#and then a moment where they all shut up and just stand there wondering how rin got a lover before them
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chaos-vixen · 19 hours 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.
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gingerteafairy · 3 days ago
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𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 (𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐝 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐝𝐚𝐯𝐞)
requested by @ikkyfics, love ya honey (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。
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tags: blackfem!reader, cursing, softdom!reader, sub!dave, dom!todd, lil bi vibes, threesome, p in v, unprotected, oral (f!m! receiving), pet names, slut shaming, filth, cum eating. word count: 5.5k. enjoy :)
The insults in the world ran out just before you got into the taxi. A friend invited you to a Secret Santa party where you didn’t know a single soul, hoping you’d finally break out of your shell and maybe meet someone to talk to or—who knows—maybe even date. You pulled on your usual outfit—a skirt and turtleneck—not bothering with makeup because, well, you didn’t really care about this party.
It was set to start at 8 pm, so 7:50 seemed like a good time to leave. Something was probably already happening by now. You weren’t entirely sure how you felt about this, but maybe you could manage to stop looking so miserable and meet a guy, or at least make a new friend.
You hopped out of the taxi and, with hesitant steps, approached the doorbell. For a second, you thought about bailing and going back home. 8:20. Someone had to be here.
Ding dong.
"Who is it?" A guy’s voice boomed through the intercom.
"It’s the new girl from college. I’m here for the Secret Santa. Elijah invited me. Is this Marty’s house?"
"Yeah. Hang on."
A few seconds later, a good-looking guy holding a dog opens the door. You blinked, wondering if this guy was some kind of VIP for the night.
"Hey," he grins, stepping aside to let you in, and then quickly shuts the door behind you. "You’re the first one here."
You blink, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. "Sorry… what?"
"Yeah, you’re the first. Everyone else is running a little late," he laughs, tying the dog’s leash to a chair at the kitchen island. "I’m Max, Marty’s brother."
"Hi, Max." You smile, offering your name as you step further inside.
A moment later, another guy walks in. You recognize him immediately—it’s Martin, the guy you’ve seen around campus with Elijah. He approaches you with a friendly handshake, and the two of you exchange introductions while sitting in one of the chairs that’s set up for the party.
"So... what do you do?" He asks, breaking the silence, his voice a little shy.
"College? Nursing," you reply, awkwardly folding your hands in your lap.
"Nice," he nods, eyes on the floor. "I’m doing engineering. Mechanical engineering."
"That’s really cool," you say, offering a small smile, noticing him light up at your response.
The doorbell rings, and you almost sigh with relief—it’s a welcome distraction from the awkward silence. A couple of people walk in, and among them, two familiar faces—Todd and Dave—enter together, greeting Marty with a hug.
You don’t know them well enough to call them best friends, but you like both of them, more than just friends. You’ve always pushed that feeling aside, though. It was impossible. They were both too ridiculously attractive in different, yet equally special ways. And your heart—well, it could make room for both of them. Yet, you felt way more than just sexual attraction for both. You really felt something romantic or even platonic. They awake more than a carnal-casual-primitive thing in you. It was almost maternal and evolved all kinds of love. You loved them. Maybe that's why you came here afterwards.
"You came! How’s it going?" Todd grins, heading over to give you a high-five. You stand up to hug him.
"I’m good. I’m just not really used to situations like this," you laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Hey, Dave."
"Hey." He smiles at you, hands shoved into his pockets. You hug him back, a little shyly. You told yourself today would be the day you tried to be cool.
But two hours later, you were just scrolling through your phone, watching everyone chat and goof around. The energy in the room felt a little suffocating, so you decide to head to Marty’s room where a few guys are playing FIFA. The spot next to Todd on the couch is open—thank God.
"I’m sitting next to you, Todd," you say, trying to sound upbeat despite your frustration, plopping down on the couch with a pillow in your lap.
"Sure. Is it comfy?" Todd asks, shifting his body slightly to make more room for you, but instinctively, you move closer, forcing him to adjust and pull back into his spot.
"Ever played FIFA?" Dave asks, never looking away from the screen, his fingers flying over the controller.
"Yeah, but it’s been forever," you reply, watching the screen as Dave scores a goal. You laugh when you hear Andrew—one of the other guys—groan from across the room.
"Dude, you picked the worst team and you’re still winning. That’s cheating!" Andrew complains, tossing his controller onto the couch and storming out of the room.
"Andy, you’re such a sore loser," Marty laughs, shaking his head. "Hey, I think the pizza’s here. Wanna go grab some?"
"Nah, man. I wanna keep playing," Dave says, scanning the screen for a new team.
"He’s only going because Erica’s downstairs," Todd teases.
"Erica and pepperoni? Heaven," Marty chuckles, heading out and closing the door behind him, leaving you alone with the two guys.
"So, who did you get for Secret Santa?" Todd asks, and you glance at him, suddenly aware of how close your faces are.
"Wouldn’t that kind of ruin the surprise?" You reply, doing your best not to stare at his full lips and the dimples that appear when he smiles.
"Good point," he nods, turning back to the game as Dave continues to pick between Barcelona and Real Madrid. "Hey, you want something to eat?"
"Not right now. Save me a slice," Dave responds, smiling as he picks Barcelona, and the game kicks off, passing the controller to Todd.
"I’ve never seen you with curly hair," Todd says, glancing at you briefly before turning his attention back to the screen. "It’s pretty. I actually think it looks better this way."
"Really?" You ask, feeling your cheeks flush. "Thanks, Todd."
As you watch the two guys play, you start to realize why they’re so ridiculously attractive. They’re gorgeous. Smooth, charming, and don’t even get you started on their voices. You could die to hear one of those deep moans in your ear. Whatever. You could handle both of them at once. You were here to have fun, so why not just go for it?
"Why don’t we play something to get to know each other better?" Todd suddenly suggests, setting the controller down and turning his full attention to you.
"Sure. Sounds fun," you agree, flashing him a smile.
Dave sets his controller down and stands up, moving to the couch. Todd scoots over to make space for him, leaving you in the middle. He glances at you and adjusts his glasses, clearly a little nervous.
"What kind of game?" he asks, focusing on Todd, who pulls out his phone and shows you a website.
"Each person asks a question from the site," Todd explains. "But!" He pauses, looking between you two. "You gotta pick a number from 1 to 69, because each question’s got a number."
"Cool. So we pick a number, the question pops up, and we answer," you say, nodding as you accept the idea, earning a smile from him. "Does the question go to both of us?"
"Yep. Everybody answers," he confirms.
"What happens if I don’t wanna answer?" Dave asks, looking a little uncertain.
Todd thinks about it for a moment, but you jump in first. "You get punished. We’ll decide the punishment on the spot."
"Exactly," Todd grins. "Alright, your turn, Dave. Pick a number."
"Six," Dave says, and the virtual wheel spins before landing on the question.
What was your last kiss like?
"Man, what kind of site is this?" Dave blurts out, his eyes widening in surprise, clearly not expecting such a question.
"It’s a fun site, now answer the question," Todd teases, his lips curling into a smirk as he leans back slightly, almost casually, but you can see the spark of amusement in his eyes.
"It was good," Dave says quickly, looking over at Todd, who rolls his eyes dramatically, clearly not impressed with the answer.
"Details, man. C’mon, don’t be vague," Todd pushes, raising an eyebrow as he leans forward, his posture open, but the slight tension in his shoulders shows that he's watching Dave closely. "Look, my last kiss was with Samantha. It was kinda weird though. She had this odd habit of tugging on my shirt. She was pretty, but... there was no chemistry."
"O-okay..." Dave mutters, his cheeks tinged pink as he looks down at his hands. "My last kiss was with Lily. She smelled amazing and, uh... taught me french kiss," he admits, almost shyly.
"Aww, that’s cute, Dave," you can’t help but say, your heart fluttering at how adorable he sounds. You can’t resist reaching over to pinch his cheeks, causing him to look at you in surprise. His expression softens, and you can see a slight blush creeping up his neck. "My last kiss was with Louis. He had no idea how to tease, just went straight for it, desperate for sex, you know. I got mad and stopped."
"That sucks," Todd says, his voice softer than before, as though he’s trying to comfort you. "Alright, my turn. 51," he says, grabbing his phone again. He glances at you quickly, and you catch the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
"Are you seeing anyone?" The question pops up on the screen, and Todd answers almost immediately, his gaze locking with yours for a beat too long.
"No," Todd responds quickly, almost too quickly, before he pauses, as if considering something. He shifts in his seat, the subtle shift of his weight towards you betraying the fact that he's not entirely indifferent. "Although, I am interested in someone."
"I’m not dating anyone," you reply, keeping your tone light, your eyes flicking toward Dave, who looks away shyly when he realizes you're waiting for his answer. "What about you, Dave?"
"No," he says, his voice quiet and soft, and when you look up at him, you notice his eyes are lingering just a little longer on yours. There's a softness there, a touch of something he doesn't quite say aloud, but it’s in the way he looks at you.
"My turn. 32," you say, your voice suddenly a little breathier as your heart beats a little faster. You feel the heat of both of their eyes on you.The question flashes on the screen.
What's your type?
You freeze for a second, your gaze bouncing nervously between the two of them, before settling on Dave. His voice is low and slightly hesitant when he speaks. "I like... smart and cute girls..."
"Aw, that’s sweet," you smile, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. He’s so sincere, it makes your stomach do flips.
"And curly hair," he adds, almost shyly, his eyes scanning your hair as if he's studying it. "I really like curly hair..." His voice trails off, and he meets your eyes again, waiting for your reaction, the warmth in his expression almost overwhelming.
"Oh... me too," you say softly, a little caught off guard by how intense his gaze has become. You swallow nervously, your smile turning a little weaker, and you reluctantly shift your eyes back to Todd, feeling a bit flustered. "What about you?"
"Shy, funny, a little awkward, teasing, likes games, curly hair... and dark skin, sun kissed like" Todd says, his voice a little deeper now, and he bites his lower lip as he speaks.
His gaze drops down to your lips for just a second, then flicks back to your eyes. There’s a vulnerability there, something unspoken but clear. He just described you, and the thought makes your heart race a little faster. Was he talking about you? It feels like it, and you try to brush it off, but it's hard to ignore.
"What’s your type?" Dave asks, a little more confident now, but there’s a hesitation in his posture, a slight shift of his weight as he moves just a little closer to you. His eyes are so intense, you can feel them on you even when you try to look away.
"Nerds," you say, trying to keep it casual, but it’s clear you’ve piqued their interest. Their eyes are suddenly a little brighter, more focused on you than before. You feel a little self-conscious, but also strangely empowered by their attention.
"Alright, next question," Todd says, his voice still light, but there's a small twitch in his smile. He doesn't break eye contact with you for a second before quickly glancing at Dave. "Dave, pick a number."
"25," Dave responds, inching closer to Todd, and you feel your heart rate pick up when Todd leans in, his shoulder grazing yours. You instinctively lean back just a little, but it’s hard to ignore the way the air shifts, the closeness between all of you becoming suddenly much more palpable.
"What's the sexier part of me? What a question," Todd laughs, though his voice is slightly more strained than before. He looks over at Dave, who’s blushing now, his face bright red as he stumbles over his words. "You wanna answer that?"
"Uhmm... can we change the question?" Dave asks, voice cracking slightly, clearly embarrassed but also trying to hide his nervousness.
"Your lips," you blurt out, without thinking, and as soon as the words leave, you realize how bold they sound. You can feel the heat in your cheeks, but you don’t take them back. You meet his gaze, and his eyes darken by a few shades, locking onto you with an intensity that makes you catch your breath.
He pauses for a long moment, his eyes shifting between your lips and your eyes. "I... I think your lips are... really nice too," he says, his voice soft, almost a whisper, as if afraid to make the moment too real. "More than nice, actually. I like how... they seem painted in different colors. It's so pretty."
"Wow, Dave." You blush, tugging a hair strand behind your ear. "That was like, my biggest insecurity for a long time."
"It shouldn't be." He comforted, smiling gently. "It's one of the prettiest things in you."
"Your eyes," Todd interrupts, his voice low and steady as he gently touches your face, his fingers brushing the side of your cheek. Todd’s gaze is intent now, his fingers lingering on his skin for a fraction too long, and you notice the way Todd’s gaze flicks toward Dave for a split second, as if seeking your reaction and his too.
"Wasn’t that for me?" Dave chuckles awkwardly, the laughter fades when Todd flicks his middle finger at him, giving him a playful little gesture, before focusing back on the game.
"My turn. I’ll pick number 8," Todd says, spinning the wheel again. He’s trying to maintain his usual easy-going demeanor, but there’s a slight tension in his posture, as though he’s waiting for your reaction. "I’m changing the question."
"That's not fair!" you exclaim, grabbing the phone from his hand, and then you freeze when you see the question.
What do you want to do with the person next to you?
"What you… want to…do?" Dave echoes, his eyes locked on yours, searching for something unspoken in your gaze.
“I guess it's what you want to do with the person now?" Todd repeats, his voice low, pulling your attention toward him. His eyes shine with a mixture of amusement and something deeper—something harder to define.
A silence settles between you all, the exchange of glances like walking through a minefield. You aren’t sure where to look—at Todd’s intense, dark eyes or Dave’s soft, blue ones. Both are captivating, dangerous in their own way.
"Punishment," Todd breaks the tension, leaning in slightly, his proximity making your breath hitch. "I don’t think I wanna to answer that question."
"Why?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper, as Todd’s thumb grazes your cheek, your noses almost brushing.
"Because I prefer to show it," he answers, his breath warm against your skin, a tantalizing closeness you can’t ignore. "And I’m going to be punished for it."
"What if you're not...?" you murmur, biting your lip nervously, and his eyes close for a brief moment, his pulse quickening as if your words have struck something inside him.
"I won’t be able to stop," he whispers back, his voice almost a groan of restraint. But just as the air thickens, he pulls away, his attention shifting, his awareness of Dave’s presence behind you palpable. Dave is bright red, taking every detail on that beautiful mind.
"15," you suggest, desperate to change the atmosphere a little, watching as Todd spins the wheel again, still caught in the lingering tension.
The question appears: If you could bite me, where would you bite?
Your heart races, the weight of the question hanging in the air. You turn your attention to Dave, feeling his eyes on you, studying you with a quiet intensity. Slowly, he leans toward your neck, his gaze flickering down, but he doesn’t speak. The heat of his breath sends a shiver down your spine.
"Punishment," he whispers, and then, without another word, he gently nibbles a small part of your neck, pulling back to study you. His eyes are filled with an expression you never expected from Dave—serious, daring, and a little too intense for your own comfort.
However, the moisture between your legs was already affecting your ability to think straight about what could happen if the people downstairs suddenly entered the party. You just wanted both of them. At the same time and now.
So, you approached Dave, looking at him through your eyelashes and nibbled on his lower lip, pulling it sensually and letting go looking straight into his blue orbs. Affected by the blood flowing down his body, Dave pulls you again, tangling his hands in your hair to engage you in a desperate, clumsy yet delicious kiss. Sweet. Moaning into the boy's lips when he touched his hands to your breasts, squeezing lightly.
Todd cleared his throat, and you reluctantly pulled away from Dave, adjusting yourself as you felt Todd's intense gaze on you. His chocolate eyes seemed even darker now, filled with something deeper. "Can I answer now?"
"Yeah," you reply, your breath a little uneven. You nervously swipe at the small trace left by Dave's lips, a lingering sensation that still stirs your thoughts.
Todd watches you carefully, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, he leans in closer to your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers softly. "Your nipple."
You purr with the answer and felt your body produce lubrication like crazy, as if you had never done that in your life. "Do you wanna show me?"
He laughs softly before getting closer to your lips and devouring them with a quick, intense, carnal kiss. Todd might not be as experienced, but he certainly made up for it with the way he devoured your lips with bites and hickeys down your neck and jaw and back to your mouth.
A little wet strand is shown when he breaks the kiss to move down with small kisses down your nipple already hardened, showing through the thin fabric of your bra. He looked at your face one last time as a question and you nodded, unable to speak due to the crazy intensity of the moment.
Todd reaches for the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. “Fuck.” He whispers when he sees your exposed skin covered by a simple bra, that he didn’t take off, just pulled it down to free your left breast, which made you shiver with the cold air touching them.
Laughing into your chest, he silences himself, grabbing it and sucking slowly, nibbling gently between his teeth, making your head fall back, leaning against the couch to enjoy the touch, where Dave wasted no time and kissed you fervently.
