#i love you fire hair danny

[a-selkie-abroad]

Danny may have underestimated Vlad...

[deadsetobsessions]

It takes a lot to break a ghost. After all, even death didn’t keep them down for long, not in any way that mattered.

There is, however, a sure fire way to utterly crush a ghost’s core without even touching it.

Find their grave, and defile it.

It is the height of cruelty. It is the ultimate act of disrespect. It is violation, of the deepest kind, an act that can never, ever be allowed to go unpunished.

As Danny stared at the remains of the toppled over rock tower that Tucker and Sam had made for him all those years ago, to honor his death, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.

——

Please.

Zatanna looked around. The magician knew better than to write off the sound as a trick of her mind.

You have to help him. Please. He’s just a child.

“Who? What’s wrong?” Zatanna asked, heart aching for the grieving whispers of the young voice.

My brother. His grave. It’s been destroyed. Please.

Zatanna’s hair stood on ends. “What’s his name? Where is it?”

Amity Park. His name is Phantom. Please. Hurry.

Her heart skipped a beat. Phantom. The name of the Infinite Realm’s Champion, the future king.

“Shit. I’m on my way. Can you lead me there?”

I can’t. I won’t be here for much longer. Tell him Jazz sent you. Please. Help him. Help him.

“I will.”

When Zatanna portals out of her dressing room, she catches a flash of red hair.

——

“CONSTANTINE!”

“Gah! Zatanna?” John Constantine fell out of his chair, legs slipping from their place propped onto the table.

“Emergency! Infinite Realms level. Someone destroyed Phantom’s grave.”

Constantine scrambled upwards, pulling on his coat as his mind all but bleated like a highland goat at the sound of “Infinite Realms” and “Phantom’s grave.” Destroying a ghost’s grave might destroy the ghost, but if they survive the initial splintering, right before their final death, they’ll explode in a ball of fury. Normally, it would be slightly less of a problem. Normally, it wouldn’t be the most powerful ghost in the Infinite Realms. Normally, this wouldn’t happen. Normally, even if it did, it wouldn’t risk a war none of the universes would win. The Infinite Realms loves prince Phantom. Their grief over this… even if he survives, the consequences would be unimaginable.

“You contact the League. I have to go fix this, right now.”

John doesn’t bother going for his hottle, because he unfortunately needed to do this sober.

“Go, go!”

——

Danny doesn’t turn even as he hears the crunch of grass blades. He sits, staring blankly at what used to be his grave marker.

“Hi, there,” it’s a woman. She sounds sad. Danny understands, because all he feels is a whistling hole where his heart used to be. “Are you Phantom?”

Danny sighs, ice crackling at his lungs. He knows, when this is over, he’ll find it in himself to rage. If he doesn’t shatter from this, he knows he’ll take Amity out. Perhaps he’d spare this one. It’s been a long time since anyone bothered visiting or even knew about his grave.

“Your highness…your sister sent me. Jazz?”

That got Danny’s attention. Glowing green eyes peeked from the curled ball of ghost to stare Zatanna down.

She swallowed.

“She… had red hair?”

“Why are you here?” Why did she send you? He doesn’t say. Zatanna seems to understand anyways.

“To help. Please, will you let me help?”

Danny looks down at the ice freezing her feet to the ground and thinks of the kind set of her eyes, the steel backing her spine, the carefully nonthreatening posture. Yes, Jazz would send this kind of person to help him.

The ice melts.

“Thank you.”

Danny watches as she approaches his destroyed grave. She glances back for his permission. He shrugs. It’s destroyed. Nothing would ever bring it back.

And then, he was proven wrong.

Zatanna’s eyes glow, and the stones began melding itself back together- no, it was reversing the damage and zooming back to its proper place.

“Oh.”

The damage to his core was still there. But… he won’t kill this one at all.

Or her friends, who stand at the edge of the clearing with the soul-torn one standing at the helm.

“Is this… alright, your highness?”

Danny stares at Zatanna. His voice is hoarse but… but it’s not on the verge of insanity anymore.

“Do you always come to graves without an offering?”

He knows he’s being rude. He’s past the point of caring. Zatanna’s response is to pull a bouquet of lilies from behind her back.

——

Phantom’s face is so young, and it’s even younger when he smiles.

“Not always,” Zatanna replies, rolling her eyes. But when she settles the flowers down, they’re gently placed.

“Can you magic clovers around it?” Phantom asks, that note of painful hope cracking her own heart. She wonders how old he was when he died.

“Of course.”

A field of clovers surrounds the rock tower, and Zatanna adds four layers of heavy wards around the area when she grows them. Phantom notices, and looks up at her with… trust.

“I am Zatanna. Your sister, Jazz, sent me.”

“Okay. You can call me Phantom.”

——

“I want their heads.” Danny says.

“We don’t kill.”

“Then hand them over to us, for they have hurt the Great One. They will answer for their crimes.” Frostbite settles a hand on Danny’s shoulder.

“Alright.”

“Constantine.”

Constantine somehow manages to drag Batman away to hiss in his ears.

“Shit in a hole, Batsy, I’m not fucking with the Infinite Realms. My demons won’t fuck with the Infinite Realms. Destroying a ghost’s grave is an act of war, and an act of complete violation, and we’re lucky Phantom liked Zee enough not to completely bring ruin to our universe. So shut up, and get the bastards that did this.”

“Hm.”

——

Zatanna sits in the visitors chair, Batman’s and Constantine’s disgruntled selves standing behind her.

“How old are you, Phantom?”

“Hm?” The future King looks exhausted, understandably. “Oh, sixteen.”

“You’re… sixteen? That’s how old you look, right?”

She’s hoping that he’s older, that he’s a millennia and a half years old. Because if he wasn’t, whoever broke Phantom’s grave, broke the grave of a child.

“No, I’m sixteen. My body looks fourteen. I died when I was fourteen.”

Constantine swears.

Batman straightens and walks out, fists clenched.

Zatanna eases the hum of hunting magic at her finger tips and smiles at Phantom until he sleeps.

Then, she gets up, and hunts.

[bet-on-me-13]

The First Supervillain

So! A Typical "Early Start" AU where the events of The Show happen early in the Timeline. Like, in the 70's or 80's.

Danny never quite managed to fix his Public Perception, and even years into his career people still saw him as the Villain.

Coincidentally Valerie was seen as a Hero because of how often they were seen fighting. Even after they revealed their Identities and got together, they still had the occasional Battle. It was their love language.

His role as the Villain was Cemented when Pariah launched his Second Invasion of Earth after some dumbass accidentally freed him, and Danny took the Blame for it. Instead of being seen as the Hero who battled Pariah and stopped the Invasion, he was seen as the Tyrant to launched the Invasion in the first place, with Red Huntess being the one to defeat him in one final Ultimate Battle.

And honestly? He was fine with that. Now that he was the King of the Ghost Zone, he had the Authority to Regulate the Portal so villains stopped getting through. And that meant that he wasn't needed to stop random Ghost Attacks anymore. He could finally focus on College and his own Life, instead of sacrificing everything to act as the Protector of the Human Realm.

Val continued to be a Hero for a few more years, eventually retiring when it became Clear that the new generation of Heroes could pick up the Slack.

He went to College, got a Job as an Aerospace Engineer, and eventually proposed to Valerie.

About 20 years since his initial Accident, and he was doing great! He had moved into a humble home on the edge of town with his loving wife Val, his beautiful daughter Ellie, and his cute dog Cujo.

Yeah, life was good.

Until the day Danny accidently caused a Mass Crisis.

...

Superman was having some extreme trouble in dealing with his current Opponent. He had just been flying around the City, patrolling as Usual, when all of a sudden he had been attacked by a Flying Mech Suit.

At first he had assumed that Lex was giving it another Go, but he quickly realized that was not the case when the Armor seemed to Phase though solid matter in the middle of the battle. Lex had never made Tech advanced enough to do that on the fly.

This opponent was tough too. Strong enough and Durable enough to go blow for blow with him, and seemingly able to pull Advanced Weaponry from out of nowhere whenever he wanted. As tough as it was to admit, Superman as losing the Battle.

Then, without warning, the battle stopped. His opponent was staring at the space just behind him, with a look of pure dread. He turned around, and his heart stopped.

Floating behind him, staring right past him and directly at the Mech Suit, was the First Villain Phantom.

He looked much the same as when he had last been seen, although he was definitely Older. He had snow white hair, and glowing green eyes that seemed to stare right past him and into his very soul. He was wearing what seemed to be a costume of sorts, with an all black suit, white gloves, and white boots. Over his Shoulders sat a Cloak made of Stars, and above his head sat a Crown made of an Icy Blue Fire.

The Mech tried for a greeting, "Er- Hello t-Lord Phantom. How do you d-"

"Skulker."

"Y-yes?"

"What are you doing here? I thought I gave you explicit orders to stay in the Ghost Zone until further notice. You disobeyed me."

"Okay look. I got excited, that's my fault. It's just, I got anxious waiting. Can you really blame me? I've been waiting 20 years to take another Crack at the Human World, what's it matter if I left a few weeks Early?"

"I told you. You were supposed to wait exactly 20 Years, and you left Early. This calls for punishment."

"No wait!"

"Let's see how you feel after a few days as Soup."

The Villain pulled out a Thermos, and in a flash of green light, Skulker was gone, and the King was capping the Thermos. He then turned to Superman.

