes falling to your lips again, and he fights the urge to go back for more.

Blinking away, he focuses on your shoulder, and on the strap of your dress that has slipped an inch to the side. He reaches up, stroking the newly exposed skin with his thumb.

Your hand lifts to your lips, still tingling with the warmth of his kiss.

“You’re good at that,” you say quietly.

“At what?” he asks, clearly distracted by your mouth.

“Fake-kissing.”

He hums, his head spinning with the thought that nothing about that felt fake.

“I wonder how you kiss when it’s real,” you whisper, more to yourself than anyone else.

He’s about to drag you away from the crowd to show you when the bartender shows up with more drinks, on the house of course, to celebrate the newlyweds.

You spend some more time at the bar, talking and enjoying the view, always close to Javi, his hand on your lower back, your arm, or his thumb brushing across your cheek. It’s been so easy to fall into the role you almost forget you’re faking it.

Steve leaves the two of you alone, not wanting to hang around too much and seem suspicious.

You watch Javi as he stares out over the water and take a step closer, moving into his space, realizing the moment he registers that he’d been touching you…a soft sweep of his fingers along the curve of your waist.

His eyes go a little wide behind his sunglasses, and he gently moves his hand away.

“Are you nervous?” you ask him.

He shakes his head no. “Not for the reason I should be,” he says but doesn’t elaborate.

You’re about to ask him to explain but you spot Rafael across the bar, he’s talking quietly to someone you don’t recognize and his eyes keeping darting in your direction.

Without letting it show on your face that you’ve noticed him, you press yourself against Javi, your hand sliding up his chest to the open buttons of his shirt.

“Hi,” Javi murmurs.

“Don’t look, but Rafael is just across the bar. He’s sort of watching us.”

Javi drags his attention away from your hand to your face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. So don’t mind me. I’m just trying to look wifey and horny for you.”

“We could just go for a walk on the beach,” he says.

“We could, but…”

Your fingers dip into his shirt to feel his warm skin and you move lower, undoing one more of the buttons.

“Pretending you’re horny too might be better.”

He stares at you, unmoving.

“Or not,” you say, smiling but inside you’re dissolving, piece by piece, in mortification.

When you try to move away he grabs your waist. “Where are you going?”

“To live with my shame alone somewhere.”

Javi laughs, low and dangerous. “No. You misunderstand me angel. My only hesitation is…” and he leans in, running his thumb along your lower lip, “acting was never my strong suit.”

His mouth brushes over yours, giving you one of those feather-soft kisses again.

“That’s a start,” you say as you share a breath.

He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Anything that can make it more convincing?”

“Another. Maybe longer this time?”

He lifts both hands now, cupping your face and leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth before he parts his lips and gently nips at your bottom one.

“Longer, huh?”

Your hands slide around his neck, and you stretch for more, for longer and deeper, his surprised huffed breath coming out warm against your mouth as he lets you suck his beautiful lower lip, dragging your teeth along it in a way that makes him let go of a tight, helpless sound.

His mouth is unreal, commanding and firm, but with full, soft lips that beg to be bitten. And he likes it when you do it too, releasing rough, rumbling sounds to confirm it.

Your hands have a mind of their own, rising up and tangling in his hair as the kiss deepens and he sends one hand down your back to your ass, pulling you closer until you can feel the hard press of him against your stomach.

With a gasp of air, he rests his forehead to yours but keeps a tight hold on you.

“Are you sure you’re not good at this acting thing?” you ask with a teasing smile. “The erection is a great touch. Very convincing.”

His laugh turns into a groan when you suck on his neck, baring your teeth and pressing down.

“Fuck,” he moans.

Your nails scrape along his scalp and with his own grip on the back of your neck he pulls your head away, eyes wild, and comes for your mouth again, setting a languid pace, dragging his tongue over your lower lip with kisses that can only be described as claiming.

“Fuck angel, your mouth is amazing,” he says, sliding his lips along your jaw and down to your pulse point.

Despite the heat of the sun and the heat of him, you shiver in his arms, pressing yourself along every inch of him to keep yourself upright.

Your gaze flicks over his shoulder and you notice Rafael is gone.

“Our friend left,” you whisper, still clinging to him.

Javi exhales a shaky breath near your ear and rests his cheek to yours.

“Well…I guess we can stop then.”

“I guess we can,” you reply, leaning back and taking him in- mussed hair, swollen lips, a small budding bruise on his neck.

“Oops,” you giggle.

He frowns at you. “Did you leave a mark on me?”

“Mayyyybeee,” you sing.

You don’t miss the way his pupils dilate, inky black in the dark chocolate brown of his irises.

“Well, good news is now everyone will know for sure that you’re taken,” you say with a bright smile.

Your eyes drop down to his shorts, and you let out a little whimper at the sight of him hard and pressed against the tight fabric.

“I’m going to take a cold shower,” he says through gritted teeth. “I want you back in the hotel room where you’re safe.”

Your eyebrows meet your hairline. “Oh, so you’re that kind of husband?”

“Just protecting what’s mine,” he whispers as he presses his palm to your lower back and leads you away from the beach.

Javi secures you in your room before walking across the hallway to his. He’s sure to check for anyone who might see before disappearing behind the door.

You’ve agreed to meet for a romantic dinner on the beach at one of Rafael’s best restaurants, the very place you’re hoping to catch him in the act.

Javi knocks on your door right on time and you smooth your hands along your dress before opening it.

He steps back from the doorframe and stares. A shadow appears behind him, and he startles.

“Steve,” he says dryly, putting a hand on his shoulder and moving him away.

Javi gazes at you, and more gently, says, “hi angel.”

“Hi,” you breathe out.

“You look…” he just stares, letting his eyes rake over you. “Gorgeous.”

“That she does,” Steve chimes in from beside you again. “Now…off you go.”

Javi reaches for you, but you can’t stop yourself, pressing your hand to his stomach and wrapping your fist around the soft fabric of his shirt.

You briefly glance at Steve, a silent but friendly, “fuck off,” written all over your expression.

With a smirk, Steve wanders off, but Javi touches a finger to your chin, redirecting your attention to his face. And before you can say anything, he bends, setting his lip softly on yours.

One soft kiss, and then another. Your blood turns to molten heat, and you lean in, chasing his lips when he slowly straightens.

After you enjoy your dinner, the slow and soft tunes of music drift from the stage set up to the side and Javi holds out his hand.

“Would you dance with me?” he asks.

You take his hand and let him draw you out of your seat and lead you \ to the open expanse of sand. His big palm feels like fire on your lower back, and he tucks your hand against his chest, pressing his cheek to yours as he moves you around slowly.

After a few quiet moments you pulls back, looking at your mouth.

“My instinct is to kiss you now.”

“That’s certainly what a married couple would do,” you whisper.

He sends one hand along the curve of your spine, tracing every inch until it’s over your shoulder and higher, where he cups the side of your neck with his big, warm hand. His eyes fall closed, and he leans in, pressing his mouth to yours.

Slow, deliberate kisses, Chaste, because you’re out in the middle of the dance floor but still so intentional, so claiming, so thorough you feel the sweet exploration in your fingertips and spine, in your chest and your stomach and between your legs.

The song comes to an end, and he pulls away, searching your expression before softly taking your hand and leading you back to your table but instead walks past it toward the darkened water.

The moon reflects a million overlapping crescents across the rippling surface of the ocean and the sky is blanketed with stars. You stop, hand in hand, and take it all in.

“This place really is beautiful. It’s so easy to believe we’re just here to enjoy it all.”

He nods, his eyes trained on you instead of the scene in front of him. Wrapping his arms around our waist he pulls you close then slides one hand down your stomach, hooking a finger under the hem of your dress and coaxing it higher up your thighs.

He reaches your hip, his eyes still trained on you and his voice pained when he says, “you’re not wearing any underwear.”

“Everything showed. I hate lines and didn’t have a thong with me.”

“You drive me crazy,” he says, kissing along your shoulder. “I’m distracted and I shouldn’t be. This was all supposed to be a ruse, but I can’t pretend anymore.”

His fingers trail back up your spine, reaching the strap of your dress and drawing it off one shoulder, kissing the skin there.

“I was never pretending,” he murmurs.

“Javi.”

Your sharp inhale is swallowed by his kiss. It doesn’t last long enough, and he rests his forehead to yours, his lips teasing, his nose brushing yours.

“I can’t stop,” he groans. “I need to feel you.”

You chase his lips, and he kisses you again but pulls away.

“But we can’t. Not now angel.”

You nod but pull his mouth to yours again, kissing him hungrily, whispering the truth.

“I want you Javi.”

“You can have me angel,” he says. “I’m all yours. But we have a job to finish first. I can’t risk putting you in anymore danger.”

With a breathless “ok,” you tug free of his grasp and straighten your dress. As you start to head back toward the restaurant he grabs your hand and drags you into his chest.

“Promise me,” he says between kisses, “you’ll be safe…you’ll follow orders.”

“Orders?” you ask with a raised brow. “I probably shouldn’t like that you said that but fine. And what about you Javi? I need you to be careful too.”

