#inspired by being home for the holidays post coming out

[tuffgho-st]

family photos

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ keep this drive to just us two | fushiguro megumi

wc: 2.7k

summary: megumi is a liar, but there’s a reason for all this.  

contains: f!reader in mind but can be read as gn!, college!megumi, pre-relationship stuff, feelings, some swear words

a/n: happy birthday to our boy ♡ set in the same universe as this megumi fic (so a ~kind of part 2); some songs that inspired this & ones i imagine playing in the car: the shining by the neighbourhood, paradise by chase atlantic, & over the moon by the marías

part: 1 | 2 | 3 series m.list: by your passenger seat

It’s just you and Megumi on a late night drive—a quarter past 11 p.m.

The passenger seat has long since been adjusted to you, his car a somewhat second home. There’s that characteristic reverb accompanying the deep bass of the music he listens to, and his knee is bobbing to the beat of it, like it always does when the music is good. 

Megumi’s car always smells of mint, a fresh, crisp scent that cuts through—an accurate depiction of the man: level-headed, cool. A sharp honesty exists in every word he speaks; it’s the only way he knows how to be.

Except, maybe, lately. Like this moment.

Megumi’s a liar right now. 

He feels a little guilty for it, tricking you into coming out tonight. But how bad can it be to invite you under the guise of it being from Yuuji? 

“Yuuji said he’ll meet us there?” you settle into your seat, dragging the seatbelt across your body before locking it into place. 

Megumi shifts the gear to drive, nodding as he turns the wheel to get out of the parking lane. He can’t trust himself to speak. 

The ride is quiet save for the music, a comfortable silence he seems to only have with you. Nobara and Yuuji like to talk, to fill in the empty pockets of air he never feels the need to. You—you adjust, read the room; you become what the situation calls for all on your own. 

That’s what he likes about you, among many other things—he’s stopped lying to himself about that, at least. 

The streets whiz past you in a blur, both vaguely familiar and unrecognizable. There’s a fast food joint your group of four frequents as a post-party drive-thru, and the holiday lights are strung up on lampposts lining the sidewalks. 

Yellows, reds, and greens melt into one another as the backdrop of your window. But all Megumi sees is gray—

When he dislodges his phone from the stand clipped to the AC vents at the center console, handing it over so you can control the music. His eyes stay locked on the road until he feels it, the slightest brush of your fingers against his.

He turns to you, a quick glance; you’d shrugged off your puffer jacket some time during the drive and tossed it to the backseat, leaving you in this right now.

—the gray sweater that he knows all too well; that you haven’t returned but you wear like it’s yours, as if this piece of him is something you’ve chosen to keep. 

It looks better on you, anyway, he thinks.

He turns back to the road, breathing a little quicker, grip tighter and knuckles a bit whiter. 

If he listens carefully, the comfortable silence between you hasn’t actually been all that silent lately. A constant beat’s been drumming in his ears, exacerbated only every time you’re near. You’ve locked eyes far too often for two people sitting in a car, driving from point A to point B, and this isn’t the first time your fingers have brushed, nor is it the second, or third (or even fourth if he’s thinking about the technicalities). 

He finds himself smiling too easily when you speak, the corners of his lips aching by the time he’s dropped you off on the way home. You’ve looked at him fondly too, a handful of times, when you think he won’t notice; but it’s impossible not to when he’s paying just as much attention—from the corner of his eye, in his periphery. A responsible side-glance that inconspicuously catches everything. 

There’s something between you two, and he’s grown more confident of that the more he’s accepted his fate:

He likes you.

It’s why he called you tonight, out of all nights, in the first place. 

Aimless driving can only be so convincing up to a certain point, and that point comes fast approaching as Megumi is about to pass the same street for the third time. You don’t notice because you’re queueing songs on his phone, but he has to think of a diversion—just something to tide him over past midnight. 

“I’ll get us some snacks,” he signals to the left, pulling over to a 7-Eleven. 

“Oh!” you look up from his phone, swapping it for yours, “I’ll ask Yuuji if he wants anything. Did he mention if Nobara’s coming?” 

Megumi freezes, panic setting in—if you message Yuuji now, you’ll realize that he’s been lying. He holds his breath, shifting the gear to park before pulling at the edges of his sleeves.

Think. 

“He’ll eat anything, it’s fine. Nobara probably won’t come too. Wouldn’t pick up when he called.” 

For someone who always puts things bluntly, he’s surprisingly good at coming up with lies right now. 

You hum, nodding, “Okay. Do you want me to go down?” 

“I’ll be quick,” he shakes his head, fishing around the center console for his wallet, “you want anything?” 

Then he looks at you, your head tilted to the side as you think. A little pout causes your lips to jut out and he can’t help it, how his eyes fall to them, shiny in the way only your lip balm can make them. 

“Maybe something warm?” 

Your voice snaps him out of it, but the moment is frozen—like he’s been caught red-handed. He’s so sure you saw him staring, your eyebrows shooting up, flustered while watching his gaze shift from your lips to your eyes. 

He doesn’t expect it when you do the same thing. 

It’s freezing outside and his lips feel chapped; he wonders if they’re cracked, if you’re studying the grooves of split skin—if he should buy lip balm by the counter, on the way out. 

He looks away, clearing his throat, one hand to the door handle. 

“Okay,” he opens it, “turn up the heat if you’re–”

You nod.

“Yeah, okay.” 

He steps out. 

The cold is biting as he tucks his hands inside his pockets, rushing to get into the convenience store. 

(You watch his back retreat from the window of his carseat, and the influx of cool air should make you shiver, but you feel warm, heat rushing to your cheeks. 

This whole night has been confusing; the subtle touches and lingering gazes—ones like just moments ago, especially. Being alone with Megumi lately has been both comfortable and nerve-wracking; you have feelings that you aren’t quite sure are reciprocated, no matter how much Nobara teases the both of you already. 

You can’t take it; you need a buffer—where is Yuuji? 

11:41 p.m. 

< are you otw already? we just went to grab some snacks

You wait, fingers tapping on the back of your phone. 

11:42 p.m. 

yuuji 🍡

> huh?

> otw where? 

> who’s we?

> i’m outside fushiguro’s rn! with gojo-sensei!! apparently he surprises him every bday…

> you should come! you live near right?

You scrunch your eyebrows, confused. There are too many thoughts in your head right now—has Megumi been lying? 

11:43 p.m.

< oh ok, i probs misunderstood!!

< and i’m out tonight, idt i can make it but lmk how it goes!!

You’ve never known Megumi to be a liar, but he’s definitely in it right now for some questioning.)

The 7-Eleven doors swing open, revealing Megumi with his shoulders shrugged up to his ears, hands deep inside his pockets as a plastic bag hangs around his wrist. He opens the car door, immediately settling in his seat before shutting it. 

He still won’t meet your eyes, fishing through the random snacks he bought instead. It’s awkward, the air in the car tense; and it takes the biggest guts in him to look up as he hands over the warm bottle of tea he got you, just like you wanted. 

It’s even worse when you’re staring right back, expecting—almost like you’re about to confront him. 

“Be honest,” you start, eyes squinting. 

Shit. Sweat forms at his palms as he blinks, the beat drumming in his ears intensifying. 

“Did you bring me out here to murder me?” 

He raises an eyebrow, expecting you to convict him for lying, “The fu–”

Which you do, bringing your phone up so he can read. Your text chain with Yuuji casts a white light over his face, his eyes darting from side-to-side as he scans each message. 

(You aren’t mad or anything, just even more confused than you already are; some clarity would be nice, once and for all. 

Embarrassment is painted on his face the more he reads through your phone screen, lashes entirely too long as it bats against the tip of his cheeks; a faint pink blooms on his skin, like winter peonies.) 

There’s a reason for all this. 

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath; he’s dreading having to open them—do you think he’s weird now? That he had some ulterior motive bringing you out? His jaw clenches at the thought—

But then you laugh, a soft chuckle that accompanies the ‘click’ of your phone turning off. And when he takes a peek, squints one eye to catch a glimpse, you’re smiling; your lips are pressed together with the corners curled up slightly, as if you find this entire thing funny. 

The tension dissipates, but he frowns, eyebrows scrunching as he considers whether he wants to be the reason for whatever it is you’re thinking. 

“Stop it. Don’t make fun of me.” his head turns to the side. 

You chuckle again, biting your bottom lip, “You’re just too cute.”

A beat.

(It slips out before you can catch yourself, heat rising to your cheeks. Megumi isn’t doing any better; his ears are flushed red, crawling down to the sides of his neck as he swallows.) 

The plastic bag crinkles on his lap, cutting through the silence. 

How can you just… say that? 

You clear your throat, “So, uh, did you know about the surprise?” 

(Your eyes shift to the corner of the infotainment system, 11:52 p.m. in white.)

He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he leans back on his seat. 

“Gojo-sensei tries to surprise me every year, I didn’t think he’d call Itadori this time.” 

“You sound like that’s a bad thing…” you tilt your head, curious. 

He pauses, staring ahead as he considers his response, “Not bad… just,” his fingers fiddle with the plastic bag, “too loud, sometimes.”

(Megumi’s mentioned a bit about this ‘Gojo-sensei’ guy, his kind-of-mentor slash benefactor since being orphaned with his step-sister at age 6. You’ve never met him, but Yuuji never stops talking about how fun he is, how cool. 

It makes sense why Megumi finds him a bit much, if anything.)

“And you think I’m any better?” you snort offhandedly, joking as you turn to the side, facing him. 

He tilts his head towards you, leaning back on the headrest; your eyes lock for a moment, the corner of his mouth lifting subtly before he looks away, straight ahead again. 

If he had the courage, he’d tell you that you’re the only company he wants to spend this birthday with—

That there are songs in his playlist he’d otherwise never listen to, but repeats and repeats and repeats because it reminds him of you;

That he looks forward to doing deep cleans on his car every weekend, but has started to dread it once he noticed that it washes away your scent from the Fridays that he drops you home; 

That he’s a liar because he really likes you, but can’t find the words to tell you.

So he doesn’t say anything, shrugging. 

The silence is telling. 

(You feel too warm, whether from the heating system or from the implications of this moment. The 11:58 p.m. on the clock adds a pressure that it shouldn’t, an almost taunting presence that tells you if you act now, tomorrow could be very different. 

Are you reading the signs right? 

Should you just say it? 

Each second drags on twice as long, and you think—

Fuck it.) 

“Megumi?” your voice breaks through softly. 

The plastic crinkles on his lap as he turns to you. 

He could be any other place right now.

But he’s chosen to be here, with you, parked outside a 7-Eleven, minutes before midnight. 

“If I tell you something, will you be honest with me?” 

He blinks before humming, nodding. This is the least he can do after today’s blatant lying. 

There’s an intensity to your gaze that makes him nervous; your fingers tug at the edges of his (your) gray sweater, a piece of him you’ve taken with you. Then you speak—

“I like you,” you say it plainly, unblinking, “and I need you to tell me if you don’t feel the same.” 

—and you take the rest of him too. 

12:01 a.m.

He stares at you, turning the confession over and over in his head. He’s always had a feeling but it’s different when it’s out in the open, when it’s from you and isn’t based on some gut-feeling. 

There are so many things he can say, but you did ask him to be honest—to tell you if he didn’t feel the same. 

“Do I stay quiet if I do?” he mumbles, cheeks deepening into red. 

There’s a smile he’s trying to hide, one he won’t allow himself to let out until he gets one from you too. 

You visibly relax, releasing the breath you were holding. Your lips curl up instinctively, wide and infectious—that feeling of your heart bursting. 

“Smartass,” you scrunch your nose before glancing at the time, “happy birthday.” 

When you look at him this fondly, there’s not much else he can ask for, really. 

.

You eat the snacks in his car (an exception—whether it’s because of you or his birthday, you’re not sure) and tell him that your actual gift is back home, sitting in dog-patterned wrapping paper by your entryway. 

The drive back is, for the most part, the same—lingering gazes when the stoplight permits, a brush of your fingers when you hand him his phone after queueing songs. You’re wearing his sweater and his car still smells like mint. 

But you both can’t stop smiling. 

And when he drops you off, he’s tempted to tell you to stay longer for just one more song, but he figures there’s lots of time for that now. So instead, he grabs your puffer from the back, gets down and rushes over to open your door, helping you out. 

He holds up your jacket as you slip your arms into it, zipping it up so you stay warm and toasty. Cute, he thinks, when your grin reaches your cheeks; he could pinch them, would you complain if his fingers are too chilly? 

Your hesitance is evident in the way you bite your lip, but you go for it anyway, diving in to land a soft kiss to his cheek. It happens so quickly, it barely registers to him—the touch of your lips to his skin. When you pull away, you look shy.

He doesn’t say anything, heat rushing to the place you’d kissed. You take this as a sign to go ahead, so you move, but he can’t—

—can’t let you go just like this. 

Not when he’s been thinking about those lips since he last laid his eyes on it. 

It’s reflex, the way he grabs your wrist, pulling you back to him. He lets go immediately, hovering, but his eyes drop dangerously, down to your lips—shiny and plump from the lip balm he knows you carry. 

His breathing quickens and he asks so softly, “Can…”, he gulps, nervous, “Can I?” 

You nod, humming. 

(When Megumi leans in, long lashes fluttering over your eyelids, you think, this can’t possibly be real. But then his lips slide over yours, cold but not cracked, and you move yours against them, gentle in the same way he is.

His fingers slot themselves at the edge of your jaw, palm pressed to your cheek; it makes you shiver, how cool it is, but it warms up quickly.) 

The kiss is over far too soon (you think so, too), and when you part, you’re beaming, a twinkle in your eyes that makes him want to kiss you again, if only to keep them shining the way they do. 

It’s the end of the night, but the beginning of something new and Megumi’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the noise; this constant beat drumming in his ear is all he can hear now, swiping his tongue over his lips to taste mint—your lip balm of choice.

thank you note: to everyone who was just as excited abt this as i was—@soumies @mysugu @augustinewrites @mididoodles @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @selarina @pastelle-rabbit @mymegumi @kagelun @irisintheafterglow & @shidouryusm for making me see that paradise is so megumi 🥺

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[introboy]

So so excited to share my @mcytblrholidayexchange gift for @follow-the-compass-home! My concept was to combine a bunch of prompts together into one AU.

The premise is a modern-fantasy roommate situation where Tango, Bdubs, and Etho live together in an apartment. The only issue is that none of them are human, but they're all trying desperately to blend in, even though they don't really understand humanity as a concept.

More information can be found below the cut, and an introductory fic snippet can be found here (x)!

Downstairs Neighbors AU

Prompts used as inspiration:

Focus on Tango, Etho, and Bdubs

Include Boatem

Story told from Grian's perspective

Hybrid/inhuman AU

Angst with a happy ending

Emphasis on character dynamics

Here's a summary!!!

Tango, Etho, and Bdubs found each other by looking for roommates on Craigslist. They live in a 4-bedroom apartment together.

Tango is a spirit who wanted to interact with the world in a physical sense, so he built himself a body. He's basically just a ghost possessing an android (but unlike ghosts, he was never alive; he came into being as a fully-formed spirit). He doesn't adhere to normal bodily necessities like food, water, or sleep, which is convenient but also heavily concerning from an outsider's perspective.

Etho is a specific kind of shapeshifter called a mimic. He doesn't have a true form, but can copy the shape and mannerisms of most living creatures. The only constant across all of his appearances is a scarred left eye and white hair. Unfortunately, it takes practice to nail specific species characteristics, so he often forgets what he's supposed to look like and falls into uncanny valley. He wears a mask to cover his more noticable facial slipups.

Bdubs is some sort of plant creature (he doesn't really understand it himself). He has a perfect internal clock and sleeps, without fail, for 12 hours every night. He spends a lot of time in the unoccupied bedroom-- he uses it as a makeshift greenhouse, and it's filled with grow lights and humidifiers. He loves taking care of houseplants, but it's also a cover for him to spend time under the grow lights. Without enough light & water he gets lethargic.

Bdubs, Etho, and Tango, henceforth referred to as BET, all assume that the others are human. But since none of them know how to act human, they continuously pick up stranger and stranger habits from each other.

BET are close friends with Impulse & Skizzleman, who live together across the hall. Their upstairs neighbors are Grian, Pearl, Mumbo, and Scar, who are also besties with Imp & Skizz. BET and Boatem don't know each other well, but Grian especially thinks his neighbors are really odd.

Like BET, Grian is not human, and neither are the rest of his roommates. But they all know about each other, and Grian especially is really good at knowing how to act natural in public places. He's an avian shapeshifter, who can take the form of either a scarlet macaw or a human. Unlike Etho, both forms come equally naturally to Grian, and the shapeshifting process is a lot easier for him.

(Imp & Skizz are not human either-- they are a demon and an angel respectively. But, like Grian, they're really good at blending in when in public.)

One day, Grian gets injured on a flight and accidentally ends up on BET's balcony instead of his own. He's too disoriented to shift back into his human form or fly away, so Bdubs and Etho find him outside their door. Tango calls Impulse over in the hopes that he knows how to fix the random-injured-parrot crisis, but the only result is that Grian and Impulse start to truly take note of how strange their neighbors' living situation is. Incidents like the one pictured above arise (i.e. everyone finding out that there is not a singular scrap of food to be found in the entire apartment).

Ok that's all the rambling I'll do in this post, but I hope you enjoyed! Happy holidays!!

[azulpitlane]

new years day I ln4

pairing: lando norris x reader summary: in which lando reunites with his childhood crush and only has a few days after christmas to confess his feelings, slightly inspired by new years day by miss swift notes: pt 2 of just pr is still in the works! im also working on a few requests🤸‍♀️enjoy this for now and happy holidays!! masterlist

christmas eve

Lando's hands were shaking as he impatiently waited for you to greet him. It was his family's annual christmas eve party and he watched as his sisters and mother surrounded you the moment you walked through the doors. They hadn't seen you in so long so of course they insisted for you to attend the party this year. You had known Lando and his family since you were a kid seeing as you were childhood neighbors and grew up playing with him and his sisters. As you grew older, you attended his a few of his races and supported him every step of the way, but of course time and other responsibilities got in the way of your friendship. You began to grow apart over the last few years and it was starting to break Lando.