"I apologize for him, he decided to leave ahead of schedule." The King addressed him. "Now, Kryptonian. Rest and tend to your wounds, you will need to be in your best health if you want to continue saving the lives of those people below us."

With a dramatic flare, the King reached up and Tore a hole in Space. Through the Hole, Superman could only see an infinite Green Void, with the sound of screams cheering being heard through the rift.

The King departed through the Tear in Spacetime, and it closed behind him.

Superman tried to collect himself, and activated his League Emergency Comms.

"Attention All Founding Members, and Justice League Dark Members. This is Superman calling for an immediate Emergency Meeting."

He took a deep breath.

"Phantom is Back."

[emacrow]

Danny has an aggressive secret admirer and that Admirer is Damian wayne. If Damian has succeeded with his plan of kidnapping danny after carefully researching.

Danny woke up a bit refreshed after what he felt like was a 3 hour power nap after eating the most delicious burger he was given gift wrapped up in a present box found in his locker after school..

Only to noticed fenton designed looking a like of handcuffs on his hands, feets as he lays in a cushion like bed with certain red and blue duck candles lit with green fire.

A hand written runes of ancient writing on the galaxies like blanket he was laying on. Blue weeping flowers petals on the floor surrounding the bed.

Now this was interesting... before he noticed the person behind this all, Danny's eyes were glowing, looking at Damian. The liminal classmate who shyly glances at him every now and then when he thought he didn't noticed.

He did his research right as he can see Damian was not even trembling nor falling on his knees under the weight of Danny's core pressuring in this room before offering Danny something that he did most value to his very soul.

It wasn't his blood, nor hair, or a weapon.

For ghosts have no uses for those things but what they desire most of all even after death.

It was a necklace, beautifully made and designed to look like scattered or stars but what they were made with crystallized emotional tears of pure even a bit unhinged love.

Damian's face look red.. his eyes were a definitely puffy and reddish underneath with the amount of tears he has cried. His greeb eyes look determined and a bit dilated.

Danny stared back as Damian wavered didn't changed a bit even after 30 minutes had past.

"I accepted your courtship, but you could've just texted me to met at a certain time instead..?" Danny spoke with a bit of a flattered smile growing as his eyes widen noticing Damian wasn't even done yet with how he open a curtain to reveal a custom coffin and grave stone specifically made for danny along with flowers, plushes and offering breads for the dead.

OH.. Oh he definitely marrying him now. Now let him sleep in the coffin before danny start crying too.. also hand him some of that bread too.

[lewisvinga]

good lord | daniel ricciardo x fem! reader

summary; in which daniel is absolutely obsessed with his girlfriend

fc; alycia debnam carey

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1

notes; requested ! based off of pookie and jett ( yall better know who i’m talking abt ) bc daniel would so be like jett

masterlist !

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, and others !

yourusername: went on a silly little walk to buy some silly fruit today

danielricciardo: WOW WHATTA WOMAN😍😍🥴🥴

yourusername: dannyyyyyyy😭

danielricciardo: you look marvelous, babe😍😍

yourusername: thank you my luv😞🩷

username: the bag is everything omg

username: i live for daniel’s comments

username: she’s so prettyyyyy

username: daniel’s so lucky to be dating her

danielricciardo: i tell that to myself everyday !

username: daniel is such a simp im crying

username: y/n is so pookie

username: need that bag fr

username: imagine walking around looking like that 😫😫

maxverstappen1: ur bfs drooling over ur post btw

danielricciardo: yeah and i have no shame abt it

yourusername: that’s danny ric for u

liked by danielricciardo, lilymhe, and others !

yourusername: date nights w him >>

tagged; danielricciardo

danielricciardo: HUBBAHUBBAHUBBA

danielricciardo: you always look exquisite 😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍😍😍

landonorris: ENOUGH W THW EMOJIS

yourusername: don’t mind lando, he’s cranky😞 u always look handsome tho babe🩷🩷😫🥴🥴

username: daniel’s comments are always so damn funny 😭😭😭

username: the black mini dress EATS

username: i’ll never be in the comments before daniel 😞

lilymhe: sooooo pretty😫

yourusername: 🙈🙈

username: daniel looks so good wait

username: my fave wag🥹

username: they remind me of campbell and jett😭😭😭

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, and others !

yourusername: always spoiled by my love 🤍 thank you for everything, my danny 🤍

tagged; danielricciardo

danielricciardo: dear lord, babe, you always look stunning 😍🥰

username: this is so pookie and jett coded omg

danielricciardo: pookie looks absolutely fire tonight❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

yourusername: LMFAOOO DANNYYY

username: POOKIE AND JETT REFERENCE I’M CRYINGG

danielricciardo: always the best for you❤️i love you❤️

yourusername: i love you 🙁🩷

username: oh to be spoiled by daniel ricciardo…

username: the hair is giving what it’s supposed to give 😍😍

username: she’s so😣😣

landonorris: ur bf keeps annoying me

yourusername: did u deserve it

landonorris: all i asked was for him to stop saying pookie😞

yourusername: u deserved it pookie😒

username: “my danny” IM SOBBING

username: i need a man to be as obsessed w me as daniel is w pookie y/n liked by yourusername and danielricciardo !

[bodybaggage]

Shadows and Crowns

John Constantine finds himself dealing with royalty

john constantine/danny phantom

---

The London night was dark and damp, as was typical, but something was off. John Constantine could feel it, a prickle on the back of his neck—a telltale sign that something eldritch was afoot. He lit another cigarette, letting the smoke drift lazily upward as he navigated the narrow alleyways with practiced ease. His trench coat fluttered in the cool breeze, and he kept his eyes peeled for any sign of trouble.

It didn’t take long.

A sharp chill in the air made him pause, and he squinted into the fog ahead. The magical wards he had set earlier had been triggered, a clear sign that something powerful—otherworldly—had entered his turf. But what appeared before him wasn’t what he expected.

At first, it was just a flicker of light, almost like a distant star. But then it grew, taking on shape and form until a figure hovered a few feet above the ground, wrapped in a swirling cloak of darkness and stardust. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and his hair, a wild shock of white, floated around his head like a halo. His eyes glowed a vibrant, unnatural green, and his presence was something between awe-inspiring and terrifying. It was like staring into the cosmos itself—an eldritch being that seemed to draw the very night around it, bending reality with its mere existence.

John’s instincts screamed at him to run—this was no ordinary spirit, no run-of-the-mill ghost looking for a lost love or a wayward path to the afterlife. This was something far more ancient, far more powerful. Yet, his curiosity, the part of him that had always led him to the darkest corners of the magical world, kept him rooted to the spot.

“Bloody hell,” John muttered under his breath, taking another drag of his cigarette. “What the sodding hell are you?”

The figure tilted its head, the ethereal light of its eyes flickering with amusement. When it spoke, its voice was like a chorus, reverberating through the night air. “I could ask you the same, human.”

John’s eyes narrowed, not liking the sound of that. “Names, mate. I’m partial to knowin’ who—or what—I’m dealin’ with.”

The being seemed to consider this, the stars within its cloak twinkling brighter for a moment. Then, the dark shroud began to recede, revealing a figure beneath it. As the shadows peeled away, what remained was no less intimidating but far more defined.

He was tall, his body clad in armor that seemed to be forged from the cosmos itself—galaxies spun across the black metal, and constellations shimmered in the darkness. A flaming green crown rested atop his head, its fire dancing without heat, and a glowing green ring adorned his right hand, pulsating with power. The armor was intricately detailed, each piece enchanted with symbols John barely recognized but knew were ancient. Despite the regal appearance, there was something unnervingly beautiful about him—an otherworldly allure that tugged at the edges of John’s senses.

“Phantom,” the figure finally said, his voice still carrying that ethereal echo but now more grounded, more human. “King of the Infinite Realms.”

John’s cigarette nearly fell from his lips, but he caught himself just in time. “Infinite Realms, you say? Thought old Pariah Dark was still in charge of that bloody mess.”

Phantom’s expression darkened ever so slightly, the light of his eyes dimming. “Not anymore. I defeated him years ago. The Realms are under new rule now.”

John swore under his breath, stubbing out his cigarette on the damp pavement. The Infinite Realms were the stuff of nightmares—stories passed around in the magical underworld, tales of spirits and realms so dangerous that even the most seasoned sorcerers gave them a wide berth. Constantine himself had always steered clear of anything remotely connected to the place, and now here he was, face to face with its bloody king.

“Well, that’s just grand,” John muttered, more to himself than to Phantom. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. “So, what brings the King of Ghosts to my doorstep, eh? Don’t tell me you’ve come to add my soul to your collection.”

Phantom’s lips twitched into a small, knowing smile, and John felt an odd flutter in his chest—damn, he was ethereal. “Not quite. I’m here on business. I believe you’re familiar with the Soul Shredder?”

John’s blood ran cold. Of course he knew the Soul Shredder, a cursed artifact from the darkest corners of the Realms. It was said to be wielded by Fright Knight, Pariah Dark’s former right hand—a spectral warrior of unparalleled power. Rumor had it that the sword had been lost during Pariah Dark’s defeat, its whereabouts unknown. That was until now, apparently.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” John admitted, his tone cautious. “But what’s it got to do with me?”

“It’s been stolen,” Phantom said, his expression turning serious. “And the one who took it has brought it to your world.”