“I promise,” he whispers. “I’m going to finish this so I can take you home and make you mine. The right way.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal narcos #pedro pascal characters #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena x you #pedro pasca x reader #javier pena narcos #javier peña x you #fake dating #fake marriage #friends to lovers

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prettyfilmz · 20 hours ago

Text

CHAIN REACTION • JEY USO

author's note: i'm baaaaaack!!! I am officially done with finals which means the creative juices are flowing through the roof currently. all I gotta say about this fic right here is...yes I was indeed the one who gave jey's fine ass that 'yeet' chain he wore on that one episode of RAW and yes he does smell good as hell😫

synopsis: in which nyx had no idea how much her life would change with one gift to her favorite wrestler.

tags: 18+ (MDNI), jey uso x black fem oc, fluff, overstimulation, hotel sex, foreplay, spanking, oral ( fem receiving. ), size difference, daddy kink, sub / dom, drinking, unprotected sex, squirting, anal play (thumb in butt), pet names ( baby girl, honey, mama ), rough sex, praise kink.

word count: 3k words..yeah this is a big one y'all

nyx sat on the edge of her bed, scrolling through instagram on her phone. her thumb hovered over a post from wwe’s official account, featuring jey uso cutting a promo backstage at tonight’s show. but what caught her attention wasn’t just how fine he looks—it was the sparkling, silver "YEET" chain resting against his inked chest, gleaming under the fluorescent lights of the promo setup.

her chain.

the one she’d nervously gifted to him at Fanatics Fest weeks ago, after waiting in line with a pounding heart and a stomach full of butterflies. he had grinned from ear to ear when she handed it to him, thanking her with so much warmth that her knees nearly buckled. now, seeing it on him as he spoke into the camera, shouting her out by calling her his “homegirl” paired with a sleek black Nike tracksuit that clung to his broad chest, had her swooning.

her phone pinged in her hand, snapping her out of her thoughts. as if she wasn’t already on cloud nine, it was a message request from none other than jey. her breath hitched as she opened it.

@uceyjucey: yo, mama, I had to find you after you blessed me with this chain. lookin’ fresh, huh? *sends attachment*

attached was a photo of him in the chain, smirking at the camera, lips slightly parted in a way that made nyx’s thighs clench together.

she blinked, rereading the message several times, before typing back with trembling fingers.

@nyx.xoxo: you’re welcome 🥹 It looks amazing on you, just like I thought it would.

he replied almost immediately, the three typing dots appearing before she could even close the app.

@uceyjucey: that’s ‘cause you got good taste, ma. you from the big apple?

@nyx.xoxo: born and raised!

@uceyjucey: that’s wassup. we in your city tonight. lemme thank you properly.

her heart raced as she read his words, the casual yet suggestive tone making her head spin. was he flirting with her? she couldn’t tell, but before she could overthink it, he sent another message.

@uceyjucey: pull up to the hilton on 34th. i’ll pour us somethin’ bubbly.

♡

the click of nyx’s heels echoed down the quiet hallway of the hilton as she approached jey’s door. her reflection caught in a mirror on the wall, and she quickly adjusted her dress, a form-fitting black number that hugged her curves in all the right places. her curls were styled to perfection, framing her beautiful face. she clutched her purse tightly, nerves bubbling under her skin.

when she knocked, the door opened a few moments later. jey stood there, leaning against the frame like a damn vision. the tracksuit was gone, replaced by a white tank that stretched across his chest revealing the tribal ink that decorated his arms and chest, and a pair of gray sweatpants that sat low on his hips. his chain still hung proudly around his neck, and he wore a boyish grin that made her stomach flip.

“damn,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he let his eyes wander over her. “you clean up nice, baby girl.” he mused.

nyx could feel her cheeks heating up as she stepped inside. his suite was spacious but cozy, which put her nerves at ease.

she moved towards him, every step feeling heavier as his presence filled the room. when she was close enough, his hands found her waist, pulling her in gently but firmly. he smelled so damn good—a mix of sandalwood with a hint of amber.

“you nervous?” he asked, his lips curving into that devastating grin that made her stomach flip.

nyx bit her lip, nodding slightly. “a little.”

jey chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “ain’t no need for that, mama. I got you.”

his hands slid down to her hips, his thumbs brushing the curve of her ass as he pulled her closer. “you want some champagne first? or we gon’ skip straight to what we both know we here for?”

the heat in his eyes made her thighs clench, but she managed to smirk. “you offering me a drink to calm my nerves or to get me tipsy?”

jey tilted his head, his grin widening. “maybe a lil’ of both.”

he guided her toward the small table by the window, where a bottle of champagne rested in a bucket of ice, two flutes sitting beside it. nyx perched on the edge of the chair as jey popped the bottle with practiced ease, pouring the golden liquid with a smooth confidence that had her transfixed.

he handed her a glass, their fingers brushing as she took it. “to you,” he said, raising his glass. “for that fire ass chain—and for comin’ all this way to see me.”

nyx’s cheeks warmed as they clinked glasses, the bubbles tickling her nose as she sipped. the champagne was crisp, and after a few sips, a soft warmth began spreading through her body, taking the edge off her nerves.

jey leaned back against the table, his eyes never leaving her. “you know I been thinkin’ about you since that convention, right?”

she looked up at him, surprised. “really?”

“hell yeah,” he said, setting his glass down and crossing his arms, the motion making his biceps strain against the fabric of his tee. “ain’t every day somebody does somethin’ like that for me. and then to see how fine you looked in person? shit. you had me hooked.”

nyx bit her lip, her heart racing. “I didn’t think you’d even remember me honestly.”

jey laughed, stepping closer until he was towering over her. “how could I forget you, mama?” He tilted her chin up with a finger, his gaze locking with hers. “you been on my mind nonstop.”

the air between them thickened, the champagne coursing through her veins making everything feel a little lighter, a little hazier. jey leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was soft but deliberate, testing the waters. when she kissed him back, he deepened it, his tongue sliding against hers in a slow, deliberate rhythm that made her toes curl.

“I knew you would taste sweet,” he murmured against her lips, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs, pulling her up out of the chair and against him.

nyx gasped as her body pressed flush to his, the hardness of his arousal pressing into her stomach. jey grinned, nipping at her bottom lip. “you feel it, don’t you?”

she nodded, her breath coming in shallow gasps as his hands roamed her curves, sliding up her back to unzip her dress. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her in just her lace bra and panties.

“damn, baby girl,” he murmured, his voice husky as he pressed a kiss to her jaw, trailing it slowly down her neck. “you’re somethin’ else. you know that?”

nyx bit her lip, her heart fluttering at the way he looked at her—like she was the only thing in the world worth his attention. “you’re just saying that,” she said softly, though the warmth in her chest betrayed her.

jey pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his expression softening as his thumb brushed across her cheek. “nah,” he said, his tone firm. “ain’t nothin’ about this fake, honey. you’re gorgeous. all of you.”

her cheeks burned under his gaze, but before she could respond, jey dipped his head again, his lips brushing hers in a kiss so tender it made her ache. he laid her down on the plush bed, his hands slipped beneath her lace bra, palming her full breasts with a reverence that sent heat pooling between her thighs. when his thumbs brushed her sensitive nipples, she gasped, arching into his touch.

“sensitive, huh?” he teased, his grin widening as he undid her bra, tossing it aside. his lips found her breasts next, kissing and nipping his way across her soft brown skin before taking a nipple into his mouth. the wet warmth of his tongue combined with the gentle scrape of his teeth had her squirming beneath him, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“jey,” she breathed, her voice barely more than a whimper.

he hummed in response, his free hand trailing down her stomach, over the curve of her hips, before slipping beneath the waistband of her panties. when his fingers found her, he groaned low in his throat, his eyes darkening as he felt how wet she was for him.

“shit, ma,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “you’re so fuckin’ wet.”

nyx’s face burned at his words, but the embarrassment quickly melted into pleasure as he began to stroke her, his fingers sliding through her slick folds with practiced ease. his thumb brushed her clit in slow, deliberate circles, and she moaned, her hips bucking against his hand.

“that’s it, baby girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear as he worked her. “lemme hear you. don’t hold back on me.”

she didn’t. the sounds spilling from her lips were shameless, each one spurring jey on as he explored her body with the kind of focus that left her trembling. when he slipped a finger inside her, curling it just right, she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders.

“fuck, jey,” she gasped, her chest heaving as he added a second finger, stretching her in a way that made her toes curl.

“you’re so tight,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “you’re gonna feel so good wrapped around me, baby. can’t fuckin’ wait.”

the promise in his words sent her over the edge. her body tensed, her thighs trembling as her orgasm crashed over her, a broken moan tearing from her throat as she spewed a few broken curse words. jey didn’t stop, his fingers coaxing her through the aftershocks until she was panting, her body limp in his hold.

“good girl,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. “you’re so fuckin’ perfect.”

before she could catch her breath, jey slid down her body, kissing his way across her stomach until he was settled between her thighs. he hooked his arms around her legs, holding her open as he stared down at her with a hunger that made her shiver.

“jey…” she started, her voice shaky.

he looked up at her, his grin both wicked and reassuring. “relax, baby. daddy just wants a taste.”

and then his mouth was on her.

nyx’s head fell back against the pillows, her hands fisting in the sheets as jey worked her pussy with his tongue. he was slow and deliberate, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of her, teasing her clit with featherlight flicks before sucking it gently into his mouth.

“oh my god,” she moaned, her thighs shaking as he pushed her closer to the edge once again.

jey groaned against her, the vibration sending a fresh wave of pleasure through her. “you taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” he muttered, his voice muffled. “could eat this pussy all night.”

his fingers joined his mouth, sliding back inside her as he continued to devour her, and it wasn’t long before she was crying out his name again, her body trembling as another orgasm ripped through her.

“j-jey, I c-can’t—” she started tapping his shoulder, her voice breaking as he kept going, his mouth and fingers relentless.

“yes, you can,” he murmured, his voice firm but soothing. “one more, baby girl. give me one more.”

she didn’t think she had it in her, but jey didn’t give her a choice. his thumb brushed her clit as he pressed his tongue against her tight hole, the combination sent her over the edge once more, her body shaking as she gushed into his mouth.

when she finally opened her eyes, jey was hovering over her again, his lips glistening as he grinned down at her.

