#danielle x matthew

[onemoreparadise]

Cold nights, cold sheets. One more lonely empty hotel room. What I'd give to find my way back into you. I never did you right, and I know that. Too many sleepless nights, I own that. I said it time and time, I know that. I want to try again : Can we start over?

originals gifs owned by artemisgifs & tinasresources

[avawritesthings]

MY TUMBLR RECS !

disclaimer ! NONE OF THESE FICS WERE WRITTEN NOR PUBLISHED BY ME. please give these author’s a little bit of your love ! all fics are x reader, and some are nsfw.

ava’s note ! i have read and reread all of these fics at least twice, and i just wanted to show my love to them and so other’s can read these wonderful stories! some of these are also on ao3. take this as my apology for barely posting xx

formula one !

lando norris

call it magic - @444lec33

caught orange-handed - @mariahcarreyyy (+ oscar piastri)

slow down, be here - @katsu28

workplace distractions - @curiousthyme

life is like a box of chocolates - @dilemmaontwolegs (+ oscar piastri)

hazy days - @coff33andb00ks

charles leclerc

dime, ¿esto es lo que tú quería'? - @yazmarina (+ oscar piastri)

you wonder why i��m bitter - @moviecritc (+ alex saint mleux)

red flags - @holllandtrash

daniel ricciardo

sweet like grenadine - @scuderiahoney (one of my favs!!!)

picture perfect - @thef1diary

got drunk on you - @userlando

feels like home - harley_sunday (ao3)

oscar piastri

no more mister shy guy. - @jamminvroomvroom

dime, ¿esto es lo que tú quería'? - @ yazmarina (+ charles leclerc)

caught orange-handed - @ mariahcarreyyy (+ lando norris)

life is like a box of chocolates - @ dilemmaontwolegs (+ lando norris)

lewis hamilton

harmony - @curiousthyme

partition - @monzabee

jenson button

missed flights - @whorekneecentral

max verstappen

he must be lucky ! - @adventuringblind

little verstappen - @lxclerc

milk and sugar - @sunrizef1

in the mind of another - @pierregazly (author has a lot of great fics!)

masterlists i’ve binged:

lewisvinga’s masterlist

maplesyrupsainz’s masterlist

pucksandpower’s masterlist

theemporium’s masterlist

nhl !

matthew tkachuk (i am nothing if not matty t’s #1 fan)

baby it’s cold outside - @raysofcrosby

waking up in vegas (masterlist) - @doc-pickles

you say you hate me - @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys

praise you like i should - @senditcolton

want you to want me - @troubatrain

4 times you faked a relationship + 1 time you didn’t - @hockeywhy

love you like me - @heavenlyhischier

jerseys and dumplings - @hockeyboysiguess

four times you sat in Matthew’s chair + the one time they called him out - @ extratragic

jack hughes

saturday sleepies - @leaentries

jersey - @sydnikov

feels like home - @ quintinh43

always an angel - @wineauntie (technically hughes brother x sister!reader)

sidney crosby

sugar sugar (masterlist) - @ holy-pucks

home is where the heart is (masterlist) - @fallinallincurls

bubble wrapped (part of a series) - @myhockeyworld87

lovestruck, went straight to my head - @harlowhockeystick

andrei svechnikov

fake numbers and date numbers - @matsbarzal

gaslight - @comphy-and-cozy

high speeds - @thewintersoldierdisaster (so many great andrei fics!)

in five - @ sydnikov (so many great andrei fics)

quinn hughes

heavy heads and heavy hearts - @quintinh43

wiped away kisses - @theemporium

game night - @sc0tters

baevillier’s masterlist

marvel !

tony “iron man” stark

straight lines and sharp angles - nicky_writes (ao3)

kinds of love (series) - bartonstark (ao3)

james “bucky” barnes

sweet dreams - abovethesmokestacks (ao3)

these ties that bind - sweetascanbee (ao3)

druig (eternals)

three-part series - @ohcaptains

how could they not know? - @saintlike78

mark spector/steven grant/jake lockley (moon knight)

man in the mirror - @fettuccin-e

i’m getting to know someone - davosmymaster (ao3)

keep a secret? - cakealicoi (ao3)

matt “daredevil” murdock

dirty little devil - @courtforshort15

kate bishop/yelena belova

blank space - @ mrsyelena (ao3) (unfinished)

wanda maximoff/natasha romanoff

kidnapped - artemis_writes123 (ao3)

star wars !