Constantine swore again. “And you think I know somethin’ about it?”

Phantom’s gaze was piercing, though not unkind. “I think you’re one of the few in this world who knows how dangerous that sword can be. And I need it back before it causes irreparable damage.”

John’s mind raced, trying to piece together what little information he had. The Infinite Realms, a missing sword, and now its king standing in front of him, asking for help. This was way above his pay grade, and yet… something in Phantom’s presence, in the way he carried himself with a mix of regal authority and a hint of vulnerability, made John want to help.

Or maybe it was just that damn enchanting aura the ghost was giving off.

“All right,” John finally said, resigned. “I’ll help you track down your fancy sword. But once we find it, you take it and bugger off back to the Realms, got it?”

Phantom inclined his head slightly, a gesture of gratitude. “Agreed.”

Constantine turned, motioning for Phantom to follow. As they walked, John couldn’t help but glance sideways at the ghostly king, admiring the way his armor seemed to shimmer with an inner light, how the green flames of his crown flickered softly. The presence of the Ring of Rage caught John’s attention next, the glowing artifact known for its destructive power. Yet here it was, worn by a being who seemed to hold it with ease, as if it were merely a part of him.

“So,” John said after a moment, trying to keep his tone casual, “how’d you end up with all that fancy gear? That ring, in particular, looks like trouble.”

Phantom glanced at the ring, his expression unreadable. “It was a gift from the previous ruler. It comes with the territory.”

John whistled low. “You must’ve really done a number on old Pariah to earn that.”

Phantom’s gaze turned distant, as if remembering something far away. “It wasn’t easy,” he said quietly, the weight of his words heavy with the memory of that battle. “But it was necessary.”

John nodded, not pushing further. He understood that some battles left scars that were better left unspoken. Instead, he focused on the task at hand, trying to ignore the growing attraction he felt towards the ghostly king. It wasn’t just Phantom’s ethereal beauty—it was the way he carried himself, the way his presence filled the space around him with a mixture of power and calm. It was bloody distracting, to say the least.

“Right then,” John said, snapping himself back to reality. “Let’s find your bloody sword and get you back to your Realms, shall we?”

Phantom smirked, a faint glow of amusement returning to his eyes. “Lead the way, Constantine.”

As they moved deeper into the labyrinthine streets of London, the odd duo—one a jaded occult detective, the other a regal king from another dimension—began their search for the Nightmare Sword. Unbeknownst to John, this encounter with Phantom would change the course of his life, forcing him to confront powers beyond even his own reckoning. But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand, and the enigmatic figure at his side who, for some reason, made him feel more alive than he had in years.

——

john when he’s confronted by a hot inter-dimensional ghost:

[corkinavoid]

A list of things I've done that pissed my mother off, but as Batfam + Team Phantom edition

Bruce: got into a verbal fight and held a year-long grudge at my teacher for not giving me a fair grade at an annual competition, and proceeded to go out of my way to win said competition next year

Alfred: refused to eat her food, got told to cook for myself and did so, ending up with both my dad and sister saying my banana bread was the best thing they've eaten

Dick: swung on the bungee rope over the dry riverbed turned into junk yard, fell, miraculously did not die, went to that same bungee rope the next day

Babs: organized a stake out, found out which neighbor had been messing with trash bins when everyone blamed raccoons, called said neighbor a raccoon for the next three weeks

Jason: kept reading books at night with a flashlight, when said flashlight was taken away, lit a candle and accidentally almost set the house on fire

Tim: fled to a different country across the globe without telling anyone except my sister, who's been 7 at the time, and did not respond to any calls or messages for three months

Steph: picked a dress with glitter for a dinner with her relatives after specifically being told not to, was forced to change, but took my revenge by exploding a glitter bomb in the car when we have already arrived at the relatives' house

Cass: responded with 'sorry I didn't quite catch that could you repeat' to her very long rant, over text

Damian: successfully clawed and gnawed at a classmate's face after they destroyed my painting

Duke: was the leader of school rebellion over the 'no wigs allowed in school' rule in sixth grade, managed to convince two teachers to join, ended up with the rule taken down

Danny: accidentally shocked myself with a tazer I stole from her handbag, cried, when she came to ask what happened, showed her by repeating the accidental electrocution

Dan: pushed my maternal aunt into the pool and watched her flounder, knowing very well she is a bad swimmer, when confronted about it later argued it was the kiddie part of the pool and she could not have drowned

Jazz: told her I was in love with a girl she disliked, when she voiced her opinion on it, made a whole argument about how I'm supposed to learn from my own mistakes and not from her experiences

Dani: zoned out while she was yelling at me, came back to her saying 'you're no better than a pig', impulsively told her 'it's because of genetics' and started oinking

Sam: painted my nails and toes on my left hand and left foot black, dyed my hair purple, but only on the left side, as well as got a piercing on the left eyebrow, while the whole right side was left 'natural'

Tucker: learned to change the wi-fi password and held power over the internet every time she took my electronics away by asking a friend that lived nearby to come by my house and using their phone to change the password

Bonus:

Selina: repeatedly stolen antique jewelry from grandma because she, in turn, stole it from my other grandma

Valerie: turned rogue, teamed up with the opponent team in lasertag and helped them win over my own teammates

Talia: threatened a person I will carve their eyeballs out with a spoon if they ever as much as look at my sister funny again, a month later gave them a decorated silver teaspoon as a birthday gift

Jack Fenton: failed my driving license test seven times, three of which were on purpose

Maddie: ruined her plans of my picture-perfect marriage by friendzoning a son of her friend, claiming I'm saving my love only for the important things like mozzarella

Vlad: scared my sister shitless by telling her a scary story about ghosts under her bed and then hiding under her bed and making 'boo' noizes

Clockwork: purposefully made her experience deja vu by wearing the exact same clothes and greeting her the exact same way in the exact same place for three days in a row

[beiasluv]

arrow and papaya | o. piastri (81)

a/n: this series performed a LOT better than I expected lmaooo thank you. Enjoyy

yn.png

liked by landonorris, daniel3.jpg and 9 others

yn.png my boy graduated kinda vibe. proud of youu

view all 13 comments

oscarpiastri you did not just give me an earring (love you)

yn.png i did 😙 you looked good (ilym)

oscarpiastri thank YOU 😎

yn.png also. did you see what happened with lance??

oscarpiastri tell me 😧

yn.png dm.

landonorris TELL ME

logansargeant oscarsplaining??

yn.png better than logansplaining ✊

logansargeant freedom of speech, yn

yn.png tell me. what’s a kilometer, logan

georgerussell63 who gave you the power to run from mercedes to mclaren paddock after every race?

yn.png only god knows (OSCAR JACK PIASTRIII)

liked by oscarpiastri

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liked by aussiegrit, carlossainz55 and 8 others

yn.png he is sad because mark couldn’t make it. crying, throwing up, ripping my hair off.

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aussiegrit Looking forward to seeing you guys at the next Grand Prix! Don’t pull your hair off, please.

yn.png Markkkkkk come back soon!

oscarpiastri I’m pretty sure I was sad because you didn’t buy me the orange juice but okay.

landonorris you miss mark webba, oscar?

oscarpiastri i do not sound like that

yn.png don’t bully my aussies 🤨 (yes, you sound like dat)

daniel3.jpg one aussie protector spotted!!

yn.png thank! you! can i have tim tams??

oscarpiastri my suitcase is open for you for the next visit

yn.png yessssss ilysm. get the dark chocolate ones.

yn.png

melbourne, australia

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, and 29 others

yn.png happy winter breakkk. also. spot the american challenge

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charles_leclerc when are you coming to monaco this winter break??

yn.png wydm winter? I only know hot christmas 😙 (please come and get me I’m scared of spiders)

landonorris bro you have to visit us

yn.png if only oscar is going as well.

landonorris oscarpiastri approved?

oscarpiastri nah. hot christmas first, then maybe we’ll visit.

oscarpiastri wydm about spiders? I killed nearly 4 for you :(

yn.png thank you my knight in shining armor 😚😭

oscarpiastri you’re welcome. also. I don’t look like a koala

yn.png yes you doooo. you’re my favorite koala.

oscarpiastri fine. You’re stuck in Australia with me 🩷

danielricciardo yn.png thy need more aussie training

yn.png no, thank you. I cannot physically look at them.

landonorris I see you’ve posted 3 pictures of oscar. very thoughtful.

yn.png ikrrrr

logansargeant easy. the one with freedom of speech.

yn.png what is one quart of milk 😭

logansargeant do you want your pop tarts?

yn.png I deeply apologize, mr. sargeant.

lando.jpg

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossianz55, and 286,727 others

lando.jpg somebody (oscarpiastri) stole my camera 😒

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yourinsta I think this somebody is a good photographer 😗

lando.jpg a little ‘thank you’ for me taking my time to post this would be nice

yourinsta of course, thank you to my favorite photographerrrr/ camera owner

danielricciardo i thought i was your favorite photographer

yourinsta this danny ric guy is my favorite texian, ngl

liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri correction, you left it in my driver’s room 🤷‍♂️

yn.png

liked by danielricciardo, alex_albon and 38 others

yn.png about last night…lmk what are you even yapping about, zak 😉

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oscarpiastri you’re going to get me fired one day.

yn.png if you’re willing to join me in mercedes 🤭

georgerussell63 What do YOU mean???

yn.png just assumptions 🤷‍♀️😗

georgerussell63 toto’s hearing about this. and roscoe.

yn.png NOOOOO don’t tell roscoe please.

yn.png dw, i can spoil you oscar 😚

oscarpiastri no :( I’m going to spoil you

landonorris GO AWAYYYYY

oscarpiastri this is the internet, log off 🤷‍♂️

landonorris I thought we were best friends :(

oscarpiastri yn is my best best friend

yn.png yeah, Carlos is waiting for you lan 😘

landonorris you guys are meannn

lilymhe miss you since last nightt

yn.png i miss you tooo 😩

alex_albon what about my taggg

yn.png sorry albonnooo 😭

danielricciardo thank you for the honorable tag

yn.png anything for my favorite aussie

oscarpiastri sorry???

yn.png okay, second favorite aussie

danielricciardo fine ☹️

yn.png’s story

reply

oscarpiastri: love you, p3

: you did not have to rub it in my face

oscarpiastri: had fun spraying you with champagne 🤷‍♂️

yn.png reacted with 😒

: can you buy me tim tams?

oscarpiastri: yes, and with milk and grapes?