“you okay, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice soft.

nyx nodded, her chest still heaving as she reached up to pull him down for a kiss. “I’m okay,” she murmured against his lips.

jey chuckled, his hands trailing down her sides. “good. ‘cause I ain’t done yet.”

nyx’s shaking thighs clenched at his words, her breath catching as jey’s large, rough hands gripped her thighs, spreading her open again beneath him.

jey leaned back just enough to peel off his shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. her eyes roamed his torso, taking in every curve of muscle and tribal art that painted his skin. he looked down at her with a lazy, almost predatory grin, his confidence radiating from every inch of him.

“see somethin’ you like, baby girl?” he teased, his hands sliding down to hook his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats.

nyx nodded, her voice temporarily failing her. the sight of him, combined with the lingering sensitivity of her body, left her feeling shy but burning with anticipation.

jey stepped out of his sweats, his dick hard and heavy slapping lightly against his stomach, the sheer size of him making her stomach flip. he stroked himself slowly, his eyes never leaving hers as he settled back onto the bed between her thighs.

“don’t look so scared, mama,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “you handled me just fine earlier. you can do it again.”

nyx bit her lip, a nervous laugh escaping her. “you’re so sure of yourself,” she muttered, though the warmth in her tone betrayed her.

“and you love it,” Jey shot back, leaning down to kiss her again. his hand trailed up her thigh. “now relax for me. I’m gonna take my time with you.”

he lined himself up, the thick head of his length brushing against her entrance. nyx gasped, eyes rolling to the back of her head, her hands gripping his forearms as he pushed into her slowly, stretching her inch by inch.

“shit, baby,” he groaned, his jaw clenching as he sank deeper. “you feel so fuckin’ good. your pussy is so damn tight.”

nyx whimpered beneath him, her body trembling as he filled her completely. the stretch was intense, but the way he kissed her, his lips soft and reassuring against hers, made it easier to take.

“you good?” he asked, his voice gentle as he stilled, giving her time to adjust.

she nodded, her nails digging into his shoulders. “yeah,” she whispered. “feels so good…”

his grin returned, his confidence flaring as he pulled back slightly before sinking into her again, his movements slow and deliberate. “that’s my girl,” he murmured. “take me in baby.”

he started to move, his thrusts deep and steady, each one sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her. nyx’s head fell back against the pillows, her moans filling the room as jey set a rhythm that had her toes curling.

“fuck, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his hands gripping her hips as he began to pick up the pace. “this pussy was made for me, baby. you hear me?”

“yes, daddy” nyx gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as he buried his face in her neck, sucking and biting at her skin. the mix of pain and pleasure made her head spin, her body arching into him as he fucked into her deeper, pressing against all the spots that made her see stars.

“you’re mine tonight, mama,” he growled, his voice thick with possession. “ain’t nobody else gonna make you feel like this.”

he shifted her legs, hooking one over his shoulder to get even deeper, and the new angle had nyx crying out, her nails raking down his back.

“that’s it, baby girl,” jey groaned, his hand sliding up her body to wrap around her throat. he applied just enough pressure to make her head spin, his thumb brushing her jaw as his eyes locked onto hers. “you look so fuckin’ pretty like this.”

nyx whimpered, her body trembling beneath him as she teetered on the edge of another orgasm. “jey, daddy I’m gonna—”

“do it,” he urged, his voice low and commanding. “cum for me, baby. show daddy how good I make you feel.”

his words pushed her over the edge, her body clenching around him as she gushed around him once again, leaving her trembling and breathless.

but jey wasn’t done. he grabbed her hips, flipping her onto her stomach before pulling her onto all fours. “we’re not done yet, baby girl,” he said, his voice dripping with hunger as he lined himself up again.

the first thrust had her crying out, her body still sensitive from her climax. jey groaned, his hands gripping her waist as he fucked her harder now, the sound of skin on skin filling the room.

“look at you,” he muttered, his hand coming down on her ass with a sharp smack that made her gasp. “takin’ me so good, baby girl.”

nyx buried her face in the pillows, her moans muffled as jey drove her closer to the edge once again. his thumb slid down, teasing her puckered hole, and when he pressed it in just slightly, the sensation alone made her cum once again.

“shit, baby,” Jey groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “that’s it, that’s my good girl, give me that shit.”

when he finally came, it was with a low, guttural groan, his hips stuttering as he spilled his load into her. he stayed there for a moment, both of them catching their breath before he pulled out carefully, rolling onto his back and pulling her into his arms.

nyx plopped her head on his chest, her body still trembling as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. jey kissed the top of her head, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back.

“you good, baby girl?” he asked softly.

she nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “yeah. that was fun.”

“good,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “’cause you’re stayin’ right here with me tonight.”

and with that, nyx let herself relax completely. boy does she have a story to tell her friends soon.

taglist: @bebesobrielo @zillasvilla @harmshake @amandairene88 @blacst4r @skyesthebomb @cyberdejos2 @4milly @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @bloodlinesbabe93 @punksyeet @xbriexx @li-da-savage @partypoison00

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#jey uso x reader #wwe smut #jey uso smut #wwe imagines #jey uso imagine #jey uso fanfic #jey uso one shot #jey uso fluff #jey uso fic #the bloodline x reader

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ofstarsandvibranium · 2 days ago

Text

Meet & Greet

Fandom: Stranger Things (Gamer/Streamer/Modern AU)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: Your collab stream with Eddie was a success! You thought afterwards, communication between you two would dwindle, but it didn't. You kept inviting each other to play games on stream, you two were constantly messaging each other off screen. You two became great friends so quickly. But both of your communities definitely think you two should be more than just friends. Based off my imagine here.

Pog Champ | Thanks for the Raid!

Eddie Munson Masterlist

The closer Twitch Con was, the more nervous you became. Not only were you going to have your own Meet and Greet, but you were also going to be meeting Eddie for the first time.

For months now, you and Eddie have messaged each other. You've played several games with each other on stream, he's even invited you to his new D&D campaign with his other friends. You've woven yourselves into each other's lives and you don't even know how you could continue your day without your daily dose of Eddie.

You've definitely developed feelings for him and for several months, you've been keeping it in. However, you don't know how much longer you could keep it in. But then again, you're meeting him for the first time and you don't want to put him off.

UGH! Why are feelings so difficult?!

__________________________

For Twitch Con, Eddie is rooming with his friend and mod, Dustin, at the hotel. As he's unpacking his clothes, Dustin is chilling on his bed.

"So...you're meeting Cat."

"Yeah, and?" Eddie asks as he hangs up his jacket in the closet.

"You nervous?"

He scoffs, "No! Why would I be nervous?"

Dustin rolls his eyes, "'Cause you fucking like her."

"No, I don't! How many times do I have to tell you-"

"Eddie, man, c'mon. Stop bullshitting me here. It's just us." Dustin stands from his bed and approaches Eddie. He places his hands on his shoulders, "Eddie-"

"Don't touch me."

"Sorry," Dustin immediately drops his hands and clears his throat, "Eddie, tell me the truth: do you like Cat?"

Eddie gulps, "Y-Yeah. But I can't tell her that! Especially not this weekend. We're meeting for the first time and I don't want to overwhelm her. She's already got a lot on her plate this weekend. I don't want to add to it."

Dustin shakes his head, "How are you older than me but you're acting like such a pussy!"

Eddie narrows his eyes at the younger man, "Shut up," he pushes Dustin back and he falls onto the bed.

___________________

Your assistant, Suzie, accompanied you to Twitch Con. You and she shared a hotel room and she was also partially your bodyguard. She may seem harmless, but she could definitely assert herself.

Day one was here and she walks beside you after you two enter the convention hall. You decided to do an IRL stream for the first day to ease your nerves. Having chat there made you feel a little less lonely.

"Hi guys! It's Twitch Con Day One! I'll be walking around the convention with Suzie today. So if you're around, say hi!" Suzie follows you with the phone attached to a handheld tripod, connected to a portable charger.

While you walk around, you have your own phone to look at chat. You and Suzie respond to any questions.

"Am I here all three days? Yup! I'll be here! Today I'm just checking out the booths and the vendors."

DreamerHorizon: whens your meet and greet?

"Tomorrow at 2pm! Suzie and I are gonna go check out the meet and greet area so I know where to go. But I hope to see some of you there!"

EchoKnight: i'll be there!

"Yay! Can't wait to meet you, Echo!"

PuckYouLol: you're meeting Eddie right?

"Hopefully! I'm not sure what his schedule is looking like, but I told him to swing by my table tomorrow if I don't see him today! I'm hoping I can see my other streamer friends too!"

As you walk through the hall, you stop at different booths. Several sponsor booths as well as Artist Alley where several small businesses and artists sold their game related merchandise.

"Guys, look at this crocheted Among Us character! And the pink one has cat ears! I think I'm gonna get it. Remember I used to use this exact character during the Among Us era? Good times!" Suzie focuses the camera on you as you pay. You grab a a business card of the artists and show the camera, "Check out their shop if you want some cute crochet plushies!"

Eddie spots you in artist alley and he's frozen in place. You're with a friend and it seems you're streaming.

"Dude, go up to her." Mike, one of Eddie's other friends and mods, nudges him. His girlfriend El, by his side.

Eddie gulps and shakes his head, "Nah. She's busy streaming. I-I really shouldn't bother her."

Mike rolls his eyes and El shakes her in disappointment, "You're not gonna chicken out tomorrow for her meet and greet are you?"

He shrugs, "Don't know. I wanna meet her, but, I mean," he holds his arms out, "Look at me. There's no way she'll wanna meet me in person right?"