anakin skywalker

save a spaceship, ride a starpilot - kkismygod (ao3)

jealousy - kkismygod (ao3)

patched up - kkismygod (ao3)

eventide - ohgodmyeyes (ao3) (more darth vader, less anakin)

the babysitter - ohgodmyeyes (ao3)

braids - sarcastic_bubble (ao3)

primal - lullows (ao3) (ft. obi-wan kenobi)

drunk confessions - oreosmama (ao3)

master + padawan knight senator = ? - darthtrek (ao3) (ft. obi-wan kenobi)

say my name - kkismygod (ao3)

the mandalorian

cold showers - cptnbvcks (ao3)

misc !

jj maybank (outer banks)

amnesiac - cherienymphe (ao3)

i know (5+1) - heathersmoonlight (ao3)

soul deep - heathersmoonlight (ao3)

art donaldson (challengers)

beyond the play - @sapphire-writes

and then there were three… - @kolsmikaelson

good luck, babe! - @sunsburns (ft. tashi & patrick)

the mikaelsons (tvdu)

patisserie - wickedlyemma (ao3)

carmen “carmy” berzatto (the bear)

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby - tinybluewitch (ao3) (the link literally won’t work im sorry)

david von erich (iron claw)

yellow rose - @daysofyellowroses

ransom drysdale (knives out)

rubber? i don’t even like her - @ whateveriwant

lip gallagher (shameless)

out of excuses - @ borntobewondering

billy loomis/stu macher (scream I)

jealous jerks - @ potter-imagines

bruce wayne (the batman 2022)

written in the stars - batsingotham (ao3)

*please let me know if you want me to remove any of these links or anything, i hope i didnt offend anyone <3 also sorry that i couldn't tag everyone !

** i WILL be adding more as time goes on. i have many many recs

[z0mbgender]

Do they have a duo name????

[sonofcelluloid]

Armand joining Daniel’s Instagram livestream:

[i-did-it-all-for-the-nookie]

forgive me father for i have sinned (coquetteifying saw)

[thee-radio-host-is-a-kookaburra]

John with Carlos: “You can’t kill him! He’s an innocent kid!”

John with Daniel Matthews:

[mirroredmemoriez]

She is so older sister coded, I don’t know how to fully explain it but- Amanda just is.

Bonus image:

[your-friendly-neighbourh00d-fag]

[mayorofloserville69]

Get yourself a bestie that uses your Letterboxd after watching saw movies with you

Made an Amanda Stan

[toomuchracket]

dancing like she way out (george daniel x reader smut)

shag the dj shag the dj shag the dj, or whatever the smiths said. basically - a night out takes a turn for the better when you hook up with the hot dj. won't lie, there's use of the d word in here. and choking, because we've all seen that man's hands. enjoy <3

all your friends are wasted, and you hate this club.

no, really - three of them are currently spewing their guts up in the toilets after going too hard on the tequila rose, while the rest flail wildly on the dancefloor in between queuing at the bar to buy yet another round of overpriced jagerbombs. meanwhile, you're doing your best to dodge the extremely persistent man you first swerved about an hour ago, some palm angels-clad twat with shit hair and an inability to take no for an answer, and also doing your best not to spill your vodka cranberry all over yourself in the process.

in short, you're having a shitter of a night.

at least the dj's fit, though. really fit. and, to be fair, he’s spinning some decent stuff. the one saving grace of the night, you'd say.

you watch him from the edge of the dancefloor, empty cup in hand. he's quite focused, more so than some of the wankers you've been dragged to see in this club in the past, only looking up to signal to the bar staff that he needs a refill and to check the vibe of the room. he has pretty eyes, you notice, sharp and dark and clear; eyes that could definitely get you to commit a multitude of sins, quite frankly.

and now? they're looking right at you.

looking isn't a strong enough word, actually. they drag slowly down your body - locking with your own, then travel to your pouty, brown-lined lips, and shamelessly over the curves of your body onto your legs - leaving a trail of thrill-induced goosebumps across your skin in their wake. suddenly, they flick back up to your face, and one closes in a wink. you smirk, and the dj does too.

interesting.

one of your more sober friends nudges you, handing you another vodka. you accept it without breaking eye contact with the dj, wrapping your lips around the straw and smiling with it between your teeth. he raises his eyebrows, still smirking, and you wink; your friend notices, and leans round so you can see her. “are you eye-fucking the dj?”

“maybe,” you reluctantly tear your eyes from him to look at her. “in my defence, he started eye-fucking me first.”

she laughs, tugging you onto the floor and motioning for you to dance. “i think we should keep him looking at you, then.”

