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writingwithciara · 11 months ago

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married in vegas -quinn hughes-

summary: on a trip to vegas one summer, y/n and quinn are forced to share a room. after a night at the casino, the two of them wake up with rings and matching tattoos, leaving them to question what their relationship really means

word count: 6.9k

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

notes & warnings: lowercase intentional. kinda based off ‘stupid in love’ by MAX. wanted to write a little frenemies-to-lovers fic & was pleasantly surprised with the result. hope you guys like it. there will be a part 2 😊 w: language, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex but no smut

masterlist

“why are you two idiots looking at me like that?” y/n set her suitcase down outside the door and glanced between her best friend and his brother. “jack, please tell me why you guys keep exchanging that look.”

“promise you won’t kill me. or luke.”

“fine. just get on with it.”

“you’re gonna be sharing the room with quinn for the week.”

“okay now you’re just joking. please tell me you’re joking.” she let out a soft chuckle but when she noticed how their looks stayed serious, she stopped. “no. this can’t be happening.”

“i’m sorry but we used a random name picker to determine the room sharing situation.”

“that’s a ridiculous way to choose a roommate. i call a do over.”

“there’s no point in trying, y/n. i already tried to get them to change their minds but those two idiots are dead set on making us miserable all week.” quinn leaned against the doorframe and looked at the three people before him. “oh, want to know the most interesting part?” his voice was laced with sarcasm but y/n easily caught on.

“oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” she pushed past him and stopped in her tracks when she saw the room. “one damn bed? come on, jack. what did i ever do to you guys?”

“oh relax. you act like sharing a room with me is the end of the world.”

“10 minutes ago, the idea was tolerable at best. but now, it’s torturous.”

“ouch.” quinn feigned heartbreak and chuckled. “if i cared, that probably would’ve hurt. but seeing as how i don’t care, i’m gonna move on with my life. feel free to sleep on the chair if you don’t want to share with me.”

“you’re insufferable.” y/n rolled her eyes and went to grab her bag.

“no. allow me.” jack was quick to grab it for her and discard it in the room. “i promise to make this whole thing up to you when we get home.”

“i’ll hold you to that.” y/n sighed and waited for quinn to claim the bed. when he took a little longer in the hallway with his brothers, y/n took the opportunity to lay down. just as she was about to close her eyes, the door opened and quinn walked in. he noticed her laying on the bed and got down to where he could be at eye level with the near-sleeping girl.

“uh, what do you think you’re doing?”

“shhh. trying to nap.” she reached her finger out and dragged it down his face. quinn swatted her hand away in response.

“fine. but move over. i want to sleep too. need the energy for dinner tonight.”

“insufferable i say.” y/n mumbled and scooted to the edge of the bed. quinn walked around it and climbed in.

this was going to be a long week.

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dinner should’ve been easier but for y/n, it was more uncomfortable than the nap she attempted to take a few hours earlier.

“what do you think he’s even doing over there? the waitress is way out of his league.” quinn watched as jack chatted with the waitress up at the hostess podium.

“first of all, if anything, jack is out of her league. he’s too good for anyone. and second, why do you care what he’s doing? at least he’s having fun.” y/n shoved her fork into her desert and nibbled at it.

“i’m starting to think you have a little crush on jack.” quinn smirked, knowing that that’s exactly what was going on.

“what? i do not.” y/n shook her head and went to kick him under the table.

“ouch.” luke winced and rubbed his shin.

“oops. sorry luke. i was aiming for the idiot beside you.” she shot quinn a look and he quickly returned it. “you never told me why you cared so much that he was flirting with the waitress.”

“it doesn’t matter and even if it did, you don’t need to know. it’s none of your business.” quinn’s voice raised a little, causing y/n to shrink back in her seat a bit.

“y-you’re right. it was a stupid question.” she returned her attention to her nearly empty plate.

even though she and quinn weren’t exactly friends, she had never been on the receiving end of one of his rare angry outbursts. she hated to admit it but it stung a little bit.

“do you guys mind if i head back up to the room? i’m exhausted.”

“yeah sure. no problem.” luke looked at his friend and smiled sympathetically. he could tell what quinn said had effected her.

“i’ll be up later.” quinn didn’t even bother to look up as y/n stood up and walked out. and when jack returned to the table, luke told him what happened.

quinn felt bad when he heard luke recall the events he was a part of not even 5 minutes ago. he never intended to hurt y/n.

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the next 3 days, y/n avoided quinn as much as she could. it was difficult when they shared a room and they were both there to spend time with luke and jack.

during group outings, y/n would excuse herself and she would never return, instilling panic in the three brothers. but at night, when quinn would get back to their shared room, he would catch sight of how peaceful the girl looked when she slept.

the first few nights, quinn didn’t want to disturb her so he ended up on the chair in the corner. but on the 4th night, quinn was unable to sleep.

y/n had been tossing and turning for almost an hour before her body sat upright and she started bawling. something bothered her and she searched the room for another presence. her eyes landed on quinn as he rushed over to her.

“hey. what’s wrong?”

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to wake you. p-please go back to sleep, quinn.”

“not until you tell me what you were just dreaming of.” he carefully reached up to wipe her tears off her cheeks, silently urging her to tell him what was on her mind.

30 minutes later and every significant detail of her nightmare had been explained. she feared that jack was growing tired of her friendship and wanted to end it with her.

and even though it was just a dream, quinn felt the urge to make sure his brother would never leave her. he wanted to use any means necessary to make sure if it.

but he knew jack would never do that. he loved y/n tremendously.

just as quinn stood back up and headed for the chair again, y/n stopped him.

“hey, thanks again for listening to my nonsense.”

“it’s not a problem. and it wasn’t nonsense. it was a legitimate fear of yours and i’m glad you felt comfortable enough to share it with me.”

“believe it or not, i’m always comfortable with you, quinn.”

“that’s not what you were saying the first day we got here.” he chuckled.

“that version of me is the old y/n. i’ve matured since then.”

“maybe just a little.” he sat on the chair and tried to get comfortable again. “good night, y/n.”

“quinn, would you mind coming over here to share the bed?” y/n had her back to him so she couldn’t see his eyes widen at the question & he couldn’t see the way her face scrunched up when the words flew out of her mouth. she opened her mouth to take it back but quinn smiled.

“of course i wouldn’t mind sharing tonight.”

“yay.” she laid on her back and stared at the ceiling. her fingers drummed lightly on her stomach and quinn glanced over at her.

“how are you doing now?”

“better. thanks again. jacks usually the person i run to when i have a nightmare, even if he’s involved. but this one would’ve been harder to explain without telling him how i feel.”

“so, you do have feelings for him?” quinn raised an eyebrow and glanced over at her.

“of course i do!” y/n rubbed her face slowly. “i’d be an idiot not to. god, he’s perfect.”

something about the way she talked about jack, stirred something in quinn that he did not recognize.

“yeah. i suppose he is. everyone else thinks so. it was only a matter of time before you thought so too.”

“you sound a little bitter about it, quinny.” y/n glanced over at him, only to find him already looking at her.

“i’m not bitter, per say. but maybe just once, i would liked to be picked over jack or luke.”

“hey,” y/n turned on her side to get a better look at the oldest hughes. “the day is gonna come when you meet someone who prefers you over your brothers. and she’s going to love you so much that what’s happening now won’t even matter to you. because she’s going to be the only thing you think about. she’s going to consume your every thought and soon enough, you’ll have what you’ve always wanted. someone who picks you first every time.”

“you really think so?”

“yes of course. you’re pretty special, quinn.” y/n offered him a kind smile, which he returned. “i can’t believe i’m being nice right now.”

“yeah i know. it’s weird.” quinn shook his head and chuckled. “but thank you.”

“you’re welcome.” she smiled again and instead of returning to her position on her back, she stayed facing him. “thank you as well.”

“for what?”

“being here. you know, letting me talk to you about my nightmare. even if it was stupid.” she fiddled with her fingers and quinn reached out to stop it.

“it was not stupid. i told you like 20 minutes ago that it was alright.”

“oh. did you?” she glanced down at where quinn’s hands entrapped her own. “i’m sorry for repeating myself then. sometimes the anxiety is bad.”

“hey, you never have to apologize to me. okay?”

“okay.” she looked at him and smiled. suddenly, the atmosphere was different. almost like the both of them were aware of the tension in the room.

quinn opened his mouth to say something but y/n yawned.

“i’m tired, but i don’t want this rare moment to be over.”

“get some sleep. i’m not leaving. i’ll be here when you wake up, alright?” he cautiously reached up to move a piece of her hair out of her face.

“okay. good night quinn.” she closed her eyes and mere seconds later, her breathing evened out and light snores came from her. quinn let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and fell asleep too.

the whole night, he never let go of her hands.

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when y/n woke up the next morning and noticed the grip quinn had on her hands, she couldn’t help but smile.

sure she had feelings for jack but there was no denying how attractive quinn was, not only on the outside, but the inside as well.

y/n spent the next 5 minutes just admiring his face before he started to stir. she closed her eyes as if to pretend she hadn’t been looking at him, but quinn caught on.

part of him felt her eyes on him & he couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. when she opened her eyes again, quinn smiled.

“good morning.”

“good morning, quinn.”

“how did you sleep?”

“if i’m being honest, better last night than the entire week so far.”

“really?”

“yeah. it’s almost like there was a calming presence nearby that helped me sleep better.”

“yeah i know what you mean.” he chuckled and reluctantly let go of her hands. his own hands felt colder as he let her stretch her body out.

“do the boys have anything planned today?”

“i think the only thing we were gonna do was go to the casino later tonight.”

“oh that sounds fun.” she smiled and looked over at quinn. “and what time was that supposed to take place tonight?”

“not until after dark i believe.”

“good. because i really don’t want to get out of bed right now.”

“yeah. me either.” he closed his eyes and for the first time all week, he was happy to be this close to y/n.

the two of them enjoyed their five minutes of peace, happily enjoying the moment.

however, the moment was interrupted when jack knocked on the door. quinn hopped off the bed and answered it.

“good morning. glad to see you two haven’t killed each other yet.” he chuckled and looked behind quinn as y/n approached the door.

“might have to kill you for ruining my beauty sleep, asshole.”

“oh come on. you don’t need it anyway.” jack smiled, causing y/n to turn her head so he couldn’t notice the way her cheeks brightened.

quinn caught it though and he felt his heart drop. he had hoped their moment, however short it might’ve been, would’ve changed how she felt about jack.

but he was just a fool. she was too good for him. too good for jack too. but he would never admit it.

“anyway, you guys up for getting some breakfast?”

“i could eat.” y/n quickly turned her attention to quinn. “how about you, quinny?”

“food sounds delicious.” he painted on a smile as his younger brothers eyes never left y/n.

“perfect. get dressed and meet us down in the lobby in 30 minutes?”

“see you then.” y/n shut the door and headed over to her bag.

“so i noticed something just now.”

“and what could that be?” y/n walked into the bathroom with her clothes. she shut the door and turned on the shower.

“jack might be into you.”

the bathroom door flew open and y/n eyed quinn suspiciously. “you’re lying.”

“his attention never left you. he had him captivated from the moment you appeared behind me. it was like i wasn’t even there.”

“nonsense, quinn.” she walked over to him. “jack doesn’t like me.”

“say what you want, but i could tell.” he watched as y/n grabbed her hairbrush and returned to the bathroom.

after her shower, quinn got in and did what he had to do. when he walked out, y/n was attempting to put her necklace on.

her eyes met quinn’s through the mirror. she didn’t have to say anything to him. he walked up and clasped the necklace together behind her neck and smiled.

“thank you. i was about to lose my mind there.”

“now, don’t do that.” he chuckled and unplugged his phone. “let’s go.”

the two of them walked out to meet the boys in the lobby.

breakfast should be interesting.

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although luke wasn’t old enough to actually gamble in the casino, they still allowed him to sit back and watch as everyone else lost money. he stuck with quinn while jack was with y/n.

quinn watched his brother and y/n exchange looks while they sat at the blackjack table. their laughs echoed in quinn’s ears and he turned his attention back to his youngest brother.

“quinn, can i ask you something?”

“sure, luke. what’s up?”

“you and y/n? has that happened yet or are you still hiding your feelings from her?”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” quinn sipped his drink and looked around.

“i’m young, not stupid.” luke rolled his eyes. “you’ve been getting increasingly worried about her all week and you can barely take your eyes off of her. you’re also holding your drink so tight that your knuckles are turning white. is everything okay?”

“yeah. just think she could do better than jack. she’s too good for him.”

“are you hoping she realizes she’s in love with you, and not jack? because i honestly don’t think she has the same feelings for jack that you think she does.”

“she told me last night how she felt about jack. i can tell when she’s lying and she was definitely telling the truth. she thinks he’s perfect.”

“but doesn’t everybody? you know it doesn’t necessarily mean she has feelings for him just because she shares the same opinion as everyone else in the world.” luke eyed his brother. “and i’m sure if you told her how you felt, you’d have a decent chance.”

“whatever, luke.” quinn waves his brother away and watched as he joined jack at the blackjack table.

y/n excused herself from the brothers and made her way to where quinn was sitting at another table.

“so, luke tells me you’ve been losing a bit of money over here.”

“don’t believe a thing he says.” quinn finished his drink and chuckled. “kid is a liar.”

“are you sure about that? because your chip pile is looking pretty low there, quinn.”

“it’s just a small hiccup in the road. i’ll figure it out.” he placed a chip on the the number 22, her favorite number, and waited.

“whatever you say. i’m gonna go try my luck at the slots or something.” y/n patted his shoulder and went to walk away but quinn stopped her.

“wait hold on.” he pointed to the table, more specifically at the roulette wheel where the ball had stopped on the 22 spot. “i want to test something. pick a number.”

“um, 19.” y/n watched as quinn placed half his chips on the number 19. “what are you doing? are you insane?”

“just trust me on this.” he held her wrist gently and together they watched the ball spin around the wheel and when it stopped, y/n’s eyes widened. the ball had landed in the 19 spot. quinn looked up at her. “want to try again?”

“let’s go with 6.” she slid some chips over and they waited. again, the ball landed where they needed it to and the chips multiplied.

“i’m starting to believe you’re a lucky charm.”

“i’m sure that’s all you, quinn.” she rested her hand on his shoulder gently. despite not believing she was a lucky charm, she stuck around quinn for the rest of the night. he kept winning with every number she picked, even if she picked the same number twice in a row. that was highly unlikely but it happened.

after roulette, they went around the place to every game and continued winning each time.

by the time jack and luke informed them they were heading to bed, quinn had nearly quadrupled what he started with. although they wanted to stay and be happy for their brother, sleep crept in on both of them. they said their good nights and went up to their room.

but the night was far from over for y/n and quinn.

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y/n didn’t remember getting back to the room last night but when she woke up, she felt something on her finger and there was a sharp pain on her left shoulder. she looked at her hand and her eyes widened.

her gaze went down to a sleeping quinn and she looked at his finger too, just for good measure. he had a ring on his finger too.

“quinn, wake up!”

“what do you want?”

“look at your ring finger.” y/n sighed. quinn glanced at his right hand and rolled his eyes.

“there’s nothing there.”

“the other finger, idiot.”

quinn pulled his hand into his lines of sight and gasped. “do you-“

“yup. bright and shiny.”

“oh please tell me we didn’t get married last night.” he rubbed his eyes roughly, as if trying to clear the image from his mind. “how much did we drink last night?”