: yesss, you are the best 😗

oscarpiastri: can I have your number though?

: i think you can have my house key first 🤭

oscarpiastri: no :( we’re going to live in Australia

: not with spiders.

oscarpiastri: I’ll kill every single one for you.

mclaren’s story

reply

like, reblog, do withever the heck you want if you enjoyed it. If you don’t, imma steal your security number 🤭 jkkk

(lets be moots????)

today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!!

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi!

If you’re still doing these asks, do you mind maybe adding a part 5 to Passion for Fashion?

I would love to see how Danny and Red Robin’s impromptu date goes and Constantine’s reaction to all this.

And poor Killer Croc is so confused and uncomfortable around the twins, oh and not to forget Dan’s inner turmoil over losing a love interest because his body no longer matches his mental and spiritual age😂

I’d also love to see the reactions of the rest of the Batfam to Tim going on a date and their reaction to Dan’s flirting with Croc.

Your request came in after I had already written most of Part 5, but I hope I can include most of what you asked for in it and make it up with another Part of the Au for you.

Danny strutted down the runway, fighting to keep his gaze straight ahead as various flashes from cameras went off.

He mentally went through his checklist of proper catwalk tips that he watched the other day—or, more accurately, Dan forced him to watch from some free video website—ensuring his hands were relaxed, long strides were made, and his shoulders were firm but not stiff.

This was the contest's second round, with Tim Drake proposing the "Gotham Aesthetic" as the theme and challenge. Apparently, the teenage CEO spent most of his childhood taking photos of the city and wanted others to appreciate the architecture of the aged town.

There was no kidnapping attempt this time, and the contest was back on schedule. However, there was a delay because some of the models had dropped out after they were nearly sold (Dan called them cowards, but Danny personally thought they were wise to do so). Hence, fashion designers had to scramble for someone new or forfeit their position in the contest, allowing some eliminated to take their place.

It took nearly four weeks to confirm that the same designers were staying but would need to remake or adjust their outfits. Thankfully, Wayne Amature Fashion Show was more than willing to offer them time.

Dan had already made Danny's outfit but figured he would remake it anyway. Once completed, new designs were crafted, adjusted, and flung into an idea box. He created so many it was as if Dan were a man possessed (Pun intended).

Danny needed to figure out how much fabric he was going through, but sometimes, he had to remind the other to sleep, eat, and shower. It seemed the other kept forgetting he was human now and needed to do these things for his health and Danny's poor nose.

Dan also seemed obsessed with exploring new parts of Gotham just to take pictures of buildings to get "inspiration." Danny went with him as he had nothing better to do, and the pair made an unlikely duo.

Both got stares in the streets—Danny for strutting around Gotham wearing some of Dan's regretted challenge outfits in an effort to learn to catwalk in them and Dan for dressing as close to the homeless as he could. For all that Dan could make amazing pieces of fashion, the man only filled his own closet with mismatched joggers and pajamas.

Danny had to force him back to change at one point since Dan had intended to walk around in a bathrobe- with shorts and stained short sleeves underneath it. He drew the line on bathrobes.

It was so embarrassing to be gawked at all the time that Danny could not help but wish Dan would try just a little. This was somewhat worse than when he was alone because at least then he knew it was just how stupid and awkward he looked in the outfits.

Now, he just felt subconscious about trying too hard compared to Dan.

"Relax, kid," The other scoffed, snapping a picture of the Brown Bridge. "By the time you're my age, you honestly stop caring about what other people think, so long as you like how you look."

"Can't you at least comb your hair?"

"I forgot how to do that."

Danny snaps his head in his direction, blinking owlishly "What?"

Dan shrugs. "My hair was fire for a literal decade, brat. How was I supposed to comb it?"

"Oh," Danny supposes, that makes sense. After all, Dan was more ghost than human at that point, driven mad by his grief and a colossal monster. He sort of forgot that. "Do you want me to show you how?"

"Ew. No. Too much work. Humans are so high maintenance." Dan rolled his eyes and shifted his tone into a mocking one. Comb your hair, change your clothes, take a bath."

"You smell like shit, Dan."

"You look like shit!"

"We have the same face!"

"It's better on me!"

Their public arguments also attract lots of stares. Danny would feel embarrassed by them if he wasn't so busy bickering with Dan as they moved about.

Ultimately, Dan had made his outfits formal steampunk during the break. Danny wished he had stayed with the Dark Academia idea because he felt he was walking around in a costume instead of clothes.

Dan told him that it felt too basic to go with Dark Academia since, now that he saw more of Gotham, he thought it better represent the city as a whole instead of the elites of Gotham. Danny debated with him until he agreed to make two of the four outfits- meant to represent all four seasons of Gotham's beauty or something stupid like that- to be dark academia.

Danny nears the end of the runway, stopping right before the judges to strike his pose. His eyes never leave the center decorative flower in the far back, but he makes sure to slowly turn his head as if he is gazing at the crowd.

There are gasps as he pulls off his tophat in a twirl to hide the way he presses the button on his hip. At once, his pants and sleeves light up in the gentle glow of the Brown Bridge's famous historic lampost show. It's no brighter than his ghost glow, but it makes him look like a vision, especially when he puts the hat back on with a mysterious curl of his lips.

Danny practiced that move for weeks—even when it made him cringe—and he is happy to have pulled it off successfully as he twists around and struts away. The Brown Bridge only lights its lanterns in the winter, so this hits a true Gotham native here for the seasonal challenge portion.

With his superhearing, he manages to catch Tim Drake-Wayne's dreamy sigh. Danny fights the urge to fist bump. If they impressed the special judge so much, then they just guaranteed their spot in the next round.

Each round meant they were closer to completing the mission. Since it's been practically impossible to find Batman—even when the man was running around dressed like a giant bat—this was their best bet.

Once he's backstage, he rushes to Dan's area, already ripping off most of his outfit for the last piece. Spring dark academia vaguely reminded him of rich school uniforms, but at least they didn't have ridiculous amounts of belts and metal on them.

Dan already has the outfit set out and quickly helps him change. He adjusts the vest and collar for Danny, glancing angrily at the model walking up the line. "Come on, we only have a few minutes before the last two models finish their walk for the Winter portion."

Danny nods, throwing on the gargoyle ear cuffs, only to pause when he sees a strange card on Dan's station. He pushes aside the black rings to grab a tiny green card with a giant question mark. "What's this?"

"Some guy saw my work and wanted to commission him a suit. Apparently, he was tired of how no one could style the question marks." Dan answered, distracted while reapplying some powder to Danny's face.

"A question mark? Why?"

"It's his gimmick or something. I didn't bother to ask for too many details. He will be going to our house soon to get his measurements done," Dan says, twisting Danny's face with his chin to make sure everything looks good. Danny lets him, blindly slipping on his rings and bracelets. "Thought it be a fun little side project."

"How did he hear about you?"

"You remember how you took those boxes of clothes to the job search office to give to people? Apparently, one of his employees' younger brothers borrowed a suit for his prom, and he thought the photos were nice." Dan shrugs. Then he glances in alarm at the stage hand who signals for them. "Never mind that. It's almost our turn again. Get out there!"

Danny scurries away, but not before he sees a beautiful redhead woman in green- was that leaves and vines???- stride over to Dan as the clone puts away his makeup.

She gestures with a business card, and Dan blinks as she talks once before he eagerly takes out his design journal. She must be a performer asking Dan for a new forest design or something.

Danny wonders why Gotham has so many people with oddly specific gimmicks.

He turns his head away to stride back into the catwalk, head held high as he does so. Danny makes the mistake of locking eyes with one of the judges- Tim Drake-Wayne is gawking at him like the people of the street do- and he snaps his gaze away, fighting to keep his composure.

He thinks he does well since Team Fenton snatches first place in this round. Drake-Wayne catches him at the after-party, praising his final outfit so much that Danny offers to give it to him, knowing Dan wouldn't mind.

Drake-Wayne goes red, early agreeing, but since they are so different in size—the CEO's waist is slightly leaner but with far more muscular forearms—Danny tells him to come by his house that weekend to have Dan resize it for him.

It should be fine since the Question Mark man and Leaf Lady will also be there that day for their own measurements.