Dustin snorts and leans in to Mike, "Told you he'd be a pussy."

The oldest of them smacks down Dustin's hat, "And I told you, Henderson, to shut the fuck up. Now come on, let's keep walking around." He pulls his friends along, further away from you.

He wants to meet you, truly, he does. He doesn't want to admit it, but Eddie is scared and insecure. He's afraid of the thought of you rejecting him. He doesn't want to experience the same feeling he's felt a lot of his life. The feeling of no one wanting him around, everyone thinking him as a freak.

A large majority of his mind and heart knows you aren't like those people back in his hometown. You're kind, smart, funny, and treat everyone you meet with kindness.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he'll pluck up the courage go meet you in person.

____________________

EddieTheBanished: good morning, miss big time streamer!

CyberCat: I'm not a big time streamer!

EddieTheBanished: says the one who has a meet and greet table!

CyberCat: i'm so fucking nervous for today...

EddieTheBanished: You'll be fine! People will be showing up!

CyberCat: I'm so nervous I don't think I can eat anything.

EddieTheBanished: you should definitely eat something. don't want you passing out or anything.

CyberCat: fiiiiine.

"Eddie, stop texting your girlfriend and start getting ready!" Dustin tosses a pillow at Eddie.

"She's not my girlfriend!" Eddie exclaims, throwing the pillow back at the younger man.

"Right. You need to have enough balls to ask her to be your girlfriend to call her your girlfriend!" The pillow gets thrown back at Eddie and Dustin rushes into the bathroom right as the pillow hits the door as it slams shut.

________________________

You kind of regret going to that Twitch Party last night. You had one too many shots of...something and you woke up hungover. Not an ideal feeling considering you were probably going to meet a good amount of people today.

Luckily, Suzie had ordered room service for the both you and you had a hearty meal, despite your stomach telling you it needs to do everything but eat.

Afterwards, you made up your face, doing your best not to appear hungover, which included taking some painkillers.

It was noon by the time 1:15 pm by the time you got to the convention. In 45 minutes, you'll be having your meet and greet.

From what you understood, the meet and greets were still going by the lottery system. So hopefully the people who attend your meet and greet are actual fans and not people who chose you as a backup. Apparently that's been an issue for the past few cons and that added to your list of anxieties leading up to today.

Suzie holds your hand tightly as you go to the streamer lounge. There you meet one of the con representatives that walks you through the process of the meet and greet.

You keep your eyes on him while he escorts you towards the meet and greet area. He explains the process, things you can and can't do, as well as that there will be a security guard nearby in case anything were to happen. You were really hoping nothing bad would.

You peeked out from behind the curtain to see the line that formed to meet you. You're in shock to see that many people.

"Hi, Cat!" some people exclaim, spotting you from behind the curtain.

You smile widely, waving at them, "Hi! I'll see you guys soon! Thanks for coming!" the group cheers and you let the curtain fall back. Suzie looks at you with a grin, "See! People showed up!"

"Yeah, they did," you respond with a smile on your face.

_________________________

"Woah. That's a lot of people," Gareth says as he spots the line to meet you.

A big smile appears on his face to see the amount of people that showed up for you, "I told her people would come." He cranes his neck to see you beyond the crowd. You're engaged in a conversation with two guys. You're nodding and smiling as they say something to you, and respond back.

Afterwards, they hand a phone to a young woman who takes a picture of the three of you. You thank the two men and wave them good-bye. You excuse yourself for some water. As you're quickly chugging down, you spot him: Eddie.

Your eyes widen and you gulp. You slam your water bottle onto the table and squeal, "EDDIE!" You apologize and excuse yourself from the next person in line to rush over to him.

"Oh shit, she's coming this way!" Mike says and Eddie quips, "Everyone be cool!"

You're not sure what comes over you, but you run to Eddie and throw your arms around him, "It's so nice to finally meet you in person!" you exclaim.

A few people in line record you and take pictures of you since you're closer to him.

Eddie's words get caught in his throat. His cheeks start to heat up and he begins to stutter, "I-Uh-You-" he pauses to clear his throat, "Hi." He doesn't know how, but you're so much prettier in person. He didn't think it was possible to be even prettier.

“Ye-Yeah. Um, hey. It’s uh, uh good to meet you too.”

Dustin, Mike, and Gareth, are snickering at him, while El is smirking.

You think it’s adorable though. You take him by the chin, lowering his head down a bit more. You stare into Eddie’s eyes and smirk, “You’re wrong by the way.”

“About?” He asks in sudden confusion.

“Your eyes do kind of sparkle.” You giggle and take a step back, "Thanks for coming. Did you guys want to hang by my table?"

Dustin opens his mouth to accept but Eddie beats him to it, "It's okay! We should let you do your thing."

You pout a bit and Eddie swears it's the cutest thing he's ever seen, "You sure? It wouldn't be an issue! You guys can even hang behind the curtain to wait for me?"

He shakes his head, "We're sure. You're busy and we should let you get to it."

Your shoulders sag a bit, "Okay," you say dejectedly, “I’ll message you after this and maybe we can walk around the convention together?

Eddie nods, "Sound good!” He gives you a thumbs up and then cringes because why the hell did he do that? That’s so lame!

You chuckle and give him a thumbs up back, "Cool. See you later!" you give him a wave and head back to the table. You apologize again to the people waiting for you and gesture for the next person to come up.

Eddie's frozen in place, watching you speak to every person that approaches you. Gareth nudges him, "Smooth, dude."

Eddie scowls, "Shut up," and pushes him forward, "Let's go wander."

"You're telling me you don't wanna creepily watch her from her afar?" Mike asks, causing Dustin and Gareth to snicker.

"Mike, leave him alone. Come on," El tugs his hand and leads him away. El gives Eddie a nod and he nods back in thanks.

He glances back at you and as if knowing he was looking, you look up and stare right back at him. You smile and nod at him before bringing your attention back to the person in front of you.

Eddie gulps and rubs his hand over his chest, trying to soothe his fast beating heart.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #gamer!eddie munson #streamer!eddie munson

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misseviehyde · 1 day ago

Text

SIMONE SAYS

You wanted to stop your boyfriend. You wanted to end this right now, but Simone had said you had to sit quietly with the ballgag in, so that's what you were doing.

He looked exactly like her now... that bitch in the mirror. You kept telling yourself she wasn't real, that this was just a game that had gotten out of hand... but the fact your boyfriend was now almost a physical copy of your imaginary friend suggested this was more than some prank. Somehow this WAS real.

She pulled the satin pants into place and reached down for the final item of clothing...

In moments there would only be Simone.

How had this all started? Well it was all your fault.

You'd always had an imaginary friend called Simone that you blamed for everything naughty you ever did growing up. A play on 'Simon says' anytime you'd ever gotten into trouble you told people Simone had told you to do it.

When you'd gotten older, it had continued. Simone got the blame for telling you to cheat on guys, be horrible to people at work and act like a bitch. If anything it was a fun game that gave you license to do whatever the fuck you wanted.

In time it even began to make you act worse. Imagine what Simone would do in this situation... how bad and evil she would act. It made you actually come up with nasty ideas and thoughts.

Your imaginary friend was the most evil, sex obsessed cruel bitch imaginable. And then you'd got your boyfriend involved too.

You'd told Gary about Simone when you'd first met - as a kind of joke. But then he'd told you it kind of turned him on when you did things she would do. So you went along with it.

Simone appatantly told you to suck his dick in public, send him nude photos at work and then even stick your finger up his ass when you were fucking. Gary loved to play 'Simone says' the rules were you had to do whatever she told you.

But then things got weird. You began seeing a beautiful woman in every mirror you passed and so did he. The two of you were astounded to find out that somehow Simone was becoming real.

Now whenever you passed a mirror her evil whispers would fill your mind and make you do things. At first you thought you were just losing your minds - but then you began to see there was more to it.

Your imaginary friend had somehow become real and was now reaching across the mirror dimension trying to get into the real world.

Simone was coming to life and she was hungry for a body. Your body.

The two of you smashed every mirror in the house and tried to escape. Maybe if you ran far enough you could escape her.

You realised your mistake when you walked into the hotel room with its huge bathroom mirror and saw Simone smirking at you.

"Simone says Gary... become me."

You realised then that it wasn't you she wanted to possess but him. As you watched him begin to put on your clothes, he started to change.

"Mmmmmh I feel so fucking good," moaned Gary as his bones shifted and his reflection began to resemble the smirking bitch in the mirror.

With each item of clothing he put on, his change into her accelerated and you watched your imaginary friend being born in the real world. The girl in the mirror laughed and exulted, her actions freakily different to the woman in front of it.

Breasts grew, hips widened, hair lengthened, skin tanned. A beautiful woman was being born and she was loving every second of it as the image in the mirror began to fade. Simon was newly real and the mirror could no longer contain her.

As Gary slid on a blouse his body finished transforming and Simone finished touching up her makeup. The mirror shimmered and suddenly cracked then Simone's ntoken reflection returned... only now just a normal reflection of a real woman. Gary was totally gone.

"Well loser, it's done. I'm finally in your world. Mmmmmh all those naughty things you've blamed me for over the years... well I can't wait to ACTUALLY do all of them.

Simone giggled as she advanced and rooting around in your suitcase found a butt plug.

"Why don't we start with a little BDSM? Simone says bend over."

As you assumed the position, you wish you'd never invented such a fucking bitch...

#evie hyde #bitchification #m2f transformation #mirror #imaginary friend #possessed #corrupted

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ghostgirl-22 · 2 days ago

Note

art accidentally calling patrick daddy while they jerk off together… !!!!!!!!!!