“Uhmm… Todd,” you moan when you feel his hand starting to trail squeezes in your inner thigh, getting closer to your soaked core. “Don't tease me, baby.”
“Please, say my name.” Dave whimpered, pouting his lips. "I mean... you're saying Todd's. I wanna hear mine too..."
“Oh, Dave. I can't hold myself when you do it.” You cooed, cupping his face with your right hand to kiss him once more while your left was busy ruffling Todd's hair, the boy already busy pressing the bulge on his jeans.
“Can I ask something crazy?” Todd lifted his head, you and Dave focused on him, dizzy by the moment. “What if we, you know… make out?”
“Damn, you're dirty, Todd.” You teased, leaning to bite his bottom lip again.
“You're the one between two guys here.” He shot back, pinching your nipple between his thumb and index. “I would say that you're the dirtiest of us both.”
"it'd be dirty if I said i want those guys inside me." You shot back and his only reaction was dropping his mouth, recovering for a second.
“You sure? How would we do this?” Dave inquired, his gaze on your beautiful dark nipples, where he cups on his hands with no hesitation, smiling when you mewl. “God, I'm in. I need to hear it more. Who will you choose first?”
“I can take you both.” You confess, biting your lip when they exchange looks before attacking your neck at the same time.
Dave’s sweet and passionate rhythm drives you crazy on your neck and breasts while Todd’s carnal and almost raw feels tucked his hand on your panties, caressing the aching wet clit while the other digged in the skin of your waist.
“Uhm… Todd…Dave… this is…so good.” You whine by the touch.
“Fuck, dude. I can't take it. Looks like porn,” Dave giggled, digging his fingers on your thigh to open your legs to them.
“Is it?” You tease, snaking your hands to press the on their bulges. Their hips move in unison against your hand, seeking more contact, all joining in an awkward, dirty, and lustful kiss.
“Boys, take off your clothes, I’m alone here.” You joke, and the two of them waste no time.
Todd pulls his raglan over his head, while Dave unbuttons his flannels, both of them lying awkwardly on the floor. A delicious view of bare chests, backs, and abs, delicious, masculine, yours. How could you choose? They’re perfect.
You get up from the bed, looking over your shoulder at the confused looks of the boys following you until you lie down on the bed and beckon them with your finger. They run, each to a different side of the bed. Dave to the left, Todd to the right. As you put your knee on the bed, you slap it.
“No, no pants.”
You command in a desirous tone, almost salivating when they undo their belts and unbutton their pants desperately, leaving them anywhere. Opening up to a wonderful view of underwear wet with pre-cum and a marked cock. Dave's gray boxers marked his entire large contour, Todd's black ones added an air of mystery that hid his entire enormous length.
“You too.” Dave murmurs, licking his lips in anticipation of your move.
“Why don't you come take them off, baby?” You offer, pressing your legs together to receive some relief from the teasing. He looks at Todd and obeys promptly, going around the bed to climb in the middle where you were, stopping on top of you.
Dave swallows hard, unzipping your skirt. You lift your hips to make it easier to remove, while he runs the fabric over your legs, ankles and finally, to the edge of the bed.
He licks his lips when he sees the soaked stain on your white panties, already transparent, from the wetness of your honey. “Can I… can I… lick it?”
“Sure, honey.” You nod, your chest aching with excitement for the next touch.
He looks you up and down before pushing the fabric down the same path as your skirt, opening his excited eyes to your dripping entrance. Dave leans over, supporting his body on his arms, positioning one of his knees on his strong shoulder. He lowers his head slowly, as if he still doesn’t believe it’s real. Proving the reality when his tongue traces a decisive path along your length, drawing a soft moan from your lips, which gave him the confidence to suck, lick and kiss your sensually affectionate intimacy.
You look at Todd who was forgotten in the corner, clutching his aching tent. “Come on, Todd. I want to… oh, fuck… make you feel good…”
He groaned, removing his boxers, showing off his thick member. You move your body to rest on your elbow, not letting go of Dave's touch. Todd sits next to you, positioning his body to make it easier for you to move against him, while you grab his cock with your hand, slowly jerking it off while licking the appetizing liquid from the tip.
“Fuck. You're so beautiful." He growls, alternating his gaze between Dave jerking off while you tremble beneath him and your mouth filled with his size. "Yes, keep going. It's so fucking good, princess."
He moves his hips, pushing deep into your throat and you roll your eyes, getting lost in how good that felt along with Dave's fingers entering you. He might be shy, but he certainly didn't waste time at this point.
You pull Todd's cock out to jerk it off, but he takes it from your hand and slaps it in your face, especially in your lips, smiling when you spit on it, wetting it even more as you take it in your hands again to put it in your mouth.
“Can I fuck your mouth?” Todd asks, already moving his hips, cursing when you nodded moaning, speeding up the movement until you choked on his tip in your throat.
Dave stands up and you feel the emptiness of his fingers, which was soon filled with the boy's long tasty cock. Dave could be bigger, but Todd was definitely thick and would have difficulty entering you. Which made you yearn even more to feel him stretching you. But your thoughts went far when Dave didn't wait long for you to get used to it and slowly thrust.
"Ugh, this is so good, so good." He whimpers, increasing the pace, grabbing your leg that was on his shoulder to dig his fingers in. "m can't take it, m gonna cum so fucking fast."
Your eyes were in the back of your head, you were in heaven. How he filled you, went deep and came back, broke you and rebuilt you, pulled and pushed. Your eyes filled with tears, whimpering pathetically beneath the two who were the reason for your madness.
"Dave, fuck. More, I want more!" You let go of Todd's cock only to scream and go back to sucking him, gagging. You shiver as you feel the familiar sensation of falling to your stomach. You then collapse into muffled moans and screams, shaking in his strong hands.
"You gag like a whore." Todd groans, fastening his path to fuck himself in your mouth. "My little slut likes to feel my cock? You're so dirty, wanting both."
"Shit, I'm going to cum." Dave announces, pulling out a second too soon, spurting his hot liquid all over the bed. "Sorry, m sorry, oh god."
Your moans become a mess, muffled by Todd's cock, which quickly fills your mouth with strands of his white thick cum.
“Calm down, sweetie. There’s a little more…” he adds breathing, as the last jets are deposited in your mouth, which made you swallow with a little resistance.
You open your mouth, checking that you swallowed all his seed, before licking your lips. “Oh shit, this is so exciting. You’re so hot.” He complains, biting his lips.
“You’re hot.” You praise, seeing the boy smile shyly. “It tastes delicious, Todd.”
Dave sits up, rolling onto his side, followed by Todd, who does the same with a playful grin. They both lean against the grass, eyes wide and breathless, their chests rising and falling dramatically. The three of you are still grinning like fools, drenched in sweat, with your hearts racing from all the fun and craziness.
“What the hell was that?” Dave asks, breaking the silence with a laugh that sounds almost like a mix of disbelief and joy. His voice is still breathless, and it makes everyone burst out laughing.
“We’re crazy!” You say through giggles, your face flushed and your eyes sparkling with excitement. You quickly kiss Dave, and then Todd, before pulling them both close into a hug. They both lean their heads against your chest, feeling the warmth of your embrace.
"Sorry for calling you slut." Todd apologized, pouting.
"That's okay, I liked it." You confess, giggling.
Dave wraps his arm around your back, pulling you in tightly, his grip almost childlike as if he's trying to hold onto the moment. But Todd, with a little more grace, shifts, resting your head on his shoulder. His fingers run lightly through your sweaty hair, trying to fix it as if it’s not already a mess.
“I don’t know how I’m gonna face you guys tomorrow. I feel so embarrassed,” you admit, your voice tinged with vulnerability, as if the weight of something uncertain presses down on you. You bite your lip and look down, your heartbeat still racing. "I'm usually not like this."
“Hey,” Todd says softly, his tone warm and reassuring, making you look up at him. His hand gently lifts your chin, and he meets your eyes. “Don’t be embarrassed. You like us, right?”
“Yeah…” you reply, your voice a little softer now, a shy smile tugging at your lips. You look at Todd, then at Dave, your heart racing in your chest. Dave leans in, giving you a tender kiss, his lips brushing yours with care, as if making sure you know how much he cares.
“We like you too,” Dave says, his voice a little more serious now, but still filled with affection. He sits up fully now, resting his chin in his hand as he looks at you. “We’ve liked you for a while, actually. We just, uh... rushed things a little bit…”
“And how we rushed,” you laugh, your voice a little teasing as you nudge Dave playfully with your shoulder. They both chuckle, clearly embarrassed but happy. “I like both of you, equally. I can’t choose. You both have a spot in my heart.”
“Truth be told,” Dave continues, his cheeks flushing slightly as he glances at Todd. “I like Todd too. Sorry.” He looks almost sheepish, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
“Aw, we’ve got ourselves a bisexual king here,” you joke, your laughter light and teasing as you reach out to kiss Dave’s forehead. You can’t help but smile at how adorable he looks when he gets flustered.
“Relax, man. I like you too. Just don’t expect too much from me, alright? I like pussy.” Todd teases, his grin wide and playful as he gives Dave a light shove. Dave rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.
“I’m not bisexual, I just…” Dave starts, his voice unsure as he looks from you to Todd, his face turning a deeper shade of red.
“Stop explaining yourself,” Todd interrupts, his voice full of mischief as he leans in to plant a quick kiss on Dave’s cheeks. Dave wipes it away with the back of his hand, his face turning bright red as he chuckles awkwardly at Todd’s laughter. But soon, all three of you are laughing together, the tension breaking and the moment feeling lighthearted again.
“I love you guys,” you confess, holding both of them close, your voice thick with emotion. You pull them into a hug, squeezing them tight. “But I think we should get ready, because it’s probably time for Secret Santa.”
“Shit, you’re right,” Dave says, his eyes widening as he jumps to his feet, wiping the sweat off his forehead and adjusting his clothes. He fixes his hair in a hurry, still laughing as he glances back at the two of you. “We better clean up, huh?”
Soon, you’re all downstairs, looking around the room. No one seems to have noticed that the three of you were missing; everyone is either too busy dancing or pairing up for the gift exchange. You smile as you say Erica’s name, handing her the chocolate package she’s been raving about.
“Save a little for me, babe.” Martin pouted, hugging the girl that just giggled and landed a piece on his tongue.
Todd draws Dave’s name, and you can’t help but laugh at how embarrassed Dave looks as he accepts the small superhero action figure with a shy grin.
“T-thank you, dude.” He cooed, hugging Todd, but he is faster and lift his body a little in the air.
“You're welcome, honey.” He winks, and Dave says all the insults of the world before going back to his spot.
Then, a girl named Katie hands Todd a Spider-Man comic, his face lighting up with genuine joy. It’s exactly what he wanted. You smile, happy to see him so excited. As the party winds down, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness. The night had turned out better than you ever imagined. Because, after everything, both Dave and Todd asked you to be their girlfriend. You came to the party hoping for one date, and somehow, you ended up with two. There’s no one luckier than you.
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carryonafi · 1 day ago
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keep my stocking filled.
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ashton irwin x reader; SMUT
a/n: happy holidays and merry christmas to my loves who celebrate 🤍 i hope your holiday season is going wonderful so far, i’m here to give you my gift to all of you for being so patient with my crazy posting schedule. i’m not the most consistent, but you’ve all been so wonderful either way. this year has been crazy and i think the perfect way to end it is with some fluffy, lovey ashton smut. enjoy!!
words: 3.1k
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The first thing you did that morning was snatch your phone off of the bedside table and open up your emails and search for the long awaited confirmation you were looking for.
“Your order has been shipped”
You smiled to yourself, clicking the link that brought you to the tracking page and seeing that it was on its way.
“Package has arrived at carrier office”
Some of the most exciting news you could get, it kept you bouncing around the house until the hour it got to your doorstep. The squeal of excitement you let out made you glad that you were by yourself in the empty house.
What was concealed behind the dull cardboard was the brightest piece of lingerie you could ever own. Red satin with ties for the front and instructions on how to tie the panels together in a bow shape, but was also easily taken apart. The two little cats you had together, Beans and Toast were meowing curiously and already occupying the box. This was your Christmas present a few years ago, Ashton suggested he go through immunotherapy before you moved in together so you didn’t have to get rid of your babies.
“got a present for you when you get home ;)”
Your fingers glide across the keyboard of your phone like they never have before, quickly sending a text to your boyfriend with a picture of the Christmas tree you had set up and a small peek of the red silk just barely in the corner of the photo. What sparked the idea for you to buy this in the first place was the first reaction you got from Ashton seeing you in a matching piece specifically designed for being sexy, not just some undergarments, you bought and wore them with purpose. So now, it was time to add to the collection. There would be nothing like seeing his eyes sparkle so intensely when he got to unwrap that bow.
“It better be you sitting under that tree.”
“… Preferably with no clothes on. xx”
He replied back with a red heart emoji following his second text message, you giggled to yourself before typing again.
“even better”
You said with a heart of your own, then set off on your mission to try on the lingerie and practice tying the knot a few times until it was perfect. Now a waiting game, trying not to be too impatient for Ashton’s arrival. The ribbon stayed tied, wandering around with it but also making sure it was easy to come apart.
The moment finally came where you were covered up in a fluffy black robe, standing at the counter while trying to place some saran wrap over a batch of brownies you made just moments prior. The front door camera notification came up on your phone and you could hear the eager clicking of the front door, you had to hold back turning to look over your shoulder. When you heard his hushed voice speaking to the cats and the door shut once again, your heart skipped a beat… but god it seemed like so many.
You held your breath, but after hours of waiting you felt Ashton’s strong arms wrap around your middle from behind. He leaned his body weight against you, pressing your frame into the counter as you giggled quietly. Ashton was cold, the fabric of his jacket wasn’t too heated but you could still feel the chill sink through the fluff of your robe.
“Hi.” You said simply, gently pushing the tray of brownies off to the side and turning around with what little room you had to face him. Your arms draped lazily over his shoulders, cupping the back of his neck and lightly grazing the tufts of hair which poked out from his beanie.
“Hey, baby.” Ashton replied in this relieved tone of voice that had you blushing in seconds, the brown curls of his hair laid over one eye.. but you couldn’t bring yourself to push it away.
“Felt like forever you were gone.” You breathed, pressing your forehead to his just as he briefly reached up to take off his beanie and return his hand to your waist.
“It was forever, I missed you.” He didn’t bother ruffling his hair to fix it, but instead pressed a sweet, tender kiss to your lips while his hands massaged your hips in slow circles. You spent a few moments like this, basking in each other’s presence which doubled as warming him up due to being out in the cold. It wasn’t very long until Ashton was sliding his hands back to the front of your robe to try and undo the knot, but you hurried to stop him.
“Hold on.” You had a hand on his chest, meanwhile his eyes drew shapes all over what skin you had exposed… but he was confused. “Go to the couch.” You instructed him quietly, watching as he slowly pulled away from you and raised his eyebrows. At this point you were grinning wildly, following close behind as Ashton wandered through the open kitchen over to the sectional sofa in the living room. Now the cats were preoccupied with something else, whatever it was, you were glad that you didn’t have to shut yourselves off in the bedroom to avoid the awkwardness of two little faces staring at you.
“The anticipation is killing me.” Ashton sighed, settling into the couch and looking back at you still standing behind him. Your manicured fingertip traced the soft linen of the blanket draped across the cushions, walking around the furniture. His gaze never once broke from your sauntering figure, taking a deep, silent breath as his tongue ran over his bottom lip.
“You waited for me all day, you can wait a few more seconds.” You giggled at him, eliciting a whine of your name past that pink pout which you longed to kiss again. Finally, you stood between his knees where his legs were spread wide off of the couch cushions, socks planted firmly on the floor so you had a comfortable place to stand. “Wanna see?” You began taunting the tie to your robe with your fingers, slipping your index in the knot to loosen it further.
“Come on.” He frowned, his flaming eyes burning into yours as you finally gave into the temptation and let the tie fall loose. The robe was now slightly hung to the side as it slid from your shoulders, left first, then right, then a light thud as it hit the carpet. Ashton was in awe, reaching out to run his hands along the sweet satin bottoms and the stitch where they met your bare skin. Another shy giggle slipped past your lips when his touch tickled you and made you squirm, forming into a hum as Ashton firmly placed both hands on your hips to hold you in place.
“Was it worth the wait?” You asked, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth just while your hands fixed themselves in his hair.