[elizabethemerald]

Don't Sneak up on People with Swords

@im-totally-not-an-alien-2 made a prompt about Danny sneaking up on Jason Todd and @sky00asara made a comment in the tags about what would happen if Danny did that to Talia. So here is my version of that! Enjoy.

Talia al Ghul watched her beloved from afar. He was out, again patrolling his city for those he considered wrong doers. Her son was by his side. She scowled at how Damian’s fighting style had changed, softened in the company of her beloved. Despite her love for the man under the cowl, he had a tremendous ability to take even the most ruthless of killers and change them to spare the undeserving. He had even tried it with her. 

She was hidden on the roof of an abandoned tower nearby. The tower had succumbed to fire and was now condemned until the city got around to destroying it properly. For now it made the perfect place for her to observe her beloved and her son work undisturbed. 

“Excuse me?” 

Talia whirled, drawing her blade as she spun. Her blade moved fast enough to almost cut the air itself yet the small shape ducked under her stroke and back-pedaled quickly to move out her range. 

“Jeez! Why is everyone in this city so jumpy!” 

The voice more than anything made her realize that the person who had somehow snuck close enough was an actual child. Their black hair and blue eyes made her wonder if this was another of her beloved’s adoptees. Except surely this boy was too young to catch Bruce’s eye? 

“Well maybe you should not sneak up on people?” Talia hissed, her voice soft yet stern. To say nothing of how a child who couldn’t be older than five had snuck up on her at all. 

“Well maybe you shouldn’t brood on the roof of my home!” The child snarked back, just like one of the Bat’s brood would, completely unafraid of the blade still in her hand. Talia raised an eyebrow at him then looked around at the burnt skeleton of the building they were standing on. 

“This building is not fit for human occupation.”

“Neither was the last place I lived.” He said dismissively. “This place hasn’t even killed me yet, so it’s practically a paradise.” 

She was tempted to take the child’s words as sarcasm, yet something in the way he spoke made her think he meant it more truthfully. 

“You’ve died before?” Talia asked. She relaxed her hold on her blade, allowing it to rest at her side. 

“Oh yeah, I die all the time.” He said, then he looked at her curiously tilting his head first one way, then another. “You’ve died too, huh?” 

She nodded, now examining him closely, looking for the signs she would recognize. She could see the hint of a scar on the boy’s palm that might have caused a death. 

“What is it with this town that so many people have died and come back?” The boy asked, apparently rhetorically as he didn’t let her answer. “First the stabby Robin, then the stabby Batgirl, then Batman, and even Red Hood. It’s like everyone I run into is contaminated.” 

Talia’s eyes widened. 

“You can sense those who have utilized the Lazarus Pits?” She would have to inform her father about this child. He could put the entire League of Assassins at risk. The child before her just shrugged. 

“I have no idea what that is. Red Hood mentioned some kind of pit as well, but I’ve never seen anything like that. I just know y’all are contaminated with ectoplasm, though not enough to make a core.” 

“What is this… ectoplasm?” Another name for the Lazarus Waters? Had there perhaps been a Pit outside of League control? In the midwest somewhere based on the boy’s accent. 

“Oh it’s this stuff.” He held his hand out and Talia couldn’t help keep her expression of shock withdrawn despite all her training as his hand filled with the glowing green light of the Pits. He held the Pit Water in his hand then tossed the glowing orb to his other hand in a half juggle as if he weren’t carrying the League's greatest secret and weapon. 

Nevermind telling her father about this child, he could never learn of him. If Ras had the power this child had under his control the world would never survive. There was only one option. She needed to train this child to wield this strength. With the stealth he displayed in sneaking up on her and his power over the Pits themselves he could make an assassin like the world had never seen. He could be the next Head of the Demon under her guidance. She knelt down to the boy’s level, slipping her sword back away as she did so. 

“Tell me, young one. Are you living in this death trap of a building all by yourself?” 

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ve got it taken care of. I know I’m little, but that just means people are less likely to notice me. I’m able to steal all the food I need from that big box store down the street.” 

“Oh of that I have no doubt. My name is Talia al Ghul. What’s yours?” 

“Hmm. I’m Danny.” The boy seemed hesitant to trust her, which to be perfectly honest was probably a very smart thing to do, but at least she had a name for this gift of Lazarus. 

“Danny, how would you like to come live with me? You won’t have to steal any more, or worry about food ever again, and I could train you how to fight even better than the Bats.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her over closely. 

“Would I get a sword?” 

“If a sword is what you want, then once you were trained in its use I would acquire one for you.”

Danny looked like he was about to nod, but then he froze, his head tilting to the side as if he was listening to something. His eyes widened and Talia tensed. 

“Uh-oh. Fruit Loop incoming. I gotta go.” 

Talia half turned as she heard the sound of one of her beloved’s grappling lines catching on the building’s edge. By the time she had turned back to face him, Danny had completely vanished. She hadn’t even heard him leave. She stood and scowled as her beloved landed on the rooftop next to her. 

“Talia.” He grunted at her, glaring all the while. 

“Beloved. Must you ruin every nice thing in my life?” Talia snarled back. The boy, Danny, had the gift of Lazarus at his beck and call and Batman had scared him off. 

Bruce looked momentarily stunned at her fury, but quickly hid it behind his mask. However Talia couldn’t care less about her beloved right now. She just needed to lose him so she could return to find the boy. The boy who would change the world with his power. 

[apollodarling-writes]

Babycakes can you pretty please write a male y/n x yan!ghostface where y/n doesn’t die in the end and lowkey falls in love 🤭 (also pretty please make ghostface a praiser 🙏🏽)

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

yan! dbd! ghostface x gen jockey! male! reader

cws : yandere themes, a bit of dry humping, praise, creampie, choking, rough sex, kinda ?? handjob (reader receiving), orgasm control, knife play, anal, pronebone, dubcon??? , mentions of public masturbation, thigh fucking, danny is a tease, reader cleans his blood off of the bowie so blood play but ingestion??? , cum eating i guess but the reader is made to clean up his cum from danny’s gloves.

the fog that hung between the trees was particularly thick this trial. the red forest was known for being hard to navigate in some areas due to the low lighting, and the natural fog scattered throughout the landscape was of no help either. you were unsure if one of the survivors offered the entity a bottle of murky reagent, but it had become harder to see than it already was. you suppose you couldn’t complain as it made you harder to track, and thus it was easier to hide.

your group had completed two generators without a single person being hooked. anxiety knotted your stomach as you mulled over what the killer was up to. was the killer waiting for your group to finish the generators and then camp the gates? were they watching from the shadows and getting some sort of sick pleasure from watching the lot of you squirm? the answer to these questions was beyond your reach, and you knew that all you could do was focus on the task at hand. if you struck the wires too early, you would blow up the generator and the killer would surely know your location if they didn’t already.

a chill runs the length of your spine, gooseflesh raising the hairs on your body. you stop repairing the generator for a moment, the feeling of being watched prevalent as your swivel your head to find the source of the gaze. you’d been in this realm long enough to abide by your instincts. your gaze flits through the trees, your heart thumping in your chest as you are unable locate the source. chalking it up to the quietness of the trial, you busy your hands with firing the wires of the generator, successfully sparking one portion. you sift through your toolbox, searching through old and rusted scraps for something to replace one of the broken parts.

a hand suddenly grips the back of your neck, hoisting you off the ground. a hand muffles your cry of protest, bending your front over the generator.

“shhh… just be quiet now, baby.” a muffled voice all but pants, their chest pressing against your back as they lean forward to whisper in your ear. “i’ve finally got you to myself….”

you recognize that voice — the ghostface. realization washes over you; the quietness of the trial, feeling watched, the lack of a terror radius…. it all made sense now. your tongue darts out to lick the leathery material of his gloved palm in a feeble attempt to get him to release you.

“be patient now,” the ghostface groans, “we’ll get there, pretty boy.”

the ghostface maneuvers his fingers to grip your wrists, pinning them behind your back while grinding his half-hard cock into the meat of your ass. you squirm at his touch, feeling disgusted at the desperate panting the man behind you let out.

“i know you’ve been thinking about this,” the masked man grunts, his breath hitching. “i’ve seen you fuck yourself in trials before — did’ya think i wouldn’t know?”

shame and embarrassment wash over you, a quiet whimper leaving your lips as a hand snakes around to palm you through your bottoms. “n—not here… please—“

“god, look at how cute you are,” the ghostface coos, his gloved hand slipping past your waistband and cupping your length. “keep begging like that and i won’t be able to control myself.”

“i’m not—“

“ah-ah, quiet now… don’t you wanna be good for me, baby?” he purrs, your hips bucking as his thumb brushes against your cockhead. ”mmm, so sensitive. i think im gonna have fun with you…”

the ghostface’s hand tugs down your pants, your protests going unheard as you hear his robes shift. his cock slides between your thighs — the intrusion unwelcome and unfamiliar.

“stop… i cant — we can’t… not here.” you panic, your gaze flitting through the areas you could see. god forbid any of the other survivors witness this and get the wrong idea. you’d be considered a fucking traitor. maybe they’d even think you were selling them out. or, shit, what if they thought you were slutting yourself out to survive?