Oh anon he’s a mess <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Daddy!kink obvs don’t read it if that freaks you out

—-

They get home late from a frat party on a random Saturday night. Tashi’s cousin is in town so Patrick’s sleeping over in Art’s dorm room. Art is much drunker than he is. Patrick had to guide him back to his room. Use the keys and unlock his door. His roommate is surprisingly still not home when they get there which is probably good. Art’s a flirty drunk, all flushed and giggly. It’s actually adorable, except Patrick is so attracted to him it always makes him feel a little crazy.

He’s playful as Patrick convinces him to change into something he would feel comfortable sleeping in. “You just wanna see me naked,” Art hiccups grinning when Patrick suggests that jeans aren’t the most comfortable sleeping attire. He manages to stumble out of his jeans and he’s just wearing boxers and the t-shirt he had on under the hoodie he wore out. Then he falls into his extras long single bed and settles on his side, hugging his pillow and pulling his knees up so his ass is protruding into the bit of space left for Patrick. Patrick watches him for a minute, adjusting himself for the way his cock is stiffening.

It’s a miracle Patrick finds a way to fit without spooning him. He lays on his back, half his body balancing in midair.

He’s still awake, drunk and now horny, Art’s bottom pressed against him. He starts flipping channels and when it lands on some random episode of Nip/Tuck he slips his hands inside his boxers and starts touching himself through one of the made for cable sex scenes.

“Mm, Patrick,” Art’s sleepy voice sounds and he wiggles, Patrick pauses for a millisecond, he thought Art had fallen asleep by now.

“Hm?” Patrick replies. Just in case he’s talking in his sleep. It’s not his usual thing, but it’s not unheard of.

Art rolls over on the small bed to look at the television. “Whatcha doing?” He hiccups.

“Mm, nothing. I’m in my head. Tashi was wearing those tight jeans all night so I’m a little, backed up.” Patrick lies, he actually hooked up with Tashi at the party, peeled those tight jeans off of her. This is all because of Art. And it’s been forever since he did this in front of Art, let alone in the same bed but it’s Art’s fault actually. His ass really doesn’t have to be so perky and firm.

”Mm, yeah, she’s so hot,” Art sighs. And before Patrick realizes what’s happening it’s like they’re in high school again, and Art’s got his hand on his own dick, touching himself too.

Patrick sighs, his mind now focusing less on the cable sex scene and more on the little soft noises Art’s making. It’s right in Patrick’s ear, the way he’s positioned on his side. Patrick thinks more than once about grabbing him, helping him. “You ever think about that night in the hotel with Tashi.” Patrick whispers, he used to talk Art through it and figures he might as well do it again since they’re practically on top of each other.

“Yeah,” Art moans.

”I think about… about…kissing you.”

Art lets out a soft sigh. “Yeah?”

”Mmhm. Sometimes it makes my dick hard.”

“Like now?” he’s so close to Patrick. The way he’s breathing, the feel of it light on Patrick’s shoulder, in his ear, the way he sounds. Patrick knows he’s not much longer for the world. And that’s when it happens.

“Yeah,” Patrick says. “Just like now, you’re making me fucking hard, baby. You getting drunk and falling all over me, flirting all night. Makes me feel like you want me.”

”Mm you like it, daddy? I think I’m gonna come,” Art whines, his voice is all syrupy and sweet like honey.

And Patrick just falls apart.

”Oh…oh fuck,” he gasps, his body stilting and suddenly he’s jerking haphazardly as strings of liquid shoot out of his dick onto the bed and everywhere. For a minute he thinks he’s gonna hit the television a few feet away for the force of it.

It’s nothing. Should mean nothing but that word, the way Art sounded when he said it. The way he’s squirming in bed. Patrick wants to… he needs to fuck him into the mattress.

“Holy shit, you made a mess,” Art’s giggling. He probably doesn’t even fucking realize he said it.

Patrick is breathless, he reaches for Art, gripping at his cock, his hands wet with his own spend and he starts helping him. Art doesn’t protest, probably too drunk. He just moans and let’s Patrick pump him.

“Did you just call me daddy?” Patrick asks. Just the taste of the word on his tongue is about to coax another round of it out of his dick.

“Hm?” Art hiccups.

“Just now, you fucking called me daddy.”

“I don’t know. Mm sorry, I think I’m drunk.” Art moans.

“Fuck,” Patrick breathes. “You wanna say it again?”

Art hums, moving his hips forward and back as his cock slides slippery between Patrick’s fists. “Say… say daddy?” He asks softly.

“Yes,” Patrick says, it’s actually so delicious in Art’s voice. “Say it again.”

“Daddy I wanna… I wanna… mm daddy please…need to cum please,” Art begins moaning nonsensically.

And Oh Fuck.

Patrick’s gonna lose his mind. He feels his dick again already coming to attention. Like he’s fucking sixteen jerking it every two minutes. “Tell daddy how it feels, baby.” Patrick whispers, “Oh god. Daddy wants to fuck you. Daddy wants to fuck you all fucking night.”

“Mmhm, you can fuck me daddy, fuck me, fuck me please, daddy,” Art says. He begins to lose it then. He’s moaning so loudly Patrick is sure they hear him in the hallway and soon Patrick’s thighs and boxers are getting wet with hot creamy liquid.

“Fuck,” Art groans as he pulls his shorts back up and rolls onto his back, giggling.

“Yeah,” Patrick sighs, crawling on top of him, and pressing himself between Art’s thighs.

“Holy shit,” Art says, recovering pretty quickly from the giggles when he feels it. He reaches up to play with Patrick’s hair. “You’re hard again?”

“Mmhm,” Patrick hums. “Do you realize how fucking hot that is? You saying that. Fuck sweetheart.”

Art pulls him closer and kisses his mouth and Patrick rubs himself along the thin bit of fabric of their shorts, the only thing that’s keeping him out.

“Daddy it feels so… big,” Art sighs against his lips.

“Art I swear Im going to lose my fucking mind,” Patrick breathes and Art smiles.

“Sorry, it’s so…fun.”

And of course that’s when they hear the twist of the lock, it’s his fucking roommate.

“Fuucckk,” Patrick groans as Art sits up, hiccuping.

”Honey I’m home,” the roommate says drunkenly. “Oh forgot you’d be here.” He adds when he sees Patrick in the glow of the tv. Patrick doesn’t really like him. In part because he’s almost certain he has a crush on Art.

“I’m gonna pee,” Art says, climbing out of the bed.

“Yeah sure,” Patrick pouts, rubbing himself idly beneath the blankets, still all messy.

Art smiles and gets closer so he can talk quietly in Patrick’s ear. “Don’t worry, daddy, we can try it when he goes to sleep. I think I can be really quiet.” He whispers, hot breath ghosting over Patrick’s ear lobe, words making him shiver.

Patrick chews his bottom lip, gripping at the sheets. He’s so fucking ready he hopes he can wait til this guy falls asleep. “Mmkay. Fine. Yeah. Lets try.”

(Idk lol. Hope you like it anon <3 I’m out here looking up random “sexy” shows from 2006 I hope y’all appreciate my detailed and thorough research. Probably gonna find a way to watch nip/tuck now✌🏿)

#art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers fic #challengers smut #art x patrick #artrick

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cognitiveoverload · 1 day ago

Text

Craving (Aaron Hotchner x reader? Does it count?)

summary: Hotch shows up in your hotel room after the events of 2x19.

note: Kinda pathetic!Hotch if you ask me. Wants to be with reader despite still being married, but she says no.

After emotionally draining cases you’re usually a heavy sleeper, so no wonder you only wake up when the mattress dips in the hotel room you’re staying in. You jolt awake, eyes snapping open to see who got in the bed on the empty side next to you, and you’re shocked to see the man who wraps an arm around you as if it was the most natural thing, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Hotch, what are you doing here?” you ask, fighting the urge to bury your fingers into his hair to soothe him.

Because he’s clearly under the weather, and his warm breath smells like whisky as he rests his chin on your collar bone to look at you. “I don’t want to be alone,” he mutters.

There has always been tension between you, but he’s married, there was no way you would ever even think of giving into that feeling. Having him here, though, makes you wonder just how deep are his feelings for you. He’s not blackout drunk, he probably only drank like two glasses, but thanks to the vulnerable state of mind he was in earlier, it’s no surprise that it got the best of him.

“How did you even get in?”

He lets out a sigh, then a small smile appears on his lips. “I have my methods,” he replies.

This sentence is followed by a soft sigh, but he remains silent for a minute or two, as if he’s contemplating how to say what’s on his mind. His thumb is rubbing circles into your arm, and while your brain knows you should stop him, you simply can’t get yourself to send him away. He doesn’t want to be alone, and there’s something he wants to talk about.

So, you wait. Rushing him wouldn’t help, and he’s stubborn enough to take his time opening up. Sometimes you wonder if he ever tells Haley about work stuff, or if he keeps it to himself since she has a lot on her plate already because of Jack. Either way, what happened earlier today definitely hit him where it hurt the most.

“It’s my fault,” he finally speaks up, his voice unusually quiet. You tilt your head to the side, urging him to explain. “I should have known, I should have gone there to see if I could help, now there’s a kid without a father and—”

You shook your head without thinking, a hand moving up to push his hair back. “It’s not your fault. You’re not a mind reader, Hotch, you couldn’t have known what he was planning,” you try.

“Aaron.” You let out a questioning hum, but he doesn’t answer, instead he moves a little to place a featherlight kiss on your exposed skin, followed by another, and another at an agonizingly slow pace. “Call me Aaron. I hate it that you call me Hotch too,” he mumbles against your skin.