He hadn't even realized it was happening until you stopped attending the christmas parties 2 years ago, something about being too busy on work trips to come home. He had been so busy at the time with racing and having his own girlfriend that he did not even notice he had not seen his best friend in so long. After that he tried to reach out but again, time wasn't on your side because you were now too busy with your own work to keep up with the friendship for too long. Lando watched your life through your pictures on social media and felt his heart ache every time you posted, a reminder that you were growing and living a life without him.

But you were back now. And you looked even more beautiful than you did last time he saw you. You adorned a long dark red dress with black heels and Lando couldn't help but keep his gaze on solely you. You looked up as you felt his stare on you and smiled softly at him. Lando could feel like heart start to race as you excused yourself from the girls and start your way towards him.

"Lan, it's so great to see you. It's been so long!" You extended your arms as you hugged him, missing the feeling of his arms.

Lando's brain was too scattered to even respond so he just squeezed you and nuzzled his head in your neck. He couldn't believe you were back and in his arms. He wanted to stay there for the rest of the night and he couldn't help but wonder if you were feeling the same homey feeling he was. He felt you pull away and he almost pouted, thinking the hug was not long enough for his liking.

You looked at him softly and asked, "How's everything? I watched the races as much as I could and you did amazing this season! Congratulations."

You were always pretty but now? You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He felt like he was ten years old all over again, following you around like a puppy as he started developing his first real crush on a girl. He couldn't help it, you were always just so-

"Lando? Are you alright?'

He snapped out of his daze and realized how much of an idiot he must've looked. There you were talking to him and he did nothing but watch you in silence. He heard snickering and peaked over your shoulder and saw his sister watching the whole interaction with a teasing smile.

"Oh-yeah yeah. I was just zoned out there for a second haha um it's good to see you! Sorry, um what did you say before?" He could feel his face slightly heat up and he wanted to slam his head on the wall.

You giggled finding this situation amusing. You weren't used to seeing Lando like this and were a little confused on why he seemed nervous, but you quickly brushed it off and assumed he was just shocked to see you.

"I was congratulating you on your season, you did great!"

"You still watch my races?"

"Of course I do! I promised I would watch every race, remember?"

How could he forget? It was his first season in formula one and unfortunately you were too busy with school to travel with him, but before he left you pinky promised you would watch every race from that moment on. He never told you but he felt at ease knowing you were somewhere watching over him.

"Yeah, I remember."

You both spent the next hour catching up before your mothers interrupted you both saying it was time for dinner. They placed your seats together, wanting to see you both reunited after so long. They knew Lando was hopelessly in love with you, they were just waiting for you both to realize it.

The dinner felt nostalgic as you were all finally in the same room together. It was filled with laughs, catching up and stories from your childhoods. You and Lando shared stolen glances and flushed faces when someone caught the longing stares.

christmas

"She leaves right after new years day by the way." Lando's mother told him as she handed him a plate of breakfast.

"Who?"

She gave him a knowing glance and he looked down pretending like he hadn't been asking himself how much time he had before you left again and lose contact with you. Last night was amazing and he felt himself falling for you all over again. He always knew he liked you but the less he saw of you over the years, he thought those feelings dwindled. Last night proved that wrong. He tried to date other girls to forget you and it worked for a while until he started thinking of you and wondering how different things would be if he just confessed his feelings.

"Y/n. She's been so caught up in work she wants to go back to her job right away in Spain even though it's not mandatory. That girl needs a break."

"Maybe she's eager to get back because she's met a handsome spanish man." Lando's sister spoke up from beside him. He turned to her with a questioning gaze and she smirked at him.

"No. She didn't mention a guy at all last night. I doubt she's met anyone, right?" Lando's sister and mother watched as he slowly started to panic, his sister with a teasing grin and his mother with slight concern. "I mean if she's so busy with work she couldn't have time for any guy, yeah. Yeah no she can't be with anyone. Right?"

Silence.

"Flo what do you know? Did she say anything about a boyfriend?"

She burst out laughing as she watched her brother panic, she knew there was no other guy in the picture but she liked teasing her brother. Everybody knew about his love for you and though she found it amusing, she just wanted you two to be together already.

"I was just teasing! There is no guy calm down. But if don't confess about your pathetic little crush on her soon then there will be another guy whisking her away."

"What? Crush-no I don-"

"Save it. We all already know, except for her. And we're all getting a little tired of your obliviousness. Just confess before she leaves or you'll lose your chance to. She probably won't be back for another year and a lot can happen in that time span Lan."

2 days later

Lando had thought a lot about what his sister said and later that night decided to ask you to hang out over the phone. You agreed and he felt so relieved, planning on finally confessing his feelings. He psyched himself up and even got some advice from his sisters. Be a gentleman. Don't buy her flowers, you prefer chocolate. Dress nice but not like you're trying to hard. Go somewhere lowkey for dinner. Then take her on a walk and give her your jacket. Be honest. Tell her how you've always felt. If she feels the same, ask for a kiss. Take her home and walk her to the door.

The night had been going exactly as planned and there was never a moment of silence between you two as you made your way over to have dinner, always laughing and sharing stories with each other. That was until you said,

"The waitress totally has the hots for you."

"What! I don't think so." Truthfully Lando was so focused on you, that he could've easily missed her hitting on him. He quickly tried to deter the conversation and not talk about other women when he only wanted to talk about you.

"So what are you thinking of ordering?"

"Hm, I was thinking-wait the waitress is on her way here!"

"Are you guys ready to order?" She focused her gaze on Lando and gave him a sweet smile. He squirmed a bit as he could see you watching the interaction, holding in your laughter.

"Uh yeah, I'll have the pasta carbonara, please."

"Great choice. That's my favorite!"

"Oh how lovely, then i'll have the same thing."

"Perfect, are you two celebrating anything special tonight? An anniversary?"

You could barely contain your laughter, the girl seemed very sweet but you had no idea how Lando hadn't noticed she was clearly interested. She began throwing hints the moment she got their drinks and he was so oblivious to them, you found it funny.

"Um no, we're just two friends catching up."

Two friends? Catching up? Had he not made it clear this was a date?He thought back on the phone call and realized he had said 'hang out' and not explicitly date. Shit, how was he going to make it clear now?

"Lucky me then." She mumbled but you both heard it very clearly. You raised your eyebrows at Lando, wordlessly saying 'told you so'.

The rest of the dinner consisted of the waitress constantly interrupting and focusing her attention on Lando. He was beginning to get irritated but chose not to say anything, he did not want to come off as rude. Before you guys left, you got up to use the restroom and Lando used this time to check his phone. With him distracted, the waitress slipped her phone number in the pocket of his jacket that was hanging over his chair.

You both eventually walked out into the England cold and Lando suggested a walk, happy to get some time alone with you without getting interrupted. You told him you left your jacket in the car and Lando discreetly smiled. Perfect.

"No problem! Here, just take mine."

Before you could even protest, he was draping his jacket over your shoulders and you couldn't help but blush a little. So with flushed cheeks and brushing hands, you both walked and talked about everything and anything. As the winds started picking up, you slipped your arms in the jacket sleeves and put them in the pockets to warm your hands. You felt something in there and curiously took it out thinking it was just garbage.

Lovely to meet you tonight :) Call me xxx xxx-xxx-xxxx

You felt your heart drop. He actually took her phone number. You had found the whole flirting waitress thing funny because it was clear he didn't feel the same way but with him being too nice, he didn't say anything. You guess you were wrong. He was interested. Did he wait for you to leave to the bathroom to ask?

You quickly slipped the piece of paper back in the pocket and looked at him as he rambled about some story of his friend falling for his best friend. You couldn't listen anymore, you didn't even want to be there anymore. You thought maybe after tonight that he liked you back, but maybe that just wasn't the case.

"But yeah, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Like they had been friends for so long it was a matter of time before they, you know, got together." Lando knew he was trying a little too hard but he had no idea how to transition a normal conversation to a love confession. You had stopped responding and he looked down at you and saw you completely spaced out.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh yeah. Just cold. Maybe we should get going, you don't have a coat and it's getting colder."

Lando started panicking, he had completed all the other steps his sisters told him to do but he was about to miss the most important part.

"Oh don't worry about me. I'm fine, I promi-" Achoo!

"You're already getting sick! Come on let's go." You grabbed his arm and pulled him towards his car. He admitted defeat and let himself be dragged.

There was an odd silence on the car ride home and he felt confused on your sudden change of mood. How was he going to confess now? You were clearly tired and a love confession in his car is not exactly the romance he was looking for. As he pulled up to your homes you weakly smiled at him and took off his coat.

"Let me walk you up to your door."

"No it's fine, I can walk a few steps by myself." You didn't mean for it to come out so snarky but you couldn't help it. It stunned Lando and he suddenly felt like he had done something wrong.

"Oh um okay. I'll watch you just in case. But um I had a great time tonight. We should do this again before you leave."

"Yeah, of course."

"How about new years? I'm throwing a small gathering with Max at my old apartment. Do you um want to come with me?"

You should ask a girl you actually like instead of me. Is what you were thinking but instead you said,

"Yeah, sure."

"Great! I'll pick you up at around nine?"

"Sounds good."

One more chance to admit his feelings.

new years eve

"I dont know, she's been acting strange these past few days. Her texts are so dry and I even offered to take her shopping for an outfit tonight and she denied." Lando was starting to doubt himself, he thought about every moment during your little hangout and he couldn't think of anything he did wrong. Should he have rejected the waitress? Maybe he could've been more clear on it being a date?

"Stop overthinking mate, maybe she really just is busy. She's never home, im sure shes taking the time to catch up with friends and family." Max listened to his complaints all afternoon and was getting sick of it.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Stop doubting yourself bro and snap out of it. You have to pick her up soon and tonight's a great day to confess. Just have a drink or two for a little confidence, find somewhere quiet to do it and you'll have your midnights kiss on lock."

"Okay, okay. Tonight's the night."

"Exactly! Now go bring her here!"

Tonight was not the night.

You were wearing a small, tight black dress that made Lando's head spin, and apparently a lot of other men's too because you were constantly turning heads. It was beginning to bother him as he felt like he was competing for your attention all night which led to one too many drinks. He wasn't a fan of alcohol but he definitely needed the confidence boost and his jealousy from seeing you talk to other guys led to him staying at the bar for far too long.

He didn't realize how drunk he was until he got up from the couch to talk to you and the whole room began to spin. He stumbled slightly and Max quickly stood up to catch him.

"Woah, I said one or two drinks, how many have you had?!"

"Uhh I don't know like eight or nine or ten or maybe more, i don't know." His voice was slurred and Max winced knowing there was no way he could talk to you like this.

"Okay let's get you some water and maybe some bread? To soak all the alcohol up and then you can talk to y/n."

"Nah nah, I'm fine. Let me talk to her now."

"No bro listen-"

Lando pushed Max off of him and quickly made his way to you, eager to be in your presence. He interrupted your conversation with one of his friends that he couldn't quite name due to his blurred vision. He put his arm around your shoulder and put his weight on you causing you to stumble slightly.

"Y/N! Just the girl I was looking for, hey let's go somewhere quiet. I wanna talk."

"Okay? Are you alright, Lan? Maybe we should get you some water."

"No, no. Let's go outside for a bit." He interlocked your hands and stumbled out of the room, dragging you along. He leaned against one of the trees and faced you.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"You're so pretty."

You blushed and thanked god for the cold weather, so you had an excuse for your flushed cheeks. He pulled you closer and played with the hem of your dress.

"Thank you Lando. That's what you wanted to talk about?"

"No, well kinda." He paused as he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He took a quick deep breath and tried to swallow the feeling down.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look a little pale."

"Yes, I am-" There was that nausea again, except this time he couldn't swallow the feeling down and before he knew it he was throwing up.

"OH MY GOD! LAN."

Max heard the commotion and immediately made his way towards you. His eyes widen as he looked at you with Lando's throw up on the lower half of your dress and looking like you wanted to hurl yourself. He ran back in and got you napkins before going back out.

"Oh god, here you y/n take these and go into Lando's old room upstairs, first door on the right. There's a bathroom in there and spare clothes you can use."

"Thank you Max, do you need me to bring him water?"

"No no I got it from here, just go clean yourself up."

Lando continued to empty his stomach as Max winced but continued to rub his back. After he finished he grabbed a water bottle and took him upstairs to his old bed.

"There you guys are! How are you doing Lan, do you need anything?" You said as you walked out of the bathroom in a new change of clothing.

Even in his drunken state, he couldn't help but to feel embarrassment. He had just fucked up his chance, and it wasn't even midnight yet.

"I'm so so sorry y/n. I'm so embarrassed, I had too much to drink and I didn't mean to, I swear!" He slurred out.

"It's okay Lando, I promise. Here, lie down for a little bit and drink some water, it will make you feel better."

Max smiled as he watched you take care of his idiotic friend and walked out to give you some privacy.

"Im so stupid. Im sorry, y/n."

"Stop apologizing Lan! I promise you, I am fine. Now close your eyes you look tired."

"But it's not midnight yet."

"That's okay, it will be a new year when you wake up."

You had no idea that the real reason he wanted to stay up was to be your new years kiss. Another plan down the drain. He pouted as he looked at you, you're leaving soon and who knows when he'll see you again.

"Come on, stop pouting. I'll watch over you as you sleep."

"Really?" He looked at you with childlike excitement as his green eyes widened at you.

"Of course, now scooch over."

You both missed the fireworks and celebrations of the new year but that was okay, you were safe in each others arms sleeping.

Lando woke up quite early considering how early he fell asleep the night before. He looked down on your sleeping figure on his chest. He thought hard about what happened last night for you to end up in his arms. The memories came quickly, the dress, the drinks, then the puke. He scrunched his face up and fought the urge to groan in embarrassment. He couldn't believe he managed to fuck up again. He sighed then carefully got up to get some painkillers for his throbbing headache.

He went down to the kitchen and looked around at the mess from the party. Glitter on floor, bottles everywhere, polaroids laying around on the floor. He couldn't stop thinking about last night and started to pick some garbage up to get his mind off of it. He almost wanted to cry, though you were nice about it, it was still a hard blow to his ego. He looked like some idiot who couldn't hold his alcohol in front of you and he wondered if you changed your perception of him after last night. He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn't hear you come down. He was startled by the sudden movement in the corner of his eye causing him to drop the bottle in his hands. Shit. He quickly tried to pick up some of the big pieces up which was a big mistake since he accidentally cut his hand in the process.

"Im so sorry Lan, I didn't mean to scare you. You're bleeding now, let me see."

Of course it was you. Another embarrassing moment to add to the list.

"It's okay, I'm the idiot who grabbed the glass."

You gently grabbed his hand then led him to the bathroom where you had seen a first aid kit. You were so soft and gentle with him as you cleaned the cut in his hand. The mix of you nursing his bleeding hand with last night's disaster and his hangover had his mind foggy and emotional. Lando's eyes began to tear up and he couldn't even pinpoint why. Was he still drunk? Is it because you're leaving tomorrow and he didn't confess? Or was it the embarrassment from last night?

"There you go, good as new." You looked up and you were faced with his pained expression and immediately began to panic. You knew Lando wasn't emotional, over the years you had known him you had only seen him cry a few times.

"Lan, what's going on? What's wrong?"

Your worry was his breaking point and the tears began to fall. You quickly pulled him into your embrace and rubbed his back in hopes of comforting him.

"I'm sorry, this is so stupid. God why the fuck am I crying right now?"

"No, no if it's bothering you it's not stupid and whatever it is, you can tell me, I won't judge."

You pulled away and even though you were confused with his behavior the last few days, you wiped off the tears from his face and were willing to do anything to make him feel better.

"Talk to me Lan."

"I love you."

"What?"

His eyes widened as the words accidentally slipped out his mouth. He didn't mean to say them but you were being so sweet and gentle with him even after everything. There goes the romantic confession.

"No! Um I didn't mean that, I don't even like you."

"Oh."

"NO! Ughh, fuck it."

He grabbed your face and pulled your lips together. You quickly kissed him back and felt butterflies erupt in your stomach. Neither of you could believe this was happening right now, but you were both so content with the moment. Once you pulled away, he kept his hand on your face and smiled at you softly.

"Please don't go tomorrow."

"I won't."

notes: this was not proofread at all so if there were mistakes...my bad

[mamirhodessxox]

Request for Cody 💜

Cody is on the road a lot and a workaholic, to the point he neglects his wife in a way. He misses date nights, family dinners and a birthday party to the point reader files for divorce. Cody then tries to get his family back. ( 3 year old son Silas , 9 month old daughter Brielle )

Before You Leave Me

Cody Rhodes x Fem!Reader

Desc: Cody has seemed to be more focused in his work life than his own personal home life which leaves Y/N in a conflicted decision that he refuses to accept.

Contents: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of divorce, light false accusations of cheating , use of foul language, arguing, Happy endings :)

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts-deactivated2 @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @jeysbvck

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Being married to Cody was not easy, especially if you were head over heels for the man, You thought that if he settled down, had children, etc, he would be less of a workaholic but boy were you wrong. He was on the road 24/7 You & the kids barely got to see him, You both were parents of 2, a 3 year old son named Silas & your new 9 month old daughter Brielle, He missed out on a lot within MONTHS.