“shut the fuck up,” he groans, his cock brushing against your shaft. “just sit there and look pretty for me, ‘kay?”

your mouth immediately closes, figuring it would be better to just let him have his way and hopefully all five gens will be done by the time he finishes. your body is tense with shame and guilt, your thighs clenched around the masked man’s length in an attempt to get him off faster.

the ghostface spits in his hand, wrapping his fingers around you again, and pumps you in time with each thrust. with each movement, you find yourself melting into his touch, biting your lip to keep yourself quiet. he was too good at this, and he fucking knew.

“y’like that, baby?” you could hear the smirk in his tone.

“fuck you.“ you grit out, hating that you were becoming aroused at such an invasive, disgusting act.

“oh, i plan to, little bunny.”

the masked man removes his hand just as you were on the cusp of your orgasm, a soft whine leaving your lips. your cockhead is flushed an angry red, beads of precum now smeared along your shaft. “why’d you—“

you suck in a breath as a finger slowly dips into your ass, curling into your g-spot. the feeling was foreign, and it hurt like a bitch, but fuck did it feel good. “yeah? just like that, pretty boy?”

he slowly pumps his finger, careful not to hurt you as he works up to another one; his fingers scissor and stretch, curling into your prostate. before you knew it, the man had gotten three fingers in you, your legs shaking and your whimpers increasing in volume as you come closer and closer to your climax.

“fuck — ‘m gonna cum.” you pant, your back arching as you try to fuck yourself on his fingers. through a lust-induced haze, you hear a faint chuckle before the sensation you crave eludes you. the ghostface removes his digits, your cock twitching and aching for release.

“oh, you poor thing. were you gonna cum?” the man murmurs teasingly, his own erection throbbing beneath the layers of his robes. he eagerly grips the back of your neck and ushers you on your stomach behind the generator, lifting his clothing just enough to carefully push inside of you.

“y’so fuckin’ tight..!” he hisses, releasing your wrists to press down on your lower back. your fingers find purchase in the dirt of the forest floor as the ghostface slowly thrusts into you, your gummy walls hugging the man’s cock so deliciously.

with each thrust, you found it harder and harder to control your volume. with the way the man had angled himself, the tip of his cock bumped against your g-spot damn near constantly. your stomach tightened as your release began to approach once more, desperate whimpers and whines leaving your lips as tears pricked your eyes.

“i’m gonna cum – ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum…” you whine, “please, i need more!”

the killer groans in ecstacy at your desperation, his cock twitching inside of you as one hand wraps around your throat, lifting you from the dirt. “gonna have to fuck you more often, yeah? youre doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby.”

his digits tighten around your throat, cutting off your air supply as your jaw slackens at the brutal pace. a gurgled moan parts your lips, your face growing red from the lack of oxygen. mercifully, he releases his grip on you, but is quick it with the cold steel of his bowie knife.

the ghostface snakes an arm around your midsection, pumping your cock in time with each mind-numbing thrust. you hold yourself up as the blade trails along your flesh, drawing thin lines of blood. it seemed that the man was getting off on the pain he inflicted, his thrust becoming harder, faster.

the blade trails up, pressing against your lips. “open up, baby. gotta clean up your mess.” the ghostface breathily groans, his thrusts growing sloppy.

your lips part, the blade resting on your tongue as your lips close around it. it tastes like iron, your own blood coating your tongue as your cock twitches in the killer’s fist. ropes of cum spill onto the leather of your assailant’s glove, a long moan erupting from your throat as your vision blurs with tears. your hips buck into his grasp, the killer never once stopping. your mind melts into a delicious quiet, the only thing you’re able to focus on is how fucking good it feels.

“fuck — you feel so fucking good, bunny.” he groans, sheathing his blade and replacing it with the cum stained leather. “be a good boy and clean off my glove, yeah?”

the killer pants as you mindlessly obey his order, the bitter taste seemingly only serving to arouse you further. you lap at the cum on his glove while the killer fucks into you with fervor, breathy groans leaving him as the chill of his mask presses into your shoulder. the ghostface weakly thrusts into you as his climax washes over him. his cock twitches inside of you, cum painting your insides as he slowly comes down from his high.

the man is quick to fix his attire as the exit gate sounds, leaving you breathless as cum drips down your thighs, the scent of dirt and sex staining your clothing. with shaky legs, you pull up your bottoms and quietly mull over what just happened as you make your way to the exit gate on the opposite side of the map.

[starry-bi-sky]

What's a scarier thing to say than 'I love you?' - DPXDC Stillborn Au Ficlet

Danny doesn't believe in the words "I love you".

People always say it's one of the scariest things people can say to another, because it lays them bare in front of the one they say it to, revealing their vulnerabilities and true thoughts and feelings to the world like an open wound. Telling someone you love them is the bravest thing you can do.

He thinks it's a load of bullshit. He's had two of his foster parents tell him they loved him, only to turn around and stab him in the back days, weeks, months, minutes later. Anyone can say they love you with nothing more than a sweet smile and a dagger hidden behind their spines. 'I love you' is an empty phrase, one that makes his heart beat unpleasantly in his chest and his palms sweat as he waits for the other shoe to drop.

'I love you' is a ploy. A plot. A lie. It's a coward's way out. If someone loves him, he wants them to show it, not say it. Because if 'I love you' is such a scary thing to say, it should be easier to show it in their hands, in their actions.

Wanna know what he thinks is the scariest thing in the world to say? What most people hem and haw and try and avoid? Try and deny, deny, deny?

The words, 'I hate you'.

There, that's the scariest thing in the world to say. Everybody can say 'I love you' and say they mean it, he's found that nobody wants to say 'I hate you' and say they mean it. That's a phrase everyone gets uncomfortable with, that everyone doesn't want to believe no matter how much you insist it.

Danny wonders a lot about why that is. Why everyone can love everyone, but nobody can hate anybody.

He thinks it's because hate can be personal in a way that's too similar to love. You can hate in a lot of ways, just like you can love a lot of ways. But in order to hate someone, really hate someone, in a way that's not far off and distant like distaste, but truly personal, burning and all-consuming loathing, you need to care about them in some way.

To hate someone implies an investment in their well-being in a way that mirrors love. It indicates a level of importance that person holds in your life that exceeds beyond simple indifference or disgust (an emotion easily mistaken for hatred despite its fleetingness).

To hate someone and to say you hate someone means that the thought of them fills you with a fire that carves into the marrow of your bones. That you think of them, even if it's not in a good way. To hate you need passion. To love you need passion.

To look someone in the eyes and say you hate them, and truly, really mean it, that is something that takes courage. That is something that requires you to lay your soul bare and reveal your vulnerabilities like an open wound.

But he supposes he can understand the confusion.

Hate and Love are not opposites after all, they're siamese twins.

Nobody ever wants to say they hate someone. Everyone wants to say they love somebody.

He wishes his foster parents had just said outright they had hated him, he wishes they hadn't strung him along with calorie-less love. He wishes they had just left him alone rather than sat him on the rug they were gonna pull out from under his feet. The ones who said they loved him hurt worse than the ones that never said it at all.

At least the people who said they hate him are honest about it.

What was he doing again?

He curls tighter into himself, his arms squeezing around his legs as burning magma flow spills over his shoulders and cocoons him away from the chill of the living. Danny's hair had broken out of its braid some time ago, and he'd burned off the excess lava and thrown it to the side to get it off his back, but it never takes long to grow back longer.

It's fine, it's fine. It's letting him hide.

Danny's not sure how long he sits there, stewing in his own heat and hurt, but it's long enough that he forgets why he's even there in the first place. It's long enough that the terrified fury lashing out in his core like a solar flare cools and settles, and then forgets why it was even lashing out at all.

It's long enough that he falls asleep.

Long enough that when he wakes up, it's to the feeling of a hand pushing away his hair like one pushes back a curtain in order to peer at the sunrise behind it. Fingers, sharp, clawed, brush over the bridge of his nose and his cheek in order to tuck the magma out of his face.

There's only one person capable of touching his hair -- made of magma and always burning, reflecting his own feelings, untouchable to the living -- without melting their hand right off. Danny peeks open his bleary, tear-sore eyes, and sees Vlad Masters, as Plasmius, kneeling through his lashes.

He's too exhausted to be angry at his appearance. Danny goes to say something -- to ask why he's here, why he's bothering him -- and all it comes out as is incoherent grumbling. Plasmius breathes out through his nose, a soft little sighing sound that follows with a smile shadowing over his mouth.

It's terribly fond, it's terribly foreign, and it sparks terror in Danny's heart.

(Sam compared him once to a traumatized alley cat, she wasn't that far off from it.)

"There you are." Plasmius says, voice terribly soft and just the slightest bit chiding. He brushes more of Danny's hair out of the way, thumb brushing over his brow bone, affection that he acts as if it's so easy to give. As if it’s so easy to extend to him, like he deserves it. Affection that Danny is so horribly starved for that the feeling makes him both nauseous and ravenous. "Your little friends were worried about you. When they couldn't find you, they called me."

Again goes unsaid and un-lingering, but it still pierces guilt through Danny like a shot to the head. It's not the first time this has happened, and he doubts it will ever be the last. He squeezes his eyes shut in shame, and ducks his head down into his knees like a scolded child.

Apologies come easy, like an automated message machine, even if it burns and thickens the back of his throat. Danny swallows the heat in his mouth and reaches for something even easier to say; "Go away."