“Fucking was it…” Ashton breathed, pulling you closer and motioning for you to get in his lap, to which you obeyed immediately. “How do I enjoy this properly?” He whispered, keeping eye contact as he pressed a kiss to your chest right above the center of the bow.
“That’s your choice, make Christmas your own.” You giggled, gasping once the position changed and you were on your back against the soft couch cushions. Ashton seemed to take it as a challenge, his finger hooked in the knot of the bow with a few more kisses along your collarbones… then he stopped.
“Not yet.” He muttered to himself, the movement of his lips against your skin made you sigh.
It was the warmth of the house, the smell of that sweet cookie scented candle on the coffee table and the lotion that you had put on after washing your hands while handling the brownies. Underneath the festive atmosphere was your erotic scene on the couch, Ashton’s lips had somehow reached every inch of your skin that wasn’t concealed by the satin. He blew a playful raspberry against the flesh of your hip, you gave a squeal of laughter accompanying the kicking of your legs.
“Ash!” You giggled, Ashton used this opportunity to firmly grip your thighs and hook your legs over his shoulders.
“Can’t resist you, you smell like fuckin’ cookies.” He grinned back at you, his fingers hooking in the nice trim waistband of your panties.
“Well I tried to go for vanilla… it’s the lotion you got me.” You whispered, propping yourself up on your forearms as you looked down at his smiling face.
“Hm, it only means you smell good enough to eat.” Ashton started to pull your panties down, only teasing himself as you lifted your hips to help him.
“Is that what you’re gonna do to me?”
“Mmhmm. Lay down.” Ashton mumbled against your hip, one hand moving up your core to gently press down. So you gave in and laid down all the way with a soft smile on your face, the lace was finally gone and Ashton was back to kissing you. He traced shapes on your inner thighs, hips and lower stomach, just teasing and making you arch into his touch.
“You’re so gorgeous, do you know how gorgeous you are?”
“Shut up,” you whined. Ashton’s lips got way too close to your core too many times for you to count, you weren’t going to wait much longer.
“That’s not nice, I thought this was my gift…” He squeezed your thighs and hid his smile behind another few kisses, but no response came to mind so all you did was huff and lay your head back again.
Finally, just finally after a tug on his hair Ashton pressed his lips to your entrance and kissed again. Not much, but close.
“Oh my god…” You choked out in half frustration, but Ashton was getting the hint and picking up the slack. His tongue moved tentatively, fingertips leaving rough indents in your thighs as he buried himself in your heat. Those frustrated groans melted away, he had you moaning and arching your back to get more and more out of him. Ashton obeyed with every cue, never letting go of your legs for a second… something in you gave a slight feeling that he wouldn’t be done with you after this.
Ashton was a man on a mission, not giving a single thought to the way his stubble might start to rough up your inner thighs due to his aggression, not like it was a problem. The problem was that it drove you further to your finish, making the moment shorter.
“W— Wait! No… not yet—“ You gasped, trying hard to tug on Ashton’s hair and pull him off. He didn’t relent, he kept going until you were holding it in and finally letting the overstimulation crash down. Ashton was clearly enjoying it, he groaned with satisfaction at your taste and slowed down to guide you through that orgasm. When he poked his head up, he had this cheeky little smile on his face. The one where his dimples showed, the one that made you smile back despite how breathless you were.
“I think I’m going to unwrap my present now…” He hummed, his hands following the curves of your sides. You were about to speak, but he shook his head. “And don’t you say anything either, I’m taking my time.”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “So much drama.”
“Mhm.” Ashton hummed to shut you up, leaning down over your quivering form to kiss you softly, stark in contrast to how he was just using his mouth moments before. His fingers played with the bow, running his fingertips over the knot and giving it a playful tug. He had to stop kissing you in order to focus on the bow, his eyes darting down to pull it loose with bated breath. The bottom hem stayed around you, which meant he had to carefully unclip the front as well.
“Merry Christmas.” You giggled at the childlike wonder on his face, his eyes roaming over your body and taking in every small detail.
“Best present ever, you’re just… always the best,” Ashton was fumbling, it was so cute… you laughed again and shook your head.
“Don’t make this sappy, we’ll be sappy tomorrow.” You sealed that promise with another kiss to his lips, and he came back with another.
“I can be sappy and fuck you into the couch, don’t you know how good at multitasking I am?” He sassed, nudging his nose against yours as your hands ran over his jaw and gently scratched his cheeks.
“I guess you have to be if…” You looked down, his belt was undone and his jeans were to his knees. The only telling sign of this was how much he was moving around to get them down.
“Merry Christmas.” Ashton mocked you, he grunted once he earned a playful smack to the chest.
“I don’t see a fancy bow down there.” It was your turn to sass back, but no matter how much you bickered or teased each other, nothing was bumpy. It was all smooth sailing and you moved along just like normal, Ashton was very good at multitasking, since his boxers were gone in a few seconds as well.
“I said I’m good at multitasking, not this whole… show like you put on.” He propped one hand next to your head, but his statement made you laugh before realizing he had just slipped between your legs in one motion. You choked out a breath in the middle of your giggling, eyes closing as you got used to the feeling.
“Oh—! F.. Fuck you…” This had to have been the second time that he caught you off guard, Ashton smiled that mischievous little smile again and kissed the corner of your mouth.
“Sorry, precious.” He whispered, continuing those kisses on your cheek and along your jaw. You gasped as he moved his hips a bit further, hands on his shoulders, gripping tightly and digging into his shirt.
“Mh, take it off— take it off.” You pleaded, Ashton obeyed and practically tore his shirt off over his head, immediately getting back into position. Thank god, was all you could think. Your hands returned to his shoulders, drifting towards his collarbones as Ashton started to thrust and thoroughly pleasure you. He made a sound, like a quiet growl against your neck with both hands planted firmly on the couch cushions. Whatever it was, it was hot and got you moaning back in response.
“Squeezin’ me, baby. Like I’ve never fucked you before.” He muttered, latching onto your pulse point to muffle a moan. The only lights that were on were the Christmas lights and the ones above the kitchen counter, the living room only holding a soft glow which made the contours of Ashton’s back and shoulders look delectable.
“I… I really love you,” You whimpered, trying to speak but each thrust almost made you unable to form a coherent sentence.
“‘M trying to dirty talk over here, baby. Thought you said no getting sappy?” Ashton smiled against your neck, nibbling at your skin to make you stumble over your words again.
“Wasn’t… hm— jus’ say it back.” You protested, your nails leaving scratch marks down his chest as you gathered enough strength to hoist your legs up a bit higher around his waist.
“I know, I know… I love you too.” Ashton whispered, his own words failing to sound out together. His breathing picked up, hot against your neck as did the pistoning of his hips.
You were left in a haze, tilting your head to bury your face in Ashton’s hair and moaning against those soft, sandalwood scented curls. Just a little more, you begged him quietly for just a little more to get you through to your second orgasm.
“Ashton…” You gasped, wrapping your arms around his neck as he left you with no choice, his chest was pressed to yours so he could whisper in your ear.
“Shh, let it go.” He kissed your hair, his hips stuttering. “I’ll be right behind you, sweetheart, Paint my pretty girl white, how does that sound?” Ashton cooed in that tone that had you melting, you were putty in his hands as you whined and came around his cock. That delicious pulse inside you, you knew he would keep his promise. He smiled like you had just made him proud, straightening his arms and pushing himself up. “My good girl. I won’t make you flip over, as long as you promise to look at me.”
“I promise,” you whimpered, maintaining eye contact as Ashton pulled out. You let out another sound at the loss, but quickly brought back on track as he cupped your face and wrapped a firm hand around his shaft.
“Stay just like that, exactly, look at you…” He praised, chest heaving with each labored breath he took. The sight of your flushed cheeks and watering eyes drove him mad. Plump, kiss swollen lips that he had bruised from his affection, it all made him feel so possessive. With one final moan he covered your torso in his release, making sure you got every drop as the warmth made you shiver. Ashton got down again to kiss you one last time, to claim those gorgeous pink lips and securely wrap both arms around you. Just a bit ago you were so well put together all for him, it was quite award winning to see you such a mess after he was finished with you.
“This is what I like to see…” Ashton hummed, suckling on your jaw and leaving one last dark mark of his property. You were still in a bit of a daze, only speaking when he pulled away to look at you.
“Merry Christmas?” You giggled, having said that for the 5th time tonight. Ashton laughed along with you and helped you adjust your position on the couch so you were both lying comfortably.
“You got any more fun surprises for me?” He traced your cheekbone. You tapped your chin playfully, looking up at the ceiling.
“Mm… the brownies are done?” You offered, that got Ashton hooked.
“Okay, okay. Let’s lay here for just another minute.” He promised, having to reel himself in from the temptation of brownies as you laughed at him and held him a bit closer than before. It was too nice and warm to leave your cocoon under the Christmas lights, apparently, the chocolate wasn’t tempting enough.
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shin-kenooubu · 3 days ago
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First Date
featuring - Chuuya Nakahara & Dazai Osamu
[sfw . third person limited if anyone cares]
a/n : this was inspired by a conversation between me and the other admin where we both agreed that Dazai would be the type to say i love you on a first date. I also didn’t actually think I’d try to write something substantial so bear with me if it’s not too good.
First dates aren’t really all that bad. You meet a cute girl, get to know her for a bit and you fall out because you don’t tell her where you’ve been going late at night. Thats just how it is.
As Chuuya looked at his partner for the night he couldn’t help but wonder how he got in this situation in the first place. He switched his attention to his cup of tea while letting his date blab about life. Was it him who proposed this date? Yes. Had he been thinking about it for a good long while? Yes. Did he ever think he would actually be sitting in a dainty cafe with this particular person? Well… no. Who would think that Osamu Dazai would say yes to a date with a guy who hates him? Though he supposes it could be some twisted self hatred game that he somehow managed to manipulate Chuuya into being a part of.
Whatever the case he was here now, and seriously doubting his choice of location. It was a cute cafe, usually a favorite of the girls he’s taken out before but was it the best decision to take a man here? He looked up from his cup to see his date still happily blabbing away about how boring work can be and his favorite juniors.
he seems to be happy enough.
“Chuuya I get not many girls ask you out but you should really listen to your date when they’re talking”
“Oh shut up. I was listening, you were talking about your junior atsushi. You talk about him way too much, it makes me sick. Now let’s go.” He stands up while his partner attempts to rationalize his ramblings about that particular junior. It’s weirdly sweet seeing Dazai act similar to a doting mother when talking about him. So sweet it makes him want to vomit. That feeling was one Chuuya was all too familiar with as it was constant from the minute he first met Dazai. Lately he’s been questioning whether it’s a natural feeling of hatred, or something more complex. He took a moment to take a deep breath of air as he walked out of the cafe, the air was somehow always fresher at night. “Where are we going now?”
“On a romantic walk. Obviously.” Girls liked this kind of thing. He figured he could basically treat dazai as if he were a tall girl from his reaction at the cafe. “It’s hardly romantic. How did you ever get girls to keep dating you?” He didn’t. If he could he would probably be married by now. “What? Do you want me to hold your hand? Tell you how beautiful you look? It’s hard to be romantic when I remember its you im out with. How am I supposed to know what an enigma like you wants?” There was a beat of silence before Dazai stopped walking and turned to face away from Chuuya, crossing his arms in the process.
What the hell is he doing?
“Hey.” He doesn’t turn. “Oh come on, dont do that.” No response again. He tries to walk over to where Dazai is facing only for him to continue turning so he cant see his face. “Stop.” He holds on to Dazai’s shoulders to stop him from turning, in retaliation Dazai turns his head towards the sky and closes his eyes, arms still crossed tightly, completely rejecting Chuuya’s attempts at communication. “You’re being ridiculous.” Still no movement. “Fine.” Chuuya struggles to uncross Dazai’s arms and pries his fingers apart to interlock them with his own. “Happy?” Dazai’s response comes in the form of leaving the hand that Chuuya is trying to hold fully flexed, not attempting to reciprocate the gesture in the slightest. He’s a lot more like a girl than Chuuya originally thought. So what would make a girl forgive him?
He sighed before bracing himself for what he was about to do. “Hey, don’t be like that” He softened his voice as much as he could using his free hand to reach for Dazai’s face and guide it to look down at him. “You got what you wanted didn’t you?” He caressed his cheek with his thumb and played with his hair until he felt his hand relax and reciprocate the hold Chuuya had on it. Dazai’s face remained contorted in contempt “You’re the absolute worst.” He gripped Chuuyas hand hard and continued walking. “I’ll take your death grip as a sign of you forgiving me.” He could tell that Dazai was having a hard time staying mad at him though his face was still twisted in anger. “Oh whatever.” Dazai’s face returned to its neutral state though he didn’t bother loosening his grip. Their walk continued comfortably and silently, making Chuuyas mind drift to his question at the very start of their date. What was he doing here? The question seemed to evolve the longer he was on this date. Just how exactly did he feel about Dazai? He’s never thought that he felt anything but hatred for him, but suddenly the word feels too simple and un nuanced to properly describe how he feels after so many years together.
And that’s when Dazai says the single worst thing a person could ever say on a first date. “I love you.” Oh my god. “What?” Chuuya instinctively tried to let go of Dazai’s hand but his grip remained tight not letting Chuuya break contact. “What do you mean what? I love you.” Dazai looked at Chuuya with a confused expression as if what he was saying was something obvious that they were both aware of. “Do you not love me??“ Chuuya didn’t know how to respod. “I never said that.” It’s not like he didn’t feel the same, it was a crude confession lacking buildup and preparation for what was supposed to be a crucial moment in their budding relationship. It left him speechless.“Well?” Dazai leaned in closer to hear what Chuuya had to say looking almost anxious to hear his answer, as if he doubted his previous assessment on how Chuuya felt about him. “Okay I love you. But you can’t be doing this.” He pushed Dazai’s face away from his to discourage him from doing something crazier. “Can’t be doing what?” It’s like talking to a wall. “Nothing,” Chuuya sighed “let me walk you home.” There’s no use trying to teach him date etiquette. It’s not like he’ll be having another first date now anyway.
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etoiile · 1 year ago
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MYSTERY MAN
starring itoshi rin!
synopsis: you decide to go watch rin's football practice for the first time, much to his delight. his teammates struggle to figure out who you are and what you've done to their usually very grumpy rin.
requested by @checkoutmyflow! i hope i did your rq justice ^^
notes: first time completing a request! sorry for the wait >.< ALSO this is gn!reader :)
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admittedly, you weren't much of a football fan, even though your boyfriend was a professional college player. you didn't really understand the sport, as you hadn't played it since second grade gym class, but for some reason, you had decided that today, on this sunny tuesday afternoon, you were going to drop by rin's practice alongside a football-for-dummies book to watch and hopefully learn a little about the sport he was so enamored with.
it would appear that they were in the middle of a practice match, as his teammates and him were wearing different colored pennies, and there was someone keeping score on a whiteboard.
you sat down on the bleachers quietly, not wanting to distract anyone from the game. your eyes scanned the field quickly, almost instantly finding rin's unique dark green hair. you tried your best to keep up with what was happening, quickly flipping through your book whenever someone did something cool to try and find it, but it proved to be quite difficult, and you found yourself very confused at the sport's intricacies.
despite your lack of understanding, the one thing you could observe and comprehend was how alive rin looked whilst playing. he was sweating, shit-talking, and scrambling around the field non-stop, clearly very tired, but his eyes had a certain glimmer to them that you didn't get to see often, and he moved around the field with immaculate grace and precision. you watched as he skillfully maneuvered around the field and how he seemed to be able to calculate exactly where his opponent would go. you didn't have to understand the sport to know that this field was a place where itoshi rin shined like no other.
rin took hold of the ball and began dashing across the field with it, his shiny hair blowing behind him. his eyes began darting around the field, his brain taking in and calculating every factor necessary to victory.
his brain certainly didn't expect to see you, his lovely s/o who knows nothing about football, sitting on the bleachers.
your eyes made contact for a brief moment before rin tripped over his own feet and flew forward, making literally everybody on the field stop what they were doing.
a brief moment of silence washed over the field before laughter soon took its place, his teammates jogging over to him asking if he was ok, and what the hell just happened as they howled in mirth.
he grumbled some excuse with red cheeks as he looked away, clearly very mortified. his coach decided to call a break, seeing as everyone had already stopped playing, and he grabbed his water before practically sprinting over to you.