Cody was a man who brought food on the table, he was man of the house but because of his absence it was leaving your song with many questions such as “Why didn’t daddy come to my birthday party?” Or “Why wasn’t daddy here for Christmas?” These were questions you had no idea how to answer to the poor kid other than “Daddy was busy” which was a bullshit answer, He should never be too busy to miss out on his sons 2nd birthday but once the 3rd birthday hit you were sick of it and his false promises. This made you order divorce papers before the birthday as a just incase moment if he didn’t show up to his sons party within a few weeks.

2 weeks prior to Silas’ 3rd birthday you two had argued over work and by the end of that shit show he promised with his entire soul he would be there for his sons 3rd birthday, but ultimately he couldn’t make it because of his schedule. This was becoming a regular habit almost every year, Cody missed out on your guys’ dates, holidays, birthday’s & anniversary..but this was the final straw.

It was the day of your son’s birthday and you waited in the backyard watching your toddler run around with his friends while other parents attempted asking you on where your husband was. You held Brielle in your arms checking your phone every few hours but got no updates from Cody.

And then night time struck. You set Brielle in her crib and pranced into your son’s room to tuck him in bed “Mommy?” You heard the 3 year old chirp out as he sat criss crossed in his bed with a moping expression “Yes sweetheart?” Silas frowned when you got to his level “Where’s daddy? He promised.” Your heart broke in half as your son asked where his father’s presence was, you shrugged and frowned before kissing the top of his head “Daddy got caught up in work sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he huffed and turned to his side once you finished tucking him in you had snuck into the bedroom that used to be shared with you & cody, you kneeled down to the height of your bedside table taking out the papers you had waiting for this very moment & began signing away what you possibly could on your side of the divorce & proceeded to walk downstairs with them and set them down on the kitchen counter next to the pen you had used consenting to the divorce.

around 2:30 in the morning you heard the door open & close in a quiet manner followed by a heavy sigh & luggage being set onto the ground which made you sit up from the couch, Cody looked over towards your direction and smiled lightly before taking notice at the irritated look on your face “You missed his party.” He heard you speak up and stop in his tracks before you stood up “Sweetheart there was problems with the bu-“ “You said that for our anniversary, his 2nd birthday, Christmas, Halloween, the excuse is getting outdated Cody.” He frowned and your words knowing you were right, “Well I’m here no-“ you shook your head while walking past your husband and booking it to the kitchen “I’m tired of this Cody. I love you & you know I do hut it kills me when our son is walking around with a hurt heart whenever he sees another child with a present father, he asks me almost 12 times a day where his daddy is or why didn’t you come to his birthday party. Hell he even requested to have a cake dedicated to yo-“ “Y/N I work like hell to put food on the table and keep a roof under your head!” You widened your eyes and glared “Quite honestly Cody I’d rather fucking starve to death if it meant my son & daughter’s father was present in their life! I’m sick of having all of the neighborhood moms gossiping about our marriage & I’m sick of you not being here for your kids & wife!.”

Cody frowned and tried approaching you but looked down at the counters for a split second and saw papers “What the hell is this?” You shrugged before rummaging through the fridge before pulling out a bottle of wine & pouring the red liquid into a glass “Divorce papers Cody. This marriage clearly isn’t working and I’d rather put it to an end now before it gets worse. You’re 4 steps away from having an affair with another woman with how far away you’ve been from your family so I’d rather prevent you betraying our marriage. I’m mainly doing it for the kid-“ “Y/N I would never cheat on you what the hell are you talking about?!”

You frowned setting down the glass & leaned against the counter behind you with crossed arms “You were nearly late when I gave birth to Brielle, You didn’t show up last Christmas or the Christmas before, You didn’t show up to your sons 3rd and 2nd birthday all for a fucking job that involves you getting punched everyday for a check. You forgot about our anniversary, I didn’t want to do this Cody but this marriage isn’t working, If I stayed any longer nothing would change, I have tried like hell to get you to be here for our family but your too focused on a paycheck then us.” You didn’t notice a tear roll down your face until it dropped onto your arm. Cody frowned & approached your carefully and shook his head “I’m not accepting those damn papers sweetheart, You know I won’t, I’m not leaving you or this fam-“ “You already have, You missed out on Brielle crawling for the first time, You missed out on your son joining the little leagues soccer team and getting a score, You even missed out on be finding out I was pregnant with Brielle Cody. How am I supposed to believe you when you haven’t been here to prove me anything?”

He shook his head and stepped closer towards you and tangled his fingers within your hair and wiped off your face with his free hand “Let me make it right sweetness, let me prove you wrong, I’ll do anything in my power to prevent this from happening, I’ll take time off, I’ll quit anything you want just say the word but goddamnit your not leaving me.” He crouched onto his knees in front of you and kissed your legs gently and gripped at the summer dress he gifted you that was hugging your body in the right ways, You’d never seen Cody beg on his knees before, especially for you to stay with him “Cody I want nothing from you, I don’t want child support from thi-“ “Y/N your not fucking divorcing me, I won’t allow it to happen & if you think for a millisecond in that beautiful goddamn brain of yours that I will then you are extremely mistaken.”

Your fingers ran through his hair as he stared up at you before kissing your stomach down your thigh to your leg before holding your hand and kissing the ring he placed on your dainty finger when you both were wedded. “Cody I can’t keep doing this anymore, You keep making false promises that I know I can no longer believe.” He frowned and gripped at your hips slightly while he shook his head non stop “Y/N I will never ever miss out on another holiday, anniversary, or birthday, it breaks me knowing you expect me to betray our marriage I will do anything in my power to prevent you from leaving me even if it means I quit my job baby.”

You frowned and thought about his words before hesitantly nodding your head which made his stand on his feet and holding your face in the palms of his hands “I promise I will never miss another important day ever again angel.” He mumbled before pulling her into a gentle kiss “I love you..” You muttered against his mouth before pulling away “I-I’m really sorry for pulling the whole divorce thing..” he shook his head and pulled you into a large hug “Don’t apologize sweetheart, I understand your frustrations & more than that but you also know by now that You’re not leaving me that easily” you smiled sadly against his shoulder and pull away while he gently grabbed ahold of your hand and placed a kiss on your wedding ring “Why don’t you go and get some rest alright? I’ll take control of everything tomorrow & I’ll empty out my schedule, go get some sleep alright?”

You held onto his hand and nodded hesitantly before pull away making your way upstairs to the bedroom you two would share, Cody stood in the kitchen & sighed running his hand down his jaw & glared over at the divorce papers before snatching them off of the counter & ripping them to shreds before dumping the pieces of paper in the trash before he went upstairs moments later.

The next morning you woke up to his side of the bed quite cold and empty which made you frown “Cody?” You tried calling out but you soon heard the giggles of Silas souring throughout downstairs which immediately pulled you into relief before climbing out of bed & making your way downstairs & seeing Cody serving a birthday breakfast to Silas which brought a warm smile on your face before approaching him “Morning sweetheart.” He hummed out before pushing a mug filled with coffee towards you which you took into your hands “Morning love” you walked past Silas who was eating the pancakes Cody made him & pressed a kiss into his head before doing the same with Brielle who was in a high chair.

You sat on the couch and looked over towards the kitchen once more & smiled to yourself as Cody kept to his word on being more present for you & the kids, You were immediately happy with the fact he fought for you to not go through with the divorce & ultimately proved his promises too you.

mamirhodessxox’s Masterlist

[orchidsangel]

The holiday season with Jason would be the most comforting thing ever, no matter how you spend it. Thanksgiving through Christmas through New Year is basically you being reminded every day why you love him in the first place. He's so attentive and loving, always doing exactly what you need him to do without ever asking, including skipping out on the annual New Year's Wayne gala to spend the night in with you. It's not like he wanted to go anyway, but if you had, then he'd be rifling through his bedside drawer searching for cufflinks just as he had done many times before when you'd wanted to escape the mundaneness of regular civilian life. This year, however, you'd decided to ring in the new year at home, the illustrious and extravagant gala not seeming too appealing this time around. Now, you sit together on the couch, your legs thrown over his lap while he gently massages the muscle of your calf.

Remnants of dinner and dessert sit in empty bowls on the living room table, streaks of brown ganache on the back of a spoon you'd almost licked clean before Jason had pulled it out of your hand, a hearty laugh escaping the typically quiet man followed by a question of whether it was good or not; it was, he knew it was. They were just a couple of delicious experiments you'd helped him whip up as a last hoorah of sorts before settling down to watch the New Year's Eve performances. A star-studded brigade in sparkly costumes dances around your screen, the backing track of some Hot 100 hit playing loudly over the sound of people cheering, visible breaths appearing on the screen every time the camera pans to the audience. They must be freezing, you think, and pull your blanket over your shoulders at the thought of waiting for the ball to drop in this temperature. You feel Jason gently move your legs off of him, getting up to grab the bowls and plates off the table before putting them in the kitchen sink. The countdown on the TV catches your eye, twenty minutes till midnight, and you stand up from the couch, sliding your slippers on, and walking to the balcony door.

The squeaky sound of the sliding door is faint under the sound of the first fireworks going off. Dashes of gold and white paint the sky, the streams of hot light reflecting in your eyes as you watch night temporarily turn to day. You're not sure how much time passes, but pretty soon, the feeling of warmth surrounding you multiplies tenfold, and strong, muscular arms pull you flush against an equally strong and muscular body. Jason cages you in his arms, keeping you close to him as the last few minutes of the year pass, and his grip is tight, like he's scared he's going to lose you when the clock strikes twelve. The sound of crowds on the street counting down gets louder as the year comes to an end. You and Jason stand in silence, numbness settling into your fingers despite the layers of blanket and man wrapped around you. An eruption of screams breaks out, mixed in with some laughter and Happy New Year's, Jason's cue to turn you around by the waist and kiss you intently, swallowing your surprised gasp until it becomes a smile. New year, new me, they say, but you hoped to god Jason had picked a different resolution because the man in front of you was a man you never wanted to change.

(more than) inspired by this ask, and ik it's not new years anymore but i hope you still enjoy it !! it's a little rushed at the end, and for that i'm sorry but i wanted to post it before it got too far away from jan 1. wishing you all the best this year, and thank you for 300 followers <3

[farfromstrange]

Halloween | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 5 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt hasn't been paying attention to you lately. So, on Halloween, you decide to try and get his attention in a way he can't refuse.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), Dom!Matt, choking, praise, degradation, unprotected p in v, no foreplay, slight orgasm control, mentions of oral sex, use of "good girl", Matt looks like a bore in the beginning, there is a stranger who can't take a hint, a very common Halloween costume, protective!Matt, cliché tropes

Word Count: 4.7k

A/n: This is... well, let's just say that you can tell that it was written a while back and then rewritten in parts by Me today because the smut lacked depth, BUT I do kind of like it. It's a Halloween fic, so apologies about that. For this, I got inspired when I bought my "I'm Not Daredevil" sweater in 2022. Plus some general horny thoughts during my first Kinktober on Tumblr that I didn't participate in (2022). I hope you like it anyway.

He hasn’t paid enough attention to you lately.

Between work and the nights spent protecting the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, he is hardly home. He tries to be, but he fails almost every time. The bed is starting to grow colder, and his scent lingers only half-heartedly in the atmosphere. You miss him. You miss his touch, his skin, his voice but most importantly, you miss the spark. It has been two weeks of Matt being slumped, but that is more than enough to drive you crazy.

When it gets colder outside, you need your boyfriend by your side, to hold you and cherish you like he usually would. You miss being desired by someone. You miss being the center of his world. Not that you want him to ignore his responsibilities forever, but just for a few hours, you want him to yourself wholeheartedly. Missing him when he isn’t gone is the worst feeling, and it often leads to tensions in your relationship. 

Matt can be so selfless that it sometimes starts to look and feel like he is being selfish by going after what he deems to be right. He doesn’t realize it though, not until he is hit over the head with it and suffers a concussion.

As Halloween rolls around the corner, having an absent boyfriend grows into a problem you can no longer ignore. And you don’t want to, either.

Karen decided to throw a party, and she sent out invites to her closest friends months ago to make sure everyone could somehow fit it into their schedules. She has invited everyone she knows and encouraged those to bring their friends as plus ones. Costumes are mandatory.

Halloween used to be your favorite holiday, but this time, you aren’t even sure if you can make it to the party without getting pitiful glances because your plus one has to be busy—the plus one that Karen also invited separately because he is her colleague and friend. 

Matt doesn’t seem to care much about Halloween, especially not this party. Even though it’s not only important to Karen but to you, he has expressed how much he doesn’t want to go because he can’t neglect his Daredevil duties for one night. Not right now. 

When you reminded him a few weeks ago, he told you that the 31st of October is boring and overrated, kissed you, and then you both went to bed. 

You decided that night that it was time to use a different set of weapons. If Matt knew, he would go crazy, but that is what you aim for. You want him to go crazy. Crazy for you. 

The first step of your plan sounds easier than it is: convince him to come with you.

“You going to Karen’s party?” he asks you one evening before going out into the night.

You answer curtly, “Yeah.”

“Got a costume?”

“You know I do.”

His lips curl into a smirk. “Are you going to let me feel it? Or do you want me to guess?” 

“I want you to come with me.” You help zip his Daredevil suit back up. “I want you to put the mask down and come with me. Karen invited the both of us,” you say. “She’s gonna be asking questions.”

If it’s the disappointed cadence of your voice or the fact that he’s curious about what you’re going to wear, you’re not sure, but when he suddenly agrees, you’re taken aback. “I’ll join you guys later,” he murmurs. “Right now–“

Your excitement falls flat again. “The city needs you. Yeah, I know.” 

You’re starting to grow sick and tired of that sentence. He doesn’t deserve this. He is trying his best, and you act like a needy child. You’re angry while he is saving lives and making sure the streets are a little safer. But you stood by for weeks without complaining once that you felt a bit neglected. You always show him unwavering support. Even now, you want nothing more than for him to do what he needs to do, but you do so with a bitter aftertaste. And a lot of misplaced jealousy. 

Not having him close is torture. You need him. Even dressed in protective red leather, he looks too hot to handle, and that makes you crave him even more.

You brush off the ache in your core and focus on getting him dressed for the night. You don’t want him to get hurt.

“You going to wear the costume?” you ask.  

He cocks an eyebrow. “You mean the sweater that says ‘I’m not Daredevil?’”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, it’s a joke only the four of us will understand. It’s perfect!”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he says, his unfocused eyes darting up toward the ceiling. “I just… How about I just put a suit on and say I’m James Bond?”

“Please?” You wrap your arms around his neck. 

He sighs warily in response. “Will you tell me what your costume is?”

“No,” you answer plainly.

That’s the second part of your plan; wear the most revealing costume you could wear, and drive him crazy when he does appear at the party and hears you mingling. When he smells your bare skin, and when he realizes that you’re getting all the attention he should be giving you. 

“Please,” he copies your pleading tone, lips pursed into a frustrated pout. The conflict in his eyes is not yet covered by the red mask. 

He’s contemplating. For a moment, he considers staying. He wants to spend time with you; he wants to go to the party and have fun. You love Halloween and he would do anything to make you happy, but he can’t. The city is busier than usual. Louder. More intense. His ears can’t seem to catch a break. He tries to focus on you, to tune out the noise, but he fails miserably every damn time.

He doesn’t sleep, not much, and he barely eats anymore because he drowns himself in work so deeply that he forgets his basic needs. He just needs it all to stop. He has to go out to get some semblance of relief—to fight, to get his fists bloody, and come home exhausted enough to get a few hours of shut-eye before the cycle inevitably repeats itself.

It has been like this for weeks now. He is always overstimulated, always overworked; he can’t even kiss you sometimes because the thought alone burns his skin. It hurts that much.

He isn’t going to stop. You know that. You understand, but even the devil’s advocate grows tired sometimes. 

You’re so tired of the distance. You are so tired of him not talking to you when something is bothering him, and you’re tired of having to pretend it doesn’t bother you. 

Still, neither of you want to start the conversation. It’s a series of petty attempts to gain attention, a constant tiptoeing around each other until one of you caves. 

You peck his lips. “You come to the party, you find out,” you say. “You don’t, I guess I’m showing all of this ass for nothing.”

His ears perk up. “You’re what?” 

“Nothing,” you wave him off. 

“No, what did you just say?”

“I said you should come to the party.”

“After that. Is it—I swear to God if you’re wearing something short…”

“Then what? You gonna drag me home and spank me?” You scoff, trying your best to hide the fact that this is exactly what you want him to do.

The silk of your dressing gown hits the floor. It’s time to play even dirtier than before. Your plan is made to be adaptable, after all.

Matt stops breathing. “This isn’t fair,” he growls.

You smirk. “You should go.”

“You’re torturing me, you know that?”

“You decided to go out tonight,” you counter.

“Because I have to.”

“Do you?”

He curses under his breath, “Fuck. Okay, whatever game you’re playing, sweetheart, I need you to stop.”

You’re nowhere near satisfied. In all of your naked glory, you take a step forward. “Or what?” 

“Or,” he says, and his voice lowers barely above a dangerous whisper, “I’ll stuff your cunt with my fingers until you’re begging me to come. And then, just when you’re about to, I’ll pull away and leave you to take care of it yourself because I know you won’t be able to come without my help. That’s what I’m gonna do if you keep teasing me like that.”

Your jaw drops. You’ve got him right there, with his teeth buried in the hook, but he knows that if he lets the trap fall shut, you win. This isn’t just a desperate attempt at getting his attention anymore—you’ve got that now. This is turning into a game. 

Matt smirks, hearing the uptick of your heartbeat. He thinks he’s so smart. Reaching out, he cups your bare pussy with his rough palm, eliciting a sweet moan out of your mouth that shoots right to his cock. “Already so fucking wet for me,” he purrs. 

His touch feels like electroshocks shooting right into your bloodstream. It has been way too long, and you’re already burning for him before you can even fight back.

You want to beg him to keep going, but as quickly as he has put his hands on you, he retreats again. 