“i don’t remember.” y/n glanced down and noticed how little clothing she had on. “quinn, i have a question.”

“what now?”

“do you by any chance have any clothes on?”

“um,” he lifted the comforter and set it back down. “no i do not.”

“crap.” y/n quickly grabbed her clothes and threw them on. she was about to pull the shirt over her head when quinn stopped her.

“when did you get that?”

“get what?”

“the tattoo.”he pointed to her left shoulder. “it’s cute.”

“i don’t know.” she sighed again and looked at quinn. “you got one too. it’s a moon.”

“do you suppose we got so drunk last night that we got matching tattoos and then got married?”

“and then came back and...you know? yeah i think that’s exactly what happened. but who let us drink that much and why can’t we remember anything?”

“i don’t know. maybe luke and jack know more than we do.”

“highly unlikely, seeing as how they went to bed way before us.”

“good point.” quinn scratched his beard and looked at his hand. “i’m really sorry.”

“for what?”

“i feel like this is all my fault.”

“what do you mean?”

“i made you stay with me all night because my luck turned around when you joined me at the roulette table. if i hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t have tattoos and we wouldn’t be married.”

“while that may be true, think about it. would you rather be married to your brothers best friend or a complete stranger? because that could’ve happened too.”

“you. definitely you.” he chuckled and looked at her. she was already staring at him. “what?”

“you should see your back.” y/n shook her head. “what the fuck happened last night?”

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quinn and y/n spent the rest of the afternoon avoiding the boys and trying to find out what occurred last night.

they went to the casino and decided to go to the dealer at the blackjack table, as it was the last place they remember being.

he informed them that after they were served a few drinks, quinn had the bright idea to go get some more. he apparently returned with a tray full of shots, unaware just how strong they were.

“you guys downed the shots no problem then left. sorry i couldn’t be more helpful.”

they walked away slowly and when they were outside the building, they looked down the street.

“which place do you think we got hitched?”

“i don’t know. there’s so many chapels here.” quinn sighed. he was clearly frustrated that he didn’t have the whole story. “it’s not like we can go around asking every chapel.”

“we could but that would be too time consuming.” y/n thought for a moment. “wait. i remember running into some korean elvis impersonator. we could ask about that. someone’s gotta know where he is.”

“worth a shot.” quinn shrugged and followed his wife down the street.

after hours of searching, they were about to give up hope.

“why are we trying to find out the story behind our wedding instead of getting it annulled?”

“that’s a good point.” quinn looked at her. “do you not like being married to me or something though?”

“quinn, we’re 24 years old and we got hitched. we’re not dating and it wasn’t planned. besides, when i told your mom i would marry one of her sons, i promised she could be there. she’d be crushed to know i did it without her. i also didn’t expect to marry you. always thought it would be jack.”

“we have one more day in vegas before we head our separate ways. why don’t we take the rest of tonight to let it sink in and if we feel an annulment is needed in the morning, we can do that.”

“i still can’t believe we got married.”

“don’t forget the tattoos.”

“or the consummation of our marriage.” y/n didn’t feel disgusted about hooking up with quinn. part of her felt like they were meant to end up together, no matter how much she liked jack.

y/n thought dinner that night would be a little difficult.

while they were getting ready, y/n’s ring got stuck. quinn tried to get it off but it wouldn’t budge. he had originally taken his off but when they determined y/n would have to keep hers on, he slid his back onto his finger. if the boys asked questions, they would give them answers.

luckily, neither of them noticed. well if they did, neither of them said anything about it.

back in the hotel room later that night, while y/n and quinn were getting ready for bed, there was a knock on the door. quinn got up to answer it while y/n peaked her head out of the bathroom.

“good evening, mr and mrs hughes. we have some complimentary champagne for the newlyweds.” the man in the hallway pushed a cart into the room and stared at them. “we also have this special dessert for you two and if you would like, we could upgrade you to the honeymoon suite. it’s much larger.”

“thank you, but-“ quinn started but he was quickly interrupted.

“thanks for the champagne and dessert. we will let you know about the room upgrade.” y/n ushered the man out and when she was sure he was gone, she let out a sigh of relief. “okay how many people knew we got married?”

“i have no idea. but why didn’t you tell him we aren’t married?”

“free dessert, duh. oh and champagne.” she picked up the bottle and grabbed two glasses before making her way to the bed. “do you want some?”

“yeah sure.”

the two of them sat cross-legged on the bed, facing each other as y/n poured them each a glass. she handed one to quinn and smiled.

“to....i don’t know what to toast about.”

“let’s toast to us.” quinn suggested. “after all, our marriage is the reason we got this in the first place.”

“okay great idea. to us.” y/n clinked her glass with quinn’s and downed the first glass quickly. “that was delicious.”

“i agree.” quinn poured the next two glasses and about 4 more after that. “being married is fun. why didn’t i think of this sooner?”

“maybe because we’re idiots and it’s not actually real.”

“but it could be, right?”

“you’re drunk. i think it’s time for bed, quinny.” y/n grabbed his empty glass and set them both on the nightstand before getting off the bed. quinn reaches out to grab her hand before she got too far.

“can we share the bed tonight?”

“i guess.” y/n looked at him and climbed under the covers with quinn.

“maybe one day, i’ll find someone like you. someone who’s too good for the world and way out of my league. hopefully she’ll love me because i feel like i deserve it, you know. maybe someday, i can find someone who loves me the way you love jack.”

“i do not love jack. it’s just a small thing. a crush at best.” y/n looked at quinn and sighed heavily. “but i understand what you mean. hopefully i’ll also find someone who loves me the way i deserve.”

“oh you for sure will.” quinn moves hair out of y/n’s face and let his fingers gently graze her cheek before bringing his hand back to rest under his head. “jack is an idiot, you know.”

“i’m sure you’re right, but why?”

“he just is.”

“come on, quinny. humor me.”

“jacks an idiot because he could’ve had you this entire time but instead, he fumbled his chance. and for what? a snooty blonde who’s only nice when she wants something? a bitch who thinks she’s better than everyone? a girl who thinks she’s the most beautiful person on the earth? no. he should’ve opened his eyes so he could see that the most beautiful human being was always right in front of him. and not just on the outside, but the inside too. you’re the only girl in jack’s life that cares not just about him, but his family and friends too. you put everyone else’s happiness before your own and every day that i know you, it just makes me love you. so much.”

“quinn, i don’t-“

“i know i’m a little drunk but i really wish this marriage was real.”

and before y/n could respond to the confession, quinn was fast asleep.

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y/n couldn’t sleep. she tried and was almost there but somewhere around 1:30, quinn wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest, whispering that he’d protect her, into her ear.

6:30 rolled around and she slowly got out of bed. she went into the bathroom to get a glass of water and some advil for quinn before doing the same for herself.

she took a seat in the chair and looked at quinn as he slept.

was his confession last night only because he was drunk? or did he mean it?

when quinn started to stir, he opened his eyes and noticed the water. he let out a chuckle and smiled.

“she really is perfect.” he sat up and that’s when he noticed y/n in the chair. “oh. i didn't see you there. good morning.”

“good morning, quinn. how are you feeling?”

“i’m actually feeling great. um, how are you?” he took the advil and sipped his water.

"i'm good." she fiddled with her fingers in her lap. quinn noticed she was nervous about something so he got up and knelt down to her level.

"hey, what's wrong? you know you can talk to me."

"do you remember anything from last night?"

"i remember a lot of champagne. that's about it. why?"

"you kind of told me you loved me and that you wished the marriage was real. and right before i could say anything, you fell asleep."

"oh. so that wasn't a dream then?" he chuckled awkwardly.

"nope." she shook her head and avoided eye contact with quinn.

"well, in my defense, i was drunk. sometimes i just say things."

"yeah, right." y/n smiled and finally made eye contact with him. "glad we could get that cleared up."

"yeah me too." quinn smiled. "so i take it you want to go get this marriage thing erased, right?"

"yeah. totally." y/n didn't want the marriage to end and as she looked at quinn, she was more sure than ever that jack was the wrong brother. it's always been quinn.

"let's go then."

y/n and quinn went to walk out the door and they bumped into jack & luke on the way out.

"hey. you guys want to go get breakfast?" luke asked.

"sure. but then after that, we have to go our marriage annulled."

"marriage? when did that happen?"

"i knew you two would get together." luke smiled as he and jack followed their brother.

"it was a mistake. we were drunk and obviously it was stupid." y/n turned to look at the boys, as if trying to gauge a reaction from jack. he avoided her gaze as he walked. quinn did the same thing. "right quinn?"

"yeah, right." he nodded and continued to walk. y/n stayed back with luke and sighed.

"i'm an idiot, luke."

"i'm sure you're right, but why?"

"two days ago, i was so sure i liked jack. but ever since finding out i married quinn, it feels right. but i'm an idiot because he doesn't want to be married. that's why we're getting it erased.

"but i finally had a sister." luke pouted. "look, you and jack could've worked if he wasn't a bigger idiot than you are"

"hey!"

"sorry. but it's true. and then there's you & quinn."

"there is no me and quinn."

"yes there is. and this brings me back to the point of you being an idiot. how can neither of you see that you have feelings for each other and that neither of you want the marriage to end?"

"because we were drunk, luke. it was a-"

"you keep saying it was a mistake but it's not. you two were made for each other. why do you think i rigged the room sharing situation? i knew that if you guys had some moments alone, you could get something from the whole thing. and look at that. you got married. now if you had ended up sharing a room with me, you wouldn't be on your way to an annulment. what a story you have here."

"hold on. did you jsut say you rigged the room thing?"

"not important. what is important now is that you tell quinn how you feel."

"come on you guys. i'm starving." jack called from the other end of the hallway. y/n rolled her eyes and the 4 of them walked into the restaurant.

all throughout breakfast, y/n avoided the looks she was receiving from luke and quinn. instead she focused on the conversation with jack. she told him the details surrounding how she got married to quinn, what little information she had.

when the last bite was swallowed and the plates were taken away, y/n and quinn stood up.

"alright. this shouldn't take long. we'll meet you guys back here in about an hour. sound good?"

"yeah. hope it goes smoothly." jack and luke waved goodbye and the 4 of them went their separate ways.

🏒❤🏒❤🏒❤🏒

while y/n and quinn waited for their names to be called into the office, quinn looked around the room and y/n played with the string of her hoodie.

"what are you thinking about?" quinn asked when he noticed she was fidgeting.

"just life and all the decisions i've made to get me where i am today."

"lots of mistakes?"

"yeah. for sure." y/n sighed. "wanna know my biggest mistake?"

"was it this marriage?"

"what? no, of course not." y/n looked at him. "why? do you think it was a mistake?"

"getting off topic. what was your biggest mistake?"

"danny marcel."

"oh no. i forgot about him. he was terrible. always wanted to punch his face in whenever he was around. he always said the rudest things to you. how did you deal with it for so long?"

"you don't want to know." she shook her head, causing quinn to chuckle. "why did you want to punch him in the face?"

"he wasn't a nice person and maybe because i cared about you."

"you did?"

"of course i did. i mean, i still care about you. and i know i'm not the best at showing it but-"

"y/n & quinn?" the receptionist moved from behind the desk and guided them into another room. a kind looking older man sat at the desk. he offered them a smile when they entered.

"it's nice to meet you both & i hope i can get you what you came here for."

"we would appreciate that, sir. thank you."

"great. now before we go through with this, i want to make sure that this is something you'll both want. and seeing as how mr hughes has all the assets, i gotta know that you guys have already discussed that."

"we haven't yet, sir. but i don't want anything." y/n looked at quinn.

"excellent." he looked down at the papers in front of him and smiled. "so are you both sure this is what you want?"

"yes sir." they said at the same time wile sharing a look. the man slid a pen and the papers across his desk.

"great. now i'm just gonna need you to both sign this line here." he tapped the page with the pen and handed it to y/n. just as she was about to sign it, quinn put his hand over hers.

"wait." he removed his hand before looking at y/n. "i'm not sure i want this to be over."

"but i thought-"

"i thought so too. but after the champagne last night, and my stupid confession, i thought more about it."

"okay and?"

"and i've come to the conclusion that marrying you, whether i was drunk or sober, was the best decision i have ever made. you are the most perfect person i know and maybe i'm too late to admit this and maybe you want to get this annulled. and if that's what you really truly want, i will sign those papers to make you happy. but i couldn't let you sign without telling you how i felt." quinn sighed.

"so, mrs hughes. what do you want to do?" the man at the desk looked at her as she contemplated for a moment. she looked at quinn and smiled.

"i don't want to sign the papers." she turned to the man. "we are so sorry for wasting your time."

"not a problem. i'm just glad you two figured this out before you followed through with it. good luck on a long & happy marriage."

"thank you." quinn walked out of the office first. y/n followed slowly behind him but stopped.

"quinn, can i ask you something?"

"of course." he stopped and turned to face her.

"never mind. let's talk when we get back to our room." y/n kept walking and eventually made it back to the room. quinn waited patiently for y/n to say something. when she didn't say anything, he sat on the bed and watched her pace back and forth.

"y/n, whats up? what did you want to say to me earlier?" he sighed. "please say something. the silence is worrying me."

"last night when you told me you loved me, did you actually mean it?" she stopped abruptly and turned to face him. under his gaze, she suddenly felt nervous.

and of course, quinn being who he was, picked up on the sudden shift in behavior and was quick to walk to her. he held her hands with one of his own while the other reached under her chin. he tilted her head so she was looking right at him.

"yes i meant it. every last word that came out of my mouth last night was nothing but honesty. i may have been drunk but for the last 2 years, thinking of you became like a second nature. never have i second guessed how i felt about you. and i can assure you that it's never going to change. so if you don't feel the same way, that's okay. i just need to know."

y/n blinked quickly before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. he stumbled back a little bit as their lips collided but he easily steadied them.

quinn's hands went from her chin to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer as the kiss grew more intense with each passing second.

"so, i take it you love me too?"

"of course, you idiot." y/n smiled and caressed his cheek. "you are so perfect in my eyes and i wish i would've noticed it sooner. but no. instead, i was so focused on jack. that was a stupid decision on my part."

"yes it was." quinn chuckled and held y/n closer. "you are so beautiful and you could have anyone you wanted. why do you love me?"

"are you seriously asking me that now?" y/n smiled. "you are the sweetest person i know. you have so much talent and you never give yourself the credit you deserve. you're funny, smart and so incredibly sexy, it blows my mind. you're perfect in every way to me and i couldn't picture myself loving anybody else."

"you think i'm sexy, huh?" quinn raised his eyebrow and smirked. y/n slapped his chest playfully and smiled.

"no. i think you're like, really ugly." y/n rolled her eyes. "you're lucky i love you."

"i love you too. and since we're married, you're stuck with me for life."

"i suppose so." y/n smiled and reached for her phone. "i gotta call your mom."

"why?"

"she needs to know we got married. and maybe she'll help us throw a party to celebrate. we can invite your family and have it be like a real wedding reception."

"you're right. if anyone deserves to know, it's definitely mom."

"so then it's settled?"

"i guess it is." quinn chuckled. "we can tell her when we get home tomorrow."

"sounds like a plan." y/n set her phone down and looked at quinn. "how has nobody seen the perfection in you before? don't get me wrong. i'm glad they didn't because we wouldn't be here if they had. but, how?"

"i don't know. but i was wondering the same thing about you just now. i mean, you dated some losers but i thought at least one of them would've realized how amazing you are."