Plasmius clucks his tongue, completely unaffected, and his hands move to gather the magma spilling over Danny's shoulders into his palms. "And leave you alone? I'm your archnemesis, little badger, I'm afraid that's not allowed."

Danny tries to glare at him even if his core swells with a feeling he can't name, a burning, gelling feeling like a bubble in a volcano about to burst. He tries again, and bares his fangs for good measure, "Fuck off."

His voice breaks, trembling like a little kid, and lacks any sincerity or bite.

Again, Plasmius just looks terrifyingly fond, if a bit exasperated, his eyes rolling despite the lack of visible iris. Danny watches from the corner of his eye as the man's hands begin to superheat against his hair, glowing bright and brighter until it would've been blinding to anyone who wasn't dead, before yanking.

The magma disconnects from his head painlessly, and his hair is short once more. Plasmius tosses the excess off to the side with the rest, and sizzling fills the room as the lava sinks into the ground.

Plasmius' hands finds his face again, tucking his hair behind his ears before pulling him forward. Danny lets him move him bonelessly, fingers curling around his cloak as he sinks into the embrace. It's embarrassing how routine it is, how easy it is for Vlad to tuck him under his chin like a child. It's mortifying how easy it is for Danny to cling onto it.

He's terribly warm, and Danny is always so fucking cold. He doesn't know how to keep all the heat he gives off, and so he's always shivering. Vlad's hand smoothes down the nape of his neck, over his spine, and not for the first time, Danny wishes he was living with him instead.

He hates that he wants to live with Vlad instead of the Fentons. He hates that he can't. He hates that Vlad is so kind to him when they're not fighting. He hates that Vlad is the only other dead-alive person in the world and Danny can't go to him like he wants to. He hates that he wants to even despite it. He hates that Vlad insists on killing his foster parents. He hates that Vlad wants to avenge him. He hates that Vlad cares enough to want to. He hates-- he hates--

Danny breathes in thick, shaking, and hides. "I hate you."

Vlad rumbles low, laughing, and rubs circles between his shoulder blades soothingly. "I hate you too, Daniel."

He hates that Vlad knows what he means instead.

[phantoms-world-and-more]

Jazz in gothem

So danny was visiting jazz's new phyciatritrist business in gothem

From the sounds of it, its going great!!!

Most of the local rouges have been coming in , and from jazz's talks their getting better, she even said she'd introduce him to someone called mr.freeze who has ice powers and is a doctor danny wonders if he could help him with research, but there are 2 problems

Some furries keep trying to hack into her system, break into the building and attempting to get her to break doctors patient confidentiality, though tucker, reinforced walls from their parents and the anti-creep stick dealt with that problem

Though the option of sending danny after them is always on the table

Thats not the main problem though

No the problem is someone called the joker

Apparently he got word of a good phyciatritrist helping the rouges and according to jazz "tried to make them go back to his level" Apparently its a phyciatritrist term for when someone feels like others are getting better and they arent so they want to bring them back down so they dont have to change.

Anyway jazz is refusing to see him for a lot of reasons, the negativity and the refusal to get help being the main 2

So jazz called danny up to see if he could get this joker to leave her alone

.

.

.

Jazz, her clients, batman, red hood and the joker were all in front of her building

Jazz's clients were there because when they got word that the batman AND the joker were there they came running

Joker is there because he wants to distroy this goody-two-shoes fraud of a bitch

Red hood it there because he wanted to book an appointment

And batman is there to try and get information of what this jasmine fenton is up to

They've been talking for about half an hour trying to deflate the situation

After the joker pulled out his gun so did everyone else and this is what got jazz to snap

THATS ENOUGH, you can't barge in here are try to distroy other peoples chance for proper mental health, and you batman cant know whats going on eveywhere its not healthy and is disrespectful to other peoples privacy

The joker fired his gun at jazz and batman was about to try to save the girl when...something happened

A black and white blur got in the middle of joker and Dr.jazz

When the blur stopped ot showed a 16 year old boy with blue eyes, black hair bags under his eyes and he looked as calm as can be

???: you ok jazz

Jazz:yess I'm fine, danny could you please get joker and batman off my property, after i would love to introduce you to my clients

Jazz smiled at the boy and the boy ,now danny, smiled back

Then he turned to face the batfam and the joker

Danny:ok chuckles you have 3 seconds to leave befor i make you

The joker laughed, or he did until danny took 2 steps foreward and ATE him

Dislocated his gaw, opened his wouth wider than it should and ATE him

Danny swallowed the joker turned to the batman and with Lazarus green eyes that they all knew as the pit rage and said

Leave

[semperamans]

clo i need to know your thoughts on cal, johnny and benny all falling for the same, sweet local girl! <3 love ya xoxo

suse how could you do this to me :( currently trying not to scream cry and throw up in the coffee shop :( this somehow turned into jealous!danny? dunno how! kinda long, so ya gotta read more xo

benny says your name like it's this sacred thing and danny knows he's in for a treat. the sun grows weary as she dips beneath the tree line, but danny is unyielding; bony forearms braced on the tops of his thighs, microphone edging just a bit closer to his pondering interviewee. benny blows a stream of smoke from the corner of his mouth, watching as it mingles with the cotton candy clouds and it's hard, danny thinks, to be around benny because everything he does is so damn picturesque. he's filled more than three rolls of film with just benny and yeah, he's gotta be mindful because film isn't cheap and he's broke but there's something about the way benny looks; leather cut laying just so over his shirtless form, white levis baggy from age, speckled with either dirt or blood, he doesn't know, and he's just so cool that it's impossible to resist. danny snaps a quick picture, scolds himself as the ticker tells him he's got four shots left, then turns his chin to watch as benny plucks the near-extinguished cigarette from between his teeth, flicking it into the grass. "what'dya wanna know about her?" "well," danny shifts in the creaky lawnchair, "y'know, i've talked to the guys and they, uh, they say she's the best thing that's happened to the club. girls are sayin' it too, n'not just cus she made you nasty bastards start washing your hands." benny is chuckling, pillowy lips damp from the swipe of his tongue. "so what is it about her?" danny asks then waits and waits and waits as benny sits, per usual, in silence. and, okay, maybe this isn't going as well as danny hoped and now he's scrambling, throwing haphazard sentences around his brain, but then benny is speaking and holy shit he's speaking. danny has never heard him say more than fifteen words but now he's a leaky faucet "she's good - everythin' about her - doesn't have a mean bone in her body, y'know? gave all've us a chance, gave me a chance." benny shakes his head as though he still can't believe it then stops, turning his head at the faint sound of the screendoor closing and there you are in a pair of cutoff overalls, hair pulled back with a crocheted bandana and danny can see it, the whole angelic thing. you pay neither of them any mind, tending instead to the flowers 'round the porch. your little yellow watering can is cute and danny can see the fondness constricting the base of benny's throat. "think m'biased." benny says, turning back to face danny. "but 've said it once and i'll say it till they throw me in the ground: she's heaven sent. an' i hope imma good enough man to see her again when i get where i'm goin'." danny leaves with a rekindled belief in love and hopes that maybe one day he’ll be lucky enough to be loved the way benny is.

it's been three weeks since benny's interview and danny can't help but notice things. he carries this leather notebook around - jotting down names and places and tape numbers - but the page he keeps coming back to is one he scribbled across a few days ago. the thing about benny's girl is that she isn't just benny's girl. he's circled it three times for good measure because benny's girl doesn't just belong to benny - sure, maybe in the ways it matters - but every single soul adores her; lights up when she walks in and it sure is a sight to see fifty or so bikers grinning and stumbling over their own feet for this girl who looks like she couldn't harm a fuckin' fly. if she had a male equivalent danny reckons it would be cal. cal with a personality as warm as fire, who talks to everyone, and cracks jokes, and is unabashedly himself. but cal has a temper and it shows during a run to akron. danny is interviewing zipco when he hears the commotion then suddenly everyone is stampeding toward two swinging figures and he knows this is where he steps back. it's a full-on brawl now and zipco sure as shit wasn't going to stay and yap while there was chaos amuck, so danny plops down, lights a cigarette and waits. "s'guy called her a bitch," cal says and danny almost jumps out of his fuckin' skin. where did the sun go? he scrambles to a sitting position, wiping drool from the corner of his mouth and smacking the record button on his cassette recorder. "what?" "some fuckin' prick called her a bitch." cal's got a handful of ice cubes pressed to his busted jaw and because the man knows no personal space a bloody mix has dripped onto danny's pant leg. "her?" danny's not following but the beat up boy tips his head and danny should've known. it's you. of course it's you. "not gonna let nobody talk to her like that. i don't take too kindly for no one talkin' ill to a lady, but 'specially her. s'the most fucked up shit you can do." that's when danny realizes that cal has it too. it's the same look benny had when you came out of the house - that dumb, lovesick gaze - but cal's is laced with longing and danny actually feels bad for him. "she sure is something." he says, testing the waters. he's out of cigarettes so his nimble fingers pluck a handful of grass from beside his boot. "sure is." cal takes a seat, reaching behind danny to grab the jug of strong-smelling alcohol. "never met anyone like 'er. been everywhere; hell to fuckin' Houston, never met a girl like her before." he takes a deep swig, grimaces, then swallows. "benny sure is lucky, ain't he?" danny says, peering under his lashes at the golden-haired boy and he laughs. "we're all lucky. she's the sweetest of the sunflowers, man. she's like the fuckin' sun. least she is to me - to us." poor bastard, danny thinks. poor infatuated bastard.