Matt marvels at the feeling of your slick between his thick fingers. He takes a whiff. Your arousal is so prominent in the air that his face contorts in agony. And then, he slides the digit into his mouth. Your distinctive taste explodes on his taste buds, and he moans, “Delicious.”

The show he’s giving you is utterly erotic, and it takes everything in you not to drop to your knees and take his aching cock out of his suit. 

Pressing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, he whispers, “I’ll see you later.” 

He’s gone before you can protest.

He’s not the only one who has tricks up his sleeves though, and you’re more than ready to seek your revenge later tonight and finally get what you so deeply crave from him. He has to let go eventually, and he has to pay attention to you for longer than five minutes. You both need it.

Dressed in your costume and with a bottle of liquor, you make your way to Karen’s apartment. You’re determined to make this night last. Well, at least long enough for Matt to arrive, and then it’s showtime. 

Your friend greets you with a welcoming hug. Her small living space is already crowded, and you make your way through toward the table with the drinks. You can feel several eyes on you. Without your coat on, the costume you’re wearing leaves little to the imagination. You wonder if Matt can smell you across the city, wherever he may be right now. Maybe he does, and maybe he can tell what the thought of him is doing to you. Maybe he can tell that this is exciting you and he will cut his patrol short tonight. But you know he isn’t paying attention to you. He only does so when he fears that you’re in danger.

“And who are you supposed to be?” a low voice asks beside you.

You turn to find a tall guy dressed as a werewolf approaching the punchbowl to your right. 

“The tag said ‘slutty witch’,” you answer. “But I find the term a bit… problematic, so I’m a witch who likes to wear very short clothes on very cold days.”

He chuckles. Underneath his makeup and the fake fur, you can’t make out his features, but it’s not like you care anyway. “Well,” he says, “you’re a very beautiful witch.”

Oh, now he’s flirting with you. 

Your plan for tonight includes mingling to draw attention to you and make Matt jealous when he gets here, not flirting with strangers. You would never do that to Matt. You also don’t feel the need to flirt with anyone who isn’t your boyfriend, even though the attention does make you blush for a moment— mostly out of discomfort. 

You’re not interested in this man. Werewolves are only your type when they’re fictional, and even then you will always prefer your devil over hairy mythological creatures. 

You take a sip of your drink. “I accept the compliment,” you say. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the man answers. He takes another step toward you. “Are you here alone?”

You take a step back. “Yes, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Playing hardball, huh?”

“No, actually, I’m just not interested.” 

“Nah, I don’t believe that. Is it another guy? It’s a guy, right? It has to be a guy.”

You glare at him. “Why? Because you’re so hot and irresistible and can’t take no for an answer?” Your voice drips with sarcasm. 

He leans toward you, and he’s getting dangerously close to your personal space. “You think I’m hot. You said it,” he says. 

Thankfully, he turns around to pour himself a cup of punch before touching you against your will. You wouldn’t hesitate to snap his neck like a twig. 

Your heart is pounding as the adrenaline mixes with fury in your veins. You forget about Matt and the fact that you dressed like this for him. He will appreciate it, and his opinion matters most to you. You just hope that this guy will leave it be so you can join your friends on the other side of the room.

“No offense, dude,” you tighten your grip around your cup, “but I think I’d rather be anywhere but here.”

Karen and Foggy are mingling somewhere, and you know that you’re definitely safe with them. 

The werewolf smirks. “Can I come?” 

Before you can tell him off, the very thing you thought wouldn’t happen happens. 

“I believe the lady said she’s not interested,” Matt pipes up behind you.

So he was listening to you from across the city. His locked jaw is an indication that he is fuming inside. More than fuming. He’s about to explode.

Oh fuck. 

He appears next to you, and one look at him makes you beam. He is wearing the red sweater with the big, white “I’m Not Daredevil” written on it. He even put on the antlers. 

The werewolf takes a good look at him when he wraps his arm around your waist, and he finally retreats. “She’s all yours,” he says. 

“Yeah, she is,” says Matt. You can’t see his eyes, but the rest of his face is expressive enough to give the other man a faint idea of what he is capable of. As innocent as he may look, he isn’t.

There’s a certain dominance he carries that could make any grown human being weak in their knees. You are the only one who would voluntarily do so and thank him, and beg him for more. 

Once the werewolf has disappeared, Matt turns you toward him. His feral demeanor slips for just a moment. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. He cradles your face in his hand, his thumb brushing your cheekbone, and you once again find yourself on fire.

For you, he put the costume on. For you, he came. And everything you have been struggling with these past weeks while he was absent feels so stupid now because he has been trying from the start, you just didn’t want to see it because you were so upset and needy. 

You nod weakly, leaning into his touch. “He was just…weird,” you murmur. Reaching out, you touch his sweater. “You’re wearing the costume.”

Matt shows the faintest hint of a smile before it completely fades from his face again.

“Yeah,” his answer is breathless. “But what the fuck are you wearing?” His hand slips from your waist to your exposed thighs with a low growl. A shiver ripples through him.

“A costume.”

He brushes over your ass, and there is hardly anything there to cover the fishnets you’re wearing. If he grips a little tighter, he will hold your flesh in his hands. Just a little lower and he will touch your wet cunt. Your scent is overwhelming, and the feeling of your skin in the crowded room makes all the lights in his brain go dark as they burst. He’s already so hard in his jeans. 

“Was this your plan all along?” he asks. His grip on your cheek tightens, and the other hand grabs your ass. “Get me to come with you just to hear your thighs brush against each other? To smell how wet you are with barely any fabric covering your pussy? Did you want me to bend you over in front of everyone just so I’ll touch you? Are you that desperate?”

You’re in trouble. Big, big trouble—and it’s exactly what you wanted. To be fair, it stands in a slightly different light now, but it’s Halloween. Things always go differently than planned on Halloween.

You swallow thickly, fluttering your lashes at him as innocently as you can. “You’ve been so busy,” you confess, “and I just missed you. I missed you so much, baby. I had to do something to get your attention.”

He bares his teeth. Those gorgeous teeth behind those gorgeously plump lips. You can only imagine them on yours. You can only imagine what it will feel like to have him between your thighs now, wildly licking at your slick folds while thrusting his skilled fingers in and out of your cunt. God, you want that. You need it. The thought alone is enough to make your thighs clench, and you cross them. You’re positively dripping. 

“Listen to me,” he demands, and his grip moves to your chin. “You’re going to finish that drink, alright? You’re gonna drink up, you’re gonna say goodbye to Foggy and Karen, and then we’re going to get out of here so I can fuck that feeling of inadequacy right out of that beautiful head of yours. Are we clear?”

You stare into your reflection in his glasses. The blood is rushing in your cheeks. You don’t trust your voice; all you can do is nod.

“Good girl.” His hand drops from your face. 

You’re shaking. Your knees are weak, and your legs feel like jelly. You breathe and you live solely for him. He has a power over you that is almost embarrassing to admit to. 

When you try to down the rest of your punch in one gulp, Matt stops you. By slowing you down, he’s teasing you. You suppose that you deserve it, but you’re not sure how much longer you can wait. 

It takes an agonizing while for you to finish your drink, say goodbye to your friends, and call a cab. Matt keeps his hands to himself. It’s so unlike him, but it gives you an idea of what’s to come, and the anticipation is killing you.

The door to his apartment hasn’t even fully shut behind you when he flips you around and pushes you against the wall, chest first. He does it with such force that your palms burn upon landing. You gasp.

“You’ve been teasing me all night,” he rasps into your ear. “I put this costume on for you. To be nice. If I’d known you would make it your mission to make my dick hard in front of dozens of people, I would have fucked you before going out tonight.”

You know that he wouldn’t have, but the thought still sends shivers down your spine. Not a single coherent thought is left in your mind.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you break off into a moan.

Your tights are torn in two by his eager hands, and you moan when he pulls you back against his hard cock. You can feel his straining against your pants against your now bare skin. You want to reach out and touch him, but he won’t let you. 

And then, his palm lands flat on your bare ass cheek. He doesn’t even bother to take the rest of the costume off.

“You didn’t mean to?” he asks. “Are you sure about that?” 

You buck your hips. His dark chuckle grazes your ear. 

“Answer me, sweetheart.”

“I meant to,” you cry out when his hand comes back down on your red ass cheek. It stings, but the pain shoots straight to your middle where it settles in your needy core. “And I don’t regret it.”

“That’s better.” 

“Please.” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but this aching emptiness is driving you crazy. You need his cock, and it’s becoming pathetically obvious.

Matt gives your backside another slap before pressing you further against the wall. “Don’t ever doubt that you’re the most important thing in the world to me,” he says. “But slutty witch? You know what that does to me?”

You can’t help but smirk. “Yeah.”

He tears the underwear under your skirt in two. 

“If you want to be a slutty witch,” he presses his lips to your ear, “then act like it.”

Without a warning, without preparation, he thrusts into you. Your lips part in a lustful moan. 

Matt is relentless. One arm wraps around you, the other around your throat. He thrusts his hips upward, filling you to the brim with his cock. He pulls out just enough to move past your G-spot and directs the tip of his cock toward that spongy spot that makes you see stars. 

His name tumbles from your lips like a mantra. Matt, Matt, Matt… 

Your chest deflates. The corset of your costume is so tight, you can’t breathe. Your nipples ache underneath the fabric. They want to be free. They want to be touched. 

“Matt,” you beg. 

He doesn’t hesitate to open the ties at the front, pulling you free from the metal cage. 

The air gets knocked out of your lungs. He tightens his grip, locking the oxygen in your windpipe. Skin slaps against skin, moans fill the air scented with the stench of sex and every time his cock penetrates your tight walls, he pushes you further to the edge of the precipice.

From around your waist, he moves his arm down and his hand to your pussy. He catches your clit with precision. His thrusts speed up. They hit deeper and harder, and your eyes roll back into your head.

Matt, Matt, Matt…

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he grunts. “Such a good little slutty witch for me, sweetheart. Push back against me.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You move your hips back to meet his thrusts. He lets out a moan of his own, digging his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder.

“That’s it.” He rubs in rapid circles over your clit. Your body is begging for a release.

The wall feels cold against your heated forehead. His fingers tighten around your throat again, causing you to clench around his cock. He twitches. You can feel every desperate drag of him inside of you, and he only keeps on giving you more, and more, and…

Your hand finds his against against the wall. The warning of your impending orgasm gets lost, but he doesn’t need verbal confirmation for something that he can feel every time he thrusts into the walls of your cunt that are hugging him so tightly, he is holding on by a thread. 

As if to distract himself, Matt lands another harsh slap against your bottom. “Who do you belong to?” he asks, feeling the flesh jiggle under his touch. 

You moan. “You, Matthew. Only you!”

Your screams of pleasure are music to his ears. He repeats the motion of his hand. You will have imprints on your skin tomorrow, and he will proudly feel them before you have to go to work. Leaving his mark on you is an exciting thought.

His balls tighten. He won’t last much longer if you keep squeezing him like that—if those thoughts keep popping into his head, and he barely manages to keep himself from coming right then and there, coming deep inside of you and fucking his cum into you until you#re overflowing. 

The pain from the sloppy spanking—he isn’t capable of seriously hurting you—floods your system and your pussy at the same time, amplifying the lewd noise echoing in his otherwise silent apartment. With the added wetness, the circles he rubs over your clit with his calloused fingers become impossibly faster. The sensitive bundle of nerves starts to scream; you can barely take it anymore, but you need his permission to come. In this scene, at least. You must always wait for his permission when he punishes you like this. 

You have a safe word for a reason, but you’re too blissed out to care. You love what he’s doing to you. You love how it feels, and you love how well the little pain he introduces you to every time mixes with the pleasure that consumes you whole. 

He buries his nose in your neck. You smell of sweat, salt, and his shampoo. It makes you feel better, you told him. To him, it’s a sensory dream. You complete him, and your scent complements him in ways he doesn’t fully understand. All Matt knows is that it makes him feel good, and not just because he gets a little possessive sometimes. It’s a warmth that runs deeper than the words of the English language could describe.

Again, he flicks your clit. “I want you to come,” he finally says the five words you have been waiting for. “I want you to come all over my cock, and I want you to scream my name so this entire city knows who’s taking care of you.”

Your pussy clenches around him again, and with a shout, you come undone. Your legs shake as the coil in your lower stomach snaps, tearing down your walls. You spasm, and you cry out his name. No feeling could ever be as powerful as the orgasms that Matt manages to give you. They are like tsunamis, and they know no mercy. They are a force of nature that no one can control. You know it will happen, but you never know the force of it until it happens. And every time it does, you feel like you’re floating in a world far from home where only he, his godly hands, and his cock exist. 

Matt fills you with his cum after a few more sloppy thrusts. He comes hard, and it doesn’t seem to stop for quite a while. He’s leaking onto your thighs at this point, but the stickiness is only another reminder of him, and it makes you feel warm inside. 

With your breathing slowed to a more acceptable pace, you allow yourself to lean back against him. “Wow,” you mumble. 

He catches some of his cum from the inside of your thigh. “Yeah,” he says. “Wow.”

You greedily open your mouth. The salty essence of him spreads over your tongue. He’s the only man whose taste you would carry with you proudly for days. 

The kiss Matt delivers to your cheek is sweet. 

“Did you like my—” 

He cuts you off, “Yeah. Too much.”

“But it did work,” you say. 

“You could’ve just talked to me.” 

You look over your shoulder, you notice that he’s still wearing his costume, minus the glasses. His hazel eyes are full of hurt. Shame. Guilt.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t think you’d listen.”

“I always listen,” he says. “Even when you think I don’t.”

You whimper at the loss of his cock when he pulls out. Matt doesn’t turn you around right away, and for a split second, you fear that this will turn into an argument. 

Instead, he sweeps you up into his arms.

“Don’t disappear on me again,” the plea is whispered directly into his ear.

His hold on you tightens, carrying you toward your shared bedroom. “I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

“I love you.” The sincerity in his voice lights the candle in your soul that threatened to go out. 

You answer without missing a beat, “I love you too.”

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

Matt throws you down on the mattress. “Keep the costume.”

Halloween might just become his favorite holiday, after all. 

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama

[steviewashere]

Better Together

Rating: General CW: None for this one! Tags: Post-Canon, Fluff, Comfort No Hurt, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Baking, Steve Harrington Likes to Bake, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Sharing Food, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Soft Steve Harrington, Soft Eddie Munson

For @steddie-week | July 7th Prompt: Free Space | WC: 870

Hehe, I want to say that I chose the word "heart" as my inspiration, but I saw a recipe for heart shaped thumbprint cookies on Pinterest and this is what came to mind <3

Title from "Better Together" by Jack Johnson

🍪—————🍪 Steve makes thumbprint cookies for every holiday he can think to. Halloween gets some with black currant jam, Independence Day gets blueberry, Christmas has cranberry, orange marmalade for Thanksgiving. So on and so forth. He learned to bake because of his nana, may she rest, and he wants to continue to share her love with the world.

So, he expands from holidays. He makes them for first days of school. When a neighbor of his breaks their leg. Bakes them for a little girl around the block, tells her she can sell them with her lemonade—he even buys a little paper cup; it’s not the greatest lemonade, too much water, but he still smacks his lips and says it’s the best cup in the world. He bakes them for Robin when she can’t sleep from nightmares; for the party when it comes to D&D campaigns; for himself when it’s the middle of the night and he misses what home used to be like—loud and full and warm.

And he makes them, too, when he starts dating Eddie sometime after Vecna. Eddie’s had some cookies; been there in the kitchen, the dining room, outside even. Been there to see if they’re “poisoned.” Shown up, without notice, holding a jar of homemade raspberry jelly from his kitchen, claiming it to be his mama’s recipe.

Over time, he realizes he wants to share this recipe of his with Eddie, too. Though, Eddie’s kind of a mess in the kitchen—he’s not a terrible cook, not at all, but he’s very…all over the place. Sometimes dishes will sit for too long in the sink, or he won’t set a timer within the first two minutes, or he’ll accidentally chop too much of an herb. He gets distracted and it’s honestly endearing, but Steve doesn’t trust him to bake, not completely.

While he’s making cookies for them for Valentine’s Day, the idea smacks him right in the face. He’s got the dough all rolled into balls, placed on sprayed parchment paper, oven preheated. Ready to go.

He wipes his hands on a nearby dish rag. Calls from the kitchen, “Eddie?” And he’s there beside Steve within the blink of an eye; his eyes darting between the tray of cookies and Steve himself, probably two seconds away from attempting to eat raw cookie dough—again. “Wanna help me with something?” Steve asks finally.

“Uh, sure, Stevie. You need me to grab an ingredient from the pantry? Make sure no flies get on the dough?”

Steve shakes his head. Knows that if he leaves him alone with the tray, the cookies won’t even have the chance to be baked. So, he looks on and smiles at Eddie fondly for: being so thoughtful and also because there’s a stray strand of hair curling from his hairline. His hair is up and out of his face, there are indents around his eyes from wearing his magnifying goggles, little splotches of mini-figure paint on his fingers. It’s sweet. Domestic, if he stops to think about it.

He leans into that. Swipes away that strand of hair. Scoops up Eddie’s hands. The warmth and weight welcoming in his own palms.

“Wash up with me and then help me thumbprint the cookies?”

Instead of words, Eddie drifts over to the sink. They wash their hands one after the other. Eddie scrubs furiously at his skin, making sure that every last little flake of paint swirls down the drain, and then he sidles up to Steve. Looks cowed at the still raw dough.

“M’kay,” Steve murmurs, “so for Valentine’s Day, I do things a little different.” He grabs Eddie’s left hand, from where it’s resting limp on the countertop, and hovers it over the baking sheet. Then, he takes his right hand and does the same, just underneath Eddie’s. Presses that thumb into the top of one cookie. “You see how my thumbprint is sort of sideways?”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums. “Yeah, I see that.” Steve quickly glances up, another surge of fondness working through him. Eddie’s face is one of pure concentration: eyebrows furrowed, eyes squinted, tongue poking from between his lips. 