“You’re my boss, I’m not calling you Aaron,” you point out.

“But we could be so much more than that. You mean so much more to me.”

Before you can say anything, he moves just enough to be able to kiss you—a gentle, soft kiss that feels so good, but also forbidden. You cup his face, pushing him away just enough to look into his eyes. There’s a mixture of sadness and lust in there, but you know you can’t give in, you can’t let him win this one.

Deciding that this is your best chance to set boundaries, you move past him as you sit up, watching the way he turns on his back with a groan. “For one, you’re my boss. And second, you’re married. Keep that in mind,” you warn him.

He loosens his tie and props on his elbows. “Yeah, right, a marriage that’s falling apart,” he notes bitterly. When you give him a questioning look, he goes on. “It seems like no matter how hard I try, I can’t be the husband she wants. This job is demanding, sure, but… I don’t know.”

“You need to sleep,” you tell him kindly, not having the heart to be harsh after what he just told you.

This confession explains the phone calls that always left him grim, but you don’t feel like prying for more details. You know that he loves his family, what he just told you must have come from the desperation caused by the trouble at home and this recent case you just closed. It can’t be more than that.

Hotch opens his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything for now, he just watches you with an unreadable expression. “I’ll have to return to give the letter to Abby’s son. That’s the least I can do,” he suddenly says, lying back down, but he faces you. “Come with me.”

You take a deep breath as you watch him, but then you pick up your phone from the nightstand and put on the robe you left on the foot of the bed. “I’ll beg JJ to let me sleep in her room. Or I’ll take yours since you’re clearly planning to stay here,” you tell him. “I’ll wake you up in the morning.”

“Okay, fine,” he mumbles, his face already buried into the pillow your head rested on a few minutes ago.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x you

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im4rmy · 2 days ago

Text

your first time together - jaemin (idol AU)

IMAGINE: he rents a room in a hotel to have a really nice dinner but your mind is somewhere else.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

• you sighed deeply to gain the strenght that seems to have left your body: you worked your ass off for 12 hours at the hospital where you were doing your specialization. but holy shit were you tired.

• you were used to long shifts, you loved your job and usually even 20 hours of work were easily manageable but today- even getting ready for your date with the most attractive man you ever met in your life was HARD.

• getting all dolled-up and choosing an outfit was one of your favourite activities and the idea of having a fancy dinner in an expensive hotel was great but your body was really struggling rn, in front of the location where jaemin was waiting for you.

• you took the elevator to reach the room jaemin texted you about and sighed again, getting ready to be charming and sexy for him. you liked him a lot tbh but of course you only had a few dates together and you were basically still strangers.

• jaemin opened the door of the room to welcome you in and the bright smile he gave you made your shoulders relax instantly. his presence was really comforting.

• "hi pretty" "hi jaemin, you look very handsome, as always"

• he laughed letting you in (to hide the butterflies that threatened to climb up through his throat) and taking your coat for you. "you're stunning, as always. i'm sorry, i know it looks very suspicious to have dinner in this room rather than the restaurant but-" "oh you don't need to explain, i saw the amount of people that are hanging in the hall. i like it here, it's more quiet"

• he smiled again and guided you to take a seat at the table. you looked around and- that wasn't just a room, it was a suite, with a living room and a kitchen and probably two or more bedrooms.

• the dinner was going on smoothly as always, he was funny and charming. you could listen to him talking all day long without getting tired, but tonight your body was failing you and your legs hurt so much it was distracting.

• "are you okay?"

• you looked up at him and smiled. "of course! um... what were you saying?"

• he didn't answer and looked at you unconvinced, but resumed his discourse nevertheless.

• "omg i'm sorry, hold on a second. i really need to-" you got up abruptly startling him and you shamelessly took off your black heels and exhaled loudly, letting your feet enjoy the freedom.

• jaemin looked at you with wide eyes, shocked by your sudden and weird change of character. you sighed and came back to your seat, giving another bite at your perfectly cooked steak. "you were talking about the shooting. what happened then?"

• he just stared at you for a while, starstrucked. then he tilted his head. "how many hours did you work today?"

• you blinked. "i told you" "i feel like you lied to me tho"

• you held his gaze for a bit, but then you collapsed on the chair and sighed in defeat. "twelve"

• jaemin's eyes widened. "WHAT?" he got on his feet immediately and walked around to stand behind you. when you feel his hands on your bare shoulders you flinch, but relax immediately after.

• "w-what are you doing?" "you need to rest, what the hell were you thinking? i would've never invited you here knowing how tired you are!"

• you know what he means but you decide to tease him, trying to focus while his hands massage your skin and above all... trying not to moan, for god sake. "are you saying that i'm not pretty enough when i'm tired?"

• he laughs loudly and you can't see him but you feel his gorgeous smile shining behind you. and when he leans forward to whisper directly in your ear, you swear your heart flips in excitement.

• "you're truly a menace... i should watch my mouth, don't i?"

• you want to answer but his said mouth finds its spot around your earlobe and every possible word dies in your throat. he continues his journey down your neck until his lips reach your shoulder. and you finally moan.

• "ah, here it is. i'm waiting to hear you like this since we met, baby" "you really need to watch your mouth, pretty boy"

• you grab his head and smash your lips together, he sighs in your mouth and caress your arms, savouring your soft skin with his fingertips. "you're exquisite"

• "you didn't even taste me yet" "omg can i?"

• you see him TREMBLE and the excitement dancing in his eyes makes your mouth and your core water. "help yourself, sweetie"

• he moans just thinking about it and gets on his knees instantly, settling between your legs. he caresses your thighs trying not to drool and he reaches immediately for your panties, taking them off and leaving you in only your short dress.

• he lifts up the hem of it and attacks your core like a starved man, starting to kiss and lick and suck right away. you moan and grab his perfectly styled hair in your fingers, pulling at it.

• "shit" "relax, let me hear your pretty voice"

• jaemin finds himself craving your moans and whimpers: you're very vocal and he happens to love it. but you'll soon find out that he... purrs. every time you touch him properly he purrs. he lets out such low and shameless growls that your thighs clench involuntarily.

• after a few minutes, you're sprawled on the first bed you found with his erection in your hand, his mouth sucking one of your breast and your bodies completely naked on each other.

• between a whimper and a moan, he speaks "you remember that night, when we first met?". you nod.

• "i said that i fell in love with you then. i wasn't lying. i'm in love with you, y/n. i fell on my knees like a dumb kid. you have me wrapped around your finger and i love everything about that"

• you smile and look at the way he's caressing your breasts while he's saying all of these things directly in your face and you're stroking his damn member. you're very sure that this man is one to keep close.

• "then make love to me"

• the look you both exchange is sweet and the kiss after that is the most awesome kiss you'll ever experience in your life. you're sure of that.

• and when your bodies fully interlock you feel your mind melting in the bliss of the moment: jaemin's skin is all over yours and his hands cherish your every curve and line.

• his movements are sharp and rhythmic but slow, he takes care in every gesture, every stroke, every thrust.

• you had sex with different men before (and you can tell he had women in his hands before too) and you enjoyed a lot of good sex, but this hits different: you never felt this intimate with someone, especially because this is your first time together! wtf? but your bodies feel so comfortable interwined together.

• him in you... his eyes looking at you adoringly and lost in all the sensations you're enjoying right now... his hands holding you tight... does it feel amazing? yes. does it feel exciting? yes. but above all... it feels right.

• you reach the climax when he presses your clit with his thumb without stopping his melliflous thrusts. and when your walls clench around him he curses under his breath and cums right away, riding your shared orgasm till the end.

• he sighs and throws himself next to you, pulling you towards him and letting you rest on his broad chest. when you hear his heart beating at an alarming pace you smile and caress his abs.

• "what if i call you every time i have a 12 hours shift?" "how often does that happen?" "every two days" "that's too little, i need to see you at least once a day"

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

masterlist

Taglist: @carelessshootanonymous

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

#nct #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct jaemin #jaemin imagines #na jaemin #jaemin #nct dream jaemin #jaemin fanfic #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #jaemin x y/n

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crushpunky · 1 day ago

Text

a cameron family vacation: a night in

masterlist | kook!reader masterlist

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

The trek back from the coffee shop was uneventful; Sarah and John B disappearing to do god knows what and y/n and Rafe to go on a sort of impromptu sightseeing tour which ultimately resulted in ditching her flimsy sandals a mile from the hotel and Rafe giving her a piggyback ride the last quarter mile. By the time they finally made it back, the sun was already beginning to dip below the treetops, bathing the city in a golden hue.

“Thank you, thank you!” Y/n sang as Rafe finally let her back down to her feet in the hotel room. Rafe straightened out with an exaggerated groan, clawing at his back in faux distress. Y/n hit him playfully before darting into the living room, tossing herself down on the couch with a groan. Rafe followed behind her, sitting down on the couch.

“Finally you guys are back!” Wheezie said from the chair opposite the couch. Y/n turned over at her voice, stretching her legs across Rafe’s lap as she looked at the youngest Cameron. She was still wearing her pajamas, her phone ditched as she also joined y/n on the couch.

“What did you do today?” Y/n asked, propping herself up, her legs still draped over Rafe’s lap, his fingers tracing slowly along the skin of her ankle.

“Nothing! Dad and Rose ditched me to go to some wine tasting class.” Wheezie groaned, sinking further into the couch. Y/n frowned, soothing a hand along Wheezie’s arm. Y/n always saw Wheezie as a little sister, absolutely loathing the way Ward and Rose treated the youngest Cameron.

“That was pretty shitty of them, Wheeze.” Rafe scoffed. Y/n whipped around to him, her expression stern at his language. Despite Wheezie being a teenager and most definitely hearing worse on a daily basis, she still saw her as the little sister she met so many years ago.