"y/n," he breathed as he came to a stop in front of you, puffing a little from fatigue. "you're here."
you giggled. "hi, rin. i thought i should come watch one of your practices. i want to get to know all the aspects of your life, after all."
he leaned in closer to you to brush his hand against yours as you two chatted a bit. anyone could see the way his eyes softened as you spoke and how his shoulders relaxed at your every move. anyone even being his pretty-damn-stupid team.
in the distance, bachira, isagi, chigiri, nagi, and reo murmured amongst themselves, wondering about who you were - the mystery person mr. im-better-than-you-and-grumpy-all-the-time rin looked so happy to see.
"his sibling, maybe?"
"nah, i'm pretty sure sae is his only sibling."
"oh! what about his parent, then?"
"dude, do you have eyes? way too hot to be a parent."
"his lover, maybe?"
there were a solid 5 seconds of silence before they burst out into laughter once more.
"get out. itoshi rin, an s/o? no way in hell, dude."
"i doubt he could even keep anyone for more than a month. they'd get tired of his attitude real quick and leave just as fast."
"rin-chan probably isn't capable of loving anyone, after all."
despite their adamant denial of your relationship with rin, they could all notice rin's demeanor. he looked happier, more at ease, gentler, kinder, and overall, he looked like a normal person. who were you, and what had you done to their rin?
coach blew his whistle, and they watched as you gestured for him to get back with his team. they then watched with their jaws on the floor as he, itoshi rin, POUTED and SWEETLY PLANTED A KISS on your forehead before jogging off.
they all exchanged looks of pure shock as rin jogged back to them.
they all gave him a shocked look as he raised a brow.
"...what?"
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𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐈𝐋𝐄 ©𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 please do not copy or repost my work on any other site. interactions appreciated! 🤍
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rafeysbunny · 1 month ago
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‧₊˚ ⋅ i'll show you, rafe cameron
stepbro!rafe x fem!reader
masterlist
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synopsis. in which your stepbrother kindly offers to show you porn for the first time.
warnings. stepbro!rafe, innocent!reader (but she's not an airhead), virgin!reader, smut, fingering, rafe putting in just the tip, oral sex (fem receiving), rafe licks his own creampie.
word count. 4k.
author's note. idea by @matts1andonly. english isn't my first language so there might be spelling mistakes, don't hold it against me. enjoy!
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it's past midnight when you finally slide out of your bedroom without making a sound. you have been waiting patiently for your mom and ward to go to bed so you can do this without risking getting caught. wheezie is already asleep too, sarah is out with john b somewhere, and rafe left the house earlier, not telling anyone where to, so you know he's going to arrive late, as always.
it's the perfect moment.
rafe's room is down the hallway, so you make your way there quietly not to wake anyone, your barefoot feet making soft footstep sounds when you walk. once there, you open the door as carefully as you possibly can, knowing it creaks every time it gets open. this time, thanks to god, it does not.
you manage to sneak into the dormitory unnoticed, then shut the door behind you. the place is dark, only a faint glimmer of moonlight coming in through his curtains, but you want to lay low, so you don't turn on the lights. by all means, the dim lighting is enough for you to spot what you're looking for.
rafe's mac, laying there on his desk.
what's the point behind all of this? you might be wondering. well, let me answer you real quick. turns out, this handsome, muscled college guy has invited you on a date. problem is, you have never been on a date. you haven't even hold hands with a guy romantically before, much less kissed or fucked one. you simply refuse to come off as a prude, which honestly you are, but that dream of a man doesn't need to know that.
and that's why you have decided that it is a good idea to break into your stepbrother's bedroom and borrow his laptop, since yours broke last week, to watch porn in it for the first time.
well, now that you hear it out loud, it probably sounded better in your head. anyways...
you stroll towards the desk with languid steps and sit down on rafe's chair, small hands reaching hesitantly to open the laptop. you turn it on and the screen light illuminates your pretty face right away. you swear your fingers are shaking a little bit as you open up the browser and type 'porn videos' on the search bar.
somehow, you feel like you are doing something wrong, and you can't seem to shake the guilt away. either way, you don't back out. you click the enter button and, after just a few seconds, a million search results pop up. honestly, you don't know where to start, so you click on the first one, which redirects you to a website called pornhub.
the home page is full of videos, the first thing to catch your attention being the obscene thumbnails of each one of them. your cheeks flush a deep shade of red. you read some of the titles as you bite your lip nervously, realising most of them contain the word 'stepsister' in them, and you wonder if that is the only content posted on this page.
how innocent of you not to know that the website is making recommendations based on your stepbro's most searched tag.
before things escalate further, you spot rafe's airpods max sitting there on the desk and decide to grab them, connecting them to the laptop and putting them on —this way you can make sure no one overhears anything. after that, you spend a few more minutes scrolling through the page, during which you discover that there's a ton of categories to choose from.
how are you supposed to know which one to pick?
you are so invested in your little research, headphones canceling the noise, that you don't hear neither rafe opening the front door nor him walking up the stairs and, surely, don't notice him standing behind you until he speaks. and it's too late by then.
"the fuck are you doing, sweetheart?" he blurts, complete and utterly shocked to see his naive stepsister fuckin' watching pornhub.
well shit, maybe you aren't as innocent as he thought you were.
you jolt instantly, jumping out of your seat as you feel all the colour draining from your cheeks. no way rafe just caught you in the act. this can't be real. despite how bad you want to run away, you are left with no other choice but to turn around and face him, wishing the earth would swallow you up.
"i– this is not what it looks like, i swear i can explain," you stutter nervously, taking of the airpods with trembling hands. from here on, the anxious rambling begins, "i wasn't doing anything... this guy– well, i... i uhm– i got a date, 'kay? with this guy from class and– listen, i know this is silly, but..."
"jesus christ, baby, slow down, 'kay?" he stops you, his heart nearly melting from how cute you look, so shy and flustered. he almost feels bad for interrupting whatever the hell you were doing here.
the colour has returned to your cheeks, and you are all flushed now, from head to toe. your face feels like it's on fire; you have never been this embarrassed before.
"could you please start over?" he asks, hoping to hear a coherent explanation to why you are in his room, in the middle of the night, and watching porn on his laptop.
you take a deep breath, fidgeting with the hem of your top. you are so deeply ashamed that you don't seem to remember that you are wearing nothing but a flimsy white singlet and a tiny pair of matching panties. rafe's very aware of that fact, though, hungry eyes trailing all over your beautiful body.
"i've got a date with a guy from class," you start explaining, white teeth nibling occasionally on your plump bottom lip, "but i've never dated anyone, ya' know? i've no experience, and i don't want him to think i'm pathetic if we..."
"fuck?" he finishes your sentence, a roguish grin spreading across his handsome face.
if possible, your blush deepens even more at the vulgarity while you mutter a quiet 'yeah' in response.
honestly, he is a bit jealous of that guy. not only you are willing to let him fuck you, but you are also trying to learn how to do it properly so he has a good time doing it. yeez, what a shame for him he is going to kill him as soon as he finds out who he is; there's no chance rafe's letting you near any other man but him.
"i thought, uhm, maybe watching that would help..." you add coyly, his silence making you more nervous.
it is cute how you try to avoid saying words like 'fuck' or 'porn', like it is a crime to pronounce them or something.
"you know what? let's watch it together," he proposes.
there's a mischievous glint in his eyes that doesn't go unnoticed. you swear your cheeks might just explode at any second, and you can't help the pathetic stutter that comes out when you talk. "uhm, i don't think that'd be appropriate," you refuse, shaking your head.
"why not? you want help, and i can help you here, sweetheart," he answers, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle —unlike rafe, "that's what big brothers are for, aren't they?"
he takes a few steps in his direction until he is standing right beside you. then, he grabs the laptop in his large hands as he flashes you a wicked smirk, his curtain bangs falling messily on his forehead. you gulp, having him so close makes you feel a certain way; you cannot deny that.
"you, uhm, being my stepbrother is exactly why not," you stammer as you tilt your head back to look at him, his height towering over you.
"bullshit," he retorts, huffing. "you trust me?"
your first mistake is, probably, trusting rafe cameron. "yeah, i do, but..."
"that's why 'm perfect for the job, baby," he interrupts you. his words are clearly intended to manipulate you, but you are way too innocent to notice it, "i'm probably the guy you feel most comfortable with, aren't i? i can give ya' all the advice you need."
to be fair, he isn't wrong about that. you don't have any male friends, and you are honestly too embarrassed to ask your girlfriends for help on this department, not wanting them to think less of you. plus, rafe is a guy; he knows better what guys like, right?
"wouldn't it be kinda... weird ?" you ask, clearly hesistant.
"weird?" he repeats. "no, 'course not."
only a few more sweet, reassuring words is all it takes for him to gently coax you into watching his favourite pornos with him. his cock starts to harden in his pants just at the thought of having you like that. when you finally accept, he swears he's on cloud nine.
god, he's been wanting you for months now; he can't believe this is happening.
"c'mere, baby," he eagerly instructs you, getting on his bed.
he sits with his back resting on the headboard and pats the spot between his legs to invite you to sit there. he places the laptop next to him, the pornhub website still open on it. you move slowly towards him, cheeks slightly flushed from the embarrassment as you settle on the mattress in between his parted thighs, your back pressed to his hard chest.
he wraps one strong arm securely around your waist, his hand coming to rest gently on your tummy. with his other hand, he reaches for the laptop sitting beside him, carefully bringing it closer so the two of you can see the screen properly.
your heart is beating so fast in your chest that he can probably hear it, too. the way he is touching you is not making it easier for you to stay calm, either, his fingers tenderly tracing patterns on your belly over the thin fabric of your shirt while he scrolls through the page.
he seems to sense your discomfort and chuckles low in his throat, his warm breath tickling your ear. "relax, sis," he whispers teasingly, his voice laced with amusement. "i'm not gonna make you watch anything that'll traumatize you."
"it's just– this is a bad idea," you babble, fidgeting nervously when he finally clicks on a video and a pretty young woman appears on screen.
the actress is beautiful; she has a gorgeous body and face. her lips are full and pink, and she has these big, expressive eyes that appear to gleam. and you don't realize it, but she looks exactly like you.
the scene starts playing; in it, the girl is watching some movie with a guy that, apparently, is her roommate —at least that's what the title says.
"shhh..." he hushes you softly, his voice barely audible over the sounds emanating from his laptop's speakers. "just watch. don't overthink it."
"okay," you answer between gritted teeth.
your pretty eyes are fixed on the laptop while you try not to cringe at how bad the script and acting are, which is nearly impossible, to be honest. despite that, you keep watching in silence as the video plays, growing more flustered as the clock ticks.
you didn't know mouths could be used for that... interesting.
as opposed to you, rafe's pretty chill behind you, like he's unbothered by this whole situation —he's actually hard as fuck inside his pants, the thing is you haven't noticed. you wonder how he can act so unfazed, since you keep pushing your thighs together to try and soothe the throbbing sensation building in between them while you take in the lewd actions occurring on screen.
you weren't expecting your body to have this reaction, and now you don't know what to do to make it stop.
rafe soon becomes aware of the way you keep letting out soft sighs and squirming in his arms, plush ass rubbing against his cock every time you do it. it's a miracle he is still holding back, though he doesn't know how much time he will be able to.
he's not even paying attention to the video anymore, his entire focus put on you. he finally ventures to lean in, his hot breath grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "you know, i could do that to you..." his hand slowly slides to your plush thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
his movements are measured and controlled not to scare you, but your breath hitches in your chest at his actions either way, body tensing up in his grasp. your brain is telling you to push him away, but the insistent throb in your sex doesn't like that idea, not one bit.
"you– you could?" you utter quietly, not taking your eyes away from the laptop.
rafe notices the uncertainty in your voice, but the way you haven't pushed him away yet emboldens him to continue, his large hand gradually sliding north.
"yeah, baby," he murmurs huskily against your ear, fingertips brushing along your inner thigh. "i could put my fingers inside you, just like he's doing to her..."
his words make you blush heavily as a little gasp is released from your pouty lips. "would it feel good?" you ask naively.
your eyes are transfixed in the sight of the guy on the screen pushing his fingers inside the girl's pussy. god, she seems like she's enjoying it so much... and you desperately want to feel like that too. you can't even bring yourself to care that it's your stepbrother offering to show you.
rafe's fingers creep higher and higher until they're barely brushing against your cotton panties. "yeah," he growls huskily against your ear, "it'd feel real good, sweetheart. i promise..."
you shudder, a sweet little mewl escaping your throat involuntarily. you can't help but blush at your own reaction, slightly embarrassed by it. you tear your eyes away from the screen, head falling back against his chest as you look up at him.
"it's throbbing, rafe..." you whine, self-control slipping from your hands. "can you make it better?"
rafe's fingers finally make contact with your wet underwear, pressing against your clit through the fabric. he rubs gentle circles around your sensitive nub, his other hand curling around your supple thigh to spread your legs wider.
"oh, baby, you're soaked through your panties..." he pants out.
your body literally melts into his touch like butter, perfectly shaped brows knitting together in a frown of pleasure. the girl in the video moans, and you do too, both sounds echoing in the silence of his room.
taking your moan as an invitation, rafe carefully hooks his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, exposing your sopping cunt to the cool air of his bedroom. then, he traces your wet slit slowly, leisurely, as if savoring the velvety feel of your skin.
"such a pretty little pussy..." he praises, eyes hungrily taking in the pink expanse of flesh.
you squirm and let out a soft whimper, biting your lip right after to avoid keep making noises; the last thing you want is to wake up your parents or wheezie. rafe notices your struggle and swiftly reaches up to cover your mouth with his free hand, muffling your sweet moans.
he gathers some of the wetness dripping out of your cunt before trailing his fingers all the way up to your clit, rubbing it gently. your eyes roll back, hips bucking up against his hand instinctively. the way your swollen bud throbs beneath his fingertips is going to make you mad. he begins to touch your clit in fast, tight circles, his other hand still holding your mouth shut to keep you quiet.
he leans in to whisper against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, "if you make a sound, i'll stop, got it?"
you nod obediently in response, making your best effort to comply; you don't want him to stop doing this, never. as a reward, rafe slides a thick finger down your slit and presses it against your clenched entry, steadily applying pressure until your tight muscles finally give in and allow his digit ingress.
"so fuckin' tight," he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his finger.
withdrawing his finger almost all the way out, he teases your entrance with the tip, making you tremble with anticipation before pushing it back in to the knuckle, his palm cupping your mound as he starts to thrust in a smooth, lazy rhythm. you swallow a whiny cry while your eyelids flutter shut, pretty face scrunched in a blissful expression.
rafe works his finger in and out of your slick pussy slowly, marveling at how your velvety walls flutter around the digit. he curls it inward, searching for that special spot that's guaranteed to drive you wild.
after a few experimental pokes, rafe's fingertip finally brushes over your g-spot, eliciting a muffled moan from under his palm. he smiles wickedly against your skin, and you shudder in his grasp, pleasure waves running through your body.
"that's it, sweetheart... feel good?" he croons softly, fingering you nice and deep.
you can't bring yourself to reply, the sensation of his large digit fucking your pussy, added to the constant rubbing of his palm against your puffy clit has your mind feeling all fuzzy. your body language is the only answer he needs, though.
rafe leans in to tenderly nip at your neck, his hot mouth latching onto your slender throat as he keeps pumping his finger steadily in and out of your dripping cunt. he knows you're close when he feels your inner muscles starting to clench erratically around his digit.
"rafe," you moan onto his palm as you feel this new, strange sensation building in your tummy, pussy tingling so nicely.
heaven help him. hearing you, his stepsister, moan his name like that makes rafe's hard dick throb almost painfully against his zipper.
and then it happens. the coil in your belly suddenly snaps and you have to bite onto your lip harshly to keep yourself from screaming as you cum for the very first time, on your stepbrother's hand. rafe continues to pump his finger in and out of your spasming cunt as you ride out your climax, wanting to prolong your pleasure.
when you finally come down from your high, you're all shaky and flustered in his arms, panting heavily to try and catch your breath. he has a satisfied smirk on his lips while he slowly withdraws his slick digit from your quivering hole to bring it up to his mouth and lick it clean, savoring your taste.
"did so well for me, baby," he coos as he uncovers your mouth, gently turning your head to the side to press a kiss to your swollen, red lips.
you return it sloppily, eyes fluttering shut in the process, and you sigh contently against his mouth. he can't help but rock his hips against your ass, rubbing his hard on against you.
"did i make you feel good?" he asks between little kisses, his breathing growing uneven. you nod in response. "yeah? then it's just fair you make me feel good too, sweetheart... wanna do that f'me?"