Steve makes himself look back at the cookies before he does something stupid like propose.

He carefully lowers Eddie’s hand until he can press his thumb on the other side of the cookie. When he draws the hand away, he comments, “There. Now, our thumbs are making a heart on the cookie.” Tilts the baking pan a little so that it’s angled towards Eddie. “See? I do that to all of my Valentine’s Day cookies. Except, now I have somebody to do it with.”

Eddie looks up to him. Eyes crinkled in the corners and a soft, adoring smile on his face. “You do your half and then I’ll chase after?”

He smiles back, teeth and all. “I’d love that, Eds. Then, when we’re done, you can pick the jam we use.”

At the end of the day, Steve made two dozen thumbprint cookies. Each of them filled with Eddie’s homemade raspberry jam. Most importantly, though, each of them are—

“Shaped with our love,” Eddie points out.

And that sounds like the sweetest treat of them all.

🍪—————🍪

[im-only-here-for-the-fandom]

Baby Lost, Baby Found

so first time posting on tumblr, i got inspired by the idea of danny phantom being jason todds father from the story apartment 31c by @faeriekit

its going to be a bit long so,

I headcanon that ghosts can asexually reproduce but it takes some time to make sure that the baby is stable than if there was two ectoplasmic donors so its not commonly done or well known . so when vlad tries to clone danny he doesn’t know that he’s actually growing a lab baby and in the test tube while its forming the baby splits, becoming two babies, one more ghostly (ellie) the other more human ( jason ).

Danny feeling a strange tug at his core urging him to find something, something very important to him and he has to find no matter what, searches for weeks before he finds ellie and jason before vlad ages them up and he falls in love instantly. he looks at his beautiful daughter and son, cradles them carefully and takes them home olny telling jazz, sam, and tucker about their true origins, his parents lecture him about ‘how irresponsible he was for bringing two children into the word’ and ‘how hard it is to raise them’ and ‘how much personal time you have to give up to take care of them’ despite them not noticing that he had disappeared for weeks or that they spent all day in thier lab only coming out for food and bathroom breaks or to put a sample in the fridge because the basement fridge was full {they still haven’t noticed he’s died} . the babyies needed a steady intake of his ectoplasm or pure ectoplasm to stabilize so took them to school with him, not trusting his parents inventions to not accidentally shoot at his kids but thankfully the ghost have calmed down with their attacks ever since he got the kids only going after him after school and during holidays and toning down thier destructive acts.

During the summer holiday vlad invites the fenton family to a cruise ship no doubt trying to enact one of his stupid schemes with jazz unfortunately (or fortunately) unable to join because she was joining a charity for helping less fortunate kids as a volunteer so that she could add it to her resume also because she’s just a really good person and wants to help defintley not to get out of the holidy cruise with val of course not . During one of the cruses resocking pit stops he has to change ellie’s diaper because he’s a goid dad, so he leaves jason with his parents reluctantly after the insisted that he would be perfectly safe with them, jason having a dormant core barley exhibits any ghostly traits while ellie having an active core regularly floats, so his parents were less liely to think jason was a ghost tgan ellie, not knowing that as soon as he left the box ghost came to cause mischief, his parents immediately entering ghost hunter mode forgetting about baby jason.

Enter Sheila also on the cruise running a fake pregnancy scam on multiple people, getting desprate when few men fall for it but needing more proof from her, she decides to steal baby jason who was conveniently unattended to in the chaos happening and leaves before the cruise before the ship departs. She successfully registers the baby as hers saying that she gave birth to him on a cruise thats why she has no previous medical records and naming him jason based on the custom onsie he’s wearing that had in bold Baby Jason written on the chest and starts her scam once again. This time she’s more successful in her scam getting large amounts of money from different men, her having blue eyes, the baby having blue eyes, most people having black hair made it much easier, but now the baby was getting older and its harder to scam people with a larger baby so she doesn’t want him anymore so she hands him over to the only man stupid enough to believe that was truly his baby, Willis Todd, she dumps him in gotham and leaves.

Back at the cruise ship danny finishes changing ellie only to come out to the aftermath of the box ghost and search’s for his parents so that he could get his son back only to discover that his parents have once again neglected another child, their grandchild, in favor of their ghost hunting ways. danny feels devestated his baby boy is gone and the ship had already sailed a long way out from their last stop, he should have never trusted his parents, he didn’t care that they neglected him, but thier neglect now cost him his son. he leaves ellie with jazz once they reach home and follows the tugging in his core once again trying to locate his son, but this time it’s harder it took him weeks to find his kids the first time and that was when they were stationary, now sheila keeps moving meaning the direction of the tugging keeps changing and it throws him off the right track, until she reaches gotham and the tugging suddenly STOPS, danny is floating in the middle of nowhere when his connection with his baby just disappears without a warning. and danny is just terrified, he doesn’t know what has happened to his baby.

Jason is in gotham now, which is a ectoplasm deadzone, despite it being heavily covered in death energy. any time ectoplasm is formed its immediately sucked away by those who have recently died, barely being able to take enough to pass to the afterlife, and with the amount dieing in gotham the amount of ectoplasm is barely able to sustain jasons baby core. he has stronger senses and a better immune system from his ghost half but other than sharper canine teeth he doesn’t develop other ghostly traits over the years growing up, if he able to seemingly disappear in the shadows and move as silent as a ghost, it’s attributed to gotham strangeness.

jason is now 15 and dies waking up briefly in ghost zone only for the ectoplasm to kick start his core and kicks him back into his body six months after his death, back in to gotham the ectoplasm deadzone now unable to support his active core leaving him catatonic for talia to find and dunk in the lazarus pit. he spends three years in with the league of assassins before returning to gotham mad with pit rage and the need for revenge against the joker.

danny, now the ghost king , has never given up searching for his missing, despite not being able to locate him his bond reassuring him his son was alive, having moved out with his daughter and sister when she turned eighteen and cut off all communication with his parents. he’s in a meeting in the ghost zone when he feels his bond with his son flare up strongly only for it to disappear from the ghost zone not a minute later, leaveing him no time to search for him, but the bond is there, if barely, but it disappears again when jason is dumped in the lazurus pit, his signature corrupted from how it was when he was young. danny’s core aches from the sadness he’s feeling, the bond he has with his son is seemingly gone, he doesn’t know what to do now.

A year passes and jason is now nineteen a year after he came back to gotham, having reconciled with his family. but now the justice league is facing a world ending supernatural threat and they need someone or something powerful enough to face it, so who else other than the benevolent and kind ghost king.

constantine has the main league members do the ritual with him batman, superman, wonder woman, flash, green lantern, because the requires a lot of power. so they chant his titles, The Benevolent and Kind, The Great One, The Gate and The Keeper, The Guiding Star, The High King Of Infinite Realms, and a portal starts forming and slowly danny emerges in full royal garb, white hair swaying whisply in an invisible breeze, eyes a glowing green galaxy, crown and ring on full display. Danny opens his mouth to speak only to close it when he feels a weak, sputtering bond from someone standing at the back of the room, he cranes his head searching for the orogin of this bond and spots a young man, then it clicks, thats his son, that’s jason. he can’t believe his eyes, he finally found his baby, after nineteen years, he sinks to the floor and sobs.

Jason had always felt a strange feeling if longing that never seemed to go away, at first he thought it was from a lack of care from his parents, but it didn’t seem right to him, so after he bacame robin, and found out about sheil he thought that was where the feeling of longing was coming from, but then she betrayed him and he died at the hands of the joker. and in that one minute in the realm of the dead everything felt right only to wake up in his own grave and then get dumped in the pit. After getting dumped in the pit the longing was gone, and in its place was rage, like he had lost something very important to him and this made him unbelievable angry, so he went to gotham to exact revenge, and ended up reconciling with his family.

a year later he’s stading at the back the room as the justice league summons the ghost king, and as the king emerges the feeling of longing that was gone since his death starts sputtering to life, he looks at the floating man and the longing gets stronger, they lock eyes and the man shudders and sinks to the floor sobbing, he wants nothing more that to run to him and hug him, hold him and never let go, he has never felt such intense emotions towards someone in his life.

As he slowly walks towards the ritual, danny lifts his and revrently utters his name “Jason”

[forgeofthenine]

Is it the holiday season, or are you just a genius cause my yearning heart is being well fed by your tiefling headcanons. I hope this ask inspires :)

I’d go feral for some good pining headcanons; what are they like in the gray space between flirting and relationship? Especially if there’s mutual understanding that this might not be the best time (i.e. there may or may not be a mindflayer invasion in progress) and so they hold off on initiating anything, but have to watch as their crush dives headlong into danger? I love imagining ill-timed interruptions punctuated by longing looks.

Alternatively, how good are our darling tiefling bachelors at dancing? Would they learn a jig or two if their SO loved dancing?

Here's a lil' something something for you about pining, Anon. I didn't decide to write a full set of dance headcanons (despite it being on my to do list right from when I started the blog) but I am going to post something similar 👀

What the bachelors are like while pining for you

Dammon

This man pines so hard

He's touch starved to hell, quite literally, but has no clue about it

Dammon was sure he was fine right up until he met you and was hit with the realisation that he wanted more

The way he shows his affection is also anything but subtle, expect to know right away

It's never the type of affection that makes you feel guilty if you don't return it or makes you feel like you feel pressured

He's very easy going and good at reading people, he slowly increases how much affection he gives you until you both find a comfortable balance

Soon you'll find all your weapons and armour is repaired or replaced to the highest quality

Dammon is overjoyed if you return the same affection, even if you both know dating is off the cards for now

Bring this man some home cooking and he'll want to marry you right then and there

It's a grey area you both find yourself in for quite some time, to the point you both often get asked if you're together

The way he blushes when people ask is absolutely adorable, even more so when he hesitates to correct them

Towards the end you both basically already live together, both slowly easing into a romantic relationship without realising it

Dammon is more than happy once the ilithids are dealt with to make things official, finally not needing to correct people anymore

Zevlor

This man is the king of pining, absolute reigning champion

He knew he was in deep right from the moment he first saw you

It's something he keeps under wraps very well, to the point that you probably won't realise for a while

He tends to sneak peaks at you when you aren't looking, or he comes up with mostly reasonable excuses to come and speak with you

If you call him out on either thing then he'll heavily deny doing any of it, despite the blush on his face giving him away

Even if there wasn't an ilithid invasion happening Zevlor would still be cautiously optimistic about ever having a relationship with you

He's wary of a potential age gap or coming across too strong and scaring you away

A part of him also reminds him that you'd likely want a suitor your own age

The best way to quell those worries is to simply return his advances with some of your own

It could be anything, so long as he thinks you're interested he'll keep up his very subtle flirting

Soon, the two of you are already regularly having meals with each other and finding ways to spend hours together

Zevlor is absolutely already thinking of the life he'll have with you after this

Rolan

Rolan is a dick at first, he honestly is so out of touch with his own feelings that he doesn't realise he's into you

He's completely oblivious to anything that isn't directly spelled out for him, including how much he actually enjoys your company

It takes Cal and Lia teasing him relentlessly before he finally comes to terms with it

Once he does it hits him like a brick to the face

And after that, it's like a switch flips

He can barely speak to you now without second-guessing himself or tripping over words

It's enough to make you wonder what's going on until the siblings start teasing you both, much to Rolans embarrassment

He's always quick to shoo them away and apologise but his feelings are already clear

You're both smart people, it's easy to know now isn't the time to start a romantic relationship, but it's harder to listen to reason when your feelings get involved

After weeks of you both tiptoeing around each other, feelings clearly returned, he finally has enough

Rolans the fastest to take action on his pining, impatient and hating the uncertainty

You'll find yourself in Ramaziths Tower and kissing the tiefling that runs it in no time

Rolan is quick to pull you into him, kissing you passionately before making you promise you'll stay safe

[writingonleaves]

how can you look so peaceful when you know i'm gonna leave - joseph woll

pairing: joseph woll x original female character

warnings: swearing, fluff central, talks of marriage, barely proofread

inspired by + title: "staying" by lizzy mcalpine

word count: 2.1k

author's note: a short love letter to long distance relationships, which, while brutal, are beautiful in its own way. a love so soft that its meaning transcends distance ... it's possible folks! i've lived it! wanted to put something quick out to get back into my writer brain again. i hope you all enjoy this one <3

Goodbyes are par for the course for Evangeline Patel and Joseph Woll. 

Their first real one was when they weren’t even dating yet. Something more than friends. Something just below commitment. It was after their sophomore year of Boston College, when Joseph went back home to St. Louis and Evie went back home to New York. Evie hadn’t wanted to let go as Joseph lingered by the door, having helped her pack stuff into her car. 

They were dating a year later during the second real goodbye, when Joseph’s BC season ended and he went to Toronto. But that time they had plans of visiting each other’s hometowns in the summer and the goodbyes felt more like promises and not finalities. 

When two collegiate hockey players date each other, they get more comfortable being apart than together with opposing practice and game schedules. But everyone knew, even at the start, that Evie and Joseph wouldn’t ever be driven apart by distance. 

And that stayed true through every ‘goodbye’ and ‘see you soon,’ whether literal or figurative. Through when shoulder surgery sidelined Evie and her dreams to go professional. Through when Joseph signed his deal with Toronto and Evie stayed at BC. Through when Evie’s post-grad journey took her back home to New York. 

They’ve passed every test thrown at them, every obstacle tossed in their way. As heartbreaking as it sounds, goodbyes are a part of what makes Evie and Joseph work. 

Because when they finally say hello again, it always feels like the first time they locked eyes, during a meeting during their freshman year when all the student athletes were gathering together.

Tonight, after spending their sixth year anniversary, they’re on the precipice of another goodbye. Joseph has to go back to Toronto for training camp and the Leafs don’t play the Rangers until late January. Evie always spends the holidays with her family, and Joseph has always respected that. 

Four months. They’ve done worse. But the familiar heaviness settles in her stomach as she curls up in bed, reaching out to place a stray hair back where it belongs. He looks at her in a way that makes her feel like nothing and no one can hurt her. 

It’s been that way for six years and she’s so lucky.

He narrows his eyes playfully, tapping his pointer finger gently on her forehead. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

Evie sighs with a wistful smile. “Nothing.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

He leans forward to press a kiss on her forehead. “I know you’re lying. Tell me.”

She relents, “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. That’s what you’re thinking about?”

She shrugs. “Do you ever think about what life would be like if we didn’t have to be apart so much?”

“All the time,” he says. “I probably wouldn’t be as upset coming home after a loss.”

Evie chuckles, but that’s not what she means. “I mean, like, I don’t know. If you had thought about breaking it off when you went to Toronto or when I went to New York or…”

Joseph’s eyebrows furrow. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Shit. “No, no! Not at all. Sorry. I probably should’ve brought that up more gracefully.”

He grins. “That’s okay. You rarely think before you speak. I know that.” He earns a light slap for that. “But to answer your question, no. Not really. Even among all the uncertainties of going to Toronto, you were always the constant. I knew that no matter what changes would come, I’d always want and need you to be in my life.”

She feels her heart rush with emotions. Even after six years, he can still make her feel like a lovesick idiot. “How did you know that early on?”

He rubs her shoulder with his thumb. “You make my brain calm down. Even on our first date, my hands were so sweaty and I didn’t know if you were gonna think dinner was too cheesy but you just made me feel so at peace.”

“It was cheesy,” she points out as he lightly pinches her skin in retaliation, which makes her laugh. “But it was you. So I didn’t care.”

“Talk about cheesy,” he snickers. “But yeah. I never had a doubt. I knew that even though it was very likely we wouldn’t live in the same city, it would be worth it. It was more if you wanted it.”

“What do you mean?”

He swallows. She plays with his fingers, something that always calms him down. “Well, when I first went to Toronto, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to, you know, keep this going. And I would’ve understood. You were gonna be at BC another year and then be who knows where and I could’ve moved around at any moment. Not being able to give you that stability…it’s still something I worry about.”

“I think we’ve made it work this long,” she says playfully. 

“We have, and I wouldn’t change it for anything,” he assures. “And usually, I’m fine. But, you know, on the days I miss you more than usual, the thought creeps into my head.”

She catches his hand that’s been rubbing her shoulder and places a kiss on his palm. “Honey, I appreciate the concern, I really do. But I knew what I was getting to. And I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“I feel very lucky that you are.”

Sap. Evie lays back down on his chest. “That still doesn’t mean this gets easier though.”

“Yeah. I know.”

She glances around the room, stopping at momentos she’s collected throughout the years. The BC flag she has hanging above her door. The puck for the first goal she ever scored for the Eagles on the corner of her desk. A stuffed elephant Joseph won her in an arcade four years ago. A cork board filled with scraps of memories, tickets to concerts, boarding passes and little notes she’s gotten from friends and family. 

Right in the center is a ticket to Joseph’s first game in net for the Leafs. November 13, 2021. She’ll never forget it, getting special permission from her coach to meet the team at New Hampshire the next day for their game so that she could go up to Buffalo to catch the Leafs play the Sabres. 

Her eyes then scan to the bouquet of lilies on her night stand, courtesy of Joseph from when they stopped by a flower shop yesterday. Then to the duvet that he had gifted her for her birthday last year because she needed a new one. 

And then finally, to him. Those blue eyes that always hold so much warmth. The eyes she immediately saw when she woke up from her surgery, a professional hockey career officially out of reach. The eyes she always looks for in a room, whether he’s there or not. 

“Hi,” he says softly.

“Hm?”

“Lost you for a minute.”

“Sorry,” she shakes her head. “Were you saying something?”

“Nah,” he says with a smile, kissing her forehead. “Four months isn’t too bad.”