“Well… how about we go down to the market down the street and grab some stuff for dinner? We can cook a nice dinner just for the three of us, how’s that sound?” Y/n suggested, Wheezie nodding enthusiastically at the idea. Being the type of rich the Camerons were, it wasn’t too often they had a meal that wasn’t cooked by a private chef with the finest of ingredients. With a grin, y/n pushed her legs off Rafe's lap and grabbed her purse off the kitchen island. Wheezie got up quickly, taking a step to follow y/n before Rafe grabbed her arm with a groan.

“Help me up.” Rafe complained, as Wheezie rolled her eyes. She tugged at his arm, the boy not moving an inch, a shit eating grin on his face.

“You’re too big, old man.” Wheezie groaned, trying to pull Rafe up again. This time he got to his feet, stumbling dramatically into Wheezie who elbowed him in the ribs. Y/n giggled at the siblings.

“Ok, Wheeze, what’re you thinking?” Y/n asked as Wheezie slid her shoes on. Rafe followed, sliding on his sandals from before.

“I don’t know… what’s easy to make?” Wheezie shrugged.

“Spaghetti?” Y/n asked, quirking her brow.

“Sounds good.” Wheezie grinned, and the three of them made their way down to the market to gather their ingredients.

“Shit!” Rafe swore as he took the garlic bread out of the oven. The one item the responsibility of Rafe charred black, a few of them even smoking as he dropped them on the stovetop. Y/n fanned the bread with a kitchen towel, the two of them coughing at the smoke. The garlic bread was the last part of the meal, the spaghetti and salad already out and Wheezie putting the final touches on the table setting.

“Fuck.” Rafe ran a hand through his hair before resting his hands on his hips. Y/n found herself laughing at Rafe’s complete lack of cooking ability… even when it came to frozen garlic bread.

“Leave me alone.” Rafe grabbing at y/n’s sides. She tried to evade his grasp, squealing with laughter as he caught her and lifted her off the ground. She swatted at his arms, which only caused him to hold onto her tighter.

“The salad is— shit.” Wheezie said as she came into the kitchen, noticing the burnt bread and y/n and Rafe giggling.

“Hey! Language!” The door to the hotel room swung open to reveal Ward. Rafe promptly sat y/n back down on the ground, the smiles on both of their faces evaporating as Ward entered into the hotel followed closely by a very drunk Rose.

“What’s going on?” Ward asked, his eyes glancing over the elegant table setting and dirty kitchen before landing on Rafe.

“We made dinner.” Rafe said simply, y/n trying her best to avoid Ward’s stern gaze.

“We’re in Italy and you made fucking dinner?” Ward scoffed. Y/n’s eyes flicked over to Rafe, who clenched his jaw as he took a deep inhale.

“It was my idea, Mr Cameron. I thought it would be fun.” Y/n said quickly, her eyes finally meeting Ward’s. With a sigh, Ward ran a hand over his face.

“Ok, ok. Just clean it up when you’re done.” Ward muttered before guiding a stumbling Rose through the living room to their bedroom. Wheezie, Rafe, and y/n let out a unified sigh of relief before returning to the task at hand.

“Let’s eat. I’m fuckin starving.” Rafe said before making his way over to the kitchen table. Wheezie had done an exceptional job: the flowers Rafe had gotten y/n arranged in a vase, tapered candles lit, and silverware shining alongside bone colored plates. Rafe pulled a seat out, allowing y/n to sit in front of one of the arrangements before he himself took the seat next to her. Wheezie sat opposite them, grabbing them salad and starting the meal. The conversation was limited as each of them filled up their plates, their hunger more on their minds than social than any particular social etiquette.

“So what are you guys doing for the rest of the week?” Wheezie said, her mouth full of spaghetti. Y/n glanced over at Rafe, who was looking back at her mid bite.

“Well we’re planning on going to the beach on Friday with Sarah and John B but other than that we don’t really have anything planned—” y/n said.

“Actually we do have something planned the last night. Y/n and I.” Rafe said, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding y/n’s quirked brow.

“What?” Y/n whispered, trying to gauge Rafe’s reaction as he continued to focus on his dinner as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Told you this vacation was gonna be full of surprises.” Rafe shrugged, a small smirk as he took another bite of spaghetti.

“Um… ok…” Wheezie’s eyes darted between the two of them, spinning her spaghetti fork absentmindedly.

“So… what do you want to do after dinner?” Y/n cleared her throat.

“Movie?” Wheezie asked.

“Musical?” Y/n added, her lips turning into a smile, Wheezie quickly repeating.

“No–” Rafe started with a groan.

“This is Wheezie’s night, boy. Let her pick.” Y/n shook Rafe’s shoulder playfully, to which he rolled his eyes.

Once the dishes were finally done, which took about twice as long as necessary due to Rafe’s inability to not play in the soapy water, the three of them changed into pajamas and crammed into the living room. The beautiful blue island and sounds of ABBA filled the room, Wheezie and y/n singing along as Mamma Mia played on the TV. Rafe watched the two of them, his heart fluttering at the way y/n’s face glowed in the soft illumination of the TV.

“You’re dancing for this one.” Y/n smiled as “Lay All Your Love on Me” played through the speakers. Rafe cringed as y/n grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. She grabbed his other hand, swinging their hands together as she bounced along playfully. Despite his usual distaste of musicals or dancing, he couldn’t help but smile at y/n’s presence. Getting more into the music, Rafe spun y/n around with a chuckle before pulling her flush against his chest before dipping her dramatically. Y/n squealed before he straightened her back out, her giggles filling the air.

“Wait, wait, let me get my camera!” Wheezie said, scrambling over to the side table and grabbing her little polaroid camera. Rafe wrapped his arms around y/n’s waist as Wheezie held the camera up to her eyes. Rafe lowered his face down, his cheek pressed against y/n’s as the both of them smiled widely. With a flash, Wheezie took a picture, capturing the moment as Rafe’s eyes flicked over to y/n’s face. Wheezie put the camera down, grabbing the polaroid and shaking it out. Rafe and y/n peered over her shoulder, Rafe still holding firmly onto her waist as their faces slowly started to develop.

“Oh wow, Wheeze, this is such a good—” Y/n gasped, taking the picture from Wheezie with a wide smile.

“I’ll be keeping that.” Rafe said, taking the picture from y/n and pulling out his wallet. He flipped the wallet open, quickly tucking the picture alongside the growing collection of polaroids, photobooth strips, movie tickets, and whatever trinket he kept that reminded him of y/n.

“Only letting that go because of whatever surprise you have in store, boy. Better be good.” Y/n said, hitting her hip against Rafe lightly as she quirked her brow.

“I promise you’ll love it.” Rafe said, pressing a quick kiss to the side of y/n’s head before flopping back onto the couch. Y/n shook her head, grinning quickly, before turning back to Wheezie. The two of them continued their singing and dancing late into the night, but Rafe didn’t mind. He could probably watch y/n act like this, practically glowing with joy, for the rest of his life and die a happy man.

#obx #obx au #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #kook!reader

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1425fivefive · 24 hours ago

Note

and one more prompt bc i love to torment you....Dando and denial *eyebrow wiggle*

this is, and i really can't emphasize this enough, so rancid. set at zandvoort 2022 right after daniel was dropped my mclaren. tw: dubious consent and undernegotiated kinks (for the kink prompt asks)

The problem, Daniel thinks, is that Lando watches too much porn.

It’s the only explanation for Lando turning up to Daniel’s hotel room after Zandvoort to announce that he currently has a pussy—the newest victim of the sex swap curse that keeps hitting various members of the grid—and that he wants Daniel to fuck him in the arse.

When Daniel asks why Lando wouldn’t just want Daniel to fuck his newly-acquired pussy, Lando shrugs and says, “Seems like the girls in the videos always, like, really like it up the arse.”

“Huh,” Daniel says, because he’s not really sure what else to say when Lando’s standing in the middle of Daniel’s hotel room, asking to be fucked in the arse because he’s seen it in porn while clutching a frankly comically enormous bottle of lube.

Lando’s face scrunches. “It’s not, like, weird—”

“It’s pretty weird, mate,” Daniel says, forcing a laugh.

“—like, I have a pussy, it’s not, like, gay—”

Daniel’s fucked trans guys. He knows Lando having a pussy doesn’t have anything to do with whether this is gay or not.

“—and Max told me about the shit you and he used to do at Red Bull. Reckoned you wouldn’t really care even if it was sort of gay.”

“Don’t,” Daniel says, hating the way his voice cracks.

Lando blinks at him, eyes wide, as if to say, What’d I do?

“Just, like”—Daniel brings a hand up, rubs the back of his neck—“not in the mood to chat about Max, yeah?”

Daniel sees understanding dawn in Lando’s eyes, something awfully close to pity flashing across Lando’s face. Like Lando’s worked out that the reason Daniel never talks about what he and Max were to each other. Like Lando’s realized that Daniel was the idiot who thought the thing between him and Max actually meant something.

“Interesting,” Lando says, drawing out the word, looking like the cat that got the fucking cream.

It makes Daniel want to tell Lando to get the fuck out of his room. Makes him want to remind Lando that McLaren only loves him because of whatever shit Lando does in Zak’s office. Makes him want to shove Lando’s face in the fact that Lando’s never won a race while Daniel won fucking Monaco, won Monza in 2021, McLaren’s first win in a decade. And where was fucking Lando?

Daniel knows none of it changes anything. Lando has a seat for next year and Daniel doesn’t.