“alright,” you down your drink and set down the cup. “let's dance.”

and so, you do, pulling out all the stops. your hair flows behind you as you swing your hips, body twisting and turning and stretching as you lose yourself under the lights and amidst the beat, and you laugh excitedly with your friend as she twirls you. the dancefloor is so empty that you can spin to your heart's content, but that doesn't bother you at all - it means there's less for the object of your efforts to be distracted by, more chance that his attention is on you.

it seems to be completely on you, actually; every time you catch a glimpse of him, his eyes are on you again, and your friend attests to that in your ear as she pulls you in for a hug. “he hasn't stopped looking at you, for even a second. that man wants you, babe.”

you angle your body towards the deck so you can see him. the club lighting is simultaneously sheering out his black shirt and throwing both his stubbled face and tattooed arms into focus - fuck, his arms. 

and he's still looking at you.

“i think you might be right,” you turn back to your friend so she can hear you, deliberately leaning forward and shaking your ass slightly in his direction. “and i want him too.”

she shoves you towards the deck. “go and get him, then.”

with a giggle, you set off, swinging your hips as you all but skip towards the extremely sexy man behind the music. unfortunately for you, some arsey man in too-tight chinos gets to the deck first; folding your arms, you stand behind him, miffed, and wait your turn to speak.

luckily, you only have to do that for a couple of seconds. the guy isn't particularly drunk, but he's annoying. “hey, bro,” he says to the dj, whose handsome face is set in an expression full of what can only be described as ennui. you assume he sees this kind of thing all the time. “can you play some, like, chainsmokers? that would be so sound of you.”

chainsmokers? christ.

clearly, your distaste is showing, because the dj's face slips into a tiny smirk as he looks at you out of the corner of his eye; it disappears, though, before he replies. “‘fraid not, mate…”

his fucking voice. dear god. who is this man, and where has he been all your life?

“...i don't take requests.”

you believe it. everything about the dj screams control, and with every passing second your want to submit to that control is growing. it's not want you have for him any more, but sheer fucking need.

the other guy shrugs and wanders off, and the attention is all on you again. leaning over the mixing board towards you, the dj smirks again. “you, however, can ask me for anything you like.”

fuck. keep it together, bitch.

“anything?” you smile, saccharine, carefully leaning on the side of the deck in such a way that it pushes your boobs up. “even cascada?”

he rolls his eyes. “and here i thought you had taste.”

“whatever made you think that?”

“you picked out that dress to wear tonight, yeah?”

christ. “yeah. you like it?”

he nods, taking a sip of his drink. “it's gorgeous on you. but i think most things would be.”

you blush, revelling in the compliment before shooting your shot. “present company included?”

“jesus,” he shakes his head, and for the briefest of moments you worry that you've lost him. but then he looks up, hunger in those fucking eyes of his, and smirks again. “is that what you want, angel? to go somewhere together and find out?”

the ease with which the pet name falls from his lips is staggering, so much so that you can merely nod. that's not good enough for him, though - “need you to talk to me, beautiful.”

“sorry, sorry,” you compose yourself (with great difficulty). “yes, that's what i want.”

“s'reciprocated,” he smiles, genuinely. “i’m george, by the way.”

you smile in response, and introduce yourself. george says your name, slowly, and you fear that your legs might give way. “pretty,” he replies. “i like how you feel on my tongue.”

the words practically shoot straight into the scrap of fabric you call panties, and your jaw drops. george giggles. “you're cute when you're flustered, angel.”

“shame. i don't tend to make a habit of that.”

“hmmm,”  he clicks his tongue. “i'll need to work on that, then.”

you smile, radiant. “promise?”

“promise,” george smiles. he checks his watch, and you try not to drool at the way his arms flex. or his hands - god, look at his hands! “s'almost closing time. meet me back here in half an hour?”

“looking forward to it,” you blow him a kiss, preening at the way he blushes. “see you in a bit, gorgeous.”

he winks again. you turn and walk back to your friends, who have gathered along the edge of the dancefloor to watch your exchange with the dj. they huddle around you like a rugby scrum when you near them, a cacophony of slurred voices asking what and where and who and when and how; you gesture for them to follow you to the smoking area, where - to much excitement - you relay the details to them in the breaks between nicotine hits, and hug them all goodnight before you have to go back inside, them to the cloakroom and you to the dj.

your wingwoman friend is the last one you bid farewell to - she links arms with you to walk back into the sweaty club, doing the pre-prepared spiel you give each other when you pull. “have fun, but don't be stupid. if it's his place you end up at, then send me your location. i'll phone you in the morning, alright?”

“yeah,” you kiss her cheek. “thanks for all your help.”

“no problem. stay safe, have the best time,” she grins. “and i want details at the pub quiz on tuesday.”