“Joseph,” she deadpans. “It’s not great either.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “I’m just trying not to be sad about it now because I know it’s inevitable. You think it would get easier after six years.”

“I hope some of the Toronto jobs I applied to get back to me.”

He sighs and she can’t blame him. It’s a conversation they’ve had multiple times. “Me too, Eve. But-”

“Go where the job you want takes you, yeah, I know,” she finishes for him. “But I’m ready for a change. And I miss living in the same city. Or country. Even that’s a start.”

Joseph snorts. “Yeah. That would be nice.” He reaches over to dim the lights. “Well, if anything, I’m glad we get to at least spend anniversaries together.”

She hums. They miss out on a lot in each other’s lives — her birthday which is in March, various holidays, Valentine’s Day — but anniversaries are in the summer. And that can be theirs. 

Sometimes Evie does wonder what life would be like if they weren’t dating. If she hadn’t taken the chance and asked for the shy, cute boy’s number. If she hadn’t realized at a BC men’s hockey game that the goalie in net was so talented that she couldn’t take her eyes away. If she hadn’t said yes to going on the first date. By then she had already known he was on his way to Toronto sooner rather than later. And she still said yes. 

She went to her childhood best friend’s older sister’s wedding a month ago. Her and Joseph have talked about marriage — they’ve been dating for so long it would be strange if they hadn’t — but it wasn’t until Paige and Taylor were saying “I Do” as they put rings on each other’s fingers, Paige’s jumpsuit and Taylor’s dress flowing gracefully with the wind, did Evie look at her own ring finger for a split second and yearn for something for the first time. 

Well, he’s leaving tomorrow. Might as well bring it up now. 

“You know, if we want to get married eventually, we probably should be in the same city.” She holds her breath, waiting for his reaction, fiddling with her necklace. 

(It’s a silver maple leaf charm that Joseph had gotten her right before he left for Toronto. Evie hasn’t taken it off since.)

“You’re my favorite person in the world.” He rushes out, almost like he’s stumbling over his words. But they’re no less genuine, eyes wide and cheeks the slightest bit red. She loves all of him, but she loves him the most like this. When he’s completely vulnerable, no filter and only hers. 

She has to share him with a whole city who lives and breathes hockey. He does a good job of reminding her consistently that even with all that, what’s theirs is theirs and always will be. It’s moments like these when she remembers. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And I also know you very well,” He taps his finger on her forehead. “Just be patient, baby. It’s coming.”

She decides to act dumb, hoping she’s not clamming up. “What’s coming?”

Joseph snorts. “Yeah, nice try.” He takes it a step further, taking her left hand and rubbing her ring finger smoothly. “I knew I wanted to marry you the second your eyes opened after your surgery.”

Evie’s not sure what to be shocked at first. The fact that he immediately picked up on her signals or what he just said. She blinks. Surgery. Her shoulder surgery. Which was-

“That was like, five years ago.”

He shrugs before taking a deep breath, and she knows he’s also thinking back to that time. She didn’t know it at the time, but they’ve talked about it since. Joseph had been downright terrified, sitting in the waiting room for hours while Evie was in the operating room. He had flown to New York specifically to be by her side when she woke up. They hadn’t even been dating for a year and a half at that point, and he still says it was one of the scariest moments of his life. 

“Why then?” She asks. She has to know. 

He smiles softly. “I know it was stupid, and the success rate of that surgery is so high, but I was so, so afraid you wouldn’t wake up or it wouldn’t be successful. Then when you woke up and I saw your eyes, I realized that I don’t think I could go through my life without seeing those eyes. I guess it’s kinda cruel that I don’t literally get to everyday, but you know what I mean.”

“Oh,” she mutters. Because what else can she say? “So you do want to get married.”

A pause, then a bark of laughter. “Of course I want to get married.” She must flinch because Joseph immediately softens. “Sorry, babe. I’m not making fun of you. I just-I thought you knew. I’ve wanted to marry you for a long time. We’re just, you know, we’re young and I knew neither one of us wanted to be married young even though we could’ve been by now.”

Evie bites her lip. “You know that I don't need a ring, right?”

“I know,” he says with a warm smile. “But you’re getting one anyways. Soon. I promise. Can’t let you slip away that easy, eh?”

“First of all, I know you play there, but you’re not Canadian so stop with the ‘eh,’ he snorts before she continues. “Secondly, you kinda have had me for awhile now. Don’t think I could slip away even if I wanted to.”

He laughs before turning serious, placing a soft but poignant kiss on her lips. “I love you. I’ll miss you.”

“I love you too,” Evie says, biting her lip as she wipes a tear from his cheek. “I miss you always.”

(Three months later, Joseph proposes during sunset in Boston, echoing to their very first date when they had dinner and walked by the Charles River during sunset. Five months later, Evie gets a job offer in Toronto.)

~*~*~

tag list: @ru-kru, @bunbunbl0gs (lemme know if you wanna be added!)

[veltana]

All my works are posted on AO3 but I’m in the process of posting the old stuff to tumblr as well.

Mafia AU series Read on AO3 | Read on tumblr 

Buy my heart - Alpha!Bucky series Read on AO3 | Read on tumblr

Sell my soul - Alpha!Lloyd series Read on AO3 | Read on tumblr

One shots

Groupie Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fan!fem!reader Explicit Since joining the Avengers you've been avoiding Bucky Barnes, afraid of what would happen if he ever learned the truth. [AO3] [Tumblr]

Highest bidder Friend!Steve Rogers/Virgin!fem!reader Explicit Tired of being a virgin and out of money you travel to Las Vegas to auction it off. Little do you know your friend Steve Rogers won't let anyone else have you. [AO3] [Tumblr]

I will kill them if they touch you Possessive!Roommate!Bucky Barnes/Fem!reader Explicit Bucky is done with you going out with losers. [AO3] [Tumblr]

Like a shadow CEO!Bucky Barnes/PA!fem!reader Explicit You’re Bucky’s assistant. What happens when he notices you after six months? [AO3] [Tumblr]

Mutual satisfaction Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Avengers!fem!reader Explicit Movie night turns into something you could never have imagined. [AO3] [Tumblr]

Riding into the night Biker!Bucky Barnes/Fem!reader Explicit You meet Bucky at a bar. [AO3] [Tumblr]

Shared Desires Bucky/Fem!reader, Steve/Fem!reader, brief Bucky/Steve Explicit With a sigh, Steve looks at his best friend, his long lost brother, the person he went through hell to get back. If Bucky knew the truth he wouldn't be laughing. [AO3] [Tumblr]

The winter rebound Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!reader Explicit You go with your friend to Mr. Stark's holiday party [AO3] [Tumblr]

Unleashed Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!reader Explicit Bucky becomes exposed to a chemical during a mission and all he needs is you. [AO3] [Tumblr]

Crossovers

Incentive Ari Levinson/Fem!reader + Stucky/Reader Explicit Ari is having a business meeting and you wouldn’t mind being used to sweeten the deal. [AO3] [Tumblr] Gift Ari Levinson/Fem!reader + Stucky/Reader Explicit Ari surprises you for your birthday with a special gift. [AO3] [Tumblr]

Such a bad day Ari Levinson/Fem!reader/Jake Jensen Explicit You're moping because it's raining but Ari and Jake know how to turn that frown into something else. [AO3] [Tumblr]

Drabbles

Bucky and his PA at a gala. Inspired by Sebastian at the Met gala 2024 [AO3] [Tumblr]

Steve comes home after a stressful day Explicit [AO3] [Tumblr]

Girl’s night! [AO3] [Tumblr]

Your favorite babe being dirty Explicit [AO3] [Tumblr]

Steve and condoms Explicit [AO3] [Tumblr]

This Johnny Storm art sparked something in me! Explicit [AO3] [Tumblr]

You’re the one that got away and he sees you at a wedding [AO3] [Tumblr]

Bucky and Steve are your roommates  Explicit [AO3] [Tumblr]

Running from your abusive ex [AO3] [Tumblr]

Choose your own adventure Explicit [AO3] [Tumblr]

Professor!Spencer Reid series

Sunday funday  Professor!Spencer Reid/Student!Reader  Explicit You’re unsatisfied after a disappointing weekend and find your professor on a special kind of dating app. [AO3] [Tumblr]

Relentless Pleasures Professor!Spencer Reid/Student!Reader Explicit Fucking your professor might have been the best and the worst decision of your life. Is it just sex or do both of you want something more? When an unsub makes their way towards your university, you and Spencer are forced to face your feelings for each other a lot sooner than any of you had counted on. [AO3] [Tumblr]

One shots

Carry you to bed BAU!Spencer Reid/Agent!Reader Explicit You’re on loan to the BAU and during your first case you fall asleep in the car.  [AO3] [Tumblr]

If you want to come Spencer Reid/Luke Alvez/best friend!Reader Explicit There has always been something between you and Luke but it has never led to anything. On a rare night off you’re supposed to have dinner and catch up but end up going out with his co-workers. [AO3] [Tumblr]

[bg-brainrot]

Day 5 of winter fluff with Astarion for the BG3 Holiday Challenge!

Prompt: Delicacies

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Premise: You receive a lovely gift of seasonal delicacies from Alfira, a thanks for helping her set up her new school and being her favorite source of musical inspiration. When you realize that Astarion can’t partake, you find an alternative.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Holidays, post-canon, tw: blood

Word count: ~1.1k

Disclaimer: Google told me sugar can take as little as 10 min to enter your bloodstream, so that’s what I’m rolling with.

“What’s this?” As you arrive home, you find a package on your front steps. A small note is tied to it with a delicate purple ribbon. Taking a moment to read the attached note, your face lights up with joy. “Ooo, I need to share this with Astarion!”

You find your vampiric love in front of his favorite spot of the house– the fireplace. Considering how cold it is outside, you’re unsurprised to find him laid before it, like a lounging feline. “Astarion,” you call, checking to see if he’s awake.

He looks up at you hazily, shaking off what seems to be a heat-induced stupor. “Mmm, yes my love? Welcome home.”

“Astarion,” you say again, “Look at what Alfira sent us!”

The man finally sits up, eyes focusing on the package in your hands. “Alfira?” he asks, not fully processing your words yet.

“She sent us this thank you gift,” you say, handing Astarion the box as you move to take off your coat. “You should read her note.”

He pulls the piece of parchment free from the ribbon and reads it aloud, “To my favorite inspirational couple. Thank you for everything, and may the– ugh, she’s too saccharine for my liking.”

“Oh?” you ask, taking a seat next to Astarion on the floor. “I quite liked it. ‘May the ballad of your love continue forevermore.’”

“I may have to ensure that that song she’s writing about us never sees the light of day…” the vampire says in a low tone, though you know the threat has no genuine animosity to it.

You do still give him a good elbow and take the box back from him. “If you’re not going to appreciate that poor, innocent bard’s gift, I will.”

Astarion gives a ‘tsk’, but smiles at you all the same. “Very well, let’s see what she’s sent us.”

With deft fingers, you undo the box’s wrapping, slicing open the ribbon in a single twist. You can feel Astarion’s chuckle as he leans forward to rest his head on your shoulder. “What’s so funny?”

“Just admiring how easily you dispatch your foes, whether they be brain or box,” he answers, and you catch his appreciative smirk out of the corner of your eye.

You give an inelegant snort at his words before tapping his head with your own. “You should see what I can do to vampires.”

"Oh darling, I know full well how easily you dispatch me."

You’re certain he can feel the heat come over your face and neck, but you ignore his words as you open the box in your lap. “Huh,” is the only word that escapes your mouth when you look at its contents.

“Are those chocolates?” Astarion asks, looking down at the box with distaste. In it lay four rows of artisanal chocolates, each a distinct, beautifully tempered delicacy. “She knows I’m a vampire, doesn’t she?"

“Absolutely, she kept asking me for words that rhyme with sanguine,” you say, looking down at the box of sweets in confusion.

Astarion opens his mouth, as if to offer a rhyme, only to close it a second later. “What does rhyme with sanguine?”

“Hells if I know, I’m not a bard,” you answer with a shrug. Astarion grumbles at the sudden movement and leans further into your shoulder with a huff. “Why did she send us something you can’t eat?”

That’s when you spot another note from Alfira, in much more casual lettering, on the inside of the box. ‘I wasn’t sure what I could get for Astarion. I don’t know how his kind work exactly, but I know he calls you his’– the next word is written in a smaller, slightly shakier hand– ‘treat.’ The note continues normally after that. ‘So I hope it’s something you can have together.’

You laugh at how innocent she manages to be, even in writing. “She’s adorable.”

The man next to you takes offense to this, burying his face in your neck now. “Excuse me,” he murmurs into your skin. “You dare.” He places a kiss on your neck. “Say that.” A kiss on your jaw. “With your adorable.” Another kiss on your ear. “Lover right here?”

His pecks leave your skin heated, and you’re tempted to give into his loving attention. However the chocolates look delectable and Alfira’s suggestion is calling to you. “Would that adorable lover listen to me for a moment?”

His lips stop on your shoulder, and he looks at you through his lashes. “You have five seconds.”

It takes you a bit over five seconds, but you explain to Astarion your plan: you taste the chocolate, he tastes your blood. You rinse and repeat until, ideally, you’re both in a sugar-induced coma.

After placing another kiss on your neck, near where he typically bites, the vampire agrees. “Your blood does taste particularly heavenly after a few glasses of wine. I imagine this could be even more… exquisite.” He all but growls the last word, as if he can already taste your sweet blood on his tongue.

You shiver under his breath and grab your first chocolate: a circular truffle, decorated with a pink drizzle. “Let’s try it then.”

This chocolate is a dark chocolate raspberry truffle, incredibly decadent and delicious. You describe it to Astarion as you chew, in case it might make tasting your blood all the more satisfying. After enough time has passed to allow the chocolate’s sugar to enter your bloodstream, he gives you a gentle squeeze with his arms and bites into your neck.

You can feel his soft hum on your skin as he savors it, and he pulls away a second later. “So?” you ask. “How was it?”

Astarion licks his lips to capture any remaining traces of blood and gives you a pleased grin. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are bright with bliss. “Mmm, I think Alfira was onto something. That was divine. I don’t think your blood’s ever been so… rich.”

There’s something about his demeanor, his expression, his compliment, that make you feel especially proud. “Should we try another?”

“Yes, my love. I would like that quite a bit,” he says, laying back on your shoulder while you pick out your next chocolate.

It’s only as you’re chewing your third sweet, a warm apple cider flavor, that you realize why you’re so proud: for the very first time since you’ve known Astarion, you’re able to share a piece of your mortality with him. Flavors may not be the same to him anymore, he may not get the chewy nougat or melting caramel, but it’s something– at the very least you can share this.

The smiles you share that night are warm, the flavors sensational, and the love so very sweet.

You’ll have to send Alfira your own thank you gift later.

[be-my-ally]

Snowballs and Kisses

Hello darlings!! Merry Christmas! I hope everyone celebrating has a wonderful day, and everyone for whom it is a usual monday has a better than usual start to the week!! 

I have been MIA the last few weeks on here, but never fear I have been busy behind the scenes and hopefully more things and fics will be finished very soon!! I cannot wait for my little new year break, and *finally* catching up on all the stuff I've missed!! In the meantime as a ittle teeny tiny Christmas gift please enjoy this timeskip for my Splashing Around ‘verse to Christmas Eve 1960 and my shameless OC self insert of what I’d like to gift Elvis. 

a/n not totally accurate weather references: it didn’t actually snow in memphis in the latter half of 1959 but, this is fanfiction after all and it *was* very cold november 18th 1959. (I also cut a whole 4k of angst that will come out at some point as a separate chapter, Anita getting a poodle, and the colonel dressed as santa because honestly i just wanted to write and read fluff, but here's a warning that there may end up being more festive fics posted…a little late). 

warnings: 18+, smut lite; gentle fingering and references to cumming in pants. UNEDITED

Graceland - December 1960 

The excitement of having Elvis back at home for the festive season was only slightly tempered by the knowledge that it was his first Christmas at home without his mother. He’d not really tried to celebrate properly in Germany; sure they’d done the best they could, and he raved about the gift of a fully dressed tree for weeks,  but it hadn’t been the same as it would have been at home. 

This year though, Elvis seemed determined to restore the festive spirit. Perhaps even further than just restoration - an attempt to make it as bright and jolly as possible in response to both his mother’s passing, and missing the last two. He’d bragged to anyone who would listen about how excited he was to give out presents, his plans for even more lights than ever before; signs and lawn decorations.

While Louise was excited, it had left her in an almost constant state of anxiety, Christmas wasn’t just about the gift-giving… but it was a large enough part of it that it’s where her mind immediately went. From the moment he suggested they hang at Graceland that first year, from the first time they’d all pored over the letter to Frances, and his promises to “have a ball next Christmas”, giggling and whispering about what fun they were going to have the following year. From all of those times Louise had been preoccupied with what to get him and whether her secret plan was good enough for Elvis of all people. 

That first year he had reiterated to them all and was absolutely adamant no-one needed to gift him anything and wouldn’t hear of anything being sent over to him. But his frequent calls and mentions of the upcoming holiday belied his actual feelings and besides, Louise wanted him to feel special. Wanted him to know they’d been thinking of him as much as he must have missed being home. It wasn’t until the 27th of November and the slightest of snowfalls had occurred, tiny little snowflakes, delicately falling down when the temperature had dropped just enough for the rain to crystallise when a flash of inspiration hit her. She couldn’t send it, so instead she’d waited patiently, adding to her bundle throughout the months. Now that it was almost time to give it though she was second-guessing that two year decision. Was it too juvenile? It’s just so tricky to buy for the man who literally has anything he could ever wish for. As the festive period hurtles on she resigns herself to having to hunt for a back-up gift…maybe a nice sweater. Maybe that will do.  Or maybe it’s best to have options. 