"they were all blind and stupid, quinn. even your ex-girlfriends. of course they couldn't see how perfect we are."

"you got that right." quinn placed a gently kiss to the tip of her nose and smiled. "so, how does it feel to be mrs hughes?"

"it feels amazing. always dreamed of marrying into the family one day. just always pictured it being jack."

"i know. but aren't you glad you got the better hughes brother?"

"but i didn't marry luke." y/n replied, causing quinn to gasp. she smirked and began to giggle as quinn kissed all over her face. "quinn, you're crazy."

"crazy for you."

"and cheesy. can't forget cheesy." she playfully rolled her eyes as the two of them collapsed on the bed. "you are the better brother. and for so many reasons. i love you, quinn."

"i love you too, y/n." he kissed her and it felt like time had stopped. for them, it felt as if they were the only 2 left in the world. but neither of them could complain.

they were in love and so thankful they were finally able to admit it.

#nhl imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #nhl #jack hughes #luke hughes

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hannnsh · 2 months ago

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in every universe, i seem to gravitate towards you

hi guys im back at my gribeans shit again 😊 this is based off a fic by crystalcove, saviour of gribeans fics i love their fics sm it feeds my gribeans rotted brain very well https://archiveofourown.org/works/63418516

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63418516

im still working on a big project and i am kinda in an artblock situation rn but pray i get to some of the requests i get 🙏🏻

#han.art #mcyt fanart #mcyt #smallishbeans #trafficblr #smallishbeansfanart #trafficshipping #joel smallishbeans #grian #grianmc #grianfanart #gribeans #hermitshipping #bakedbeans #groel #im p sure those r the ship names lmao #guys read the fic its so good #han.sketches

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itrainswhenurhere · 20 days ago

Text

party 4 you frat!rafe x sorority!reader

18+ mature (emetophobia warning aswell queens)

mlist

a/n: part 2 here this is my first time writing for rafe x reader so lmk how i’m doing! no one likes when i write ship fics and they get like 20 notes so yeah ill just kms then idm😊😊 also i know nothing about frats or sororities alsooo… series???

the party was loud. you could practically hear the inevitable ringing echoing through your ears all of tomorrow and maybe the day after.

the speaker in the living room blasted all around the house like an inescapable torture. the smell of sweat and sex radiated every surface of delta chi.

god you wanted to go home.

you navigate through the crowd, shoving the occasional frat boy and shouting a “watch it.” at anyone who backed up into you.

the red, blue and green lights bounced off the walls and bodies clung and and jumped to eachother like it was the only thing keeping them alive.

this was bullshit. everyone here was ugly or annoying or a creep or all of the above. sarah, your sorority sister had promised you that there would be someone that lived up to your standards here. yeah right. the incels in here will do just fine sarah.

to be fair to them, no one throws a party like delta chi do, or, their president does. it’s by far the most lively of all the weekends you waste away at these events.

“babeeee,” you hear someone squeal from behind you once you finally make your way to the kitchen.

“do you uhh, know where the 4 lokos are at? sarah took the punch away from me.”

you turn to look and of course it’s hanna. she had probably hooked up with about 3 people tonight and vomited atleast twice, based on her breath.

“i think,” you start, shouting over the music, placing two grounding hands on her shoulders. “maybe we should get you home girl.”

the words come out slightly slurred and not entirely believable, but you try and act as sober as possible so sarah doesn’t appear out of nowhere and take your own red solo cup.

“also we’re not in middle school han, no one drinks 4 lokos anymore.” you laugh shout in the girls ear.

hanna laughs back at you as obnoxiously as possible, now leaning into your straightened arms for support.

“i’m going…. up- upstairs.” she hiccups out as her laugh turns to a pained expression, which safe to say, are from the copious amounts of alcohol she had consumed tonight.

“yesss!!!” you scream excitedly at her. “i can’t hear my own fucking thinking.”

“same, jesus im fucking dying.” she groans dramatically.

you grab a cheap beer from the kitchen, and with hanna stumbling behind you, you make your way upstairs fairly easily, apart from the sticky pit of people crammed into the main room.

the sounds from downstairs are definitely fainter, although chaos ensues one floor or another. there are people in the hallways making out slowly and the distracting thumping of a headboard ringing from some room or another.

jesus this house is huge. you think to yourself. you decide there must be somewhere here to relax for a little bit and wallow in the fact that no one here radiates sex worthy energy instead of ‘in need of anti-persperant deodorant.’

after many, many, walks in on people doing indescribable things to eachother, you find an empty room.

you throw yourself onto the bed and rub the heels of your hands over your eyes, caught up in the shapes and colour patterns under your eyelids when you rub hard enough.

“i’m gonna be sick, again.” hanna groans as loud as she did over the ear bleeding bass music, sounding- somehow, even more dramatic now.

you sit up on the edge of the bed and determine wether or not she just wants something to complain about.

sure enough, hanna’s face, streaked with running mascara- is sickly pale. she gags on air and you can see the exact moment she feels it in her throat.

“go to the- um- fucking bathroom then.” you blurt out, standing quickly, not used to hanna actually living up to her dramatics.

luckily, there’s an en-suite in whatever bedroom you and her have landed in, which she sprints to and kneels down just in time for the vomit to spew out her mouth.

you’re standing at the door, wincing like the whole ordeal is paining you yourself, unsure of what to do with your hands as the brunette now holds herself up by the seat of toilet.

she groans again,quieter but slightly more pained this time.

“bitch, if i’m not in my bed in the next ten minutes, i’m going downstairs and unplugging that fucking speaker myself.”

you resist the urge to snort out a laugh at her again, because you know for a fact within ten minutes, hanna will be begging to go back to the dance floor.

“yep.” you say, eyes darting around for something that will help her at this moment.

“y’know, it hurts like, more, everytime…” she says like it’s some kind of revelation. you’re opening up bottoms drawers and cabinets in the bathroom now, trying to find hanna some kind of relief.

you open the top cabinet and find three paracetamol that probably won’t do the job, but you figure anything is better than nothing.

the door of the bedroom you had forgotten to lock opens and you almost immediately assume it’s some wasted couple who haven’t noticed the two of you yet.

when you turn around and find sarah walking at a surprisingly stable pace towards you. you almost jump in relief.

“oh my god, you might actually be my saviour.” you clasp your hands at her and nod your head to where hanna is now sitting against the drawers below the sink.

sarah is the president of your sorority, and she never fails to save all of your asses when things like this happen.

“do not thank me right now, i just walked in on like five different naked couples.” she shakes herself off, trying to forget the images in her head as she leans down toward hanna.

“what the actual fuck,” she pauses, shaking her head in worried amusement. “could you have possibly had to drink?” she snorts lovingly at her.

“how did it get worse after i took your drink off you??”

you’re now leaning against the door, shrugging sluggishly at sarah. “you are soooo lucky i called us a ride when i first got it off you.”

“kill yourself sarah, oh my god i’m literally dying here.” hanna shakes her head at the floor, huffing, clearly okay again if she has the ability to restart crying wolf.

“topper will be here in five, let’s get you up.” she grabs the girls hand and hoists her up, holding her up by the armpits, both of them in hysterics again as they stumble over feet.

after you both walk hanna outside- arms over you and sarah’s shoulders, while you all giggle profusely at eachother, you decide to be the one who has to go in and get hanna’s discarded phone from the kitchen (hanna coughing like she’s diseased and sarah patting her back.)

you pad through the rooms- heels clicking (though not even nearly heard over all the screaming and terrible squeaky music.)

when you finally reach the kitchen, you have to pry the phone out of two drunk guys’ careless hands. you think they were planning on stealing it before you turn the phone around see the couple hundred selfies they’d taken, now uploaded to hannas icloud.

you fiddle with the phone, making sure it’s not been cracked or opened somehow, when the taller of the men reach down to grab it back from you.

“hey.” a voice booms through the all the other sound around the house.

you follow the voice and your eyes land on the tall, maybe 6,3, muscular, mousy haired source- who is staring daggers into the boy who’s hand is frozen in the air, half extended, previously ready to force the phone out of your hands.

both of the men mutter a ‘whatever’ under their breaths, clearly feigning nonchalance at the man while simultaneously speed walking out of the room, pushing into the main crowd.

“sorry about them, they’re fucking gone, seriously.” his piercing blue eyes, highlighted by the green light shining along the side of them, bore into you.

“uh, yeah,” you pause to try and work out who this man is and why you haven’t seen him before, brain still slightly sluggish from the alcohol. “i noticed.”

he too, takes a second to seemingly take you in. “hey, i’m rafe” he shouts over the music, tone strikingly different from the way he had spoken to those boys, not that you would notice, his voice commands enough respect that has a way of making everything else go still.

it takes a second for your brain to catch on to the familiarity of his name. rafe. hm. rafe? oh my god. rafe.

sarah’s old brother. the president of delta chi, who you had heard so much about, yet somehow, never seen. according to your sister, cecily, he’s never seen at his parties because he’s upstairs fucking any girl he lays his eyes on.

your eyes clearly match your surprise, and he clocks instantly that you now recognise him. he’s heard about you, obviously. every single man here has been trying their luck with you all night. and every other night that you float into their vision.

he also clearly clocks that the phone you’re retrieving isn’t yours, looking down at cracked, pink, iphone 13 already safely in your hand.

“that your friends?” he snaps you out of your daze.

“oh, yeah, you know hanna? she’s outside with sarah, toppers getting them.”

disapproval flashes over his face at the mention of toppers name. “seriously, sarah’s still going out with that, jesus.”

“hey!! they’re in love!” you slur over your words again, in a way that makes him raise his eyebrows, but he doesn’t comment.

“come on, i’ll walk you out, so you can give that to your friend.”

“oh no, that’s fine, i’m going with them anyways.” you shout as he turns you by your shoulders out pushes you gently by the small of your back out of the kitchen.

he parts the crowd as he walks by, in a way that makes you want to huff, scoff and promptly undress.

he doesn’t seem to pay any mind to your comment about you going with his sister, and your not sure if it’s because he doesn’t care, or if he has other plans.

once you free yourself from the sweating confines of the frat, you breath in the fresh air and slightly quieter night.

you spot hanna and sarah still sitting on the curb of the pavement, hugging eachother for warmth.

before you can shout that you’ve found the phone. rafe grabs your arm and is now able to audibly whisper in your ear.

“you’ll come to my room when they leave, i can help you get home afterwards?” which he phrases as a question, but it’s not.

shivers run visibly down your spine when you finally realise what he’s implying, and you shudder from what could be passed off as the cold air.

before you can ask him which room and where it is, he turns on his heel and disappears back into the crowd of moving bodies.

you stand frozen for about ten seconds before sarah turns around and waves you over.

toppers car is now parked infront of them and hanna has already moved into the backseat with help from sarah.

you walk at a fast pace over to the blonde and place the phone-as firmly as your drunk body can, in her hand.

“umm hey, so i think im gonna stay for a bit longer, like, carly just said she’d drop me off later, i met her in the hall and- you know.” you speak, quicker than normally, wondering where all this enthusiasm is coming from.

sarahs slightly tipsy mind contemplates for a second before she decides, “okay girl!! have fun, don’t get too dicked down!!!” she squeals at the end, clearly not picking up on your obvious tone.

“bye guysss.” you wave off at the car as sarah gets in and topper offers a polite nod before driving away.

the small trip upstairs is agonizing, you spend the entire time wondering what rafe had meant, i mean, he barely knew you, you thought.

still, your thoughts started shifting to between your legs as you start opening and shutting doors when the people inside the room shout profanities at you for opening it.

you imagine what he had done to those girls, for them to speak about him likes he had hung the moon and stars.

you imagine him doing whatever that may be, to you.

would he push your head down and have you on your knees?

would he worship you until you were begging him to stop?

would he go slow and deep or would he fuck you like his life depends on it?

as that thought crosses your mind, you decide to try your luck on the room you and sarah had previously scooped hanna up from.

when the door clicks open, you’re not met with scandalised eyes trying to cover themselves, or even the couples who are so drunk that they don’t even notice the clicking noise.

you’re met with rafe. he’s fixing a shirt on what you now know is his chest of drawers. his king sized bed. his en-suite. his so very frat boy decor. his everything.

“hey angel.” he greets, looking up as you shut his door and click the lock over.

“um, hi.” he moves calculatedly over to your place infront of the door and collides his face with yours.

before you even have time to question him, ask him what he’s doing, why he didn’t go for someone else at the start of the party, or even if he had gone to someone else, you’re kissing him back.

he starts slow, but the second your tongue brushes along his lower lip, he freezes for a second, malfunctioning, before gripping your chin and hold you in place to deepen the kiss.

it’s messy. really messy. probably thanks to you, your spit was already all over his chin from occasionally missing him mouth and licking at his face, although he seems to return it with the same fervour, gripping over your dress and digging his nails over your ass.

he turns you and starts moving you towards his bed, now his go to lick into everywhere he can possibly reach, as fast as possible.

he sits in the edge of the bed and pulls you down with him, gasping and catching his breath already.

your legs are on either side of his hips and he groans a cry of pleasure when your press down onto his hard cock.

“jesus fuck.” he pants along your neck when you continue to rock up and down onto him, his jeans occasionally snagging over your wanting clit.

the thought crosses your mind that sarah would probably be so happy to see you finally picking someone to get laid by, but not as happy that you’re about to fuck her brother.

before you can stop yourself, you let out a slightly rude laugh into shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

he pulls away from your neck and looks up at you quizzically.

“uh, what was that?” he questions. “i was just giggling, chill.” you state, suppressing another laugh at picturing sarah’s face when she finds out.

“are you serious, that was not a giggle. you full on laughed.” he stares like he’s connecting pieces of a puzzle on your face, which from this angle only makes him more appealing.

after a beat. “how much have you had to drink?”

the question catches you slightly off guard, whatever was in those red cups were clearly catching up to you now.

“well, not a lot, i mean, obviously i pregamed though.” you nod at him as if to say ‘duh.’

“your friend said you weren’t drunk.”

a look of confusion passes over your face “huh, when did you talk to my friends?” you say, now very confused.

“like maybe half an hour ago, hanna, anna, maybe?” he studies you once again, still slightly wearing that smirk.

“ohhhh, yeah. that makes sense. i’m like, dry january sober compared to hanna either way.” you laugh at your own joke.

you shift slightly and his still very obvious erection presses back onto your clit. you completely forget all about sarah and attempt to grind down on him again.

he grabs your hips and holds them in place firmly, leaving no room for argument, even though it looks like it physically pains him to stop you, and he has to shut his eyes.

“look, not tonight.” he speaks, looking up at you again, pupils blown out from the previous adrenaline.

you visibly pout at him in a way that no one would catch you dead doing sober.

before you even have time to wonder why he won’t just fuck you, why he won’t just do what he seems to do with every other girl, he’s lifting you up like he’s going to move you off him before she shifts his own legs and this time, places you between one of his thighs.

“you’re not gonna fuck me?” you ask, still not fully sure of what he’s trying to do.

“no, you can do it yourself, i’ve been waiting for a while to talk to you, i’ll wait a night more.” he watches the realisation dawn on your face at what he’s asking you to do, a mix of shock and desperate, desperate arousal.

the way he speaks, hard and cold, but also excessively cocky and egotistical, has you moving all of your weight onto his singular leg.