“noted,” you hug her again as you reach the place to part ways. “love you. goodnight.”

“get it, bitch!” she shouts after you; you turn to salute her and giggle, and then she's gone. with a deep breath and a shake of your hair, you dart past the people starting to head towards the cloakroom, butterflies starting to emerge again as you get closer to george.

he smiles when he sees you, eyes raking over your body once again. “you know,” he says, as you reach the deck. “you really are beautiful.”

“i'm already leaving with you, george, you can drop the flattery,” you roll your eyes, then beam at him. “thank you, though.”

“just stating facts,” george turns some sort of dial, and the music fades to silence. as the club staff usher everyone from the room, he sighs happily. “been waiting to do that since you came up to me earlier.”

“really?”

“yeah,” he unplugs his laptop from the deck, sliding it into a backpack. “you're very distracting, you know, looking so good and dancing like that.”

“well, i try,” you hold out a hand. “ready to go?”

george nods, stepping down beside you - you gawk at the the height of him, towering over you. “fuck me, you're tall.”

he laughs, taking your hand in his. again, the size difference is insane, and you find yourself momentarily nervous to get into bed with him; that soon passes in favour of excitement, though. “don't worry, i'll even out the height thing by getting on my knees soon enough.”

the speed with which you tug him toward the exit at that is almost comical. george only giggles and lets you drag him to the door - he stops when you’re out in the cold air, though. “hold on, angel, i need a cig.”

you nod, standing on the step beside the door while he moves down a few to light his cigarette in peace. his hands, so big, are surprisingly nimble as he pulls a fag from the packet and flicks the lighter on; again, it does something to your core, and you lean against the brick wall to keep yourself steady.

after a few (erotic) drags of the cig, george holds it out to you. wordlessly, you accept, holding eye contact as you take a drag and exhale it in his direction. george's eyes flick to your lips, then back to your own - suddenly, he's kissing you, a hand in your hair and one on the small of your back, your arms looped around his neck. it's not a polite kiss, by any means; george kisses like he’s trying to devour you in the best possible way, stealing all the air from your lungs and inhibitions from your brain, tongue and teeth working against your mouth to get you to give in to him.

like you need any convincing.

a trail of spit connects you as he breaks the sloppy kiss, forehead resting against yours as you both breathe deeply. “fuck, angel,” george sighs, kissing you quickly again. “your place or mine?”

“we can be at my flat in five minutes if we walk quickly.”

“shit. lead the way.”

***

your front door hasn't even fully closed behind you before george is pressing you up against it, grabbing handfuls of your ass and lifting you so he can kiss your lips and neck while he grinds into you. every time his hips meet yours, you feel your eyes roll back into your head and the need for him inside you growing. his teeth meet the skin of your collarbone, and you swear you see stars. “george.”

his head shoots up immediately. “no marks?”

“no, leave as many as you want. it's just,” you whimper as he sucks a bruise into your skin. “i really want you to take me to bed. please?”

he groans at that, peeling you off the wall as he turns. “where…?”

“second door on the left.”

no sooner than the words have left your lips, george is kicking your bedroom door open and all but throwing you onto your bed. hands shaking, you do your best to undo your heels and throw them into a corner as george rids himself of backpack and shirt; you mewl at the sight of him, muscles hardened in the moonlight, and sit up on your knees to clumsily undo his belt.

he shakes his head, moving your hands from him. “you first, angel. arms up, come on, let's get that pathetic excuse for a dress off you.”

“i thought you liked this dress?” you frown, even as you oblige and let him peel the dress up your body.

“i do, but - oh, fuck,” george moans as your almost-bare body is revealed to him. “it was doing an awful job of stopping me thinking about you like this.”

his gaze on you is almost predatory, so much so that it makes you sink back onto your knees in submission, legs slightly open and chest forward. “do i live up to your daydreams, sir? no, wait,” you squint, assessing george to see if you can figure him out. “do i live up to your daydreams, daddy?”

you've hit the nail on the head; george’s eyes close as he swears and undoes his belt, kicking his trousers and shoes off before climbing onto the bed, onto you. he pulls you slowly onto his lap, and rocks you back and forth even more slowly. “does this answer your question, baby?” he murmurs, the gravel in his voice liquifying your insides and sending them straight into your underwear. the friction against his hardness is incredible, and all you can do is whine as you look into those obsidian eyes - again, that's not good enough for george, who delivers a sharp smack to your ass. “words, angel. tell daddy what you think.”

“i - ooh,” you whimper, as george changes angle to one that manages to catch your clit with every grind. “i think i live up to them, yes, daddy. think you wanna fuck me, and - shit - i want that too.”