"yes," you whisper against his lips without even thinking, feeling him smirk into the kiss.
"such a good girl," he praises.
at some point, the porn video playing on his laptop ended, so he simply closes it up and tosses it away, the device landing somewhere on his king size bed. then, he turns you both around, until you are laying on the mattress and he is on top of you.
he is quick to undo his pants and yank them down, just enough to free his raging hard on, which bounces against his abs. let me tell you this, he's big, the tip pink and fat, already leaking precum.
suddenly, realization hits you. this is your stepbrother for god's sake, are you really gonna let him fuck you?
he notices how your body tenses up, one hand reaching to stroke your plush thigh reassuringly while the other wraps around his shaft, giving it a slow pump.
"hey, baby, relax..." he whispers gently, "i'll put just the tip in, yeah? there's nothing wrong with that."
you hesitate. his strong arms slide beneath your legs to tug you closer. then his cock brushes your pussy and you whimper. how are you supposed to say 'no' ?
it's just the tip.
"mhmm, 'kay" you end up agreeing with a little nod.
rafe flashes you a lopsided smirk, his hand gripping his cock again while the free one yanks your panties aside once more. keeping eye contact, he slowly glides the fat head of his dick up and down your drenched slit, coating it thoroughly in your arousal. you shudder as his tip eventually meets your puffy clit, the gentle rubbing sending shivers down your spine.
"rafe," you whimper.
rafe's eyelids droop, a low hum of pleasure escaping his throat as he continues to slowly drag the reddened head up and down your chubby pussy lips with squelching sounds. his breathing grows heavier the longer he teasingly rolls it against your slick folds, reveling in your breathy whimpers. he feels like he's about to burst already, pre-cum steadily leaking from the tip and onto your flesh.
he can't fucking take this anymore.
with a slow, gentle thrust, he sinks his cock into your warm, slippery pussy, just the head breaching your entrance before he pauses, savoring the initial penetration. his eyes lock onto yours, his pupils blown wide with lust.
"jesus, fuck." he grunts.
your cunt starts fluttering around him. he has barely slided the first two inches in, as he promised, but he's so thick that even that feels like a tight fit. you let out a moan, which mingles with a strained groan from rafe as your velvety walls clench tightly around his swollen cockhead.
"gonna– might just nut already, shit" rafe mutters through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to just drive forward and hilt himself deep. "so goddamn tight."
your hips buck unconsciously against his, making him slip in just a tad further —which nearly makes him lose all his self-control. somehow, he manages to keep his shit together, hips rocking slowly to thrust in and out of you while his veiny hand strokes the rest of his shaft.
you're totally enthralled by the sight, liquid heat pooling in your belly while you watch him use your body for his pleasure. he looks so good, you can't believe he's real. your chest fills with pride at the knowledge that you're making this greek god feel good.
this is the fastest rafe has ever cum, the movement of his hips becoming jerky and sloppy after a few minutes as he spills his sperm inside you. he's panting heavily, sweat beading on his brow while his fist squeezes the base of his cock tightly.
you're left wanting more when he slowly pulls out, pussy stretched out and leaking white spurts of cum. he gazes down at you with a smirk, lightly tapping the head of his dick against your swollen clit, which has you writhing beneath him.
"so fuckin' gorgeous stuffed full of my cum," he whispers, his cock smearing the sticky substance all over your slit. you mewl in response. "hmm, 'm sorry for making such a mess on your pretty pussy, sweetheart, lemme clean it up, yeah?"
you blush in response when he leans forward, throwing your creamy thighs over his broad shoulders, to put his mouth onto your sex. you almost cry at the heavenly feeling, his playful tongue delving between your folds to lap up his own release. he cleans you up thoroughly, only to mess you up again right after, his spit soaking your cunt as he makes you cum again.
after tonight, you are cancelling that date, that's for sure.
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fastandcarlos · 1 month ago
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Wedding Nerves : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: it's the night before your wedding and lando can't bare to spend it all alone
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Your head shook as another knock at the door came, knowing exactly who was on the other side. You tried your best to ignore it as you unpacked your suitcase, but they were ever so persistent, knocking once again. 
“Lando, you shouldn’t be here,” you called out, walking over to the door. “You can stand there all night long but I’m not opening the door. The boys will all be wondering where you are.” 
“I don’t care abou them,” Lando replied, leaning against the other side of the door. “I just want to see you one last time before tomorrow, just a couple of minutes, that’s all that I’m asking for.” 
Your eyes closed as you leant on the door, hearing Lando sigh. His voice was desperate as he tapped on the door once again, letting you know that he was still there. You could only smile at how determined Lando was, refusing to go without seeing you. 
“You’ll get to see me forever after tomorrow,” you tried to assure him, “it’s only one night away from each other, we’ve done it hundreds of times before.” 
Lando’s head shook, “this time it’s different, it’s our wedding morning tomorrow.” 
“Why are you here Lando?” You groaned, beginning to think that there was more to things than he was letting on. “Something’s not gone wrong, has it?” 
His head shook, remembering that you couldn’t see him. “I spoke to George and he said Carmen told him that you were feeling nervous. I wanted to come and see you and make sure that you were alright, I don’t want you to be nervous, you should be excited.” 
“I am excited,” you responded, dropping down to the floor, “tomorrow is just such a big deal, and there’s so many people going to be there. I hate having all that attention on me, that’s all.” 
Lando remained where he was, only wanting to see you more now that he knew how you felt, keen to settle your nerves and reassure you not to worry. 
“Let me see you and just give you a hug,” Lando requested, tapping the door once again. “We’re fine to see each other, tradition is only tomorrow morning, not that either of us really care about that anyway.” 
The sound of the lock turning made Lando jump up, watching as you opened the door slightly. It was wide enough for Lando to see you, but not open enough for him to be able to reach in and hold onto you. 
“Lando, I promise you that I’m absolutely fine. Go and enjoy your evening.” 
“I can’t see well enough to be sure,” he grinned, refusing to give up quite that easily, trying to push the door to fit his hand through it. “What’s the point of just letting me see a bit of you, why not just open the door all the way?” 
“Because once you’re here I know you won’t go away,” you chuckled. 
Lando’s eyes widened at your assumption, shaking his head in reply to you. The smile on his face told you otherwise though, you knew exactly what he was up to, and once he was in, there was no way that he was going to be walking back out again. 
You tried your best to keep the door shut, but Lando was far stronger than you were, digging his heels into the ground and pushing the door open, stumbling over his feet and falling straight into your hotel room. 
“Serves you right,” you grinned, offering your hand to help him up.  
Lando stood himself up and straightened his clothes before heading in your direction. His arms wrapped around your frame as he tightly held you against his chest, pressing several kisses against the top of your head, refusing to let go now that he had a hold of you. 
Lando kicked the door to your hotel room shut, keeping you in his hold as he walked you both over to your bed, dropping down in the middle of it with you by his side, making himself comfortable like he was there for the night. 
After a few moments, Lando’s hand trailed along your back. “There’s no need to worry about tomorrow you know, it’s going to be perfect, I’m sure of it.” 
With all the efforts you and Lando had put in, you knew there was no reason to worry, there was no chance of anything going wrong. You had the perfect place, perfect theme, and everyone who you wanted to attend was doing so, there was nothing more you could ask for. 
“Maybe if you are nervous, it might be a good idea for me to stay here,” Lando added, catching your eyes roll. “I mean we both know how much it helps when you sleep next to me when you’re worrying, so it makes perfect sense, right?” 
“I’m not going to let you stay,” you said, quickly shutting Lando down. 
Lando hummed in reply to you, “we both know how this is going to work, I’m going to wear you down until you say yes, you know that, don’t you?” 
“Nope,” you laughed, “I refuse to cave tonight, you’ll be gone soon.” 
“You’ll have to get rid of me,” Lando told you, “and judging by your hand against my chest, I’d say that you’re pretty happy for me to stay a while still yet.” 
You quickly moved your hand off of Lando’s chest, shuffling across the bed to create some distance between you both. Lando looked at you in surprise, trying to move back towards you again, only for you to move back too. 
“It’s going to be a pretty rubbish stag do if you’re not there,” you reminded him, standing up from the bed. “Plus, you only said that you wanted a couple of minutes of my time.” 
“I don’t need a stupid stag do, not when I could spend my night with you instead,” Lando sighed, sitting up in the middle of the bed. “Do you really actually want me to go?” 
You tried to ignore the little voice in your head telling Lando to stay, nodding your head. You didn’t want him to miss out on his stag do, the party that he had been looking forward to for so long. 
“I should probably go,” Lando pouted, sliding off of the bed. His shoulders hung low, his feet dragging along the floor dejectedly. “But all you have to do is give me a call and I’ll forget all about the boys tonight and rush straight over here to be with you instead.” 
“Go on,” you grinned, opening up the door. “I’ll be alright without you for one night.” 
Lando stood in the doorway, turning back to face you one final time, letting you see just how disappointed he was that you were making him leave. 
“In five years, I think this is the first time you’ve declined to spend the night with me,” Lando mused, “and the night before my wedding too.” 
“I’m not declining to spend the night with you,” you protested, “this is what we agreed on, you’re going to be stuck with me for the rest of your life after tomorrow anyway.” 
“I can’t believe it,” Lando smiled, “the rest of our lives together.” 
“Only if you go,” you teased, pushing Lando out of the door. “Go and enjoy your evening, I’ll see you tomorrow Lando.” 
“I can’t wait to marry you sweetheart.” 
“I know, me too Lan.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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whisperofwonder · 4 months ago
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Continuation of this
fem!reader x Kuroo Tetsurou
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You smile at your reflection in the mirror as your maid of honor tucks one wayward strand of hair back into your updo. In less than an hour, you'll be walking down the aisle. You wonder what Tetsurou's face will look like when he sees you. You wonder if he'll cry. He'd insisted he wouldn't, but, well.
"You look so gorgeous!" One of your bridesmaids breathes, and truthfully, you'd have to agree with her. The hair dresser and makeup artist have worked their magic, and you'd found the absolute perfect dress. Now, all that's left is to wait until the ceremony begins.
Your friends' fawning over you is interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Yes?" Your maid of honor moves to stand by the closed door, hand hovering over the handle.
"Babe," The voice belongs to none other than your soon-to-be husband, and you instinctively cross your arms over your front, even though the door is still firmly closed. He can't see you before the wedding!
"I need you to tie my tie!" You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"You know how to tie a tie," You call back carefully. "Just do it yourself!"
"But you always tie my tie." His voice is the next thing to a whine.
You sigh. "Where's Kenma?" Surely his best man didn't allow this. You wonder how he managed to slip away.
"Kenma is 'sick of my shit'," He intones, and you can practically hear the words in Kenma's voice. You sympathize. "Baby. My love. Please." He's begging now, and you can't help it. You start to soften.
Your maid of honor is looking at you with wide eyes, slashing her hand across her throat in a clear gesture: NO. You love her for that, but still.
"You'll close your eyes?" You ask in your sternest voice. "You can't see me, you know! It's bad luck."
"Yes, I'll close my eyes! Promise."
"Close them TIGHT," You insist, making sure he understands the gravity of the situation.
"They're tight," He promises. "Open the door already."
You nod. Your maid of honor hesitates for a few moments, but slowly swings the door open with a shake of her head.
There he is. Tetsurou. Your fiancé. In less than an hour, your husband. You feel your heart begin to swell in your chest. He wears a suit every day, but he looks especially handsome in this one. The tie in question is draped loosely around his neck.
"Babe?" He has his eyes squeezed shut, that much is obvious. As an added measure, your maid of honor pulls him inside and moves behind him, pressing her fingers across his eyes.
"Go ahead," She sighs. You reach for the tie, carefully straightening it around his neck. You reach for his collar, making sure it's turned up all the way around, and you watch as a smile begins to tug at his lips.
"I'm so excited," He murmurs as you work. "Can't wait to see you." The fingers covering his eyes tighten.
"Me too," You can't help the smile that's stealing across your own face. "I can't wait."
You begin making the knot, enjoying the dopey grin that's now completely filled his face. "There you go," You finally say, giving the knot a pat. "Perfect." Like always, you tug on the tie, just a little. Tilting your chin up, you lean into his kiss, savoring the feeling of it.
"I love you so much," He murmurs as he pulls away. "Thank you."
"I love you too, Tetsu." You take a step back, just drinking him in. "I'll see you soon."
He opens his mouth, but before he can drag the moment out any longer, your maid of honor steps in. "Okay, lovebirds, that's enough." She pulls him back. "Get back to wherever you're supposed to be. I'll kill you if you mess this up," She threatens sweetly.
"Yes ma'am," He murmurs as she shoves him back through the door, slamming it shut nearly in his face.
"You two make me sick," She sighs. The mushy smile on her face doesn't match her words at all. "Come here, let me touch up your lipstick."
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kateschi · 1 month ago
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where pride meets love
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synopsis: in a u.a. highschool reunion, your husband is up next in introducing his family.
pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader
⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: inspired by @call-memissbrightside
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the gymnasium at u.a. is alive with activity, filled with faculty, students, and heroes from all walks of life.
katsuki’s standing near the back, holding your baby girl in his arms, her tiny hands clutching at the fabric of his hero uniform, her eyes wide as she takes in everything around her.
his expression is a mix of annoyance—because honestly, this whole “family introduction” thing is a bit much—and tenderness, which only those closest to him will ever notice.
you stand beside him, your hand resting on his arm, and for a split second, you catch a glimpse of something different in his usual scowl—something soft.
you’ve seen it before, but only in moments like this, when he’s looking at the little life in his arms or the family he’s built.
principal nezu steps forward with a polite clap of his paws.
“thank you all for coming! we’re glad to have so many wonderful alumni here today. if anyone with families would like to introduce them, now’s your chance.”
the crowd goes quiet, waiting for someone to step up. katsuki glares around, crossing his arms over his chest, but it’s obvious he’s trying to look disinterested in the attention he’s about to receive.
it doesn’t work, though. he feels all eyes on him, even before nezu directs them that way.
you give him a small smile, teasing him with a gentle nudge to his side. “you ready to show your family off?”
he scoffs but doesn’t pull away. instead, his gaze softens just a little when he looks down at your daughter, who smiles up at him with those same bright eyes you both adore so much.
his chest swells, and despite his usual gruffness, his pride is impossible to hide.
you feel it too—the silent understanding between the two of you, the knowledge that this moment, in front of everyone, is just another reflection of how far your life together has come.
with a sigh, katsuki straightens his back, shoulders broadening as he stands a little taller. “alright, fine. let’s get this over with,” he mutters under his breath. but then he clears his throat, lifting his chin just a bit.
he shifts his daughter against his shoulder, gently adjusting her so she’s more comfortable in his arms, and with a look at you that says, here we go, he raises his voice for everyone to hear.
“this—” he gestures to your baby, her tiny hands reaching for him in her usual, curious way—“this is my kickass baby.”
he flashes a rare smile down at her, the kind that could melt the hardest of hearts, before pulling you into him with his free arm, draping it over your shoulders.
“and this here,” he says, puffing his chest out slightly, “this is my kickass wife, y/n. the best damn woman in the world.”
you catch his eye, and for a brief moment, it feels like the whole room has faded away. there’s only the two of you, standing side by side, as he proudly introduces you to everyone in his own way.
a few of the students near the front start whispering to each other, smiles on their faces. kirishima, always the supportive friend, claps katsuki on the back, his grin wide.
"man, you really went all out with the family introduction, huh?" kirishima laughs, his voice loud enough for katsuki to hear.
katsuki looks over at him, narrowing his eyes, but there’s no malice in his gaze.
instead, it’s just the usual katsuki way of pretending to be annoyed. “shut it,” he growls, but his hand tightens around yours.
kirishima raises his hands in mock surrender, still chuckling. “I’m just saying, you’re looking like a proud family man.”
“damn right I am,” katsuki mutters, his gaze falling back on your daughter, who is now gripping his finger as she babbles in her own little way.
his eyes soften again, a rare, unguarded moment that no one else seems to notice, but you do.
you always do.
as the buzz in the room continues around them, katsuki’s gaze remains fixed on your daughter, his lips pulling into the smallest of smiles as he watches her reach for his hand.
she’s talking—if you can call it that—her baby words tumbling out like she’s already got something important to say.
you can hear the quiet adoration in katsuki’s voice when he responds to her, low and soft, “yeah, yeah, I hear ya, kid.”
you lean into his side, the warmth of his arm around your shoulders feeling like home. it’s one of those moments where everything feels right.
amid the chaos, in front of so many people, katsuki looks just like the dad you always knew he’d be—strong, protective, and completely head over heels for the tiny person in his arms.
the crowd slowly starts to disperse, some students moving towards the refreshment table, others chatting amongst themselves.
katsuki stays still, barely noticing the shift in the room. his eyes stay locked on your baby, a tiny, content smile playing at the edges of his lips.