Elvis’ melancholia about the holiday doesn’t seem to stretch into Christmas Eve, and he encourages them with all the enthusiasm he’s ever had. The party starts from mid-afternoon and stretches long into the evening and night with all the makings of an excellent time from the music to the food until eventually they all find themselves around the extravagant tree to exchange presents. It’s a little chaotic, so many people about and frequently someone’s having to dive from room to room to fetch people or hidden gifts. Louise finds it almost dizzying when she finally manages to take a seat on the long sofa, catching her breath from being sent to find someone. She was already finding herself struggling to think whenever she glanced over at Elvis - he looked outrageously good in a white shirt, black trousers - well, he looked outrageously good all the time at the moment - but there was something about the feeling in the air of the day that made it all the harder to act natural around him. Elvis had been quiet for a moment, but now he was sat on his armchair across the room, looking for all the world like a king on a throne ready to bestow his generosity on the peasants. Except, that’s not the feeling in the room at all; it’s jolly and wonderful, picture perfect - all of them slightly tipsy on champagne and vodka cocktails and finding the evening all the more entertaining for it. He announces he wants to give the presents that he’s bought everyone before he opens his own, and Louise dips her eyes when he hands her a little bow-tied box. No-one else’s comes with a ribbon and she strokes it, feeling a glow emanating from her stomach and chest as she imagines his nimble fingers tying it on, totally ignoring the fact that she knows someone else probably wrapped it for him. Still, she tugs it off to hide from the others - not wanting to be teased about how such a little gesture has made her blush so strongly - and tucks it into her palm, fully intending on slipping it into her shoe or around her wrist in a moment, knowing she’ll keep it forever - wear it in her hair like a declaration.

When she looks back up everyone has a similar box and she opens it quickly in case they’re all the same - she doesn’t want to ruin her surprise. There, nestled in a little velvet box is a ring, a huge, gaudy red stone in the centre, almost too big for her finger.  Louise is transfixed, staring at it, barely a thought in her head as she tries to wrap her head around the way it sparkles in the light. Despite the size of the gem, the band was more than a little small when she tries to slip it on, and she quietly puts it back into the box, not wanting to draw attention to her apparently larger than expected fingers. She glances around, suddenly coming out of her shocked obliviousness. Her face falling when she realises that everyone around her is unboxing similarly precious jewellery. She’s resigning herself to having to sneak it off to get it resized and hating herself a little for it, wondering if there are exercises she could do or maybe a special diet to shrink her fingers to size, when she suddenly realises all the other girls are turning each-other around, kissing Elvis on the cheek in thanks, or asking him to clasp their new necklaces. Louise looks back down at her box and the others. What does a ring mean? It’s been gifted with such casualness that it can’t possibly mean anything can it? When she looks back up Elvis is staring right at her, and she makes eye contact with him - her wide eyes meeting his laughing ones. He winks, and turns back to Red. She tries her best to distract herself from it, ooh and aahing over everyone else’s and keeping quiet about the little box clutched tight in her hand. 

Half hour later Elvis is admiring his own little haul, when he catches her eye again, 

“You forget about me Lou?” Louise cringes at being called out so publicly, 

“Of course not!” She looks around the room, at the large group gathered there, “No, uh, why don’t you, well I’ve gotten you something else….It’s a sweater. It’s not great really, but I… your real gift I’ve made you, but,” She swallows building her courage, unsure why she’s so nervous suddenly when she’d been so excited for so long; the whole idea just seemed juvenile and silly now. “… you’ve gotta follow me for it.” He stares into her eyes for a second, before nodding and standing up, gesturing at her as if to say ‘lead the way’. 

He grins at the boys when they walk out, making a salacious movement as if to suggest her gift may not be all too family-friendly to accompanying guffaws of laughter. She ignores it, even as her tummy churns; should she be offering that? Is that what he wants these days?

“Don’t laugh.” She asks nervously as they walk into the little pantry. Elvis looks bemused to find himself there, leaning against the wall of the tiny space 

“I won’t” Louise nods, shutting the door, only to hear Elvis giggle, “You tryin’ to get me alone, doll?” 

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

“One hell of a christmas present! to be locked in a cupboard with a pretty little gal.” 

She rolls her eyes, wiggling past him to get to the freezer, 

“Close your eyes.” He obediently does so, and she reaches into an old box of ice-cream to pull out a Tupperware, “Hold your hands out.” And she puts it in his cupped fingers, “Ok…open.” He blinks down at the Tupperware.

“Um. Well, thanks, I’m uh, sure this will be useful.” Louise rolls her eyes, impatiently tugging off the lid herself, “Oh.” Elvis goes silent, staring at the three perfect, teeny snowballs balanced in the tub. Each resting upon a little piece of paper with Louise’s very best cursive handwriting spelling out the date; December 12th 1958, 18th November 1959, and 20th December 1960.  

The silence stretches as Elvis stares at the box, and Louise starts to ramble nervously,  “I was starting to panic this year, but at least I’d thought to pick some up back in January — it snowed so heavy on the 5th.  I think it was, or maybe the 15th? I’ll have to check my diary… so I mean it isn’t entirely accurate that it’s all from the 20th - but I mean, I had to have something and well I know how much you loved it when, when your mother… and I wanted you to know I’ve been thinkin’ of you non-stop while you were away. So, here, the first snow from the garden from every year you missed.” Elvis is still staring at the box, one finger poking each little round ball. 

“This really snow from two years ago?” 

“Uh-huh… I mean I don’t know what you’re gonna do with it now, but it really is… been in that box in the freezer this whole time…I hid it from everyone. Every time someone said they wanted some ice cream I panicked.”  

“Lou.” 

“‘M sorry this is really stupid, god - what are you gonna do with some snowballs, I should’ve gone in with the other girls, got you something really good… I just - well, I thought you’d like it and I know you misse-”

“Baby, I don’t, I don’t know what to say. I… I didn’t think anyone would think of me like this, like mama did, ever again. I - well, thank you, Lou darling, this is, well, its the best damn gift I’ve ever gotten.” He grabs her arm, tugging her to him - pressing a hard kiss to her forehead, the force of it surprising her.  “I’m gonna show everyone - c’mon - quick before they melt.” He runs out of the kitchen, leaving Louise to follow meekly behind. 

He shows them off like he’s a new father, proudly holding them up in the box, delicately picking one of them up and sighing at it, holding it up at the light for everyone to marvel at. It’s a little ridiculous in some ways - everyone in the room had been gifted something hugely lavish, and yet the thing  everyone was talking and gossiping at was a snowball. 

Hours later the party finally winds down enough that Louise realises she’s one of the last few stragglers of a night so late it’s turned into Christmas morning. How she’d ended up in this position she’ll never know, and she questions it herself as she stands quietly in the doorway, watching Elvis fumble on the piano. Just his fiddling is beautiful, little snippets of remembered carols, before he hammers onto the keys, singing along to Santa Claus is Back in Town. Louise can’t help the breathy gasp that escapes her and he looks up at her, smiling almost teasingly, perfect glint in his eye as he pauses for a second to run a hand through his hair before he continues for another verse and a half. He stops almost abruptly, standing up to stretch before turning to her. She’s trying to find the words to explain how beautiful it was, how perfect he sounds - how she can feel it throughout her whole being, but before she can express those sentiments he’s in front of her and grasping her hand. 

“C’mon,” He tugs her over to the armchair he’d been sat in earlier in the evening, “Over here hon, that’s it - you’re the last.” Elvis throws himself onto the chair, holding onto her, pulling her stumbling body against his. “You’re the last of my girls left…” He sighs melodramatically and Louise giggles uncontrollably back at him. She’d had an illicit two glasses and a half of champagne earlier in the evening; Elvis had playfully wagged his finger at her as she’d accepted it from Red although she’d seen him have more than a few drinks himself. She can feel the bubbles still settling into her tummy and head, fuzzing her thoughts a little and making her giggly and affectionate. Still, she wasn’t so tipsy she couldn’t call out his overdramatic behaviour. 

“They’ve just gone home for the night. They’ll be back tomorrow I’m sure.”  She shakes her head. He ignores her, crying out, 

“I’m all alone!” He tugs her by her elbow, catching her as she stumbles into his lap, pulling her onto him, flattening her wide skirt. It wasn’t really the fashion anymore but while she’d been momentarily hesitant about her holiday dress she wasn’t self-conscious, and she liked how it made her shape look. Some might suggest the bow and petticoats were juvenile, but it made her feel more adult than the tighter styles that were starting to become popular with her peers, more herself than playing dress-up. 

She snuggles under his arm, head pillowed on his chest, cheeks pressed against the little buttons of his shirt. He pretends to choke at her hair brushing his nose, using his free hand to flatten it under his chin and she grins, shivering against him as his breath tickles her skin. They stay cuddled for a few moments, sinking into the kind of happy exhaustion that seems to only occur on holidays. It feels different than before, although Elvis is more similarly carefree than she’d seen him in a long time. He’d grown up a lot over the years she hadn’t seen him, or so it felt, and his adultness didn’t match the image of him playing and fooling around that she had in her head. It’s an awful feeling, she thinks, that even with him right there, surrounding her, she still longs for a little more of the playfulness of the past.

Suddenly though Elvis shifts, interrupting her thoughts and murmuring against the top of her head, 

“Y’hear that?” Louise stops breathing, and all she can hear is the solid thump-thump of his heart against her ear, he waits a second but she can’t work out what he’s referring to and doesn’t respond, he gasps “There it is again! Do you hear it?” 

Louise shakes her head against him, frowning a little, “No?” She tries really hard to listen out, but other than the faintest hint of the music from the boys in the other room she can’t hear a thing. “The music?”  

“No! No, listen.” He puts his finger to his lips, shushing her,

“I really don’t hear anything Elvis.” He wraps his arm around her waist a little tighter, tugging her up so she was sat more upright on his knee, her face close to his. He whispers into her ear, 

“I think I hear hooves…” Louise frowns, 

“Hooves!?” God, it would be just her luck that he’d gone and bought her a horse or something, and she’d have to act grateful even though she was terrified of them.  

“Mmhmm, that’s right.” His hand rises up to brush across her back gently, fingertips dancing around her side, “Hooves. Hooves and bells.” He pauses for dramatic effect, jabbing his finger into her side in a tickling poke. His voice dips lower, as his arm squeezes around her, “Someone must have been a good girl this year.” 

Louise grins when she realises what he’s implying and couldn’t bring herself not to play along. 

“…You think it’s Santa Claus?!” 

“Hmm, definitely…who else would it be, on the roof with hooves and bells on Christmas eve?” She giggles, both in response to his kind-natured teasing and his fingers poking her side with an exaggerated motion.

“Oh, I wonder what he’ll leave in my stocking…” Elvis hums against her hair, 

“Mmm. Coal.” 

“Nooo!” She giggles back to him, “You just said I’ve been a good girl!”

“You’ve been a very good little girl.” His voice has hit that low pitch that immediately sends a jolt down her spine, right into the pit of her stomach and she swallows, trying to keep up with the joke. 

“Well, I’m, uh, I’m sure I’ll like whatever it is.” 

“Mmhmm….” His hand brushes up her leg, “Bet ya I’ll like what’s in your stockings more…” 

“Elvis!” She shrieks, playfully batting his hand away, he pulls it off of her, smoothing down her skirt, and resting it onto her lap for a moment. Louise feels her breath catching as he presses a kiss to the side of her head, brushing her hair out of the way and shifting her on his thigh so that she’s facing him. It’s almost a struggle for her to meet his eyes, she felt so desperate for his attention - but there was nowhere else to look that made her feel any less heated. His hair, god even his eyebrows were Elvis-enough to make her squirm. It’s only a second of him kissing her jaw, before she’s gasping for him, and before she knows what she’s doing she’s grabbing his hand and shoving it back on her thigh. 

She’d kept herself for him, even as it felt that she’d been playing before, doing it for someone who would never notice or care - ostensibly in general, but really if she was truthful - for him. She’d touched herself, hadn’t been able to resist the temptation, especially after his deep voice came through the phone - but the other boys, the boys in school, the ones with blue collar jobs and careers, had all lost their appeal whenever she imagined kissing them, and her imagination interposed the image and feeling of him, his slippery body in the pool, the feel of him in front of her on the bike. He was thinner now, even still, than he was before, puppy fat replaced with lean muscles. His face shape changed just the tiniest bit, perhaps unnoticeable to some, but so very obvious to her, cheekbones and chin more angular than before. But his lips feel the same as they did before he left, and since his return home - she’d expected they’d have lost their eager nature, but still she can feel the hint of desperation as he presses them against her jaw.

She gasps, rocking against him as he roves down her neck - a place no one else has ever touched, tiny points of pressure feeling like a heat was expanding across her neck and chest, matching the clench of her thighs. His hand gently strokes up her stockings before he hitches her up, capturing his mouth with hers and shoving her underlayers up to her waist in the abrupt movement. Louise moves with him, desperate to stay in contact with his lips and she moans in upset when he starts to pull away. 

“C’mon baby,” He whispers, “C’mon, Lou-Lou let me - let me say thank you,” He’s barely audible as he speaks against her lips between pressing bruising kisses onto them, “I just - wanna, wanna make you feel good, Lou doll.” She gasps out her agreement, eyes falling closed and her head falling into his shoulder as his fingers find their way to rub against the silk of her underwear. He shifts her again, balancing her so she can rock against his thigh and his hand, whilst also rubbing her leg against his covered crotch. Louise is almost surprised at the heat of him against her thigh, but her curiosity has no chance to be satisfied when he hooks a finger under the leg band of her panties, totally distracting her from anything but the feel of him under her and attempting to stay somewhat upright. His finger feels softer than she’d imagined, and yet, in comparison to her own the pads feel foreign, rougher and surer than hers ever were sliding into the wetness they find there.

“God, you’re so soft baby, so fucking soft in here, perfect for me, you been waiting on me, honey?” 

“Uh-huh, waited, waited so long for you Elvis - didn’t, I didn’t want anyone but you.” He groans in response, his fingers moving faster. Until he’s forced to stop, tangled in the fabric and he growls in frustration. Louise feels it go straight down her body, and her thighs clench, trapping his hand even more. He pauses for barely a second to manhandle her up, just enough to roughly tug her panties down enough that it’s now entirely her bare skin rubbing against his hand and clothed thigh, the fibres of his trousers almost giving her a friction burn with her rapid movements. He continues as he was a second earlier, but now with far easier access he’s able to swipe his fingers across her clit, taking her to the edge almost immediately. She has no idea if this was something he’s always done well, or if this is a trick he’d picked up while he was away, but whatever the reason she was grateful. She doesn’t even consider how they were still, essentially, in public, too distracted by his slender fingers to be concerned about her now partial nudity. The only noise to break up their combined breathy moans is the layers of of taffeta rustling between them, as she continues to rock against his thigh, but this all changes when he delves his thumb into her wetness, bringing it back up to stroke circles on her clit, gently but repeatedly running it over her. 

“Oh, Elvis?” She cries out,  

“What baby? You’re so - I can feel you’re close,” His own breathing is getting heavier, and he holds her steady with his other hand grasping her thigh while his thumb continues to stroke her, 

“I don’t - I don’t…” She doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say, and before she manages to turn it into a complete sentence she’s shaking on him as she rides out her orgasm. He sees her through it, continuing to stroke her with the same pressure before rapidly shoving his hand down his own pants, roughly rubbing himself off to quick completion. She watches him closely, unable to do anything but stare as his own eyes slide closed, head falling back against the couch and mouth opening as he gasps out a high-pitched moan. It was about enough to make her shudder again against his thigh, the look on his face, his mussed hair, open collar and the noises of sheer pleasure. Louise finds herself bouncing on his chest as he breathes rapidly from the effort, and he holds her tight for a few moments while they both regain use of their limbs. Louise feels almost a little shell-shocked and she only really comes to her senses when Elvis shifts, wiping his hand on his trousers with a grimace and patting her thigh, 

“Gosh that was, I, um, thank you El,” He grins at her, clearly pleased with his success, and he pats her leg again, 

“Thank you, honey, for just about the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me earlier baby, it was just - I’m gonna treasure them snowballs forever, you’ll see.” She grins back at him before an unstoppable yawn takes over her face, “C’mon lil girl, time for bed.” She gulps, thinking about all the people on the house - worrying what will happen next, 

“D’you…where am I gonna sleep?” Elvis frowns, little furrowed line marring his previously relaxed face, 

“With me?” 

“Oh,” Louise swallows, “Um, I think my parents will be expecting me - you know, Christmas morning’s all about -“ 

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll drop you home at the crack of dawn,” He winks, “-gotta make sure the house is all in order in any case anyway.” Elvis pauses, “Or, or you could invite your mama and pops over. They’d be more than welcome…nothing my mama liked more than a full house - especially at Christmas.” He’s looking at her with that earnest little boy expression again and it takes everything in her not to just suggest she should stay forever, it was so absurd that he’d want her to stay, instead of the other way around. 

“Well…maybe I could stay. And, well, I mean, I could come over in the evening? If you swear you’ll make sure I get home in time -“ He’s quick to interject, 

“Cross my heart darling,” She hums at him, and he motions the crossing of his heart across his chest, solemnly holding eye contact, “I swear.”

“Ok then, I’d love to stay.” 

Somehow, and (despite his promises) to Louise’s surprise, she’s dutifully shaken awake and dropped off home, albeit not by Elvis himself, only a few very short hours later. Coming up the driveway of her childhood home it feels almost inconceivable that she should have spent the day and night how she has, and she wonders for a brief moment if she hadn’t knocked her head or something and just hallucinated the whole affair. She’s so in her thoughts that she doesn’t yet notice, as she traipses past the lounge and kitchen where she can hear her mother singing to quickly change, a new set of boxes under the Christmas tree. Elvis’ script on the gift tags declaring “To Louise, a very good girl, from Santa.” 

taglist: (it's been so long that I've lost the list for this verse - lmk if you want to be added, or taken off!)