“my smart girl,” he kisses you again, another head-melter that has you moaning into his mouth. “what else do you want, hmmm? want me to go down on you?”

as tempting as having that mouth between your legs sounds… that isn’t what you want right now. “wake me up like that tomorrow, please,” you savour the way george whines into your neck at the thought. “but right now, i just need you to fill me up, daddy.”

“well, i did say you could ask me for anything you liked,” he grins against you, kissing you quickly before softly laying you down. “fuck, look at you, angel, so fucking beautiful. where have they been keeping you from me all this time?” 

your cheeks burn at the way he bites his lip, trailing his hands over your bare chest and all the way down to your panties. “i mean, seriously,” he hums. “i've never wanted to fuck someone more in my life.”

“so do it. please,” you open your legs, showing him the surely-visible wet patch on your silky underwear. “need you inside me, daddy.”

“alright, alright,” george huffs out a laugh, one of disbelief, as he trails a finger up your clothed slit. “jesus, you’re soaked already. can i take these off?”

“please.”

he smiles, dragging the material down your legs and his fingers through your wetness; evilly, he slides the same hand beneath his boxers to palm himself, groaning. when you protest, he laughs. “just making sure we're both ready, baby. speaking of… protection?”

you say nothing, and just reach across to grab your pill packet from the bedside table and wave it at him.

“noted,” he leans forward to kiss you, before moving back onto his knees to slide his boxers off. as the fabric drops, so does your jaw: you knew from the feeling of him under you that you weren't dealing with something compact, here, but george is fucking huge. like, slightly terror-inducing huge. that said, though, you begin to salivate at the sight of him - he notices this, and giggles. “like what you see?”

“yeah,” wide eyed, you look up at his face, your own breaking into an anticipated smile; tentatively, you reach out to touch his cock, both of you gasping in tandem when you wrap your hand (as best you can) around him, manicured thumb flicking over the pre-cum soaked tip. neither of you break eye contact as you pump him a few times, the sexual tension in the room too magnetic to do so, and when you speak it comes out in a whisper. “how do you want me?”

“how don’t i want you?” george smirks, tapping your wrist to make you let go of him. he shuffles forward, big hands meeting your chest and squeezing gently, and beams when you whine. “fucking love that sound. lie back for me, angel, wanna watch these tits while i make you feel good. that alright?”

“mhmm,” you do as asked, fanning your hair across the pillow and spreading your legs - george can't seem to decide where to look, eyes darting between your face and chest and glistening cunt, and it makes you feel incredible. “like this, daddy?”

he nods. “perfect,” his lips find yours again  as he settles above you, resting his weight on one hand while the other slides between your thighs again. two long fingers tentatively dip into your cunt, and george groans while you gasp at the fullness. christ, if this is how you react to his fingers, then what on earth will it be like when he's actually fucking you? “jesus, baby, you're so fucking tight,” he hisses, eyes heavy as he looks down into yours. “want me to get you off with my hand first, before you take my cock? i mean, you're wet enough that you should be alright, but… i want you to feel good. comfortable. s'all about you, angel.”

shit. you have a sneaking suspicion that this man might genuinely be the death of you. but at least you'll die happy, yeah?

smiling, slightly dazed, you shake your head. “just want you to fuck me, daddy. need it, needed your cock all night.”

“you're sure?” george caresses your cheek.

“i'm sure,” you nod, humming happily as you watch him pump himself and drag his length through your wetness. “put it in, please.”

“sweet girl,” he kisses you, deep and slow, and pushes into you, the same. “oh my god.”

you're speechless, breathless, completely fucking brainless - all you can think about is the utterly delicious way george is stretching you out. nobody you've ever fucked before has really made you relate to the metaphor “rearranging your guts”, but with him it's crystal clear; he's so gentle and you're so turned on that it isn't painful, but he's definitely ruined any other man for you already and he's - you look down to check - not even fully inside you yet.

you giggle, slightly delirious, at that realisation. george smiles at you, groaning as he bottoms out and stills inside you. “feeling good?”

“so fucking good,” you lean up to kiss him, whining against his lips at the slight change in angle. fuck, he’s deep. “fuck me, please.”

he smirks. “magic word?”

“fuck me, please,” you kiss him again, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip then pulling back and whispering. “daddy.”

“good girl,” george pulls your legs around his waist, slowly sliding out of you and back in; you both moan in harmony as he does. “jesus, you feel incredible.”

you preen, beaming up at him - the smile is knocked from your face as he speeds up, though, in favour of your jaw dropping in pleasure. “yeah, that's it. fucking me so good, don't stop, please.”