“want me to take her?” you ask, nudging him gently with your elbow. “you look like you could use a break.”
katsuki looks down at your daughter, his arms tightening ever so slightly around her. she stares up at him, her big eyes soft and trusting, and for a brief second, it seems like time stands still.
then, just as quickly, he shakes his head, but the fondness in his gaze remains.
“nah,” he mutters gruffly. “she’s good here. I’m fine.”
you let out a small chuckle and settle against him, your hand resting gently on his arm as you watch your daughter settle down against his chest, a soft yawn escaping her lips.
katsuki pulls her a little closer, his other arm winding around you, bringing you both in.
the way his grip tightens around both of you, the way his hand moves just a little bit to the back of your neck, drawing you in closer.
you rest your cheek against his shoulder, and the sound of the crowd fades to the background.
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kofi — navigation — masterlist
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do not copy, translate, or plagarize
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amazinglyashy · 2 months ago
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Hi hi I just found your blog like an hour ago and I’ve been scrolling and am obsessed with the way you write for the l&ds!! ❤️❤️ if you don’t mind I love a little angst and was wondering if you could write the boys reacting to MC showing up at their doorstep heavily injured from like a fight with a wanderer.
Oh my gosh thank you!!! And I don't mind at all, my friends make fun of me for how much I enjoy hurt/comfort and angst :'D Thank you for the request!
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LaDS men react to you appearing on their doorstep, injured and bleeding
Xavier -
If you end up at his door, it's more than likely because your unconscious decided to hit the button for his floor rather than your own. You just wanted to get home, not bother anyone, but he's stood right there. Having just come home from grabbing a late night snack from a nearby convenience store, you stumbled out of the elevator right as he's unlocking his front door.
He drops his keys and his bag.
It's a good thing too, because your legs gave out right then, so it's much better for him to catch you if his arms are free.
He's calling your name, and while you're still conscious, you're not really processing anything anymore. You're in too much shock, and you've lost too much blood by now.
He'll get the door unlocked and rush you inside his apartment, setting you down on his couch as he runs for a first aid kit, calling the association for emergency services while he does so.
"You're going to be okay. I promise. Just continue to breathe, alright?"
Xavier doesn't know if he's saying that to comfort you or himself, but he also isn't stopping to think about it, as he rapidly administers first aid to your wounds to at least slow the bleeding until help can arrive.
It's three in the morning but he's wide awake sitting next to your bed at the hospital, something unnatural for someone so sleep deprived usually.
He can't bring himself to shut his eyes though.
It's not work the risk.
Not until you wake up first.
Zayne -
It's like his brain splits into two the moment that he sees you standing there.
One side is his medical knowledge rushing forward as he moves to catch you as your feet stumble beneath you, trying to impossibly assess the extent of the damage before even getting to see it all. It's the half that's taking you to his kitchen table, because it's the easiest workspace for him right now. The one that's pulling out his doctor's bag from the closet in the hall, and the first aid kit from the cupboard in the kitchen as he cuts your shirt open.
The other side?
Oh honey, his heart is breaking.
If you think there's a day at work where he doesn't pray to any existent or nonexistent god that he doesn't see you today, spread out on a gurney or operating table without warning due to your unconscious state, then you'd be painfully wrong.
It's amazing how well he works while panicking on the inside, his skilled hands patching your wounds after meticulous sterilization, any sutures needed placed perfectly even through your pained groans tugging at his heart.
He knows he needs to get you to the hospital, even though he's taken good care of you in his own home. But he needs to sink to the floor for a minute, his back dragging against the wall as he heaves a deep sigh. It's a heavy toll feeling the stick of the dried blood on his hands- your blood on his hands.
With all his knowledge, he knows you'll be okay. He knows he himself will be okay. But right now-
He's not.
Sylus -
The N109 zone is beyond dangerous, mostly due to the criminals and leeches lurking in the dark shadows, but there's also no shortage of Wanderers, including ones that have been genetically altered to be even worse than they normally were.
So when Sylus sees you stumbling at his doorstep, bloodied hand reaching for the knob as he glances at the camera feed, he's not sure he could say he's ever moved so fast in his life otherwise. "Sweetie-" He breathes, as he catches you, scooping you up and rushing you inside as quickly as he possibly can without aggravating your already extensive injuries.
Luke is already running for first aid, and Kieran is already contacting the doctor. Mephisto is shrieking in the hall as he follows Sylus to his bedroom, protesting the fact that Sylus had needed him for surveillance of a target today instead of watching you.
Sylus knows.
He knows this is his fault.
If he had had someone keeping an eye on you, this wouldn't have happened.
His eyes are glued to your barely conscious form in his arms, the guilt in the recesses of his heart digging deeper with every slather of red that painted your skin.
Sorry to say, you're going to have your work cut out for you when you wake up. It's going to take a lot of heavy lifting on your part to convince him that he's not at fault for what happened to you.
And you will be waking up.
Sylus will make sure of that.
Rafayel -
Don't make his nightmares a reality.
Not again.
He's catching you before you can even begin to sway, and he'll be lucky if he remembers to shut the door behind him, his body melding against yours as he picks you up and runs down to his car.
"No, no no no. You stay awake, cutie."
He's definitely breaking at least a dozen laws just trying to get you to Akso hospital as quickly as he can. His mind is racing as fast as his car is moving down the streets, wondering what could have happened to you, what he should be doing right now, if he should have administered first aid to you before taking off-
But he's there so fast, it would have been nearly identical on the clock regardless of him still choosing to rush you to the hospital, or run to get and administer first aid for you from within his home.
He's there until you wake up- wide awake no matter how long it takes. It could be minutes, hours, days- he can't sleep. The image of you dying before him- the image of you standing on his doorstep as well- etched on the back of his eyelids every time he tried to close his eyes.
He talks to you even when you're not awake, stroking your hand, your cheek, the side of your neck- trying to make sure you're as comfortable as he can make you.
When you wake up again, he has to hold himself back with everything in him from squeezing you too tightly. He doesn't want to burst your stitches or harm you, but his body and arms are all-encompassing on you as he hugs you firmly, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
He really doesn't need you to see him cry.
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katsukimybf · 2 months ago
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bc all i think abt is college!katsuki
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Katsuki Bakugou is the epitome of the type of friend where you don’t actually know if you are friends.
It started off slow and gradual; a head nod when you sat next to him in class for the first time. You didn’t think much of it at first—just Bakugou being Bakugou, cold and distant as can be. But then came the day the professor prompted the class to discuss the reading with the person next to you. Oh boy.
Distant caves would be jealous of him as he offered impressive silence. He sat there with his arms crossed, glaring at the textbook like it had personally offended him. You tried your best to speak about the text, feeling the weight of his weightless replies, and occasionally he’d grunt or nod, but the conversation resembled your middle school talent show performance. Awkward, yes, but not surprising for a college class.
Still, you found yourself sitting next to him every couple of days, the unspoken rules of college and assigned seating habits pulling you back into his orbit. You tried to be kind, offering small talk here and there, but Bakugou always brushed you off with a grunt or a glare. He was prickly, always on edge, and you figured that was just how he was.
You were like this too on most days. After having your fair share of college-creep experiences you laid off the whole talking to people bit. But there was this exception you made for Bakugou. Not an exception but a curiosity of some sorts. Hell, you also were never good at math but you were on edge to solve the missing variable that is Katsuki Bakugou. Seriously, what's his deal?
Maybe it was the way he didn’t care of how he seemed, it could be the mystery or maybe it was just the fact he looked like he was carved by Lysippos sitting by you at 9 a.m. lecture. Those thoughts were in the back of your mind… you even wonder if Bakugo is good at math? maybe then he could help.
But then there were these odd moments, moments where his usual gruffness gave way to something else. Like the day you mentioned how thirsty you were, sitting there in that old, sweltering classroom with no air conditioning. Bakugou rolled his eyes, muttered something about “are you always unprepared?” (he lent you a pen once before) but then wordlessly reached into his bag and handed you a water bottle.
“Thanks,” you say, trying to match his nonchalant demeanor. Trying to let it go.
But the gesture stuck with you. He didn’t acknowledge it, didn’t say anything more. He just went back to his notebook like nothing happened. Typical. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of slight butterflies in your stomach, even if you tried to brush them off as nothing.
Things continued in much the same way. Bakugou, still gruff and abrasive, but every now and then, something would slip through the cracks. A quiet moment of consideration, a begrudging act of kindness. He never let you get too close, but there was always that flicker of kindness. Of Bakugou. The real him, you think.
It was a rainy afternoon when you found yourself stranded at a bus stop with him. The two of you had just finished class, and the rain came out of nowhere, pouring down in quick splatters. You both stood under the narrow shelter that barely helped. Bakugou was glaring up like he was challenging the sky to a duel while his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
He didn’t acknowledge you at first. And you didn’t think he would.
“You’re gonna catch a cold standing out here,” he grumbled suddenly, his voice low and annoyed.
Before you could reply, he was already shrugging off his jacket and, without looking at you, shoved it in front of you. He urged you to take it but you blinked in surprise, not knowing how to react.
But then, you felt the weight of the jacket warm and heavy on your skin. The scent of him—something sharp and clean—lingered in the fabric.
“Bakugou, you don’t have to—”
“Shut up. I don’t need your thanks,” he muttered, not meeting your gaze. He chose to stare at the rain instead.
“Thank you.”
He rolled his eyes but from that moment, something shifted. The dynamic between you two wasn’t any less tense, and he still barked at you when you got on his nerves, but the hostility had softened, just a little. There was still sharpness in his words, but now mixed in with these brief, unexpected moments of kindness? (for Bakugou, normal for everyone else)
The day before your big exam, you sat next to him in class, anxiety buzzing in your stomach. “Are you ready for tomorrow?” you asked, peeking over at him.
“Yeah,” he grunted, eyes not leaving his textbook.
You turned back to your seat, mentally patting yourself on the back for initiating (yet another) pointless conversation. But then, after a pause, Bakugou spoke again.
“Wanna review the material after class?”
You blinked, a little caught off guard, but quickly nodded. “Sure.”
And so after class, he led the way to the library, not even waiting for you to catch up. He moved with purpose, his sharp eyes scanning the room for a quiet, secluded spot. When he finally sat down and pulled out his notes, you were surprised to see how meticulously organized everything was—color-coded, labeled, every detail in its place. So he probably is good at math? You were definitely getting somewhere.
He started drilling you with questions, breaking down complicated concepts with a precision you hadn’t expected. His intensity was relentless, but it pushed you to focus, to work harder, and slowly, your understanding of the material started to click into place.
Hours passed in a blur, and the sun began to set outside the windows. The two of you were still going over definitions when Bakugou glanced over at you. “You get it now?”
“Yeah,” you said, a small smile on your lips. “Thanks, Bakugou.”
“Good,” he muttered, turning back to his notes, but something about the way he said it felt less harsh than usual.
But all this time of him testing you made you want to test him. Probably because you suspected how sexy he’d look getting every question right…
You smirked, feeling a little bold. “Aw, not you caring if I understand the material.”
He shot you a glare and his face twitched like he was holding back a grin. “I don’t,” he snapped, though his tone lacked the usual bite.
“You just looked so damn scared earlier, it was pathetic.”
You faked a small gasp at that. He wanted to laugh.
“Aww, are you worried about me being sad?” you teased, leaning in a little closer. “It’s almost like we’re friends or something.”
“Shut up,” he growled, his face turning slightly red.
That’s not a no, you think. You laughed, the sound light in the quiet library, and for the first time, you saw a hint of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, barely there, but real.
Quaint and underneath all his surroundings lied Bakugou Katsuki. Almost as if he were labeled X in some math problem.
So yeah… he’s cold and mean and gruff, but… you know he has your back with exams… and when you’re cold, and when you say you're thirsty, and when you need something nice to look at. Definitely, Katsuki Bakugou is your friend…
That happens to have a massive crush on you.
(… and unashamedly, so do you.)
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hoffmansgirl · 2 months ago
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𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗬 𝗕𝗢𝗬 ━ nicholas a. chavez
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ author's note. based off this request... enjoy ♡
↱ cw. nsfw (+18)! switch!reader x switch!nicholas, begging, dirty talk, oral (m+f receiving), praise, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected piv, creampie, this one's kinda sweet ☹️ | wc. 2929
𝓣he last few days were pure torture for nicholas.
he just came back home from filming, gone for almost three months; three agonising, incredibly hard months. of course he was happy to see his girlfriend after such a long time. they would cuddle for hours, and she'd ask him all about the movie he was currently working on. y/n was so excited, eyes sparkling with excitement every time she spoke to him, yet she could feel the shift in her boyfriend's behaviour. something was so off.
he was more... touchy than usual. hands on her body every time and every second, kisses needier, body reacting to even the slightest touch. nicholas often found himself staring at her when she was doing casual stuff around the house, shorts riding up on her thighs as she stood on her tiptoes to get something from the cupboard, cock twitching uncomfortably in his pants.
three months. three months without sex. of course he masturbated, and of course y/n would send him a dirty picture every now and then. but it wasn't enough, not at all. and ever since he got home, he was waiting for something, anything; an occasion to push his fingers under her panties, or under her t-shirt to grab her boobs.
and y/n wasn't oblivious to it. his erection pressed against her in the most unexpected moments, he pushed into her slightly, trying to get her to notice. nicholas' desperation was so visible, but she wanted him to break. she wanted him to ask for it.
it was a friday afternoon, and instead of going out, they stayed in, deciding on watching friends.
"mind if i take a shower first?" y/n asked, walking down the stairs, eyes lighting up at the sight of her boyfriend already curled up on the couch, waiting.
"no, no. of course not", he replied mindlessly, looking through his instagram. his eyes met hers, and the sight of her standing there, smiling, almost made his stomach hurt with need.
"be right back. love you!" she ran upstairs quickly and nicholas heard the bathroom door closing shut. he exhaled, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes. it's been so hard. and y/n acted as if she didn't notice the shift in his behaviour. he knew she wanted him to beg for it, but he didn't really know where to start. and most importantly, he was ashamed of feeling that way. why was sex the only think he could think about? why did it keep him up, dick hurting as she pressed her ass against him with purpose, pretending to be asleep?
before he could find the answer, y/n appeared at the top of the stairs, looking absolutely scrumptious.
face flushed from the bathroom's temperature, his t-shirt hanging on her body, ending mid-thigh, and he wondered if she even wore any panties underneath.
y/n rubbed the towel on her damp hair as she walked down the stairs. she took a seat next to nicholas on the couch, lashes fluttering as she looked up at him.
"y/n...", he started, quite unsure how to talk about his need, as his problem seemed so ridiculous.
"yes, babe?", she cocked her head, brushing a hand through her hair, throwing the towel on the floor mindlessly.
his breath hitched, usual confidence fading as he gazed at her, looking so effortlessly hot.
"i..." nicholas hesitated, and before he could think about it, his lips were already on hers, hands tugging at her - his - shirt, guiding y/n to straddle his hips. y/n melted into his touch, smiling into the kiss. "what is it, nick?" she let out between kisses, but he was all over her again, hips thrusting up to meet her thong-covered pussy.
"no, no. you have to tell me first", she whispered, pulling at nicholas' hair, causing him to groan. his eyes fluttered shut, chest heaving with each breath, cheeks flushing slightly. "what do you want?"
she grounded herself on his lap, cunt pressing on his hard-on purposely.
"fuck- i need you. need you so bad, doll", he muttered, chasing her lips with his', and she grinned, allowing him to force his tongue into her mouth, exploring every inch of her as she whimpered softly. and it drove him crazy, the taste of her, the feeling of her skin against his hands, everything she did.
y/n bit on his lip, pulling away just for a second before placing wet kisses on his neck, tongue twirling around his skin, her long nails clawing at his arms.
she moved down, sucking on his nipple softly, tongue lapping at the bud, earning a satisfied groan from nicholas. she licked, sucked and bit every part of his hard chest, teasing him, playful smile on her lips.
"fuck- shit, i want- i want your mouth", nicholas whimpered, chest heaving as she worshipped him, the upper part of his body sticky from her saliva.