“there you go.” he looks rough. still not cracking a full emotion, but now extremely sharp around the edges, still heavy breathing.

he’s going to watch you get off on his thigh. it turns you on so much that you almost moan before the first movement of your hips, but when you feel the way his muscles tense under you, just for your pleasure, you don’t hold back.

he’s now playing with your ass, hands under your underwear, as you rock yourself back and forth on the denim on his leg.

your mouth is strung open and your eyes are squeezed shut as you feel yourself getting close embarrassingly quick.

rafe is peppering sloppy wet kisses over your neck and down past your collarbone, moaning almost as loud as you when he sees his brand new jeans completely ruined by the slick dripping out of you and onto him with every movement.

“yeah that’s it, feels good doesn’t it?” he strains, physically holding himself back from flipping you onto your stomach and having you exactly how he wants you.

“mhm, yes.” you reply over a whimper you didn’t think you had in you. the pressure is so close to snapping inside you that all that leaves your mouth is strings of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ when he asks you if you want to cum.

he reaches down to where you’re now desperately humping his leg and slides your underwear to the side, hearing the pathetic cry that leaves your mouth in response.

“fuck, oh my god, please please-” it all snaps when he pulls you back by your ass and viciously pushes you back onto his flexing leg.

your mouth opens wider than before- if possible, nothing coming out for a few seconds before a needy, whorish whine leaves you and you’re panting into the crook of his neck, still riding your high- with his help and biting into the flesh of his shoulder.

he gives you a good minute of helping you slow down the drag across his thigh, which is now soaked to the point that he can feel you seeping through to his bare skin.

he lifts your chin up so you can properly hear what he’s about to say.

he almost stutters when he sees you, still panting, mouth wide open and pliant, hair a mess. but he doesn’t.

“come around tomorrow.” which exploits a soft ‘mhm’ from your sore throat, nodding up at him, now completely putty in his hands.

“did that feel good?” he whispers, leaning into your ear when you nod again in approval.

“imagine what i can do with my cock.”

#i will proof read later #also i changed the name of this it was supposed to be inliinwy #i was gonna do full sex but like nah cba #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #obx #sarah cameron x reader #works✧₊⁺#drew starkey x reader

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felassan · 6 months ago

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David Gaider on Cassandra (the last of these retrospective character threads), under a cut for length:

"This is the last of the (major) characters I wrote during my time on Dragon Age. I could go into others, and considered moving onto Stray Gods... but I feel like fewer would be interested, and I honestly can't keep up the pace. So let's make this the last, for now. So, yeah. Cassandra. We knew early on that Cassandra would come into DAI as a companion, along with Varric, that this was part of what DA2 set up for the sequel. Now, I'd written Cassandra's short scenes in DA2, yes, but I wasn't her writer for DAI. Initially, she was Jennifer Hepler's character. By mid-project, in fact, Cassandra was more or less fully written. Jennifer did a great job - solid character, solid quest. The sticking point, it turned out, was her romance. Now, to be fair, Jennifer told me straight up when we began that writing romance wasn't her forte, but she'd give it a go. The problem with the romance as she wrote it wasn't in its execution but more a clash between the character as Jennifer envisioned her and the requirements of her being a romance. See, I mentioned previously that a romance arc inherently limits the kinds of stories you can tell with a companion. Many responses I got can be summed up as "lol skill issue", but consider this: a companion romance isn't a fic you can just throw up on AO3. It's an investment of a lot of resources. If a companion has one, most of their resources need to be devoted to it - it's not "now let's ALSO add a romance"."

"That means it needs to take priority in who they are as a character and their arc. What's more, they need to be *appealing* to a big chunk of the player base - or at least someone we can imagine being broadly appealing, anyway. Thankfully, there are still many many stories this can accommodate. 😊 This, however, wasn't one of those. Was Cassandra a fascinating character? Absolutely. Her romance, though... Well, Jennifer DID warn me. She'd written Cassandra as a serious, self-righteous, pious woman who put the Inquisitor on a messianic pedestal. Romancing her meant changing her view of you. You did this by being... pushy. Jennifer didn't mean it to, I'm sure, but sometimes it came off as, at best, negging. At worst, a bit harassy. And Jennifer would have fixed it. This was a 1st draft, and the issues - while serious - were something a skilled writer like her could handle. No problem. Thing is, Jennifer left. You may not remember, but this was around the time a bunch of GamerGate dudes decided Jennifer was somehow responsible for ALL of BioWare's faults. Oh, the power she wielded! She, a writer, could even command the combat Bio made! The result was a LOT of ugly harassment. 😞 Is this why she left? You'd have to ask her, but it undoubtedly didn't help. The important thing is, she left - and there was nobody as senior nor as superhumanly fast as her to take over any unfinished work. This is where Patrick Weekes comes in: a solid, senior writer who could fill her shoes."

"It was great timing - not only did Cassandra need a writer, I'd slowly fallen more and more behind. It was clear by that point that I'd never be able to write Dorian AND Cole AND Solas as planned. They needed to pick up two. And I let them choose the ones who interested them, like all my writers. Patrick taking Solas was no surprise, and while I had Big Plans for Solas in the future I knew at least he'd be in good hands. I was reeeeaaaally hoping Patrick would then pick Cassandra... but they wanted Cole. My baby. Who I created in Asunder. I grumped, but Patrick clearly loved the character. They had ideas for Cole which... yeah yeah, sounded cool. Fiiine. 😅 Now I had to figure out what *I* was going to do with Cassandra. We couldn't move the romance to someone else, all the other female characters were well underway, and I didn't know the character well enough to fix her with tweaks. That meant a re-write. I didn't WANT to erase all that good work, but I needed to start from scratch. Yet how? A pious, self-righteous character was already a risk in terms of romantic appeal. There are only a small number of traits sorta considered universally unappealing but they're on that list. In this instance, Cassandra already being a known character helped. I came across a webcomic (by aimo, I think? AHH I wish I could find it now) that made a joke about Cassandra reading Varric's books. Off-hand, no basis for it, but funny. 😆 And I thought: YES. THAT'S IT. THAT'S WHAT I'M MISSING."

"I sat down and wrote the "fangirl" scene, just to test it out. Everyone loved it, and it served to change my image of who Cassandra was - a view of the inside, at the idealistic and awkward passion she felt, for so many things... AND the Maker. "Yes," I thought. "I could fall in love with this." Who knew Cassandra could be funny? Not anyone, coming out of DA2, yet here we were. It worked so well and her voice came so easily. Miranda Raison was game ofc, and amazing. Though Caroline did gripe that, if we ever met more Nevarrans THAT accent meant we'd have the Tali Problem all over again. 😅 Cassandra's romance is burned into my brain as the time when we THE most awkward conversation with the animators ever. See, that moment during the sex scene on the picnic blanket when she leans back and... there were suddenly these strategically-placed candles, juuuust covering the Sordid Bits. Thing is, they were so obviously placed just to do that. Plus, we'd already decided to do full nudity in DAI, hadn't we? WHY WERE THEY EVEN THERE? Turns out, the nudity thing was still pretty new to the team. They'd forgotten and put the candles there almost as a reflex. So prudish. So Canadian. 😂 I do find it kind of funny that, these days, what I mostly hear about Cassandra is from female fans upset at me because she wasn't a lesbian option. I mean, right? Who wouldn't want that? Technically not my decision, but I guess I WAS behind the companions having set preferences so... fair enough?"

"Some of them do take it to an entitled place, though, like Cassandra *should* have been a lesbian. Why? Because she looks like one, apparently, and that that's a bit of stereotyping which feels... odd? But it's not as if lesbian players are spoiled for choice left and right, so again: fair enough. It did lead to the best end credits VO perhaps ever, and overall I'm pretty happy with how Cassandra panned out. Things never end up like you expect, right? But such is game dev lyfe. 🥸🖖 Did you know Cassandra was THE most-romanced DAI character, by a good margin? Least, by a good margin? Dorian."

[source thread]

User: "Did you have any hand in her writing for Dawn of the Seeker?" David Gaider: "No, none. Nobody at BioWare had any hand in Dawn of the Seeker, outside of maybe Mike approving the script or direction? Only he could say for sure." [source]

User: "Was Miranda a specific casting choice by anyone on the team (similar to your picks for Merrill/Fenris/Solas), or was she simply a lucky find? I loved Miranda on the BBC series "Spooks", so I was very pleasantly surprised to learn she voiced one of my favourite DA characters" David Gaider: "I don’t remember how Miranda was cast. Auditioned, I expect, and she had a good “steely warrior voice” which is surprisingly uncommon among actresses. The accent she made up was all her, as well." [source]

User: "What's the Tali Problem?" David Gaider: "When Tali was the only Quarian, the actress doing a made-up accent was fine. Once there were others… do we get them all to mimic her? That’s a tall order!" [source]

User: "I'd say Solas is the most popular nowaday, but you need to be such a specific race/gender combo + most straight guys wouldn't go for him, i get hes not on top of the list, but I'd have expected Josephine over Cass." David Gaider: "You can’t go by how fans online talk about playing the game. There is almost zero correlation between the playstyles of the vocal hardcore and the masses." [source]

User: "I was a Dorianmancer. The cut content in Trespasser DLC was sad to read, it definitely felt short/abrupt for Dorianmancers. Anyway to share what was cut at all?" David Gaider: "I don’t know what was cut out of the conversation, as I never played it. I just heard about it after the fact." [source]

User: "Those end credits are truly incredible. Do you remember who wrote them? I'm guessing a combination of Mary Kirby & you?" David Gaider: "I wrote them, but I recall the entire team kind of took part in brainstorming the pieces of it." [source]

User: "I’m very curious- Do you know what direction you would have taken Cole and his story if you’d kept him?" David Gaider: "It's hypothetical at this point, but I suspect I would have been less willing to lose the serial killer aspect... or, at least, would have made that transition occur as part of his arc in DAI. Yet that's easy to say from this side of the divide. Who knows, really?" [source]

User: "With Cassandra you created one of the best characters in DA history." David Gaider: "Personally, my favorite response of hers is where she gets mocked for loving romance and she comes back with a retort about how it's a strength - how loving something and striving for the ideal takes courage. To me, that's central to her core." [source]

User: "inquiry: did you not write any of the Awakening characters?" David Gaider: "I wrote Anders, Justice, and Nathaniel in Awakening - but it was such a hurried project, my memories of it are pretty much a blur. "Yes, I worked on that" is almost all I can say about it, I'm afraid." [source]

#dragon age #bioware #cassandra pentaghast #my lady paladin #video games #long post #longpost #solas #cole #spirit boy #harassment cw #mass effect #fenris #the fenaissance

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starhvney · 5 months ago

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Hello, Star! This is my first time requesting a fic from anyone! I absolutely adore your writing 💖 It's been especially lovely since my Aphmau Hyperfixation came back full force this year(as I'm sure it did for everyone else 😂) I'd like to place an order for Zane, Garroth, and Lawrence, please, from Mys😊 A tea, with cream, and cinnamon rolls on the side 🥰 I hope you have a wonderful night ✨

𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟒: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫!!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: romantic tension, fluff, snowy storm

𝐚/𝐧: thank you so much, i’m honored to fulfill your first request!!! i hope you have a wonderful day/night, too!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐄

The smack of snow against Zane’s chest interrupts the peaceful moment between the two of you, pulling a groan of annoyance to leave his lips. His face whips up at your scorningly, though not slightly intimidating to you.

“Hey!”

Your laughter erupts across the backyard as you watch Zane swipe away the snow from his coat, his nose wrinkling and eye narrowing at you. The reflection of the white snow against his face made his irises practically glow, both beautiful against his dark hair and almost startling when he’d glare at you.

“What the hell was that?” he huffs, pointing at you accusingly.

You calm yourself down enough to quiet giggles, clasping your hands together. “A snowball!”

“You’re lucky I actually enjoy your company. Or you’d be dead for that,” he warns, the “anger” in his voice lack of any real backing. “You’re lucky I even came out here while it was about to storm to build a snowman with you! I’m freezing!”

“Oh come on, Zane. I didn’t even throw it hard,” you rebuttal, holding your arms out. “You can get a free shot.”

He seems to consider it, before shaking his head, turning away. “Whatever…”

You snort, returning to continue building up the base of your snowman. You don’t get one roll in before a ball of snow smashes into your shoulder, knocking you over onto your side with a yelp. Boisterous laughter erupts, this time with you on the receiving end of the evil satisfaction.

“Ugh… that was dirty,” you groan, wiping off the snow that hit your face as more falls on your head from the sky.

Crunched footsteps approach you, a shadow covering your hunched form. He continues to snicker as he looks down at you, his already tall figure seeming like a looming giant.

“Oh come on, I didn’t even throw it that hard,” he says in a mocking tone, tilting his head with a raise of his brows.

“Yeah well I didn’t knock you over!” you argue, before relenting with a sigh. “Fine… lesson learned.”

He seems appeased enough with your mumbles, hands grasping onto your shoulders and lifting you back up to your feet. His hands brush the remaining snow from your hair and jacket, shrugging his shoulders.

“Good. Know to never challenge me, or I-“

“Oh shush.” Your hand lightly shoves his shoulder back. “Are we gonna make this snowman or what?”

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇

The power has been out for thirty minutes by now. Wind whistles against the side of the house, whipping the snow over the yard and covering the lights that lined the sidewalk. Seeing them fight to glow even as the white blanket covered them was mesmerizing, so much so that you hadn’t noticed Garroth leaving your side until he came back.

“Staying warm?” His voice carries across the living room, his footsteps padding over to your side.

You turn to look up at him, glancing over at the space heater that was trying its hardest to pump some hot air into the rapidly cooling house.

“Mhm,” you hum, despite how the chill was starting to get to you. Your fingers and toes felt like ice cubes.

Regardless of your answer, a thick blue sweater gets tossed onto your face, the familiar scent of his detergent surrounding you.

“Well… there’s a sweater so you can stay warm. I think the battery in that thing lasts long but I still don’t want you to be cold if it turns off,” he says sweetly, eyes darting away as he moves something else behind his back.

“Oh, thanks,” you murmur, eagerly taking hold of the thick material and pulling it over you. “Uh, what’s that?”

He offers you a straight-toothed smile. “You said you were bored. Soo-“ His hand reveals a portable bluetooth speaker. “I thought of something we can do.”

You raise your brow, a small chuckle leaving your lips. “Which would be…?”

He doesn’t respond at first, setting the speaker down on the window sill and pressing play. A romantic, festive song starts to play as he holds both hands out to you—bowing like a gentleman as he waits for you to take them.

“A dance?”

A disbelieved huff leaves your lips, though you can’t help the growing smile spreading across your face. A warm large hand lands on your waist when you’re on your feet, bringing you close to him as he guides you around the dim living room.

He begins to hum, not quite on tune with the music—exaggerating his voice as he dips you. It successfully gains him a sweet giggle from your lips; which he returns with a satisfied chuckle.

“You are so corny,” you lightheartedly tease as you’re scooped back up to your feet.

“Maybe. But you’re smiling,” he spins you, expression soft when he pulls you back in. “So my goal was achieved.”

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

“I want to open a restaurant someday.”

The warm fire crackling next to the both of you reflects off Laurance’s face, the orange glow flickering across his handsome features as he looks off with a dream distant in his eyes. His hair was messy, not bothered to be styled as the snow storm billows against the windows, trapping you both inside.

“Restaurants are a lot of work, but I think you can do that. You’d be amazing,” you assure him, resting your arms on your knees as you shift on the floor. You two were so close to each other now, too close for any normal friendship.

He smiles softly at you, eyes shifting to yours again as he leans forward. “Oh, you think so? That I’m amazing?”