But right now, Lando’s standing in Daniel’s hotel room, too porn-brained to realize that people with pussies don’t even have fucking prostates, asking Daniel to fuck him in the arse.

Daniel hates himself when he starts picturing it. Picturing Lando struggling to take his cock, his pussy dripping and empty and untouched, aching for it. Lando slowly realizing that being fucked in the arse isn’t enough to come, that he’ll need to have his pussy played with to get anywhere. Daniel just coming inside him, leaving Lando sobbing to come.

And, like, it’s fucked but Daniel can admit it’s also hot. And Daniel knows it’s not winning but as he stares at Lando, thinks about how Lando’s been looking at him all year, like Daniel’s a dog that needs to be put down, Daniel starts to convince himself it sort of is.

“Still want me to fuck your arse?” Daniel asks shortly.

“Yeah,” Lando says with a shrug, clearly trying to act casual, like he didn’t turn up to Daniel’s hotel room practically begging for it.

“Fine,” Daniel says. “Then take your clothes off and get on the bed.”

Lando hesitates for a moment but he listens, sheds his clothes and clambers onto the bed, Daniel catching little teasing glimpses of Lando’s pussy on the way. Daniel can see enough to tell that Lando’s wet. He tries to ignore the way his mouth goes a bit dry at the sight.

Lando flops back against the pillows, watching Daniel expectantly. Like there’s any way in hell Daniel’s gonna fuck him like that, sprawled out on his back. Nah, Daniel doesn’t have any interest in seeing Lando’s face during this.

“Turn over,” Daniel snaps.

Daniel thinks that might be enough to have Lando climbing off the bed and pulling on his clothes, telling Daniel to fuck off.

But Lando’s breath hitches, cheeks flushing. Like maybe a part of him likes when Daniel’s cruel. Daniel’s not doing it for Lando, doesn’t give a shit whether Lando likes it or not, but it makes things easier when Lando rolls over onto his stomach, spreading his thighs a bit, putting his pussy and hole on display.

Daniel tugs his shirt off over his head, unbuckling his belt. Lando turns his head to look at him, but Daniel just says, “Face forward.”

Daniel thinks he hears a little whimper from Lando, watches a wet spot form on the fabric of the hotel sheets underneath Lando’s cunt. God, he really is dripping for it, his pussy flushed and dark. A part of Daniel thinks it’s a shame it won’t be getting fucked.

Daniel knees his way onto the bed, grabs Lando’s arsecheeks in his hands and pulls, spreading Lando open.

Lando whimpers into the pillow but he stays where he is, shaking under Daniel’s hands. Daniel can’t tell whether it’s desire or fear. Both, maybe. Daniel lets some saliva pool in his mouth and spits onto Lando’s hole, watching it slide over the tight furl. Lando lets out a humiliated sob into the pillow, twisting like he’s about to turn back and snap at Daniel.

But Daniel shoots a hand up to Lando’s hair, shoving Lando’s face against the pillow, holding him there until Lando goes lax.

“Good,” Daniel says. “Stay there.”

Another shiver runs through Lando but he stays still, lets Daniel squirt lube onto his fingers and drag them over Lando’s hole, pushing one in and then two before Lando’s really ready for it. Lando moans into the pillow, rim going tighter.

“Relax,” Daniel says, landing a smack against Lando’s arsecheek, listening to Lando’s outraged little squeak, watching the muscle bounce. But Lando loosens enough for Daniel to slip his entire fingers in, stretching him quickly, perfunctorily.

Daniel doesn’t really care about making this good for Lando. Sort of wants to see Lando squirm as Daniel pushes in. Lando can tell him to stop if he really hates it. He’s strong, stronger, maybe, than Daniel is at the moment, what with the starvation diet Michael’s put him on and the anxiety making it hard to find the motivation to eat. Daniel doesn’t have any doubt that Lando could shove him off if he wanted to.

“Condom?” Daniel asks.

Lando doesn’t say anything, and Daniel lands another smack on his arse, harder this time.

“Answer when I’m asking you a question,” Daniel says shortly.

Lando says something inaudible into the pillow.

Daniel tugs his fingers out of Lando’s arse, groaning at the sight of Lando’s rim struggling to close, and digs his lubed fingers into Lando’s hair, pulling Lando’s head back.

“What was that?” Daniel asks.

“I said,” Lando says, still a little edge of petulance, “do whatever you want. I don’t give a shit.”

A part of Daniel can't help but wonder if Lando came to him because he wanted it like this. If Lando's letting Daniel think he has all the power when really Lando chose him, chose Daniel because he already knew Daniel would fuck him exactly like this, rude and harsh.

But Daniel doesn't let himself think about it for too long, just lets Lando’s head drop back against the pillow and grabs the lube, squirting a bit more onto his hand, getting his dick nice and wet. He drags his dick over Lando’s hole, slaps it a few times with the tip, barking out a shocked laugh when Lando whimpers, arse shoving back toward Daniel like he’s begging for Daniel’s cock.

“God,” Daniel murmurs, lining himself up, “should’ve known you’d be such a fucking slut.”

Lando says something high and whiny, something Daniel can’t hear because he’s sliding inside of Lando’s absurdly tight hole, his walls clenching around Daniel like he’s trying to pull him in and shove him out all at once. It feels outrageously, maddeningly good, so good that Daniel’s immediately worried he’s fucked up, that he might never get over how good Lando feels around him. That he’ll just have to wander around for the rest of his life knowing that his annoying as shit twenty-two-year-old ex-teammate has the tightest arse he’s ever fucked.

“Jesus, Lando,” Daniel groans, shoving in deeper. “S’like no one’s ever fucked you here.”

Lando lets out an anguished sob into the pillow and Daniel’s stomach flips as he realizes maybe no one has. It shouldn’t have Daniel’s stomach flipping, shouldn’t have him grabbing Lando’s hips, tight, and tugging Lando back onto his cock, eyes locked on where Lando’s struggling to take him with each pass of Daniel’s hips.

“God,” Daniel moans, fucking hard, fast, solely focused on chasing his own pleasure. “Feel so fucking good, Lando.”

Lando’s making wet noises into the pillow like maybe he’s crying and Daniel wonders whether maybe Lando’s crying. Daniel thinks about checking, but he notices Lando snaking a hand underneath himself, like maybe Lando’s thinking about touching himself, like maybe Lando likes this.

Daniel grabs Lando’s wrist, tugging his arm behind his back, ignoring Lando’s outraged noise. He grabs Lando’s other arm for good measure and tugs both of Lando’s wrists against the small of Lando’s back, holding them there, using the grip on Lando’s wrists to tug Lando back onto his cock.

Lando’s sobbing something Daniel can’t make out and Daniel decides to ignore it until Lando’s twisting his face against the pillow, freeing his mouth, and gasping, “Need t’come.”

Daniel snorts. Lando should’ve thought of that when he barged into Daniel’s hotel room demanding that Daniel fuck his arse. Daniel doesn’t do anything, just keeps Lando’s hands pressed against the small of his back and fucks him hard and fast.

“Please,” Lando sobs, and Daniel can see how red his face is, tears on his cheeks. “Please, Daniel, want to come.”

It tickles something awful in Daniel’s brain, hearing Lando beg. It’s even worse realizing that he has no intention of giving in.

“Yeah, well”—Daniel fucks in deep, grinding against where Lando’s prostate would normally be—“should’ve thought of that earlier.”

“No,” Lando gasps, fingers splaying out, wrists tugging against Daniel’s hold. “No, Daniel, please—”

“Bet your little pussy feels so fucking empty,” Daniel says, dragging himself closer to his own orgasm. “Bet your clit’s fucking begging for it.”

“Yeah,” Lando pants, squeezing his eyes shut, lip quivering. “Want you to—fuck my pussy, Daniel, please.”

Daniel’s quiet for a minute, lets Lando think he might give in. But Daniel says, “Nah.” He tugs Lando back on his cock. “This is what you asked for, mate. This is what you wanted.”

Lando shoves his face against the pillow and gasps, “I didn’t—I didn’t know.”

Daniel groans at that, moments away from coming.

Lando seems to realize his window of opportunity’s closing because he twists around as far as he can, eyes desperate, and pleads, “Daniel, please, please. Fuck, please.”

“What?” Daniel asks, feeling half-crazed, half-delirious at the sight of Lando strung out and begging on his cock. “What do you want?”

“Fuck my pussy,” Lando whimpers, eyes pleading. “Please, Dan, please fuck my pussy.”

“Yeah?” Daniel asks, voice ragged. “Want me to fuck your pussy?”

Lando nods frantically, fucking himself back on Daniel’s cock. “Please,” Lando whines. “Want you to fuck my pussy, want it so fucking bad.”

Daniel comes with a groan, filling Lando’s arse, fingers digging into Lando’s wrists.

“No,” Lando gasps. He lets out an anguished sob and shoves his face into the pillows, body shaking in Daniel’s grip, wrists still caught behind his back.

Daniel pulls out of him slowly, moaning at the sight of Lando’s fucked-open hole, his pussy flushed a dusky pink, glistening with arousal.

“Fuck,” Daniel murmurs, getting his hands under Lando’s hips, tugging him up so Daniel can see his untouched pussy, see his clit, swollen and huge with need.

Lando doesn't say anything, just squirms and sobs into the pillow, pussy twitching under Daniel's gaze.

Daniel stays there for a few moments, until he watches his come start to drip out of Lando. As he slips off the bed, Lando slumping against the mattress, he tries desperately to convince himself that he's finally won.

But Lando rolls over and gives Daniel a lazy grin despite the tears sliding down his cheeks. "Fuck," Lando says, looking sated, content. "Reckon I really needed that."

#dando #kink prompts

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