"but baby, i am using my mouth", she grinned, meeting his half lidded eyes before dropping to her knees between his legs. she traced the bulge in his pants with her hand, breathing deeply at the sight of him.
"suck my dick. please, just- stop teasin'", nicholas' hips lifted up from the couch as y/n tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants. she took his boxers off in the process, and his cock sprang free, angry red and leaking with pre-cum. y/n's eyes widened at the sight of him, so defenceless and desperate, her own arousal soaking her black panties.
"is this why you've been acting so weird lately?" she asked, teasingly running her hands over his muscular thighs, and his cock twitched at the sensation. nicholas' head fell back against the couch, yet he kept an intense eye contact, bucking his hips up. his cock bounced, and he could almost feel her own need as she bit her lip at the sight.
"yes, yes, yes", he chanted as she stuck her tongue out, taking his dick in her hand, guiding it to her lips. "needed you so bad, doll. fuck, yes", nicholas muttered lowly at the sensation of her mouth closing around his pink tip, tongue swirling around it as if she was licking at a lollipop. she looked up at him, the sight of his well trained body making y/n moan around his shaft. she was so eager to please him, so eager to feel his cum paint the back of her throat. it never failed to amaze him, the way she was worshipping him, taking her sweet, sweet time teasing him, enjoying it almost as much as he did.
nicholas' hands found her hair, and he tugged at it, causing another moan to escape y/n's mouth.
she sucked on the tip softly before pulling away, a string of saliva still connecting her lips to his cock. her tongue darted out as she licked at the underside of his shaft, greedily tracing the pulsing veins adoring it. her tongue reached down to lap at his balls, huge and full of cum, almost begging for her attention. nicholas' cock twitched and his whole body contracted at the stimulation.
"more, please, doll-" he blurted, breathless, and she looked up at him as she left soft kisses on the insides of his thighs. slowly starting to stroke his big cock in her hand, the other tracing over the muscles on his stomach.
he met her eyes, biting his lip at the sight of her on her knees, being so good for him, before throwing his head back in pure bliss. the teasing made him feel lightheaded, heart beating so fast that he thought he might just drop dead any second.
"you're so big" y/n mumbled, almost as if she was talking to herself, swiping her thumb over his sensitive tip. she watched his face with wide eyes, amazed by the sounds that left his mouth and the way his muscles tensed. she thought that in this exact moment, she had complete control over him for the first time ever.
never taking her hand off his member, she got up from her spot on the floor. nicholas' eyes snapped open, wide and desperate, as she leaned over to kiss him.
y/n took her sweet time, never stopping the slow movements of her hand, and he whined into the kiss, his own needy hands already roaming over her body. nicholas melted into her touch, hips starting to rise from the couch as he grew impatient, he needed more. y/n smiled into the kiss before pulling away, every move graceful and thoughtful.
"can i sit on your face, pretty boy?" she asked softly; nicholas' eyes sparkled beautifully and his cock twitched, and she took it as a 'yes'.
what he didn't expect was her turning her back on him, ass on full display as she straddled his chest, and the realisation of what she had in mind finally bloomed in his mind.
before he had the time to think about it, y/n was already straddling his face, and he inhaled, breathing her in greedily. her sweet pussy glistened with wetness, and his cock twitched when she leaned over to be face to face with his his length.
nicholas wasted no time; he wet his lips before swiping his tongue against her clit, straight up to her hole. he gripped y/n's ass in his big hands, pressing her against his face even more, a soft groan leaving his mouth at the taste of her.
she cried out and wrapped her mouth around him, trying to take him as deep as possible. the sensation of nicholas' mouth on her pussy combined with the taste of him had her head spiralling.
she was thankful he wasn't teasing her, going straight into licking, sucking and kissing at her clit, not a single thought in his head as he ate her out.
"fuck, i missed this pretty mouth of yours- and this sweet pussy. so good, so mine", nicholas whined pathetically, making y/n moan around his shaft, gagging slightly when he hit the back of her throat. she grabbed his thighs for stability, licking the underside of his shaft before focusing on his tip again.
nicholas' hands squeezed y/n's butt cheeks tightly as he sloppily made out with her pussy, tongue darting out to flick at the little button hidden between the folds. his mouth closed around it and he sucked hard enough to make her see stars. he could feel y/n's legs beginning to shake as she whined around his cock, bobbing her head quickly, just how she knew he liked it.
"shit, doll, i'm gonna cum-" he managed to get out, already on edge from her previous teasing, as he threw his head back.
y/n moaned around him, taking him in fully, encouraging him to fill her mouth. nicholas groaned shamelessly as his hips twitched, cock getting even deeper in her mouth, nails digging into her flesh with enough force to leave marks.
his vision went white for a second as he painted her throat white, and she took all it without protest, still bobbing her head on him, milking him dry until his whole body started to twitch from overstimulation. y/n let him leave her mouth with a "pop", breathing heavily, swallowing all of his cum momentarily, the taste of him only turning her on more as her pussy clenched around nothing.
before she had the time to react, she was already on her back, legs spread as nicholas towered over her, still slightly lightheaded from the earth shattering orgasm he just experienced.
"i just can't get enough of you" he whispered, arms on both sides of her head as he leaned down, nose brushing against hers. he then started to leave sweet kisses all over her neck, chest - focusing on her breasts for a little longer - before finally kneeling down between her legs, spreading them just a little wider, pupils blown with lust as he took in the sight before him.
"nick-" she didn't get to finish as his mouth came in contact with her pussy yet again, moving his tongue around her clit in fast circles. y/n's back arched, and her hand found place in his hair, the sight of her boyfriend between her legs making her legs shake slightly. he left open mouthed kisses on her slit, making out with her pussy sloppily, before forcing his tongue into her little hole, nose bumping against her clit. nicholas' eyes snapped open to watch her, and his cock twitched yet again, begging for attention, when she made eye contact with him. and y/n felt it too; she clenched around him, legs threatening to close around his head, but nicholas was quick to spread her thighs open, arms wrapping around them tightly. he was being oh so messy, her sweet juices covering the lower half of his face, obscene sounds echoing in the living room - but he didn't seem to care at all.
"come on, pretty girl, give it to me", he almost begged, and y/n tugged at his messy hair again, the feeling of his warm tongue on her clit making her cry out yet again. groans left nicholas' mouth as he devoured her, and one last suck of his mouth around her clit was enough to send her spiralling. y/n moaned his name out loud, and he responded with a satisfied moan as his girl's sweet essence filled his mouth. nicholas lapped at her hole, eager to not miss a drop of her cum, and she twitched in overstimulation. he didn't stop for another minute or two, too lost in his own pleasure, soft moans leaving his mouth as he placed soft kisses and licks on her clit to calm her down.
when he finally pulled away, y/n's legs flew shut, chest heaving with uneven breaths. nicholas smiled proudly before kissing her softly, and she wrapped her legs around his torso, running a hand over his broad shoulders. she could feel nicholas' cock pressing against her thigh, leaking with pre-cum yet again, and her pussy clenched at the feeling of him.
"i need to be inside you, baby", he whined desperately, hiding his face in the crook of her neck; her chest tightened at his voice, so defenceless and needy.
"use me, pretty boy", y/n breathed him in, and he wasted no time in running his tip over her clit, teasingly slow. she moaned at the sensation, hips bucking to feel more of him; nicholas certainly didn't like that, as he pushed her down, hands gripping at her hips tightly. after teasing her for another second or two, he forced himself into her, the wetness coating her walls making it easy for him to move.
satisfied moans left both of their mouths, and nicholas sat back on his knees, watching his cock slowly disappear in her tight hole, mouth slightly agape at the sight.
"you're so wet for me, so warm", he breathed out, gripping y/n's thighs, forcing her to open her legs just a little wider. he watched her face twist in pleasure as he buried himself to the hilt, cock twitching in anticipation. y/n gripped at the couch cushion tightly, her eyes rolling back into her head; the sensation of his cock kissing her cervix with every single move of his hips almost unbearable.
y/n lost it the moment nicholas' fingers came in contact with her perky nipples, rolling them between his long fingers, occasionally squeezing the soft flesh of her breasts in his palms. she gasped breathlessly, sound almost inaudible as pure ecstasy filled her mind.
"look at me, c'mon, doll", he panted, holding himself back, even though his thrusts got more aggressive, desperate, sloppy. y/n opened her eyes, meeting his own immediately, and she clenched around him. hard. "fuck, nick- i- i'm gonna cum" she managed to choke up, and her hands found his strong arms, holding onto them for dear life.
"yeah? come on then, give it to me. i want to feel you cum around me", these words, combined with his powerful thrusts and the look of pure ecstasy on his face sent her over the edge. nicholas was quick to lift her up from the couch slightly, the new angle making him go even deeper; she clenched around his cock as she came, moaning his name like a prayer.
nicholas shut his eyes at the sensation, and kissed her once again, his restless thrusts not stopping even for a moment. the taste of her made his head spin, cock twitching as y/n bit on his lower lip, shaking from overstimulation, cunt gripping him tightly. he buried himself fully inside of her and let go, ropes of cum filling her womb, and he grinded his hips against hers to ride out his orgasm, groans leaving his mouth as he fell forward, entire body shaking.
"holy fucking shit", he managed to get out, and y/n fell back on the couch with him, completely fucked and spent. nicholas hid his face in the crook of her neck, leaving soft kisses there, and she played with his hair mindlessly.
"i love you", he whispered softly after a couple of minutes, finally letting his body relax. y/n smiled at the confession. she planted a kiss on his forehead, heart beating hard in her chest; the love she had for him almost overwhelming. "i love you too, pretty boy."
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2024, hoffmansgirl ©
nicholas alexander chavez masterlist ✿ | about the author
tags (comment to be tagged in my next nicholas writings): @destrolid @tater-tots-thoughts
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writersdrug · 3 months ago
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Heyyyyyy!!! So I’m absolutely freaking OBSESSED with your bartender AU… like I’m just eating up everything that’s coming out with itttttt!!! I love your writing so much and I’m honestly so hooked whenever I read your stuff!
I was wondering if I could request something with bartender Simon Riley and it’s where he finds reader crying in the backroom/pantry/stock area of the pub cause it’s been one of *THOSE* days. So he finds her there and sits with her and she just absolutely melts onto him and it’s all very sweet… sorry if this too much info for a request! Again, I absolutely love your work! 🤭🫶
Combining this with a few other asks about reader and Simon having a tender moment + reader having monetary issues
You're rather quiet today - you'd come in and spoken your hello's to everyone, then promptly got to work. Starting on rolling silverware in the far booth, then fifo-ing the pantry and fridge upstairs, then cleaning the bathrooms (you hated cleaning them, which is how Simon first figured out something was wrong). Didn't even reach for the French toast sticks Soap had put under the warmer for everyone. You have an expression plastered to your face as you work. Something between frustration and worry, and it has Price, Johnny, and Simon all on edge. Still, they let you be; it was well-known by now that personal space is sacred to them, and Simon trusts that you'll speak up if you need a shoulder.
Gaz couldn't stay to help drag the kegs upstairs today - something about the Brewmaster being on a trip to Austria, so he was left to watch the brewery. Simon doesn't mind that much. He can easily lift two kegs onto his shoulders and trudge them upstairs to the fridge. He grunts as he moves past the office, careful not to bang the kegs on any corners. Adjusting his grip, he pushes his way into the walk-in fridge-
He sees you, facing the boxes of fruits. "Oh- sorry, luv-" he sets the first keg down, then the second. "Y' need me to reach somethin'?"
You shake your head. Simon furrows his brow, noticing how tense your shoulders are. You're just... standing there. Not reaching for anything, not even looking at the shelves. Just staring at your feet.
You're crying.
All of his duties as a bartender fall to the side. He lets the door fall shut behind him. "Hey, hey... what's goin' on?" he places a hand on your upper back, rubbing his thumb back and forth as he waits for you to turn around. His mind is racing a million miles a minute, trying to imagine what could possibly have you this upset - and what he can do to fix it.
You shake your head, sniffling and trying to control your breaths. "It's nothing, I'm just - just a weird day, y'know? Not sure why I'm crying." You turn to look up at him and muster a smile, though your teary eyes say something else entirely.
He sighs. "C'mon, what's wrong?" He kneels down so that he's looking up at you - something his mom used to do when he felt too overwhelmed to tell her why he was crying. He can't explain it, but it made it easier to let go of whatever was troubling him.
Your lip wobbles, and you cave. Simon holds himself steady as you hug him, his burly arms wrapping around the small of your back. You sob, chest shaking with sharp inhales and sniffles, and Simon closes his eyes and sighs. This is what he wants: to be the lighthouse in your storm, to hold you steady while you began to slip. More than anything, though, he doesn't want you to cry.
He does what he remembers his mother doing. He gently shushes you, heart aching as you fist the back of his shirt and try to compose yourself. He uses one hand to drag an upturned crate behind you, slowly lowering you to sit down. The last thing he wants to do is let go of you, but he needs you to talk. He grabs a bucket and pulls it under him, planting himself in front of you and looking into your eyes.
"Talk to me. What's on your mind, hmm?"
You explain it all through sniffles and sobs: you're mom's recently called and said she wants to visit you. You're embarrassed with yourself, still living in that shitty apartment with your shitty roommate, a marketing degree hanging on your wall that you've never used (believe me, you've tried, but places really aren't hiring). Money isn't tight, but you're not saving - just making enough to exist and occasionally buy the name brand instead of the generic. One thing spirals into another, and you find yourself despairing about how you're never going to be anyone important, you're never going to make a difference - you're not even a cog in the machine. You're just the space between it.
God knows Simon's felt it, too.
"See?" you laugh at yourself, wiping a tear away with your fingers. "It's stupid. I do this every once in a while, right before my period."
Simon grunts. Good to know he can start buying chocolate and leaving it stuffed in the server cabinet. "It's not stupid, luv. You're worried - it's alright."
You cover your eyes, fighting the urge to start sobbing again. "I just... I feel like I'm not doing what I should be doing. I'm not getting anywhere. I thought I was going to be in a corporate office by now, living in a penthouse apartment and travelling wherever I want."
Simon scoffs. "Well, that's just unrealistic."
You huff. "I know. But that's success, isn't it?"
"Is that what you want?"
"Success? I mean... doesn't everyone?"
"Lemme put it this way." Simo leans his elbows on his knees, and you find yourself being drawn in to meet him, arms folded over your stomach.
"I assume you're happy 'ere." he says, looking you in the eyes. "What, with making your silly li'l drinks and swappin' all my shit for somethin' pink, 'n whatnot."
You giggle. "Yeah, I am..."
"Do you want to be happy?"
"I..." you pause. "Yeah, I do. Of course."
"Then aren't you already successful?" he asks. "You're not drownin' in bills - I hope you'd tell me if ya were - and you're happy. Is workin' a stupid corporate job n' livin' above the clouds gonna make it better?"
You looked at his hands, turning over the words in your head. It was stupid. It was the stupidest thing you've ever been worried about - he was completely right. You're happy here. You've never been happier - not in college, not at your data entry job, and definitely not in high school. You laugh, looking down at your own hands. "Yeah, you're... you're right. God, that was stupid-"
"Oi." he says sternly, slapping your knee - you froze, attention fully directed to him now.
"'S not stupid." he says, pointing a finger at you. "Just have to work through this sort of shit."
You watch as he stands and stretches his arms over his head, joints popping and cracking. "Should leave, 'fore we start heating up the fridge." he opens the door, and you quickly stand and follow him on the way out.
"What about the kegs?" you ask, following him down the stairs. "Do you need help bringing those up?"
"Give it time. Let it cool back down in there." He pauses at the bottom of the stairs, hand on the doorknob as he watches you quickly smear away the mascara under your eyes. "You eat anything today?"
You shake your head, fixing the knot on your server apron.
Simon forces his eyes away from your waist. "There's French Toast on the warmer - Soap made it for you. Go take a fifteen."
"But I haven't fini-"
"'M not askin'." he grunts out, pushing through the stairwell door and into the restaurant. He leaves you there to finish collecting yourself, staring after him with a small smile.
If this was you when you had first started working here, you would have thought he was frustrated with you for being so emotional. Now, that's just how you've come to know him. You quickly fix your hair and wipe your face once more, stepping out into the pub. The smell of cinnamon sugar wafts through the air as you make your way towards the kitchen, sparing one last sentimental glance to Simon as he begins setting up his bar.