A flush rushes over your cheeks. “I said you would be. But you are amazing now, yeah…”

He looks smug, but doesn’t comment on your clear embarrassment, instead tilting his head. “Mm… and what do you want? In the future?”

You swallow, looking away from his intent gaze as you try to gather yourself. “A few different things. I guess one of them is to travel.”

“I’ll take you there.”

Your heart stutters in its already uneven pace. This man would be the end of you. He said that so assuredly, so full of confidence. He knew what he was doing every time he’d “accidentally” brush his hand over yours or stare at you like he was all yours to have.

“…What?”

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go. We can travel together someday.” He holds out his pinky finger, batting his eyelashes at you in expectation. “Promise?”

You resist the small urge to roll your eyes at his smug, flirtatious behavior. He’d never let up on it for as long as you’ve known him, and at the rate he’d been doubling down on it recently you doubt he would ever stop.

His pinky links with yours as you meet him in the middle, sealing the deal with the childish gesture. An excited grin threatens to burst on his lips, but before you could comment he twists your hand into his bringing it up to his mouth to softly breathe against them.

“Your hands are too cold,” he explains, raising an eyebrow at you when you only gape your mouth open in response.

“You know… there’s a few other things I want in the future, too…” he murmurs, pressing the palm of your hand against his cheek. “Wanna hear it?”

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

taglist: @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @valentique @arienic @dazedbydeath @theaquaticplant @starsbrightly @kalegrinch @izzybella1807 @marst4rz

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movingmusically · 2 months ago

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Hi love, I hope your day is going well! I really enjoy your work, and I wanted to request something based on the Vanity Fair interview with Austin making the paper roses. It could be a one shot, either he makes them for the reader or maybe they could have a competition or something since Austin's mentioned that he can be quite competitive. Thank you so much if you get to write this 😊

Author’s Note:

@saturnsdaughtr thank you for always taking the time to comment on my fics—I just wanted to say, I really appreciate it. Your comments genuinely make my day whenever I see them. That goes for anyone else who takes the time to comment, too—it really does mean a lot. Hope this one hits the mark!

Word Count: 5.6k

Masterlist

Paper Roses

The studio lights cast a soft glow over the intimate set, bouncing off black leather booths and scattered red napkins. There was something cinematic about it—like an old Hollywood film, polished yet intimate. You stood just off-camera, leaning against the back wall, watching Austin settle into the plush black booth.

He looked unfairly good. Tousled blonde curls, sharp cheekbones, that high shine black coat slipping off his shoulders just enough to tease the white tank underneath, layered necklaces resting against his collarbone. His sleeves pushed up just enough to expose his forearms, the glint of his gold bracelet catching under the lights as he flexed his fingers, smoothing out the napkin in front of him. You were supposed to be focusing on the interview, but how could you when he looked like that?

“And then you can just, you hide it—” he tucked the half-formed rose behind his back, then glanced at someone off-camera. You. “Come here.”

Your heart skipped at the way his voice dipped, warm and teasing. He gestured again, smirking now. “Come here, I’m talking to you.”

The crew laughed, and you shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest as if that would stop the way your stomach flipped.

Austin’s smirk lingered, eyes locked on yours for a beat too long before he turned back to the camera. But the amusement in his voice when he started over? That was just for you. "Alright," he exhaled, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeve. "Tonight, I'm gonna show you how to make a napkin rose."

The way he said it, smooth as velvet, sent a flutter through your chest. You bit the inside of your cheek, suppressing a grin.

As he began folding the napkin, you noticed the slight tremor in his fingers—subtle, but there. He was nervous. That was the thing about Austin; no matter how much confidence he radiated on the outside, there were always these little tells if you knew where to look. The slight swallow before he spoke, the way he ran his tongue along his bottom lip before pressing them together. You always noticed.

He smoothed the napkin over his palm, fingers deftly folding and twisting. “My sister was in high school when I was in elementary school,” he said, glancing up at the camera with a small, nostalgic smile. “And there was this guy, Chaggo—Brazilian, coolest kid at her school. He taught me how to do this.”

You’d heard bits of the story before, but never like this. His voice was soft, laced with admiration, like that little boy still lived somewhere inside him, awestruck by the cool older kid.

He twisted the napkin again, knuckles flexing, veins shifting beneath the surface of his skin. His hands were mesmerising—the precision, the careful way he manipulated the delicate material. You couldn’t stop staring.

“See, it’s good for when you’re out and don’t have real roses on hand,” he continued, a small smile tugging at his lips as he shaped the petals. “If you like a girl—or a guy—you can just, y’know… whip one of these out.”

Your breath caught.

You weren’t sure if he even realised it, but he was smirking. The type that made your stomach dip, the type that usually meant trouble.

He worked the napkin with surprising ease, fingers deft and careful as he wrapped and twisted the delicate folds. You should have been paying attention to what he was saying, but it was impossible not to get distracted by the way he moved. How gentle his hands were, the way he pinched and smoothed the edges with precision, poking at the napkin to create the illusion of petals.

He continued talking, something about how he’d used the trick in Elvis, but you barely processed it. Your attention had narrowed to the steady, practiced movement of his fingers—the precision, the ease, the way he handled something so fragile with such effortless control.

Austin twisted the napkin between his fingers, slowly bending the outer edge back to make it look more realistic.

“Try to be delicate with it,” he murmured, head tilting slightly as he bent the napkin between his fingers. "Cause you don't wanna rip it."

You exhaled sharply. He had no idea how hot that was, did he? His big, careful hands, the way his fingers traced the creases. He murmured, almost absently, “Sometimes you gotta get in there…” as he adjusted the centre of the rose—

Christ. He had to know.

The smirk. The flicker of amusement in his eyes. The way he lingered just a second too long—like he wanted you to notice.

Oh yeah. He definitely knew.

His lips twitched as he pinched the stem between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it one last time before holding it up with a small, satisfied smile.

“Yeah…” he said, examining his handiwork. “And that's how you make a rose out of a napkin.”

And then—like he could feel the heat of your gaze—he looked up. Right at you.

You rolled your eyes, but your face felt warm.

Hours later, Austin was back in his usual post-long-day attire—grey sweatpants slung low, a worn-out band tee, barefoot as he padded into the living room. He ran a hand through his curls, tousling them even more before flopping onto the couch with a sigh.

You dropped onto the cushions beside him, tucking your legs underneath yourself as you glanced at the coffee table, where the restaurant napkins from dinner were still sitting in a small pile. You nudged one with your finger, unable to shake the memory of his fingers folding and twisting the delicate paper.

“Think you could teach me how to do it?” you asked, nudging him with your foot.

Austin glanced over, one brow lifting in amusement. “The napkin rose?”

“Yeah.” You reached for one of the napkins and held it up. “It was cute.”

He smirked. “You were checking me out the whole time, weren’t you?”

“I was watching the interview,” you corrected.

Austin just smirked. “Mmm. Sure.”

But the truth was, yeah, you had been. And judging by the way he was looking at you now—one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch, amusement dancing in his eyes—he knew it, too.

Still, he sat up and took a napkin from your hands, scooting closer until his thigh was pressed against yours. “Alright,” he murmured, voice dipping just slightly as he smoothed the napkin out over his knee. “First, fold over one end like this, and then you just start wrapping.”

Austin leaned in, watching as you tried to mirror his movements. You folded one end over, twisting the fabric between your fingers.

“You’re holding it too tight,” he murmured.

You rolled your eyes. “Am I?”

“Mmhm.” He leaned in closer, one hand bracing on the couch beside you. “You gotta be delicate with it.”

The heat from his body seeped into your side as he leaned in, hands brushing over yours.

“See?” His voice was quieter now, rougher. “Loosen your grip a little. Let the fabric move with you.”

Your breath hitched.

It was just a napkin. Just paper and soft touches and—

God, he smelled good.

Focus.

You followed his lead, allowing him to guide your fingers. His hands were so much bigger than yours, rougher in some places, but his touch was impossibly gentle.

“Now twist,” he murmured, his breath warm against your cheek.

You swallowed hard, trying to mimic the way his fingers moved, but yours felt clumsy compared to his. “Like this?”

Austin glanced at your attempt, biting his lip. “Not quite.”

“What? What’s wrong with it?”

He huffed out a small laugh. “It kinda looks like a… wilted tulip.”

You gasped. “Oh, you’re a jerk.”

He was full-on grinning now, all mischief and teasing. “I’m just saying—”

“Alright, let’s make it a competition,” you interrupted, grabbing another napkin. “Best rose wins.”

Austin’s smile widened, his competitive streak flaring instantly. “Oh, you’re on, baby.”

For the next ten minutes, the room was filled with intense focus—at least on your part. Austin, of course, looked completely at ease, working quickly while you struggled with each fold. He’d occasionally glance over at your progress, lips twitching, but said nothing.

Finally, you both held up your finished roses. Yours was… well, it wasn’t the worst thing you’d ever made, but next to his? It looked pitiful.

Austin tilted his head, feigning deep consideration before finally speaking. "Mmm... not bad." His smirk gave him away.

You gasped. "Oh, you ass—best out of three."

His lips curled. “Oh, you really wanna lose, huh?”

And just like that, it was on.

Folding. Twisting. Talking shit between laughs. Austin got progressively more competitive, and you were desperate to beat him at least once.

But of course, the man was insufferably good at it.

He smoothed down the petals of his latest masterpiece, setting it beside his growing collection. “How many does that make now?”

“Too many,” you grumbled, glaring at your latest attempt—still lopsided, still amateur.

Austin reached out, plucking it from your hands. He turned it over, pretending to admire it. “It’s got… character.”

You groaned. “Shut up.”

He chuckled, then without hesitation, he reached out, gently tucking his perfect napkin rose behind your ear. His fingers lingered, knuckles brushing your cheek, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

“There,” he murmured, voice low. “Perfect.”

Your breath caught.

Something about the way he was looking at you—the way his eyes flicked between yours and your lips, the way his thumb traced the edge of your jaw—made the playful atmosphere shift into something heavier.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you breathed.

His fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face up just enough. His breath was warm, the space between you thick with something electric. His gaze flicked down—just for a second—before finding yours again. "You wanna go for best out of five?" he murmured.

You scoffed, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Oh, piss off.”

Austin grinned, shameless.

You exhaled a small laugh, reaching up to touch the napkin rose. “Besides, I think you’ve already won.”

His smirk faded into something softer. “Yeah,” he murmured.

And then, he kissed you.

There was no hesitation, no slow build—just heat, immediate and consuming. His hand slid into your hair, fingers tangling at the nape of your neck as he pulled you in, tilting his head to deepen the kiss before you could even catch your breath.

You barely had a second to process it before his other hand was on your hip, gripping, pulling, pressing you closer. The space between you disappeared in an instant, his body warm, solid, all heat and intent.

His goatee tickled against your skin, the rough scrape of it igniting something unexpected. It wasn’t the first time he’d kissed you since he started growing it out, but you still weren’t used to it.

You inhaled sharply at the sensation, fingers tightening in his t-shirt as you let yourself sink further into the kiss.

Austin must’ve noticed, because his lips curled against yours in a knowing smirk before he angled his head, dragging the coarse hairs deliberately over your jaw.

You shivered.

You inhaled sharply, fingers fisting into his t-shirt. “Austin.”

That should have been a warning. It wasn’t.

Austin exhaled a quiet laugh, warm and teasing. “Still getting used to this?” he murmured against your throat, lips brushing over the spot where your pulse jumped.

Your stomach flipped.

He felt different like this. Looked different, too.

The softer, cleaner lines of his face had been replaced with something rougher, sharper. The scruff along his jaw made him look older, a little more dangerous—all in a way you liked too much.

And then there were the tattoos.

They weren’t real, but they might as well have been. The ink peeked out from under the sleeves of his worn-out t-shirt, bold against his sun-kissed skin.

The scruff, the tattoos, the newness of how he felt under you—yeah, you were getting used to it.

And you liked it.

His thumb traced your jaw, tilting your face up, and you knew he could see it all over you. The way you were already falling apart for him, the way you’d spent all day watching him, fingers twisting, pressing, folding delicate paper into shape—

And now those hands were on you.

Austin hummed, slow and satisfied, his voice dropping low. “I saw you staring earlier.”

You swallowed. “You were showing off.”

He smirked. “Maybe.” His hand slid down your side, slow and lazy. “Did it work?”

You didn’t answer. Not verbally, anyway.

Instead, you shifted, pushing him back against the couch as you climbed onto his lap, legs bracketing his thighs.

Austin stilled for half a second—just long enough for his fingers to flex against your waist—before his hands tightened, pulling you flush against him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, breath rough.

That one syllable sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

His grip tightened, knuckles pressing into your skin like he was trying to keep himself in check, but you weren’t interested in restraint.

You kissed him again, sinking into it, rolling your hips just slightly—just enough to test, to tease, to see how far you could push him.

Austin groaned, low and desperate, and that was it.

His hands moved—one sliding up your back, the other gripping your hip, guiding your movements, pressing you down against him.

The friction sent a spark of pleasure curling through you, sharp and sudden, and you gasped into his mouth.

Austin swallowed the sound, chasing it with another kiss, hungrier now, rougher, his teeth scraping along your bottom lip.

“Yeah,” he muttered, voice rough as his lips moved to your throat, his goatee burning hot against your skin. “Think I like this look, too.”

And from the way he was dragging you closer, gripping, rolling his hips up to meet yours—he didn’t just like it.

He was losing himself in it.

Austin kissed you like nothing outside of this—outside of you—existed. His goatee scraped along your skin with every tilt of his head, leaving behind a burn that only made you want more. His fingers flexed at your waist, gripping harder, pressing you further into his lap until you could feel every inch of him beneath you.

And God, he felt so good.

He was all lean muscle and warmth, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your palms. His t-shirt was thin, old, soft in the way only well-worn fabric could be, and you could feel the heat of his skin through it, could feel the way his muscles tensed when your hands wandered.

With a slow roll of your hips, you dragged your hands down his arms, over the sinewy muscle of his forearms, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your fingertips. Then, before he could react, you caught one of his hands, bringing it to your lips.

Austin stilled.

His eyes locked onto yours, heavy-lidded, burning with something dark and wanting. You held his gaze as you parted your lips, taking two of his fingers into your mouth, sucking lightly at first before hollowing your cheeks, running your tongue along the length of them.

“Jesus.” His breath punched out of him, his head falling back against the couch for half a second before he snapped his gaze back to you. His pupils were blown, his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths.

You bit down gently at the tip of his fingers before pulling back, letting them slide out of your mouth with a slow, deliberate drag. Austin let out a quiet, broken sound, his free hand tightening on your hip like he was trying to ground himself.

“Yeah?” you teased, voice saccharine, knowing exactly what you were doing.

Austin’s jaw flexed, his breath shuddering as his fingers—wet from your mouth—slid down your throat, pressing lightly against your pulse before trailing lower. He watched the way your breath hitched, the way your body arched into him, and his smirk turned downright sinful.

Austin's fingers trailed lower, skimming over the curve of your breast before dipping beneath the hem of your shirt. His touch was slow, teasing, deliberately unhurried as his palm flattened against your stomach, warm and firm.

Your breath hitched when he gripped the fabric and started lifting. You let him pull it off, tossing it somewhere behind the couch. The second it was gone, Austin’s hands were back on you, palms skimming up your sides, his thumbs grazing the underside of your breasts.