“not stopping until i get you off, angel, don't worry,” he shifts slightly again, his next thrust hitting a spot inside you that you didn't think existed; when he does, you whimper, the contact sending another gush to your core and shockwaves throughout your body. “oh, you liked that, didn't you, sweet girl? shall i do it again? yeah, i think i will.”

he does, ripping a cry from your throat in the process. your legs quiver around his waist, the repeated hits to the area sparking them into movement, and you clutch desperately at his forearm beside your head. “daddy…”

“what is it, angel?” george leans down to kiss you, still fucking you relentlessly. “tell me what you want.”

your brain is growing hazier by the second, dopamine and serotonin and god knows what else overpowering all your motor functions, but you still manage to oblige. “want - fuck - want you to choke me.”

“fuck,” george’s eyes roll back slightly. “you're sure?”

you nod, stomach contracting in ecstasy. “need it, need you.”

“you're so fucking cute,” he grins, incongruous with the way his big hand wraps around your neck and presses, just enough for you to sigh happily and clench around him. “think you really might be an angel, by the way,” he pants out, never letting the rhythm of his hips drop. “you feel like heaven. look like it, too. and trust me, later on,” he kisses your neck, dragging his tongue up so he can whisper in your ear. “i am going to get on my knees and worship you for hours.”

okay, it's settled - he's perfect. you can never fuck anyone else ever again. “please.”

“‘please’ what, sweet girl? please do that?” he coos, sucking another mark just under your jaw. “or please make you cum?”

“cum,” you choke out from under his hand, legs practically thrashing from how good you feel. “please, daddy.”

“gonna be a good girl and help me, then?” george looks you straight in the eye, his almost completely shut in pleasure. “touch yourself for me. show me what you're gonna do every time you think about this, about me.”

christ alive. you obey (you're not sure that you'd be unable to resist that voice even if you wanted to), grabbing one of your tits in one hand and sliding the other between your bodies to your clit. as soon as you touch the bundle of nerves, the shockwaves pulsing through your body increase tenfold; if not for george above you, grounding you, you reckon you'd have shot off the mattress by now. through a quivering jaw, you talk to him. “m'so close, so fucking close.”

“me too, angel,” george’s eyelids flutter as he talks. “don't fight it - cum for me, my good girl, cum on my fucking cock.”

your body does as it’s told, a final surge of pleasure flowing through your body so strongly that you actually black out for a second; your fuse is relit by george groaning, gravel and guttural, in your ear, imminent climax signalled by his hips falling out of rhythm for the first time so far and his hand slackening on your neck. “oh, fuck, i'm there. can i… inside?”

“yeah,” you breathe out. “fill me up, daddy.”

“shit!”

with a moan of your name, george buries himself to the hilt inside you one final time, thrusting shallow and kissing you fiercely as he paints your insides white. once he’s done, he carefully lies down on top of you and rests his head in the crook of your neck, still inside you as you both catch your breath. despite finishing last, he’s the first to speak, moving to hover over you and kiss you again. “i'm so glad you decided to go out tonight.”

“me too,” you giggle. “same again next week?”

“absolutely. i'll be the one waiting by the speakers.”

[modanisgf]

023. BIRDS OF A FEATHER

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a/n— chapter 800 of hyein and dani being the only ones trying to give yall content 💔💔

[veryberryjelly]

did i finally watch now you see me & now you see me 2 and fall in love with another magic obsessed nerd

i absolutely did

spencer reid & daniel atlas 4 life <3

[eegnm]

Survivor Group Meeting

[shawn-meets-world]

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

He hasn't extended the name yet.... -Rider

But you, I don't think of the Feeny call as just being the extension of the name. That's it. That's it at the, at its height for sure. But like, this is so clearly the Feeny call. The Feeny call. There's no, the other ones have felt like, Ooh, I could see how this led to the Feeny call. But this feels like this is the first Feeny call...and then the other ones, oh wow. You just think it's just the extension. -Danielle

I think. I think if, if they ask Will to do the Feeny call at a convention and he goes, Mr. Feeny! that's not what they're asking for. If he goes Fee-ee-ee-ee-ee-nay!that's It. -Rider

Sure. The that one is definitely, I think the peak. But I don't know I, that to me still isn't, I don't know. I still consider this to be a Feeny call. -Danielle

We're not at Feeny call. -Rider

Oh wow. I disagree with you. This is a side yard backyard. -Danielle

This is the toddler, toddler feeny call. It still has yet to grow. -Rider

Laughing hysterically. -Will

[zepp-l1n]

The Same

Pairing: Daniel Matthews x Fem!reader

summary: Daniel meets someone in the same boat as him at a "Jigsaw victim therapy group" session. fic type - hurt/comfort, post Saw 2, fluff?? warning - 2000s emo x 2000s emo, canon level Saw violence, both reader and Daniel have PTSD, mentions of past drug use, mentions of body scarring from the traps, self harm (??) word count - 1,779 a/n: hiiii! sorry my posting has been kinda off and on for the past few months, but I'm hoping now that school and my personal schedule is a little more chill, I'll be able to write and post more often. <3 (also, what's up with the lack of Daniel fics?)