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mrsbarnesblog · 6 months ago
Text
my girl
masterlist
requests are open
summary: even if you knew that you and Rafe were just hooking up, hearing his friend's comments about you, while you were preparing a venue for the event, hurt more than you expected it to
word count: 2k.
warnings: fwb (or smth like that) to lovers, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, Rafe's friends lol, swearing
a/n: soft Rafe is my weakness, I'm sorry. he's on my mind 24/7 and I literally don't know what to write
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You were running around the outdoor venue with boxes full of pastry, where in a few hours there was going to be an annual celebration with lots of rich people. For some reason, Ward Cameron, who was paying for everything here, decided that your father’s small bakery was good enough to feed all of the kooks, so from the afternoon on, you were organizing tables to make everything look perfect. 
The place itself looked truly magical—decorated with a lot of flower arrangements, lights and expensive furniture. It was located at Figure 8, so you obviously never had the opportunity to visit it before. It was Kook’s territory, and even with your family’s bakery, which was pretty popular on the island, you were not welcome here.
Just a few minutes ago, Ward himself came to the venue with Rafe and his son’s best friends in order to check how everything was going. 
As soon as your eyes met Rafe’s, you both stopped for a few seconds, too shocked to see each other in a public place. What happened between you and Kook's prince was something that you had never expected to get into, yet here you were. 
You didn’t know what got into you that one night, but out of nowhere, Rafe was talking to you, smiling, looking all sexy and without his usual cockiness, so you couldn’t resist him. 
It wasn’t that you even regretted your decision; it just became more weird every single time you met because he wasn’t bad. Rafe Cameron wasn’t an asshole, which everyone made him seem to be. He was affectionate and surprisingly soft, always checking on you while you two were together and never pressuring you to leave. You wholeheartedly had to admit that it became more than just sex after a few weeks, no matter how hard you tried to deny it. 
You were definitely not dating, mostly because he had never asked you to, but you two were always texting about random stuff, he would even pick you up to hang out at his secret spot on the beach, or just to simply sit in his truck with lots of food and talk. Part of you hated it, but Rafe made you feel so comfortable and safe around him so you were scared to push it and ask him what was happening between you. 
Rafe’s eyes stayed fixated on you as his father, Kelce and Topper stood near him, looking around the venue and chatting. But he could not care less about it because his entire attention was drawn to you and how adorable you looked in your pink tennis skirt and simple white polo with the bakery's logo on it. 
He may or may not be responsible for Ward’s choice of bakery to work with, because Rafe made sure to accidentally mention it a few times, knowing that it would be a good profit for your family. Yet, seeing you here slightly took him off guard, as the first thought that appeared in his head was to go up to you, flirt and make you blush, or just simply kiss you. But he couldn’t, right? At least not until he properly talked to you. 
“Damn, she’s hot, even for a pogue. No wonder you hit it a few times, bro. I'd do it too.” The moment words left Topper’s mouth, Rafe’s heart dropped into his stomach. Kelce snickered, fistbumping Topper, and Rafe cursed himself for running his mouth. He really considered drowning his friends in the nearest lake. 
“Shut your fucking mouth.” Rafe seethed through gritted teeth, elbowing his friend. 
“I would appreciate you both watching your language.” Ward sighed, wincing and rubbing a hand on his beard. He looked at Rafe, who completely ignored his questioning gaze while trying to figure out how to fix it. 
Even with you standing with your back facing them, Rafe saw that you heard it too. Your hand froze in the air, still holding a cupcake, and your shoulders sagged in disappointment and hurt.
Only a few seconds later, you came back to your senses. Your back straightened, you finished decorating the table and you put empty boxes in the trash can. You turned around, showing the fakest smile Rafe had ever seen on your face. Your nails digged in your palm to control yourself, and you stepped closer to the four of them. 
“Mr. Cameron, thank you for working with our bakery. It really means a lot for my family. I did everything and now the event manager should carry on. I, um, should go. I have a lot of stuff to do. Have a great night.” Your eyes were glossy, with tears clearly visible on your waterline. As you awkwardly and in a rush thanked Ward, you didn’t even look at Rafe or either of his friends, knowing damn well that it would break you. 
You didn’t even wait for Ward’s response before storming off, trying to get as far away from these people as possible. Your chest felt too heavy, and the lump in your throat was so hard that you could barely speak. But you didn’t even walk a few feet away before a familiar hand wrapped around your wrist and made you turn around. 
“What do you want from me?” You snapped at Rafe, trying to yank your hand out of his grip. “Don’t touch me, Rafe.”
“This is not what you think it is.” He said, searching for your eyes. His brows were knit together, and his eyes were big and round, almost in fear. 
“Oh no? Isn’t it what I am to you? Just a hit. Just another one on your long list. Why are you bothering to explain anything to me anyway?” You laughed, barely able to hold back your tears. As if it were not enough that you cried in front of Rafe, neither his friends nor his father seemed to mind their own business, obviously listening to your conversation. 
“No. You know that it was more for me, Y/N. I’m serious about you, okay? Topper just cannot filter his fucking mouth.” 
“Stop doing it, Rafe!” You broke, not bothering to hide anymore. “Stop playing with my feelings when you know damn well that you won’t have anything serious with me. I’m not rich, I’m not a kook and I’m not like the prefect girls you usually hang out with. I get it, okay?” You yanked your hand out of his hold, not missing the way Rafe tried to catch it back. Wiping away hot and angry tears with the back of your hand, you look him right in the eyes. “I just wish you didn't give me hope in the first place, because I feel so fucking stupid.” 
“You’re not stupid, Y/N. I don’t care about your money or your status, for that matter. I want you and I mean it. Just let me explain—”
"This is why you would not even speak to me in front of anyone, right? This is why we were always sneaking around. Because you want me, not because you’re too good to be around me.“ You confronted him, not even caring who could hear or see you. From the position where you were standing, you saw a bunch of young waitresses standing not so far away, pretending to work on the table but eyeing you and Rafe every second.
“I’m an asshole. I know it. I know that I didn’t put the label on us and that I fucked up, not doing the right thing.” He stepped closer to you, not breaking eye contact to show that he was sincere. "When Topper and Kelce saw me with you, I panicked and said the only thing that made sense: we were just hooking up. I didn’t want it to be that way, fuck…” Rafe screched the back of his neck in agitation.
“You should go back and stop embarrassing yourself talking with a pogue. I bet your friends found it entertaining. How much did you tell them, hm? Did you share every single detail of what we were doing?” Your voice broke at the end.
“I didn’t tell them anything!”
“Well, I don’t believe you, Rafe!” You sniffed, looking away to distract yourself from the look in Rafe’s eyes. His blue eyes were round, full of concern and it seemed like he was almost panicking. "I understand how guys like you talk about women, but I guess I was stupid enough to believe you would not do that to me. So yeah, you got what you wanted from me and now you can go back to—”
You were rumbling one moment, and the next, two hands pressed on your cheeks, tilting your head up, and Rafe's lips were on yours. You gasped, hands freezing in the air in shock, before slowly moving to Rafe’s shirt to tug on it. 
He didn’t rush; he just firmly yet gently held you against him while his tongue slipped into your mouth, savoiring every second. It’s been just two days since you last seen each other, but God, you missed kissing him. Even if you wanted to move away, you couldn’t. Rafe's palms were on your face, guiding you, while his kiss made your head feel empty and light. He smelled and tasted so good and you hated how quickly you got used to the feeling of his touch on your skin. 
“Everyone can see us.” You mumbled into his mouth. 
“I don’t fucking care, Y/N.” He furrowed, still feeling the wetness on your cheeks from crying. With his thumbs gently rubbing your soft skin, he gave you a few quick kisses before continuing. "I swear, all I said to them was that we just hooked up, because it is what it was at that moment. I wouldn’t have shared anything intimate about you, baby. Please believe me when I say this.” Rafe sighed, resting his forehead on yours. His nose bumped against your—something that he started doing when you were alone in the bed, laying face to face and just looking at each other. "I am sorry I made you feel like you were just sex for me, because you weren't. Spending time with you was the best fucking time of my day, and whatever that was between us, I don’t want it to end.”
“Me neither…” You whispered, feeling warmth rushing through your body when Rafe wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you even closer into him. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and then you felt him turning around, seemingly studying people around you.
“Since everyone saw us today, do you think I can take you away with me right now?” 
“Take me away? But you have an event in a few hours, and I have to work.”
“No, now we have an event and we have to find you a dress. I’ll handle your work and find someone who can deliver your orders.” Your head snapped up, only to see a proud grin on Rafe's face.
“You’re joking, right?” You pulled away, laughing. “I don’t have such clothes nor do I have money to buy them, and I definitely wasn’t invited.” 
“That’s why I’m taking you to the store now. And since you are my girl now, you’ll be my plus one.” He just shrugged, probably unaware that he had just filled your stomach with freaking butterflies. 
“I’m your girl?” 
Rafe silently looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, and it seemed like he was trying to reassure himself about something. His eyes then shifted to your lips, as he dragged you back to his body, lowering himself to mumble against your mouth. “Yeah, you are my girl.”
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riekirei · 7 months ago
Text
00:00 — nishimura riki
your boyfriend, riki, came home after an exhausting day, working and practicing. you stay up and wait for him til late to see him come home, tired.
pairing: idol bf!riki x afab!reader | genre(s): fluff | content/warning: reader and riki call each other baby, reader kisses riki on the forehead and cheek
[requested]
word count: 735
author’s note: this is just so cutee. i enjoyed writing this sm and i hope you enjoy reading it as well! not proofreaadd btw
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[🎧 now playing: soren by beabadobee]
22:12
you were scrolling on your phone, laying down across the couch with a fluffy blanket covering you body. you were waiting for riki to get home from working at the hybe building. you figured he was up practicing after a long day of promoting and shooting for their recent comeback. you weren't too sure where he was at the moment. he might've been on his way home, maybe even at the studio this late at night. 
22:27
you decide to text him.
“babyyy”
“where r uu :(“
you type in and send. you blink a few times, feeling how droopy your eyes were. it was getting late and you couldn’t deny how sleepy you were. you yawned as you shut your phone off, laying it by your side. you pulled your blanket up to your chin and laid there, wondering were riki could be.
22:46
some time later, you check your phone to see if he had responded. ‘delivered.’ riki hadn’t opened your message. he was probably on his way home right now so you didn’t really worry. 
your eyelids were heavy and you couldn’t fight off how much you wanted to sleep. eventually, you fell asleep on the couch, tucked into the fluffy blanket. 
23:07
you awake to the sound of keys clanking right outside the door. the doorknob twisted and the door opened, revealing the sight of your boyfriend. he took his shoes off and dropped his bag onto the floor. you rubbed your eyes and just as you were about to stand up and greet him, you see him walk into the bedroom with his eyes half shut.
“woah woah woah, where do you think you’re going?” you ask him as he trailed off. “sleep” he said. “noo, baby. not just yet. we need to get you washed up first” you told him. riki stops and turns to see you. “babyy~ can we go to sleep?” he asks you, slowly blinking and standing still, clearly tired. you walk towards him and grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the bathroom you had in the room. “let’s wash up first, pleaaaseee?” you softly say, looking into his eyes. riki nods and walks with you towards the bathroom.
you help him get into the shower and handed him his towel and his new change of clothes. riki took a quick shower and as soon as he got out, you helped him dry his hair and body. you made sure he was feeling okay. as you pat his face down with a towel, you could tell just by his eyes how exhausted he was. “tired hm?” you asked him. all he did was nod. you smile and caress his cheek. 
23:32
after riki washed up, brushed his teeth, and changed his clothes, he laid down onto his side of the bed. you came shortly after with a glass of water you took from the kitchen while riki was changing. you handed it over to him and waited for him to finish before setting it aside for him on the bedside table. you pulled the blanket over the two of you and closed the lights, leaving only a dim one by the doorway lit up. 
you watched riki as his eyes shut. you rub circles onto his temples and forehead to help him relax and release any tension he had. riki then rested his hand by your waist, bringing you in slightly closer. your hands move up and made its way onto his hair. you play with it and lightly massaged his scalp. riki had a smile across his face.
23:49
you thought of putting pain relief patches on his shoulders to relieve any of the pain his muscles might’ve had from practicing and working all day. you get up to fetch them from a drawer in your closet. you gently lift his shoulders up to place the patches onto them. you lay him back down, looking at him, admiring how pretty he was.
23:59 
you pushed riki’s hair back and gave him a kiss on the forehead and on the cheek. going back down, riki hugged your torso and you buried your face into his chest. “i’m so proud of you for always working hard. good night. i love you, riki” you say before closing your eyes and finally falling asleep in his embrace.
00:00
“i do it for you. i love you more, y/n”
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erwinsvow · 8 months ago
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random but i can see rafe giving shy!reader like a large amount of “pocket money” and she’ll always wait until she’s fully broke and runs out (if she doesn’t have a job), she’d be so nervous to ask him for more.
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at first you're so shy around rafe you can't even find it in you to question what the money is for—you just assume it's some sort of test. you keep the cash in your pretty pink wallet until it's so full it won't fit in your purse.
rafe has no reason to be giving you money—you've got your own, your parents', that is. and suddenly you start to question everything, start overthinking like normal. does rafe think you're reliant on him for money? if so, is he mad at you because of it?
one day when he comes over to your place for once, claiming he wanted to get away from his noisy house to the serenity and peace of your bedroom, you dig out the wallet from under your bed and drop it next to him. he's laying on the mattress, sprawled out playing chess with a robot. the wallet lands with a thud.
like always, you let him speak first.
"what the hell's this?" he asks, lifting the thoroughly packed leather.
"i'm giving it back," you state, trying to remain a little firm. it's so hard around him though.
"jesus, kid," he comments, flicking through the cash. "did y'spend any of it? huh?"
"n-no," you stammer, suddenly nervous. "i kept it safe for you, like you wanted." you look at him with big, confused eyes and he looks back at you in disbelief.
"s'not for that, baby. it's for spending. for nice things, y'know, all the crap you like."
"crap?" you question back.
"stuff. books and records and ice cream when m'not around. y'know, pocket money."
"but i already have that," you reply. "did you think i didn't? did i ask for it?" suddenly confused, you wonder how you gave rafe this implication. "sorry, rafe."
"why are you apologizin'?" you perch yourself next to him.
"i guess because i didn't spend it.."
"well, stop. just use it for somethin' nice. for yourself, not me." he clarifies because he knows you—knows you'll go find him a new polo or golf glove if he didn't tell you otherwise.
and the way he says it—you comply, pressing a kiss to his cheek, mind floating to all the ways you could use it—a new beach read, a new bikini for boat days, ice cream nights with wheezie and a big tip for the nice girls who worked at the parlor.
you were used to spending your dad's money, now you were spending daddy's money. it wasn't that big of a change after all.
and it's really not.. until you run out.
you never had to ask your parents twice for anything, but rafe gives you cash and you don't question why, but now that you're used to getting things from rafe's money, you don't want to revert back. in all honestly, it felt nice when someone asked you where you got something from and you could tell them your favorite words.
"my boyfriend got it for me!"
credit cards are unlimited, but cash runs out. and asking rafe for more seems like the absolute worst thing in the world, especially when you were so hesitant to even start using it.
approaching the door to rafe's bedroom, you pace infront of it for a moment, thinking of the right words to say. ward walks by and smiles at you, though he's confused at what you're doing. panicked, you run in, standing in front of your boyfriend while he's looking at something on his desk. rafe glances up when you walk in.
"hey, kid."
"hi." it even comes out nervous. rafe shuts his laptop at the sound of your voice.
"what is it?" he asks, and you blink back in response.
"what's.. what?"
"y'think i can't tell when you're off? c'mon, start talkin'." you give in immediately.
"well... it's just, um, this cash. your cash. i ran out. and, um, this book i wanted releases out tomorrow. and i told wheezie i'd take her to the movies because that book we both like is a movie now, and it comes out this weekend, and y'know she's a child so-"
"yeah. m'aware."
"sorry," you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up. "sorry." he gets up from the desk, and you wonder if you really messed up by demanding so much.
"what'd i tell ya? stop apologizin'." when he gets close, rafe does what he always does, lifting your chin up so you're looking at him, his fingers resting on your jaw. "what'd you think? i'm gonna say no to you?"
"maybe. i'm being kinda greedy."
"nah, kid. be as greedy as you want." when you smile, he laughs at you, at how nervous you still get, how worried you are that you're doing something wrong. "besides, i got some ideas on how y'can make it up to me."
sounds like a win-win for you.
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