His gaze flicked over you, heavy, burning, lingering as his hands mapped every inch of newly exposed skin. "Fuck," he muttered, almost to himself. "You're so damn pretty."

Your stomach flipped at the reverence in his voice, but before you could respond, his mouth was on you again, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, across your collarbone, lower still. Every brush of his lips was chased by the rough scrape of his goatee, sending shivers dancing over your skin.

Then, his hands were moving again, sliding down your back, across your ribs, down to your hips—before one slipped lower.

Your breath hitched.

The fabric of your shorts was thin—too thin to stop the way you felt the heat of his fingers as they pressed against you, the way he cupped you, testing, teasing.

"Austin—" Your voice wavered, anticipation curling hot and tight in your stomach.

"Shhh." His other hand slid up your back, grounding you as he tilted his head, scraping his teeth along the curve of your jaw. "Let me feel you, baby."

And then—his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your shorts.

Your gasp melted into a moan the second he touched you properly. His fingers moved slow, deliberate, parting you, spreading you open before sliding through the slick heat he found there.

"Christ," Austin groaned, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he felt exactly how ready you were for him. "You been like this all day?"

You didn't answer, couldn't—not when he pressed his fingers in deeper, curling just right, stroking slow and purposeful.

"You have, haven’t you?" His voice was thick with smug satisfaction, his breath warm against your skin. "Spent all day watching me, thinking about this."

You whined, hips shifting into his hand, chasing the sensation, and he chuckled, low and dark.

"Yeah," he muttered, nipping lightly at your pulse. "Bet you wanted it bad, didn't you?"

You couldn't think, couldn't do anything but melt into him as his fingers worked you open, his palm dragging against your clit with every slow, devastating movement. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breath ragged, nails biting into his shoulders.

Austin groaned at the sharp press of your nails, his pace stuttering for half a second before he pushed in deeper, rougher. "Fuck, baby," he rasped. "Wish you could see yourself."

You whimpered, hips rolling into his touch, and that was it—he was done for.

"Here," he murmured, fingers slowing just enough to withdraw, slipping from your body with a wet drag. "Open up for me."

You barely had a second to react before he was pressing his fingers against your lips, waiting.

Your stomach flipped. Your heart nearly stopped.

Slowly, deliberately, you parted your lips, letting him slide them into your mouth.

Austin groaned, deep and husky, as you closed your lips around them, your tongue flicking over the taste of yourself on his skin.

"Fuck." His head tipped back against the couch, his grip on your waist tightening. "You're gonna kill me."

You sucked lightly, slow and teasing, dragging your tongue along the length of his fingers before pulling back with a soft pop.

Austin exhaled hard through his nose, his eyes nearly black as they flicked back to you. "Stand up."

You blinked, still catching your breath. "What?"

"Stand up," he repeated, hands gripping your hips as he helped guide you off his lap.

The second your feet hit the floor, Austin hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down your legs in one slow, fluid motion.

He stayed seated, but his gaze was burning into you as he took you in—naked, breathless, trembling.

Then, without a word, he shifted lower on the couch, stretching out, his broad shoulders sinking into the cushions.

And then he looked up at you.

"Come here, sweetheart," he rasped, hands gripping your thighs. "Sit."

Heat flooded your body, pooling low in your stomach at the sheer command in his voice.

You swallowed hard, stepping forward, placing your hands on the back of the couch to steady yourself as you swung one leg over his shoulders.

Austin hummed in satisfaction as you hovered above him, his hands smoothing over the outside of your thighs before gripping firmly.

"All the way," he murmured, voice thick. "I want to feel all of you."

You let him pull you down onto his mouth, and the second his tongue touched you, the world shattered.

Austin groaned the second you sank onto him, the sound vibrating through you, hot and hungry. His hands flexed against your thighs, fingers digging in, holding you exactly where he wanted you.

The first stroke of his tongue was slow—deliberate, tasting you, savouring you. Then, his grip tightened, and he pulled you closer, tilting his head, pressing deeper.

A choked moan slipped from your lips, your fingers curling into the couch cushions to keep yourself steady. The heat of his mouth, the rough scratch of his goatee against the sensitive skin of your thighs—it was overwhelming, intoxicating.

Austin hummed against you, his tongue flicking over your clit before he sucked it between his lips, and your whole body jerked.

“Jesus—Austin—”

He groaned at the way you said his name, one of his hands trailing up your side, settling at your ribs before sliding higher, palming your breast. His fingers flexed, teasing, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger as his mouth worked you over.

Your head tipped back, breath shuddering as he devoured you, every stroke of his tongue sending sparks shooting through your body. The burn of his goatee was relentless, scraping against your inner thighs with every move, adding a delicious, stinging contrast to the slick heat of his mouth.

Your legs started to shake, the pleasure building too quickly, too sharp, and Austin felt it.

His grip on your hip tightened. Your thighs clenched around his head, and he groaned like he fucking loved it.

Your hands scrambled for purchase, nails biting into the couch, hips rolling, chasing, desperate for more.

Austin exhaled a sharp breath through his nose, then—without warning—he pulled back just enough to suck two fingers into his mouth, wetting them before pressing them against you, sliding them in, filling you.

A ragged moan tore from your throat, your back arching as he curled his fingers, finding exactly what he was looking for.

“There,” he muttered, voice rough as his mouth found you again, tongue moving in time with his fingers, stroking, teasing, coaxing you closer.

It was too much.

Too good.

The rough scratch of his beard, the firm press of his fingers, the obscene sounds of his mouth on you—it was all too much.

Your legs trembled, the coil in your stomach tightening, ready to snap.

Austin felt it, knew it, and he went harder. He moaned against you again, deep and raw, and it sent you over the edge.

Your whole body clenched, pleasure washing over you in a dizzying, breathless wave. Your thighs squeezed around his head, your hips stuttering as the pleasure ripped through you, raw and unstoppable.

Austin groaned as you came, drinking in every last tremor, his tongue never stopping, his fingers never slowing, pushing you through it, dragging it out, making sure you felt everything.

Your body sagged, trembling, spent, and finally—finally—he slowed.

Austin pressed one last, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, then another, before gently guiding you off his face, helping you settle onto his lap. His hands smoothed over your thighs, up your sides, grounding you, steadying you.

Your chest was still heaving, your whole body still shaking, and he fucking smirked, proud and satisfied.

His goatee was glistening, his lips red and swollen, his eyes dark and hooded as he looked up at you.

Austin smirked, still dazed, still catching his breath, and then—without breaking eye contact—he sucked his fingers into his mouth, groaning quietly at the taste of you.

Your stomach flipped.

The heat in his gaze didn’t waver as he pulled his fingers free with a slow, deliberate pop. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “Thought you’d like this beard.”

Your thighs ached, sensitive from the rough burn of it, but God, you did.

And now it was his turn.

You moved before he could, pressing him back against the couch. Austin exhaled sharply, his jaw flexing, but he didn’t argue. He just let you push him back, his head tipping over the armrest as you slid down, fingers trailing down his stomach, dipping beneath the hem of his t-shirt. You felt the heat of his skin, the way his muscles tensed under your touch. You pushed the fabric higher, and he helped you, yanking it over his head before tossing it aside.

Fuck, he was beautiful.

Lean and golden, stomach flexing with every shaky breath, scattered freckles and moles peppering his skin. You traced them with your lips, your tongue, making your way lower, feeling his body tighten with anticipation beneath you.

Your fingers teased at the waistband of his sweatpants, and his breath hitched. His cock was already straining against the fabric, the outline thick and heavy, and just the sight of it had heat sparking between your legs all over again.

Tugging his sweatpants lower, you freed him, and your breath caught. He was thick, flushed dark with heat, precum already beading at the tip. A sharp, involuntary twitch made it jerk against his stomach, and your mouth watered.

Austin let out a sharp breath, watching you through heavy-lidded eyes, his stomach flexing when your fingers wrapped around him, slow and deliberate. He was hard, so fucking hard, thick and warm in your palm as you stroked once, twice, just to feel him twitch in your grip. His fingers curled into the couch, his throat bobbing on a swallow as he exhaled through his nose, his control already slipping.

"Shit," he muttered, voice rough as his head dropped back.

You hummed, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the tip, licking the precum from his slit just to taste him. He groaned, hips jerking slightly off the couch, but you pressed him back down with a firm hand, taking your time as you dragged your tongue down the underside of his length, letting him feel every inch of it.

"Fuck," Austin exhaled, his breath shaky. His free hand lifted, fingers threading through your hair, cradling your skull.

You let spit pool in your mouth, letting it drip over the head of him before taking him deeper, your lips stretching around his cock as you hollowed your cheeks. The wet sound of it filled the room, obscene, slick, and Austin let out a sharp, shuddering groan, his fingers tightening slightly in your hair.

“Jesus,” he choked out, his voice breaking slightly.

His head knocked back against the couch for half a second before he forced himself to watch, his pupils blown wide, jaw clenched so tight you thought it might shatter.

You moaned around him, the vibration making his whole body shudder beneath you. You pulled back slowly, letting your tongue swirl over the tip before taking him deeper again, sucking harder.

His grip on your hair tightened, his other hand fisted into the couch, knuckles white, like he was using every ounce of control not to fuck up into your mouth.

When you relaxed your throat, taking him even deeper, he finally gave in. His fingers flexed against your scalp, his grip shifting, guiding you down further, his hips rolling up into the heat of your mouth in slow, shallow thrusts.

He wasn’t quiet.

Austin let out a sharp, gasping moan, his thighs tensing beneath you. "You're—" he cut off, moaning when you swallowed around him, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, voice rough. "Too good at this."

You pulled off just slightly, meeting his gaze, letting your lips drag over the head of him. "Yeah?"

His eyes burned into yours. "Yeah."

Then, before you could tease him again, he surged forward, gripping your face, pulling you up into a desperate, messy kiss. His lips were insistent, searching, and his hands weren’t still for a second—gripping your hips, sliding down your back, curling into your thighs like he couldn’t get enough.

"C'mere," he murmured against your lips, voice rough, commanding.

He guided you into his lap, his hands steadying you as he rolled his hips up, searching for friction, searching for anything that would let him feel you closer.

Austin reached between you, wrapping his fingers around himself, dragging the flushed, heavy head of his cock through your slick, coating himself in it. His breath hitched, the muscles in his stomach flexing beneath your palms.

And then he pushed in.

Your mouth fell open, a sharp, breathless sound escaping as he stretched you, thick and unrelenting. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t go slow—he just filled you, deep and overwhelming, knocking the breath from your lungs.

Austin groaned, his hands flexing at your waist, his jaw clenching tight as he bottomed out. His grip shifted, sliding up your spine before curling around the back of your neck, tugging you down until your chest was flush against his.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered, his breath hot against your ear, voice low and strained.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you there as he rocked up into you, deep and deliberate, like he wanted to drown in you.

Every slow, devastating thrust had you gasping against his mouth, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your body moulding against his like you were made to fit him. His goatee scraped against your jaw as he tilted his head, lips dragging along your throat, biting down just enough to make you shudder.

"You feel so fucking good," he groaned, voice thick, hands pressing into your back, keeping you close, keeping you right where he wanted you.

Your breath hitched, every inch of your body on fire as he moved beneath you, thrusts deep and unrelenting, dragging pleasure from you with every snap of his hips.

Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging hard, and he groaned, the sound vibrating against your skin as his pace turned rougher, needier. He wasn’t holding back anymore, wasn’t trying to.

Austin’s breath came rough and uneven against your throat, his hands roaming, gripping, pulling—like he needed to feel every part of you, needed to consume you. His hips snapped up to meet yours, the wet, obscene sound of it filling the space between you.

You could barely breathe, barely think—just feel. The stretch of him, the heat of his skin, the way he filled you, deep and perfect, every drag and push against that spot inside you unraveling something hot and unbearable.

Austin felt it, knew it, and he wasn’t about to let up. One of his hands slid between you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight, teasing circles that made your whole body seize.

You gasped, hips stuttering, nails biting into his shoulders. “Fuck, Austin—don't stop.”

His teeth grazed your jaw, a moan catching in his throat. And just like that, you shattered.

The pleasure ripped through you so hard it left you gasping, shaking, your whole body tensing as the orgasm crashed over you, raw and consuming. His thrusts turned ragged, desperate. He was trying to hold on, to make it last, but the way you clenched around him—tight, perfect, unraveling him—tore a strangled moan from his throat. 'Fuck—baby—' his voice cracked, his fingers digging hard into your waist. He cursed sharply, and then he was gone, hips stuttering as he spilled deep, heat flooding between you as he groaned into your skin, undone and gasping.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The only sounds were your ragged breaths, the steady thrum of your heartbeats still trying to slow.

Then, Austin exhaled sharply, a breathless laugh escaping as he tipped his head back against the couch, his hands splaying over your back, warm and steady.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, voice hoarse. His lips curved, eyes flicking up to you, exhausted and utterly blissed out. "You tryin’ to kill me, sweetheart?"

You huffed out a laugh, forehead dropping against his. "Pretty sure you started it."

Austin grinned, satisfaction written all over him, and then—slowly, gently—he pulled you down into another kiss. This one was softer, lazy, just lips and warmth and the slow, delicious hum of aftershocks still buzzing through your veins.

He hummed against your lips, fingers tracing light, absentminded patterns against your spine. "We should probably move."

You sighed, letting your body relax against his. “Mmm. Later.”

Austin chuckled, arms tightening around you, perfectly content to stay right where he was. His fingers traced slow, lazy circles against your bare back, soothing, grounding. "Yeah," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Later."

Taglist:

@thefallofthedamned @saturnsdaughtr @bellesdreamyprofile @butlerrizz @myradiaz @chocolatetree222

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #fan fiction #fanfic #imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x you #austin butler fanfic #austin butler x #austinbutler #fiction

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andcars · 9 months ago

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★ 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗬 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗦 daniel ricciardo x f!reader

SUMMARY . . . # during the summer break , you and daniel decide to make it official . what better way than for both you and him to feature on each other's tracks ? daniel plays as the drummer and you are invited to an f1 race.

TAGS . . . # female reader , reader is part of a band , established relationship , softlaunching , slight suggestive content , the band is based of pre-existing ocs FIC STYLE. . . # social media (instagram + tiktok)

thehitbandofficial

liked by @ ynyn_unofficial @ ollieq._x @ jacoblorde @ penn4pennies @ danielricciardo and 154 others

We're getting the band back together!!

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thb_01 NEW ALBUM DROP??

olli4.jpg eating this shit up

lijahl4ves63 been bored as an f1 fan at least i can get content elsewhere

under_hitt FUCK YEAH!! LET'S GO

ynsfavetoe YN about to drop another hit we love herr

ric3.kiki wait danny ric is a fan of the hit band ??

ub4nforthis WAIT SERIOUSLY!? I DON'T FOLLOW HIM

dannyricxpodium @ ric3.kiki he's just like me

ollieq._x So... About the drummer 🤔

ynyn_unofficial he's finee don't worry about him

ollieq._x Uh huh...

ols_thb why they speaking like that what happened to penn ??