@lialocklear @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @thatbanditquee @lookingforrainbows @whositmcwhatsit @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @peskybedtime @powerofelvis @dkayfixates @shakerattlescroll

[darklydeliciousdesires]

La Dolce Vita - John Shelby/Cosima Changretta (OFC).

Bit more John n' Cosima for you, you beautiful people! I'm really feeling inspired in my writing of late, so yeah, you get to enjoy lots of work flying out of the DDD press! :D

Words - 2,214

Warnings - Each part will be adult only content, from swearing to eventual smut and violence. Minors DNI.

Part IV - Beatitudine

Cosima Shelby. By night, when out on the town with her husband, she was the quintessential gangster’s wife. Furs, pearls, diamonds; the young woman simply oozed glamour as she dripped in luxury. By day, she was much removed from such an image. On holiday, she was even more casual.  

“Don’t you blame me if you get sore feet, Sima. Ain’t gonna be my fault.”  

He might have given her a soft warning over her lack of shoes, but seeing his wife so carefree as she walked the cobblestone side streets of Cortona, the little Tuscan village she had been born in twenty-three years ago that coming autumn, all John could do was smile. 

Her hair was pinned up, only a few strands floating free at the nape of her neck, her face smothered in olive oil. “What are ya, a fucking salad?” he’d laughed after catching her rubbing her face in the kitchen staple, Cosima insisting that it was marvellous for the skin.  

“Angelo, ciao!” she called, arriving at the tiny bistro she’d been raving about since they arrived the night before, the owner opening his arms and greeting her warmly. 

“Benventua, Cosima! Stai bene?” 

She beamed, “Si, si.” From the tiny bit of Italian John knew, he gathered that Angelo had welcomed her and asked after her health, joining them and being offered a hand by the tall, potbellied man who shook it warmly. “Angelo, this is John, my husband.” 

“Ahhh, she is a married woman now! Welcome, John! Let me bring my wife out to meet you. Hey, Lucia! Cosima is here!” Every summer since her birth, the Changretta’s had returned to their home village, the family known well in Cortona. They were then joined by a woman of radiant good looks, wrapping Cosima in her arms, greeting John with the same warmth before they were shown to a table out in the small courtyard at the rear of the establishment. 

He had decided that after having no honeymoon at all, not even a blissful, post-marriage period that could be considered as such, they’d have it now he and his new bride were finally in that state of sublime happiness. Who cared that it happened to be five months on? They’d set sail for Italy from Plymouth just over a week ago, after John had dropped the children off in Small Heath, all under Polly’s care for the month and a half he and Cosima would be away.  

Taking a menu, he looked down at it in pure puzzlement, looking at his wife for assistance. She covered his hand with hers, ordering for them both. “I ordered a few things we can share, and a bottle of the best Chianti you will ever drink. Remind me to come back before we leave so I can buy a few bottles to bring home.”  

He wasn’t much of a wine fan, not being particularly cultured, but he had to agree that upon taking a first sip, it was of incredible, full-bodied flavour. Relaxing in the sunshine, just him and his wife, he felt like a completely different person. He’d never been on holiday before, save a few weekends away at Brean and Skegness as a child. The beauty of Italy was something he had never experienced beyond listening to his wife speak of the place she held so dear, and being there, he could see why. 

“Should we retire out here one day?” 

His question out of complete thin air made her laugh softly, hardly able to imagine that far in the future. “I think that’d be lovely. Blooming hell, I can’t imagine us as a little old couple, shuffling around.” 

“I can,” he smiled, knitting his fingers together behind his head as he closed his eyes to the warm sunshine beaming onto his face. “You’ll be beautiful, still, and continue to throw plates at me an’ all, just much slower.”  

“I might have to move onto smaller things when my joints ache,” she mused, her smile widening her pretty lips. “Egg cups, saucers, things like that.”  

The laughter they shared filled the space, John reaching for her, pulling her onto his lap. “I dunno what it is about you. You’re like two different people, and I fucking love both of ‘em.”  

Her heart skipped like a newborn spring lamb. “You’ve never told me that before.”  

He arched an eyebrow, her heart somersaulting again at his male beauty. “Well, I’m telling you now. And I don’t need to hear you say it to me, either. Don’t feel like you have to.” 

“But I lo-" 

“Ah, ah! Nope!” 

“But John, I-” 

“Nope!” He cracked an eye open, grinning at her pinched-up lips, Cosima leaning in until her nose touched his. “Stop it.” 

“I love you, you dickhead.”  

“Charming, ain’t ya?” he snorted, still laughing.  

She shrugged. “I have my moments.” 

“Ar, ya do, bab. Charming, and with proper dirty feet, too.” He reached down her leg, grabbing her ankle and examining the sole of her foot. “Look at ‘em! Blacker than a coal miner’s arse!”  

“I plan on having a bath once we get back, I’ll have you know. That tub is huge, too. Easily big enough for two.”  

Her wink had him laughing. “Gonna see how much water we can splash out onto the floor?” She nodded enthusiastically, leaning to kiss him. He eventually put her down, their food brought out shortly after, both very contently full as they strolled back to the guest house they were staying in for the near complete duration of their holiday.  

For the last week, they were travelling to Rome, but the three preceding it were being spent in the quiet surroundings of the small lake house set at the foot of the hills, the people who owned it living at the main residence and letting them come and go as they pleased.  

“Give us one of them mucky hooves, then,” John spoke, sitting at the opposing end of the big, claw footed bathtub, objecting the smell of the lavender bath salts Cosima had sprinkled in very liberally, but not the fact he got to share the hot water with her.  

He received a heel to the chest for his remark, snorting laughing at the look on her face as she sat mildly aghast. “Hooves, John? I have beautiful feet, I keep them all nice and soft, toenails always painted, too.”  

“I know, I’ve seen all the bits of dead skin you leave all over the pumice, you mucky wench.” Her other foot found its way between his legs, John shifting back. “Oi, less of your violence, woman. I’ve got plans for where I’m gonna put that.” he winked, Cosima bobbing her tongue out as her foot retreated from its press against his cock, John lathering the soap in his hands. “So, did your mom and dad mean for you to be born out here? Wanting the kids to all be Italian by birth, was it?” 

“That’s exactly it, yes,” she began, finger combing her hair idly. “Only Luca and I are, though. Angel came earlier than expected, so he was a baby in arms already when he took his first breath of homeland air. Papa always said he wanted us to be all born in the same place, but wasn’t too sad that Angel was born in England. He was just glad he survived, coming a month early.”  

He noticed that over the last few months, he could speak of her family and not notice the dark storm of contemptuous fury begin swirling within her. Simply, there was none left, or if there was, she was doing well to hide it. He did hope it was the former. “I know that worry,” he spoke, working the soap suds between her dainty toes, the deep red polish flawless. “Oliver was five weeks early, fucking tiny little thing, he was. Bloody made up for it in noise ever since, though.”  

“Hasn’t he just,” she beamed, thinking of the absolute chaos that was her eldest stepchild. “I’m not going to say I don’t miss him and his siblings, but blinking hell, I love the quiet!” 

John laughed, picking up the cutthroat razor to the side of the tub and nodding at her leg.  

“Promise you won’t cut me?” she asked, watching her husband frown comically. 

“Do it every day to me own face, darlin’. Ain’t gonna even nick the skin.” Taking the soap again, he lathered her leg while resting her foot on his shoulder, slowly gliding the blade against the short hair regrowth. “I wonder what our kids’ll be like,” he mused, rinsing the razor. “It’d be nice if the first one was conceived over here, eh?”  

“Feisty, I predict, if our temperaments are anything to go by.” 

He snorted softly. “You’re worse than me.” Immediately she scowled, John placing a loving kiss against the side of her foot.  

“And you’re a fucking wind-up merchant!” she attested, watching as he rinsed her leg and then started the routine again on the left one.  

“Ahh, ya wouldn’t love me if I didn’t have a bit of bite.” he remarked, snapping his teeth at her, hands working the soap over her leg. That was true enough, she thought. A boring, placid man was not for her. She quite enjoyed that his spark matched hers in illumination. Once he was finished returning her legs to silky smooth glory, he made his intention to be between them very clear, her hands travelling over the lithe muscles that flexed across his shoulders as he caught her lips in a kiss. 

If there was a better way to spend the late afternoon, she was yet to hear it.  

Their kisses swirled slow like honey, steam rising in the figurative and literal all around them, John feeling his skin break out into goose pimples at the pattered exploration of her fingertips. Deep groans rumbled his throat when she moved her kisses to the side of his neck, a soft bite eliciting a shiver, his hand moving between her legs to stroke until she was purring with desire.  

Reaching beneath her, he lifted her body, sitting back on his heels, bouncing her on his cock, hands grasping her shoulders before smoothing down her back sensually, sharing kisses gilded in embers and sugar, feeling drunk on her.   

“God, you feel so fucking good,” she moaned, her head tipping back, his lips gliding torridly over her throat. “I love you.”   

Despite telling her he didn’t require her to say it back, John knew in that moment he’d never tire of it, hearing his beautiful wife declare her love for him. “I love you too, sweetheart. So much.” His words punctuated her fluttered gasps as the head of his cock scraped deliciously against her sweet spots, rutting her deep, hands running down her slender back. 

The rise and fall of their bodies was akin the cresting of gentle waves upon a sea, Cosima absolutely blown away by the intimacy, the divinity of it. This was the kind of sex she thought only existed in novels, too perfectly passionate to extend to reality, her reality too, no less.   

How could he be this perfect? And to think, she had once hated him with the kind of torridness that was now only reserved for how he made her feel when he was balls deep inside of her. The all-encompassing heat of him and the moment they shared shook her to her very foundations, her bones sizzling in utter ecstasy as she rocked against him, his strong hands stroking paths of sweeping tingles over her soft skin. 

Her walls throbbed with the sweetest flush of pleasure, his cock evoking swells of molten bliss, Cosima grinding down on him faster, her nerves in symphony, the sounds of her bum pounding off his thighs filling the bathroom. 

“Right, gotta get outta this bath, love,” he spoke, clutching her tightly in his arms. “Bloody foot is going to sleep!” Tightening his arms around her, he stood up from the water, carefully climbing out of the tub and carrying her to the wall. It was a favourite of his, standing up sex, reminding him of the first time he’d had her like that back in the kitchen of their cottage.  

John Shelby; he truly was all about the nostalgia. 

Winding his arms beneath her thighs, he grasped her bum to keep her spread as he began to roll his hips against her, every last inch of his cock slipping into the sumptuous, saturated hug of her cunt, but slow. So slow. 

Each thrust had ecstasy sizzling through her veins, her cries feral, the physical of what she felt demonstrated by her nails imbedding in his back, tearing down, leaving raspberry swellings across his pale freckle-flecked skin, John thriving on her reaction to the sublimity of his fuck. 

It felt sharp-edged as it gathered within her, the coil tightening before it snapped, consuming bliss throbbing through her entire body as he spilled into her deeply, grunting with exertion, the culmination a sweep of liquid velvet pouring through them, ebbing away slowly, leaving them shattered, yet dreamy with satisfaction.   

Not that either could know it so soon, but it also left them parents to a brand-new Shelby, too. 

[mamirhodessxox]

Hey there, would it be possible to get a cody fic? Length and type of writing is up to you but the prompt is "Cody meets your mom for the first time and is a bit nervous"

(Don't ask me why that came to mind I just imagine him super cute and nervous XD)

Nervous

Black Hair!Cody Rhodes x Fem!Reader

S/N= Sisters Name

M/N= Mothers Name

L/N= Last Name

Y/N= Your Name

Desc: Cody is meeting Y/N’s mother for the first time since their relationship bloomed & he’s feeling just a little bit nervous & is soon reassured.

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41

Contents: Fluff, Cussing, Y/N’s mom showing off embarrassing childhood pictures, Cody being a sweetheart <3

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Cody was rarely ever nervous for anything, but once you two began dating he became nervous to meet your mother especially since that was the only parental figure within your life. Your mother was someone who was never easily impressed, she knew if certain friends were good enough to be your friends or not simply by the vibe they bring to her home. He only spoke with her briefly over a face-time you were having with her over the summer and she seemed like a nice lady but now that the holidays were rolling by she had brought it upon herself to have you two stay over for Christmas and Christmas eve. At first he was more than happy to accept the invitation and even cleared his entire schedule.

But then the months rolled by faster and faster & boom, December 23rd hit and because she lived across town you two decided to take a road trip to her house. The entire car was filled with silence beside his shaking breath and hefty mumbled of “fuck..” at first it was fine but when you had tried taking a nap it became slightly irritating “sweetheart what’s wrong?” Cody turned his head with a flushed red look on his face “I’m fucking terrified to meet your mother doll.” A chuckle rolled from your tongue as he finally confessed as to why he had been freaking out “Cody babe you’ll be fine. You met her before” He shook his head “No I had a brief interaction with her over a screen that’s different baby, She’s making me rethink me choices in life like this tattoo & choice in career and she hasn’t even said anything yet. I’ve heard your stories Y/N.” She laughed shaking her head and run her fingers through his black hair “Baby you’re overthinking it she doesn’t judge off of tattoos relax.”

Cody sighed as he realized they had just pulled into her driveway and pinched the bridge of his nose after tugging the keys out of the ignition and staring down at his lap “Baby if she hates me I’m so sorry.” You laughed and took off your seatbelt “Baby she won’t hate you relax.” Cody sighed opening the trunk after he got out of the car while you went up to her mothers door knocking on it while he grabbed their suitcases & bags of gifts for Your cousins & nieces since her sisters had become parents a few years ago. Your mother opened the door & smiled widely hugging her youngest child “Babygirl! I missed you so much I was almost convinced you forgot about me!” You smiled brightly and hugged her mom as Cody just made it to the porch and wiped off his clammy hands and took a deep breath holding out his hand

“You must be who swiped up my daughter.” She spoke in a serious tone which even had you concerned and probably cause Cody to shit bricks. “Oh I’m just joking baby come here! Give me a hug.” She smiled widely and pulled Cody into a big hug while he smiled and sighed out in relief before wrapping his arms around her “It’s wonderful to meet you Mrs L/N.” Her mother smiled patting his back before guiding him inside while he carried in the suitcases “I hope you don’t mind pizza tonight I was quite unprepared and all of the food being made will be for christmas.”

You shook your head “Mama don’t worry it’s fine, Cody & I can go to the store tomorrow and whip something up for Christmas eve don’t worry.” Her mother smiled cupping your face in her hands “You’re too sweet dear, Cody sweetheart you & Y/N will be sleeping in her old room okay? It’s down the hall the last door to your right.” He smiled nervously and hustled upstairs with the luggage while your mother took you to the Christmas tree to put away all the presents you & Cody had brought during the trip over to the house. “He’s a sweet boy Y/N i can tell he has love for you.” You smiled from ear to ear while pushing strands of your own hair out of your face as you thought of your boyfriend “He is the best isn’t he mama?”

Cody came downstairs & nervously sat on the couch while your Sister had just walked into the house making your mother get up and help her get settled in. Cody smiled over in your direction as you got up and stood between his legs as his arms wrapped around your waist “One direction?” He teased at your bedroom that was filled with boy band posters & teen magazines you owned when you were in middle school and high school “Shutup.”

You laughed out as he pressed a soft kiss against your collarbone, Cody got up as S/N made her way into the living room while her husband put away their suitcases while the kids scampered around hugging your leg “Auntie Y/N!!” You grinned widely fixing your attention onto the little ones while S/N & Cody introduced themselves to each other “You must be Cody! It’s nice to meet you finally!” Cody smiled shaking her hand “It’s amazing to meet you too S/N! I hear a lot about you & the kids.” S/N grinned as her husband shook Cody’s hands while they all got to know each other.

For the remainder of the night they all munched down on pizza & laughed about their old family memories, “Mrs L/N Is it alright if I get a drink from the kitchen.” Cody questioned while your mother smiled “Of course Cody! My home is your home you welcome yourself to anything you’d like sweetheart and don’t call me L/N I feel old! Call me M/N!” He smiled nodding his head “Yes Ma’am.” He got up & went into the kitchen seeing you bake Christmas cookies with the girls while he got himself a drink. He watched as you interacted with the kids & helped wash their hands while he pointed out your failed attempt of a santa clause cookie “What happened here?” You sighed jokingly “I ruined Santa.” He snorted looking over at you while the kids ran off as he hummed wrapping his hands in your hair while you admired his black hair before kissing him “Thank you for being so good to me Doll.” You smiled before kissing his cheek “No thank you, this means more than a lot to me Codes.” He smiled and kissed you once more before you two called it a night & went to bed.

The next morning it was finally Christmas Eve you noticed Cody wasn’t in bed with you & then you heard muffled chuckling from downstairs followed with your Mom telling some sort of story so you made your way downstairs and saw Cody sitting next to your mother on the couch while the kids were playing & running around & immediately saw the old photo book your mother owned and knew she was showing off your childhood photos up to your high-school graduation “She was such a talented girl.” Your mother sighed while Cody smiled nodding in agreement before turning his head looking over at you

“Goodmorning baby, I didn’t wanna wake you so I let you sleep in for a little bit.” You smile groggily and shook your head before getting on the couch and lying your head down in his lap “Don’t worry it’s fine.” Your mother smiled as she looked at you two & showed you one of the photos they were looking at which was your first month of college sitting in a dorm with your roommates pre gaming for some sort of party “Y/N was a major party girl when she went to college” Cody raised a brow “You? Partying? This is news to me.” You smacked his chest lightly while he laughed it off.

For the remainder of your stay at the house you both help make dinner for Christmas & mainly watch as he bonded with your mother & nieces & cousins, If you didn’t know then that he was your soulmate for the rest of your life well now you knew. <3

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