"where ya gonna be sittin', baby?" "with johnny." "good girl, c'mere gimmie a kiss." danny's at the bar nursing a beer and a hangover and probably a concussion and you know what? this kinda talk doesn't phase him anymore. he's used to it by now; sure he doesn't know the rules, but it's none of his business anyway and in his four months with the club he's learned, above all else, that bikers are fuckin' weird. still danny finds you, watches as benny grabs your chin bringing you up up up onto your tiptoes before planting delicate kisses onto your giggling mouth. "you go see 'em." it's a whisper and danny's not trying to eavesdrop but he finds himself leaning closer. "looks like he needs some cheerin' up." and maybe danny is still invested because he turns, following you as you float over to johnny's table where he's hunched over an intimidating stack of papers. you say something, but your sweet voice is too quiet over the racket and danny cares so he stands, goes over to the pinball machine, but doesn't turn it on. "hi, pretty." johnny reaches over, takes your hand, tugs you closer and you giggle, bracing your hands on his broad shoulders and this is different. none of the other guys put their hands on you - just benny, just benny because he's yours and you're his but johnny does it so naturally danny knows he's done it before. "what's goin' on, old man?" your voice drips nothing but affection and johnny smiles around his cigarette and launches into club dues and the upcoming springfield run and the dwindling bail fund and danny starts losing interest; his feet are going numb and there's only so much longer he can stand there pretending to fucking play pinball before someone catches on but then you're on johnny's lap and yeah this never happens. danny has seen benny beat the dog shit out of a guy for even suggesting that you sit next to him but now here you are, balanced on one of johnny's broad thighs, spinning his wedding band around and around his finger and benny sees, fucking smiles at the sight, and drops his head, lining up his next shot at the pool table. danny realizes you're talking and running your hand up and down johnny's arm as you validate his feelings and strategize fundraising plans and promise to bake some of your infamous strawberry shortcake bites. johnny's promised hand lays so delicately upon your cheek danny thinks he may kiss you but thank fuck he doesn't because danny'd surely blow his cover and a load in his pants because, okay, yeah, he gets it. knows now why everyone loves you, has started to catch feelings of his own but he's not johnny or benny and he'll never be able to touch you the way he wants so he guesses he'll join the ranks with cal as just another distant admirer. just another love struck bastard.

[often-daydreaming]

Keep Running

In between one moment and the next reality quakes and for the briefest of moments Jason finds himself standing in the remnants of a destroyed Star City. He knows it's not real, that it's just some magical mumbo jumbo overlaying memory magic nonsense bleeding into their timeline but he can smell the smoke in the air from the fires and hear her tired laughter as the static filled image of a red haired woman sits down beside him. He knows her or at least this version of him does as they talk about the little suicide run they were planning in order to hopefully end things for good and Jason can feel how tired his alternate self is as he takes a seat on the ground beside her. It's all a rush of emotions and faint memories that were getting harder and harder to ignore before he's suddenly back on the Watchtower with every other available hero the League could call in stuck arguing about these stupid visions affecting heroes and villains all over the globe if some of Ra's latest movements were any indication. His men were searching everywhere for answers while others like Luthor were making more subtle inquiries. The only upside to all of this was the reactions coming out of Arkham but that didn't mean he wanted to be up here with the League nearly at each other's throats.

With everything he's managing to piece together through a couple of brief check-ins with Dickie and the girls he could see why B wanted answers.

As morbid as it sounded Dick and the others were a few of the lucky ones who were able to be pulled out of their memories faster since they were at ground zero when the Watchtower was pulled out of orbit. The quicker you died the quicker it was over but neither of them were as lucky.

In those jumbled memories him and Bruce were the only two left after Gotham went up in flames since Phantom went after them first and there were still a few lingering effects clinging to that since he could still remember what the older version of himself felt. It was somewhat muted now but some of it was still there and if he focused hard enough Jason could still see the makeshift doctor's office in his mind. He could feel the phantom pain and see her flowing red hair. She seemed so relieved to find him alive and he wanted his own answers but Impulse was in the wind.

The little speedster was gone before anyone could really recover from the sudden onslaught of memories and while Bruce was doing everything he could to figure out a plan of sorts the others weren't as lucky with Superman stuck bouncing between the moments of his own brutal death and worrying about his family's safety. Whoever or whatever Phantom was, he knew exactly where to hurt them with Jon nearly losing it in public after being forced to live through the memories of his mom dying and the man of steel's own death at the hands of some magical Martian whatever.

Wonder Woman seemed the most put together out of everyone but even she was kind of twitchy, her had never leaving the pummel of her sword as Zatara went over what he could piece together on his own since the bulk of JLD was still out of commission.

His own daughter was comatose from the magical backlash of whatever this was while Constantine was just missing, his home a mess of overturned books and hurried scribbles which left them on the back foot for now since the only solid lead anyone had was Impulse and Young Justice was closing ranks around their missing speedster.

With JLD in shambles and Ra's on the move Replacement was running his own investigation into whatever was going on and shutting everyone else out of his systems after the first attempt at locating Impulse through his tracker backfired horribly.

I blame my cough medicine and a love for Fallout for whatever this is turning into but I felt like adding onto Run a little. I wouldn't even begin to know how to explain it but I just have this image in my head of Bart and Danny in a Fallout like world but the whole memory thing could be anything really. I just like the idea of reality shifting to the left just enough that Bart suddenly remembers details about his past he'd forgotten thanks to time travel/reality resetting and he suddenly remembers Danny while the rest of his team remember bits and pieces of their missing teammate Phantom. Everyone else just gets doomsday memories cause I really don't care and mostly think it's funny so I'm either blaming this on the gauntlet from the movie or Clockwork but anyone could add something else if they want.

[asacredthebread]

After Work Affections •☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Danny Wagner x Reader - 18+ 𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚢, 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍. Warnings/Themes: Thigh Riding, Praise, Sexual Themes. WC; 769

You walked through the front door, the familiar scent of home wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The day had been long, and the thought of being with Danny—the man with the long, brown curly hair and warm brown eyes—was all that had kept you going. He was sitting on the couch, casually relaxed, a warm smile spreading across his face as he looked up at you.

“Hey there, you,” he greeted, his voice honeyed and inviting. You felt your heart lift at the sight of him. He always had that effect on you, making the weight of the day melt away with just a smile.

“Hi, Danny,” you replied, your voice softer than usual. You could feel the tension in your body slowly dissipating, but something else stirred within you—a growing need that you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

“How was your day?” he asked, leaning back slightly, his gaze locking onto yours with that familiar intensity. You could see the way his interest piqued, those brown eyes sparking with curiosity and warmth.

“It was okay,” you said, trying to shake off the remnants of the day. But as he continued to speak about his own day, detailing the little things that made him smile, you felt that need deepen. Each word he uttered seemed to resonate inside of you, stirring something more primal.

You moved closer, the space between you feeling both comforting and charged. It was like a magnet pulling you in. You were drawn to him, to that easy confidence he exuded, the warmth radiating from his body. Without fully thinking it through, you decided to sit on his lap, straddling him as you felt the weight of his presence envelop you.

He looked surprised for just a moment, his eyebrows lifting in delight. “Well, look at you, all cozy,” he said, his voice playful and rich with affection. You shifted slightly, feeling the warmth of his thigh beneath you, the heat between your bodies igniting a spark of need that surged through you.

“Danny…” you breathed, looking into his eyes. You could see the spark of desire flickering there, and it fueled the fire within you. You began to rock your hips against him, seeking that elusive release, your body craving more.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he praised, his hands coming to rest on your waist, fingers tightening slightly as he encouraged your movements. “You know exactly what you want, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you whispered. You felt both vulnerable and empowered, each movement drawing you closer to the edge you craved. His praise washed over you, coaxing you further into bliss.

“Just like that,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “You ride that thigh, baby. You feel incredible.” His words wrapped around you, spurring on your rhythm as you found your groove, lost in the dance of pleasure. With every thrust, you could see the way his eyes darkened with desire, the way he leaned toward you as if he could take in every bit of you.

“You make me feel so good,” you confessed, breathless.

He responded with an appreciative chuckle, “And you make me feel even better. There’s nothing like seeing you like this, all worked up, just for me.” His hold on you tightened, and something about his unwavering gaze made you feel utterly seen. It was as if he could feel the urgency radiating from you, matching it with his own need.

“Just keep going,” Danny encouraged, his voice a sultry whisper. “You’re doing amazing. I love watching you let go like this.”

With every word of affirmation, every ounce of encouragement, you felt yourself teeter closer to the edge. Danny had a way of making you feel not just desired but cherished—each moment shared felt like a sacred space between the two of you.

As you moved faster, riding his thigh, you felt the tension coiling within you, ready to snap. “Danny, I’m so close,” you gasped, and his response was immediate.

“Just a little more, baby,” he urged, his voice full of warmth and reverence.

With one final push, everything inside you released, a wave of pleasure rolling through you that left you breathless. You could feel Danny’s steady chuckle vibrating through his chest, the way he leaned in closer, holding you tightly as you came down from the high.

“You did so well,” he praised, his voice tender as you collapsed against him, the warmth of his body enveloping you. “There’s a good girl.” You melted against him, the weight of the day replaced by the gentle warmth of contentment and love in that intimate moment.