XOXloserclub didn't penny say she's taking a break?

lightsoutt33 @ ynyn_unofficial WHO'S "HE", PENNY USES SHE/HER?!?!

ynyn_unofficial i'm ready to go again

penn4pennies EWWW

ynyn_unofficial I SAID NOTHING WRONG??

penn4pennies That no one but us knows 🙄

visacashapprb ✔ Hang on in there everyone 💙 #Daniel Ricciardo #VCARB

racer4hire WE LOVE YOU DANNY RIC!!

georgiepig give us some more daniel content is the real challenge

danielsshoe3 what's he refering to when he says challenging

graveyardx_x maybe he finally took up riding a jetski like he claimed all those years ago

LanaDRIV3 Yea he probably doesn't struggle doing that

ynyn_tikkitok danny ric ric

cashedouthit YOU'RE AN F1 FAN TOO??

ynyn_tikkitok ki ki ki

visacashapprb Aye Aye Aye! 🤣🤣

georgiepig i cannot tell if that's an intern or daniel himself @ themiddleway

ynyn_unofficial

liked by @ ynyn_unofficial @ ollieq._x @ jacoblorde @ penn4pennies @ danielricciardo and 564 others

'LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY' is out now! Watch the MV and the Behind-The-Scenes on the official Youtube channel 😘😘

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XOXloserclub WAS THAT DANIEL FUCKING RICCIARDO ON THE DRUMS?!?!

under_hitt WHAT!? I DIDN'T SEE HIM IN THE MV

XOXloserclub HE'S IN THE BEHIND THE SCENES... I THINK HE PLAYED INSTEAD OF PENNY

lijahl4ves63 @ XOXloserclub two of my favourite things collabing is crazy 😭

ynsfavetoe what the fuck is a formula 1

under_hitt YN DOESN'T USUALLY WRITE LOVE SONGS... WHAT THE FUCK WAS 'down boy' THEN!?

ub4nforthis NOO MOTHER PLS DO NOT BE TAKEN

ric3.kiki maybe its the f1 brainrot but the amt of racing/formula 1 references in this album... crazy

dannyricxpodium right like what the fuck is 'can't leave me baby i'm no rosberg to your hamilton' it's so ON THE NOSE

penn4pennies My recovery will be fast 👍can't let anyone take my seat

ynyn_unofficial chill . no one is taking your sticks away

danielricciardo It was so fun filming with you guys 😁😊👊Hope to see you again 😉

rodethewaves4hits WHAT DOES THAT MEAN..?

penn4pennies Respectfully, sir. I hope you don't touch my drums again. Take Ols' guitar next time.

ollieq._x You're just bitter that YN was nicest to him lmaoo

ynphotographed

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YN LN was spotted in the Dutch '24 GP in front and inside the Visa CashApp RB Garage!

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ub4nforthis NO WAY.

ub4nforthis wait okay not that unexpected daniel and yn are apparently friends

lijahl4ves63 the friendship came out of nowhere but honestly go off <333

XOXloserclub I KNOW MY GIRL IS A REAL F1 FAN!!! SHE'S NO FAKER

lightsoutt33 guys theyre so cute tgt 🥺🥺😭 i saw a clip of yn in the garage talking with daniel

schecorat omg wait link?

lightsoutt33 I'LL TAG YOU

ols_thb I SAW THE VID THE WAY DANIEL IS LAUGHING AND SMILING AT EVERYTHING YN IS SAYING

goattifi Kinda weird to say... Daniel's a pretty happy guy overall

ric3.kiki she's the only celebrity i accept on the paddock

kickedatp5 she's barely a celebrity IN A WAY THAT SHE'S KINDA UNDERRATED

theshoeyshoe i didn't actually know about the hit band earlier but their music... kinda fire

under_hitt @ theshoeyshoe congratulations you are now part of the beaters

theshoeyshoe What did you just call me..?

gentlemanlyinyn IT'S THEIR FANDOM NAME I'M SORRY IT WAS A JOKE AT FIRST BUT IT STUCK AROUND

ynyn_unofficial

liked by @ thehitbandofficial @ ollieq._x @ jacoblorde @ penn4pennies @ danielricciardo and 3,523 others

Wherever you end up in, I think you're going straight to my heart

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thehitbandofficial can't wait for another hit song from this duo <3

ynyn_unofficial stfu jay . also , did u lose your main pw or something?

thehitbandofficial ...no

ynyn_unofficial i'll text it to u

penn4pennies @ thehitbandofficial Is that why you never responded to the memes I've been sending you? Bad.

ollieq._x Crazy how I never asked to hear about this 🤔

penn4pennies I think they would be cute if I was blind and deaf.

ynyn_unofficial you guys remember the fifth member..? yeah , no one does anymore .

danielricciardo I'm sure you can scare them more than that, baby!

thehitbandofficial @ danielricciardo alr fuck off with that mate 😭

ollieq._x @ thehitbandofficial Lmao

penn4pennies So... him back on the drums would be unprofessional, right?

ynyn_unofficial ugh

danielricciardo If I could, I would post you on my instagram too! ♥😚

ynyn_unofficial what's stopping you?

danielricciardo PR would have me for the ungodly paragraphs I would say about you in the caption! 😢🙌 I would profess my love to you all over again and they'll hate it!

ynyn_unofficial huh , that wasn't where i thought that was going.

danielricciardo The rest are reserved for the bedroom 😉😊

penn4pennies Okay, you're banned from ever stepping foot near the studio.

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you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! by andcar

#🔖 . DR3 #: 🔗 social media #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo fic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 scenarios #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagines

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loumandivorce · 9 months ago

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@vampirejournalist started iwtv fanfic friday and i'm here to participate totally on time and not an hour before saturday begins with some LOUMAND FIC RECS as demanded by my url. here are some bangers.

Bloodletting, explicit, series

Even though we've had our ups and downs.

[“I love you,” Armand whispers. Louis swallows against a painful throat. “Sure, honey,” he says. “I love you.” Like saying it again will make it stick. “I know,” Louis says. Armand whispers it a third time, and Louis closes his eyes so he won’t have to look at him when he says, “I’m not gonna say it back, honey.”]

this is a series and it's number one on the rec list because it's truly The loumand series of all time there is nothing that gets them better. chances are you've read one or two of these but the entire series is absolutely insane. hot and disgusting and vulnerable and heartbreaking and makes me feel crazy.

A Chill That Follows, explicit

He leans down to kiss Armand, cradling the back of his neck in his hand. He smiles when he feels rather than hears Armand sigh against his lips, pleased—as if he’s receiving a gift. It’s almost absurd, to think that he was threatening to kill him less than half an hour ago. “What’s absurd is that threatening to kill you was what finally got you to put out for him,” a dismissive, familiar voice says behind him. Shit.

armand is fighting for his LIFE. delicious read

Triptych (Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion), teen

The five of them— Louis, Armand, the figures at the crucifixion— sit together, far too much alike, deformed creatures with teeth that shine in the dark. They all come apart in pieces.

[Why they bought the Bacon triptych, and why Armand sold it.]

really interesting character study on the trifecta in relation to armand

The Cord That Goes Winding Out The Door, teen

There had never been a time proper in his life where Louis wasn’t surrounded by others, but this was the first time that he had felt permanently connected; eternally un-alone. Another being tied to him, a constant brushing of shoulders against his being.

birthing imagery as horror 😊

1,001 nights, mature

The last time Louis saw the ocean up close was—1998. An island off of Miami. Flat, breezeless night.

Or: shards of the past seventy-seven years.

loumand failmarriage through the decades.

dirges, explicit

They fell into a holding pattern for a while in the seventies, in the years before Daniel. Perhaps it was not so long as years, but time dilated, as it was, in Armand’s experience, sometimes wont to do, and it stretched into a small eternity, syrupy and neon-lit, of Louis throwing himself onto swords, chasing and chasing, Armand trailing after with the end of the leash.

practically a loumand heritage fic. written pre s2 but managed to predict so many key parts of their dynamic.

Alexandria, explicit

Louis, glitteringly modern as Armand has always found him, is an excellent tourist, throwing himself into the wholehearted pursuit of the city with an almost manic zeal. Thunderingly alive in Paris, thunderingly alive in Alexandria, thunderingly alive for the rest of their lives, wherever they might be.

loumand in egypt! almost feels like a slice of life in a way, reading this makes you feel like this is really how they spent those 77 years together. the perfect undercurrent of tragedy and bitterness and, of course, love.

acts of collision, explicit

Armand misses Louis like a man about town misses his favourite whore. He misses what only one person is horrid enough to do to him. And Daniel wouldn't even suggest it, if he couldn't feel how Louis misses Armand in the exact same way.

this one is sort of cheating because its a loumandiel fic from daniel's pov, but it's so so good. set in a nebulous post s2 future where daniel invites louis to do a bdsm scene with armand because they both miss each other but armand quite literally Doesn't Talk to louis the whole time. rlly fascinating

the crowning evil, explicit

Armand stood, back to the window, unblinking, tension carrying itself in his frame. Liar, Louis thought. All he could think. Centuries old monster playing at being a boy. A boy pretending to be a man. Unworthy in both roles. Something akin to revulsion clawed up his throat, but it couldn't be, not really, he was too burnt to a husk to muster it in its completeness.

“Come here,” Louis said, his voice dropping.

Armand stepped forward, eyes going wide and hopeful and hungry in half a second. “Yes, Maître.”

“You’re still on that?” Louis asked.

this is just self promo im ngl 💗 but i'm confident enough that my own fic is good so. loumand having despair sex before going to meet lestat in paris in 2.08

this ended up being pretty long but loumand writers when they get it right write such beautiful fics 💗 thank you wonderful iwtc writers. happy fanfic friday/saturday!

#behemoth of a post i dont want to talk ab how long this took #loumand #iwtv #fanfic friday #og post #🦇

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advantage-artrick · 2 months ago

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so this topic has been in convo recently sooo...wanted to see what you would think of it...art gangbang👀 who said that?!!-

omg yessss!! the slutty art agenda has been taking over, and i am so here for ittt! ❤️🤭

i'd say my biggest thought on the matter is that patrick should always be there in some capacity, whether he's participating, moderating, or even just on the phone supervising from a distance. (gotta protect the merchandise, you know?)

anywho, for the purposes of this fic, i think i want him present and pantsless, so that's what we're gonna do. 😊

after all, you can't get special best friend privileges if you're on the other side of the country, now can you?

CW: gangbang (duh), slutty!art, kinda d/s, slight feminization, a lil humiliation, we hit home base on this one folks, mdni!!

yippee! okay, enjoy! 🥰✨️

XOXO

despite only being in his second semester at stanford, art had made quite the name for himself on the men's tennis team.

not only was he an excellent player who could give even the fastest fourth-years a run for their money, he was also considered by many to be the life of the fucking party.

art was probably the biggest lightweight on the team, which they all found surprising considering the stories he'd told them about boarding school and his crazy roommate patrick. while it was true that he was good at smoking because of it, and he was good at keeping drinks down, when it came to staying sober, he remained positively hopeless.

not that anyone minded, of course, because a drunk art was a slutty art, and a slutty art was so. much. fun.

whenever the tennis team decided to meet up and crash a friday-night frat party, they usually waited until art was on his third drink to start fucking around. that's because the third drink was when art started to get flushed and giggly, and it was also when he started responding. . . differently to their playful comments.

usually, when they teased him in the locker rooms, calling him "pretty like a girl" and making fun of his smooth, pale chest, he just rolled his eyes and shoved them off with a laugh when they tried to grab a handful of his ass.

but, when they did the same thing to a freshly tipsy art, there wasn't an ounce of annoyance in sight. they called their little game 'fake out,' because the goal was to get art so needy and drunk on their attention that he wouldn't pull away if someone leaned in to kiss him.

but when the 'chosen one' eventually did, they would always change course at the very last second, leaving poor art confused, pouting, and desperate to be touched.

it wasn't that none of them wanted to kiss him. hell, he was so fuckin' pretty even the straightest guys on the team thought about it sometimes.

one of the only reasons none of them ever gave in to his pretty, pleading eyes was that they had a very high-stakes bet going on between them. the bet was that the first person to break and kiss art while playing fake out would be forced to strip naked and run across campus in the middle of the night until they were seen by at least one person.

so, yeah. art remained unkissed despite his drunken self's best efforts.

but then patrick came down for a visit one week in april, and, well, he had always been a bit of a game-changer.

it didn't take long for the team to notice that patrick was a bit protective of art, especially in a party environment. he stuck close to his side the whole time, steering him away from offers of hard drugs and blowjobs from plastered, half-naked girls. he even monitored how much art was drinking while they were there, making sure he took things slow and didn't overdo it after his inhibitions started to flutter away from him.

that's probably why the tennis players waited until art was on his fifth drink and they were all quite hammered themselves to begin their favorite party game. as usual, they all gravitated back together after an hour or two of socializing, and when the guys saw art wandering over to them, giggling and practically hanging off patrick's arm, they exchanged knowing smirks, getting ready to see who would be the 'chosen one' of the evening.

"hey, donaldson. cute shirt," a third-year named brett started off, giving the others a wink to let them know it was time.

"aww thanks, i just got it 'cause i liked the color," art replied, giving him a dopey, lop-sided smile.

"yeah? you got a good eye then, art. lavender suits you," another boy named marcus added. he was the only openly gay guy on the team, but no one ever gave him shit for it.

after all, the only thing it really affected was his success rate when playing fake out. he'd been the 'chosen one' ten times more than any of the other guys, likely because he had a way with words that art fell face-first for almost every time they played.

art grinned, giggling as he slumped against patrick's shoulder, relying on him entirely to stay up on his feet. patrick just rolled his eyes, steadying him easily as if he'd done it a thousand times before. he didn't seem to be catching onto the game quite yet, but he was certainly well-aware of what art was like when he'd had a few drinks.

"hey, art, why don't you give patrick's poor shoulder a rest, huh?" josh, a second-year singles player, suggested. "come over here with me, i'll make sure you don't fall over."

art nodded easily, entranced as he removed himself from patrick's side and stumbled in josh's direction. but right as he was about to fall into his teammate's waiting arms, one final voice spoke up from the arm chair in their corner.

"no, no, no, hang on, artie."

this voice belonged to none other than austin, their beloved team captain.

"come sit on my lap, sweetheart. josh is so clumsy, he'd drop you right on that cute little ass of yours."

"i would not! art, c'mere," josh retorted, pulling art closer by his wrist and wrapping an arm tightly around his waist.

art squeaked, blushing as he glanced between the two of them nervously. he looked so out of it already, just from a few compliments and a little fight for his attention. it was enough to get him higher than any drug on the market.

now, patrick seemed to be catching on. he could tell they were supposedly just fucking with art for their entertainment. but, he could also detect a strong hunger in their body language towards him, telling patrick that not everything they were saying was entirely untrue.

"there we go. hey, pretty boy," austin cooed with a salacious grin.

patrick hadn't heard what he'd said to win the battle with josh, but when he looked up, art was sitting sideways on his lap in the arm chair, giggling as austin poked playfully at his waist.

the other guys were watching on with jealous eyes, pretty much resigned to the fact that they weren't going to be the night's winner. patrick smirked, the scene reminding him of similar situations they'd been in back at the academy.

he'd used to be just like those boys, pining as he watched art soak up the attention of other guys like a little sponge. but that had been before he'd discovered just how easy art really was when he was drunk, and how easy he was sober if you knew the right buttons to push.

"wow, you're so light, artie," austin teased, standing up with art in his arms just to hear him squeal. "how much are you, anyway, 120?"

"shit, austin, you know you never ask a girl that," brett spoke up, acting mockingly aghast.

art blushed, squirming in austin's hold as he whined out a petulant, "'m not a girl."

"might as well be," marcus said casually, as if that simple sentence didn’t make art hard as a rock within seconds every time they did this.