Group therapy wasn't Daniel's idea. He knew he needed to talk about the things he had gone through and seen, which is why he had originally gone to one-on-one therapy, but when his therapist had suggested joining Bobby Dagen's group he had been very apprehensive. At first, Daniel had been very against the idea. He found Bobby very pretentious and overzealous, and the entire "Jigsaw victim therapy group" to be a scam for Bobby's fan's entertainment. For months his therapist and his mother brought up the group again and again, leading to Daniel finally deciding to go in the hopes of getting them to shut up about it.

Now, Daniel found himself in the room Bobby would rent out for each session. They were all sitting side by side in the formation of a circle, letting each person have a clear view of everyone else. Not one person in the room, other than bobby, looked elated to be there.

Daniel sat in his folded out seat, arms crossed and head turned downward. So far, the entire experience had been uncomfortable. Bobby had gone on one of his regularly scheduled "We should be grateful!" spiels, and multiple people had shared their sob-stories. For 30 minuets Daniel had to endure the same arguments and conversations over and over. He sat in silence, never once making himself known - choosing to sit and pick at his black, long-sleeved undershirt the entire time.

Daniel had been so focused on his own thoughts that when he finally glanced back up, he noticed all the eyes on him. "Daniel?" Bobby called out.

"Hmm?" his reply was short and uninterested.

"I asked if you would like to share your story with the others. Would you?" Bobby asked. The smile he gave Daniel as he spoke made him divert his eyes. Daniel shrugged, not knowing if he truly wanted to. "If you'd like to wait that's okay. Whenever you're ready, Daniel."

The other's diverted their attention to Luba afterwards, taking in her story. Daniel silently listened, just waiting for the session to be over. They continued this way, story after story, until the door swung open, creating a loud noise. In it's opening was a girl, presumably around Daniel's age from what he could see.

"Ah, (Y/N), nice of you to finally join us." Bobby sarcastically spoke.

The teen stepped into the room, waving at a man in the corner that Daniel hadn't noticed before, and continued towards the circle. The silver chain hanging from her belt loops lightly rattled against her black cargo-jeans as she walked his way. "Oh shut up, Bobby. Some of us have lives outside the whole Jigsaw shit." she scoffed, her eyeliner covered eyes glaring at the older man. The girl, (Y/N) as Daniel her Bobby call her, took a open seat a few chairs down from Daniel, giving him a tight-lipped smile and a wave of her ringed hand before turning towards the others.

"Now, now, (Y/N). There's no need for hostility here - we're all the same." Bobby cheerfully stated, causing the girl to roll her eyes. "Here, since you missed when everyone else did it, why don't you introduce yourself to out newest member. This is Daniel." his arm directed (Y/N)'s eyes to her fellow teen.

(Y/N)'s dark-red lips turned up into a forced smile before she spoke. "Hi, I'm (Y/N). I'm the girl who was found a week after a trap that wasn't even hers, half dead and tied to the mutilated corpse of her sister. Nice to meet you!" The smile dropped immediately after she finished her sentence.

"Sorry Daniel. Just ignore her. She's still a little apprehensive to be doing this." Daniel awkwardly nodded at Bobby's explanation. "Good, now why don't we continue..." Daniel couldn't focus on Bobby as he spoke - his attention was solely caught on (Y/N)'s appearance. On top of the jeans and chain, she also had a shirt similar to what he would usually wear. It was red and white, and he could tell it was showing some kind of band-logo, but he couldn't get a clear enough look to tell what band. Glancing down at his own white t-shirt, he caught similarities between the two, finally realizing who it was. "Wrath of the Gods." he whispered.

(Y/N)'s head lightly turned her head, seemingly asking him to repeat himself.

"Your shirt. It's 'Wrath of the Gods' - like mine." he lightly smiled. "You like them?"

She glances down, taking in her own shirt and then his. "Huh... Yeah, my sister, she uh, introduced me to their music a few years ago. This was her shirt actually; she gave me it when she got a new one before the trap."