"you sure are soft like one," brett supplied.

"you got some pretty nice tits, too," austin purred, sitting back down so art wouldn't wiggle right out of his arms.

"yeah?" art sighed drowsily, biting his lip at austin with a shy smile.

"oh, yeah," the team captain answered, walking his fingers up art's stomach so he could squeeze one of his growing pecs playfully.

they'd certainly gotten bigger since the beginning of the year. actually, it was one of the first things patrick noticed every time he came to visit.

art moaned softly, letting his head fall onto austin's shoulder with a hum.

"god, he is so. . ." brett commented, fully entranced by the beauty of art's syrupy movements and subtle flirtations.

even when he was overwhelmed with all the attention, art still managed to keep every boy present wrapped around his little finger.

even patrick, who was the only one to have already gotten a taste, was watching in awe, waiting for a chance to pull art's focus back over to himself.

"can you hurry up and win already, asshole? i want a turn," josh complained, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed.

"who says you get him next?" marcus asked him, smirking deviously.

"marc, i swear to god-"

patrick frowned, wondering exactly what winning meant in this scenario. it didn't take long for him to find out, because right after josh said it, austin pulled art's head up from his shoulder and leaned in as if to press their lips together.

art shut his eyes, tilting his head up eagerly. . . but the contact never came. right at the last second, austin brought a hand up to cover his mouth, veering off course to kiss his forehead instead.

"fake out," brett grinned, and the guys all laughed, watching art's face fall in disappointment.

suddenly, it was starting to make a whole lot more sense why art hadn't told patrick about having hooked up with anyone on the team.

it's because he hadn't.

but it wasn't because they didn't want him. it couldn't be. patrick could clearly see that they would kill for an hour alone with him, so why. . .?

"you guys are so mean," art huffed, but he made no move to get off his captain's lap. he was obviously used to their little game, but that didn't mean he was any better at stopping himself from being pulled along and getting caught up in the moment. it just meant he was less embarrassed about it in the mornings now.

he never expected to be kissed, but he never stopped hoping, either.

the team laughed again, knowing there were no real bad feelings between them. in fact, josh was already trying to lure art over to him with the promise of a shoulder massage, but art was being a tease, smiling as he told him marcus' were better anyway.

they all appeared to be having fun on the surface, but patrick knew art, and he knew when art was desperate to be touched.

this was probably the most needy he'd ever seen art get with anyone else. he was so red and glassy-eyed, and whatever he thought about when he spaced out for a second was practically making him drool. he wanted it bad, but no one was giving it to him, and patrick was absolutely not having it.

"art, c'mere," he ordered, and the whole circle fell silent.

the guys looked over at him in surprise, almost like they'd totally forgotten he was there. art nodded absently, austin helping him get back on his feet before he was wandering back over to patrick with zero hesitation.

"pat, they're being mean to me," art whined, tucking himself back under his best friend's outstretched arm.

art practically melted into his side, taking a deep breath of his party cologne and nosing idly at patrick's jaw. it was almost like he belonged there, and none of the guys had ever seen him quite so at peace when he was already that drunk and horny.

"i saw," patrick responded, raising an eyebrow at the group. there was a part of him that yearned to establish who art's 'chosen one' really was, regardless of who he would've let kiss him. "care to explain?"

"it's just a game, man," josh defended after a moment, not wanting to show how much patrick actually intimidated them. "he's cool with it, i swear."

patrick scoffed, biting back a groan when art started mouthing drunkenly at his neck.

"i know that," he spat, laughing at their scared expressions. "i'm asking why none of you assholes have fucked him yet."

"they've got a bet or somethin'," art mumbled after a moment of startled silence. "they think i don't know 'bout it, but it's why they won't kiss me. . . will you kiss me? pleaseee?"

"just a sec, baby, i wanna talk to them first," patrick placated, smiling at him lovingly.

he was just the cutest thing sometimes. he made it hard for those around him to maintain their self control, which was why it was so surprising these guys had held out for months against their desires because of some stupid bet.

"hang on, dude. before you say anything, the bet isn't why we haven't passed him around yet," marcus butted in from his spot next to austin's chair. "we didn't want to do anything like that because we knew he'd regret it in the morning. he only ever wants us when he's drunk. when we say shit like that in the locker rooms, he always tells us to fuck off. it just didn't feel right."

the team appeared to think patrick would be understanding of this, or perhaps even grateful, but after hearing their little respectful explanation, the only thing he could do was laugh.

"aww, art, have you been playing hard to get?" he teased, tugging at art's messy curls to hear him whimper. "what, you didn't want your new college friends to know you're a slut when you're sober too?"

art groaned, hiding his face bashfully in patrick's shoulder.

"'m not a slut," he argued, but the way he was trying to crawl inside patrick's skin was kind of contradicting that statement.

"no? well, you'll have to tell that to the seven guys who took turns with you back at the academy, huh? and you'll have to convince me too, artie, but we both know that's not going to happen."

"yeah, okay," art sighed. "whatever, can you please just make them fuck me now, pat?"

"all of them?" patrick asked with a smirk, surveying the group to get their reactions.

oh, they were down. every single one of them was so fucking down.

"uhuh," art confirmed, risking a glance over at the team. they were all watching him with darkened eyes, as if they were one small gesture away from tearing him apart on the spot.

art's blush deepened. just looking at the hunger in their gazes was making him feel antsy. almost empty, really.

"so, what do you say, guys?" patrick asked them, grinning. "you think you can share?"

the agreement was, as expected, unanimous and very enthusiastic.

and that's how art found himself back at his dorm, starting to sober up as five boys crowded around where he was sitting on his bed.

well, four of them did, at least. patrick was standing off to the side, watching as they approached to make sure art was in good hands.

josh, who thankfully happened to be art's new roommate, stepped up first. for all his earlier bravado, he seemed hesitant to start anything without patrick's permission, likely still in disbelief that this was actually happening.

patrick sighed, pushing him aside and taking his place in front of art.

"come on, guys," he huffed impatiently. "if you're still thinking about your little bet, i will gladly kiss him first. i never agreed to it so i can't lose, right?"

art nodded happily before the team could even respond, reaching up to pull patrick between his legs.

within seconds, patrick was pushing him down on the bed and kissing him hard, doing everything he knew art liked with an easy precision.

art gasped, wrapping his legs around patrick's waist to pull him closer. it was exactly what he'd been needing for months, and he couldn't help but curse himself for how embarrassed he'd been all year to ask for it.

but he had it now, and all he could focus on was the wet slide of his tongue against his best friend's and the thrilling sound of belt buckles being unfastened in the background.

the rest of the night occurred in three stages.

the first stage had him on his hands and knees, moaning around josh's cock while patrick got him opened up with his fingers.

it wasn't something pat trusted any of the other guys to do, that was for sure. not even marcus, who had offered, but patrick knew art's body better than any of them, and he really didn't want him to get hurt.

not too hurt, at least. he didn't seem to care when josh started fucking art's mouth, making him choke and drool in an attempt to keep up. he was taking it well, though, swallowing him down to the base with ease and letting out sounds of enjoyment that were driving everyone in the room crazy with desire.

"fuck, look at him," they were saying, all either stroking themselves lazily or just about to.

it was the most pornographic thing they'd ever witnessed, and three of them hadn't even touched him yet.

"yeah- fuck- take it, baby. jus' like that," josh groaned, pulling his hair until art keened and started leaking on the mattress below him.

when patrick brushed over his sweet spot a few times, prodding at it roughly just to be a menace, art gasped and came for the very first time that night.

"fuckin' slut," patrick laughed, pulling his fingers out and smacking his ass for good measure.

art whined, arching into his hand like he wanted more, and as much from the sight of him as the warmth of his mouth, josh was finishing right after in record time.

art's eyes fluttered contentedly, the feeling of josh filling his mouth making him hot and dizzy. he swallowed it all like it was nothing, falling face-first into the bed as soon as josh pulled out.

that seemed to be his way of begging for more.

"who do you want first, baby?" patrick asked, spreading him open to tease his teammates with the sight of his tiny pink hole.

austin groaned, looking like he might pass out if he didn't get inside him immediately.

"victor gets the spoils," he said, stepping forward before anyone else could.

patrick snorted, letting him take his place behind art and going to grab them all some condoms. he silenced their complaints with a single glare, reminding them how lucky they were he was letting this happen in the first place.

once austin was all wrapped up, it was time for stage two.

in stage two, no one was left behind. while austin was fucking art from behind, art was up on his knees, going back and forth between sucking off brett and marcus.

within minutes, he was struggling to stay focused, moaning as austin absolutely pounded his prostate. he could barely stop his eyes from rolling back in his head, much less keep his lips wrapped around brett's cock.

but he did his best and they seemed to be enjoying it, pulling his hair and fucking his mouth when they could. marcus even slapped him once or twice, mostly out of overwhelming affection, and art fucking loved it every single time it happened.

the second austin stilled inside him, art fell forward between the two in front of him, pushing back against austin's lap to prolong the feeling of his cock pulsing against his walls. he couldn't feel him filling him up like he wanted to, but just imagining it was enough to have him shooting off again.

"oh my god," brett groaned, hurrying to take austin's place the second he pulled out. "this is fucking unreal. i swear, his ass should be in a museum."

"tell me about it," austin huffed, ruffling art's hair as he went to join patrick and josh on the other bed. "just wait 'til you get inside him."

"he's good, huh?" patrick agreed, grinning proudly.

"oh, fuck yeah. tightest pussy i ever had."

art was panting and a bit overstimulated, but he was in heaven, listening to them all talk about him like he wasn't there to hear it.

he let out a high-pitched whine, biting his lip when brett spread his cheeks open and spat directly on his twitching hole.

"you wanna eat him out?" patrick asked, palming himself languidly through the boxers he'd stripped down to. "it's his favorite thing, i swear to god. he'll be all over you for weeks if you do."

art hummed in agreement, his eyes unfocused and his brain barely working. he wasn't even sure entirely what he was agreeing to, he just knew he wanted something else inside him.

"nah, man. i would, but i'd feel like i'm indirectly sucking austin's dick, and i'm not really into that," brett answered, thumbing over art's entrance reverently.

patrick shrugged as if to say 'your loss,' and then brett was sliding a condom on and pressing into art's perfect ass in one clean thrust.

and that's how things continued for the next hour or so, each teammate taking turns with art's mouth and ass, usually two at a time but sometimes three when art could manage it.

they didn't stop until everyone had come at least twice and art had finished three times, which is when he'd promptly fallen flat on his face, cushioned by the mattress while everyone laughed and high fived around him.

"bro, we didn't even touch his dick once," josh pointed out, nodding towards the wet spot on the bed beside him.

"slut," austin mumbled, smiling at how cute he looked all fucked out and boneless. "i can't believe we waited so fucking long to do this."

"oh my god, the locker room is going to be hell for him now," marcus added, chuckling. he clearly didn't feel bad about it at all.

"yeah, 'cause now we know he likes it, and we've got more buttons to press," brett grinned.

"you know, this might be the straightest i've ever felt," marcus declared, studying art's curves curiously.

"well yeah," josh shrugged, as if that made perfect sense. "i mean, all the boys you've fucked before this have been boys, and he's. . . well. . ."

patrick snorted, adding that comment to his list of things to tease art with later. he was the only one who hadn't gotten to fuck him yet, preferring to stay off to the side supervising in case something went wrong.

when the guys had asked him why, though, he'd just said, "if i take my turn now, he won't be as tight when you go again."

and they'd laughed and told him to fuck off, but they hadn't pushed anymore. patrick was definitely grateful for that, but it had been a long night of not coming deep inside his best friend's ass, and he knew it was his time to shine.

"looks like you'll have to do all the work on this one, man," austin said when he saw patrick standing up to go over to him. "i don't know if he could help if he tried."

patrick just shrugged, rolling him over and smiling when art blinked sleepily up at him.

"you alright?" he asked, climbing up on the bed beside him.

"patrick," art sighed, reaching up to touch his pretty dark curls. "'m good."

"yeah?"

patrick shifted so he was hovering over art, sliding one knee up between his thighs. art nodded, making room for him and pulling him down into a hug.

"soooo good," he slurred, giggling breathlessly. "but. . . wan' you to come in me. please?"

and who was patrick to deny him such a thing?

"that's so not fair, bro," brett pouted, but he sat down on josh's bed to watch anyway.

the other guys joined him, admittedly curious to see what art was like with someone who knew him so well.

"best friend privileges," patrick smirked, tugging his boxers down to finally pull his aching cock out.

and this was stage three.

one of the guys gasped. another muttered an astonished, "oh, shit."

they would never say it out loud, but patrick's earlier excuse may not have been a complete lie.

art, on the other hand, had absolutely zero problem saying it right to his face.

"mmmh so big, patrick," he moaned when he felt it start to push inside him. "so good."

the others watched on in awe (and maybe a bit of envy) as patrick made art completely fall apart piece by piece.

with just a few slow thrusts, he had him almost arching off the mattress, mewling with his eyes rolled back in his head. even though he'd already come three times, he was impossibly hard, and his pretty cock was leaking onto his soft stomach with every little grind.

"there we go," patrick breathed. it was almost like he'd been watching them act all proud of themselves all night just so he could step in and show them how it's really done.

like he wanted them to know they would never be able to get art like this. not like he could.

never like him.

"doin' so good, baby. you were so fuckin' good. so pretty," he murmured, pressing their lips together gently before hooking his arms under art's knees and folding him completely in half.

art cried out from the change in the angle of patrick's thrusts, every single movement causing the fat head of pat's dick to brush his sweet spot perfectly.

spurred on by his needy sounds, patrick picked up the pace, fucking him faster and deeper until art was trembling beneath him and his face was wet with tears.

"come on, baby," patrick huffed, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. "come on, you gonna come f'me? hmm?"

art nodded, sobbing as his release slammed into him and his poor, weeping cock spurted weakly across his tummy.

patrick groaned at the sight of him. he was such a fucking mess. his face was covered in drool and tears, he had somebody's cum in his hair despite how good he was at swallowing, and he had bruises forming on his hips and his own release all over his chest and stomach. he looked like he'd just been passed around the whole fucking school, and patrick had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

"oh, fuck. good boy, artie," patrick groaned, fucking him slower as he worked through the aftershocks of his fourth orgasm of the night. "i know, baby," he cooed. "i know, they can't fuck you like i can, huh?"

there were a few noises of offense from the other side of the room, but they were quickly silenced by art's enthusiastic agreement.

patrick laughed, thrusting a few more times before he was coming, spilling deep inside him just like art had been waiting for all night.

art sighed, relaxing into the feeling of being completely filled up. patrick kissed him then, tilting his head up so he could slip his tongue past art's lips.

the poor thing hadn't really been kissed all night. everyone else had been so focused on getting their dicks in his holes to think he might want something like this.

that was perfectly fine, though. it was just another bullet point they could add to the list of things he could only ever get from patrick.

yeah, art donaldson may have been a slut, but to say he didn't belong to anybody. . .

well, that would be a bold-faced lie.

sorry this one took so long, it kinda ran away from me 😅😭

i really need to work on making these shorter lol, like not every smut request requires months of context.

anywho, i hope it was worth the wait! i love love love slutty art, so this was an absolute joy to write! requests are always open!

XOXO ❤️✨️

#artrick #challengers #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x patrick zweig #challengers fic #art x patrick #challengers 2024 #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig smut #art donaldson x the stanford tennis team #slvtty art donaldson #challengers smut

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