"Sounds like she was pretty cool." Daniel muttered. By this point, (Y/N) had moved over a seat so they could talk without bothering any of the others.

She smiled before whispering back, "She was."

Now that she was closer, Daniel could see the scarring on her face, neck, arms, and hands. He couldn't help but wonder what she fully went through if that was the result of her trap. It also made him wonder if the same scarring would cascade down her legs and torso too. Did the scarring all look the same; how many were there; were some more gory than others? Hundreds of questions flew through his mind as he looked at her.

"How'd you get them?" Daniel didn't even register the fact that he had spoken.

"Huh?" (Y/N) whispered.

"Sorry, uh, your scars. If you don't mind me asking, how'd you get them? I mean, you don't have to tell me. Y'know, I don't want to cross any boundar-" Daniel's rant was cut off by (Y/N).

"It's fine, Daniel." she sighed, giving him a sad smile. "I got these during my sister's 'game'"

"Your sister's game?" Daniel asked, hoping she would clarify.

(Y/N) looked over at the others, making sure no one was bothered by their conversation, before continuing. "Yeah. My sister was the one being tested. It was my fault, but she was the one who got the consequences." she paused, taking a moment to fully think about how to explain her experience. "My parents died when I was little, and my sister had turned 18 a few weeks before they did. After that, she took me in; became my legal guardian, y'know. She was a nurse too, so a lot of the time I was either by myself or out with friends. When my friend Amy finally got her learners, we went out one evening and ended up in an accident. That led to me being on a shit-ton of pain meds, and eventually I got hooked. It was really bad. Jane, my sister, had access to a lot of pain medication, and I used that against her. I begged for weeks for her to steal me them. She, uh... She eventually couldn't take seeing me so bad, so she broke a lot of rules and brought me some. I guess Jigsaw found out, and he thought I was pulling her down. When he took us, his whole argument in the tape was that I was bad for her, and if she got rid of her baggage - me - then she'd be free and would go places in life. If she didn't get rid of me, she'd die." Once again, (Y/N) paused, collecting herself. "He had us tied together to this weird chair set up. It was on these rails, and in front of either of us were these things I could only describe as 'the open-faced turkey sandwich version of a woodchipper'. She was supposed to kill me - push me into mine. I begged and pleaded for her to just do it, cause, I mean, he was right. I was the only bad thing in her life. She would've been better off without me."

"If she died, and didn't want to hurt you, then how did you end up with all the scars?" Daniel quietly asked.

"I did it to myself." Daniel's eyes widened at how casually she said it. "She wouldn't push back and put me into the woodchipper, so I did it myself. I put my feet on the edges of the rails and pushed myself forwards into it. I got close enough to cut myself up a bit. I thought I was gonna save her." (Y/N)'s eyes began to water, and she quickly wiped it away. "Jane was always stronger than me, though. She pulled back and kept us at the midpoint. We were there when the timer went off. I guess it was motorized, cause when the timer went off, we moved backwards. Jane went straight into it. There was nothing I could do but sit there and listen to her screams. Jigsaw and his little groupies never came for me. I was supposed to die, so they left me there. For about a week I was strapped to the trap and what was left of my sister, out of it from blood loss, hunger, and dehydration. Some homeless guy eventually found everything and called the police."

"Wow..." Daniel muttered.

"Yeah, I know." (Y/N) hesitantly chuckled. "Since then I've been doing two sessions of regular therapy a week, this, and rehab."

As she finished her sentence, Bobby loudly spoke up. "Alright guys, today was great! It is time we wrap up though. I hope to see everyone again next week, and I hope you have a great rest of your week." The two teens watched as he walked back to the doorway of the room, stopping next to his wife, lawyer, bestfriend, and publicist.

"Well, I guess that's enough trauma dumping for today." (Y/N) glanced back over at Daniel. "Listen, uh, y'know, 'Wrath of the Gods' has a show this weekend. You should come, so we could hang out some more. To be honest, I need more friends who listen to music I like." she laughed.

Daniel grinned, "Yeah, why not?"

"Good, good." (Y/N) mumbled. "Listen, I gotta go, my foster dad picks me up from these things, but I'll see you this weekend."

"Yeah, yeah, see you later." he smiled. Daniel contently watched as she got up, and headed for the door.

As she got closer to the door, (Y/N) turned back around and waved at him. "Bye, Danny."

(Y/N) turned back around and exited, leaving Daniel to sit in the room alone, thinking over what had just happened. "Holy shit." he dramatically exhaled. Maybe coming to the "Jigsaw victim therapy group" wasn't that bad of an idea.