#but nope! turns out it was more than just that time. TWO MORE TIMES in fact!

[xortstories]

Contrary Writing Advice: Tell, Don't Show

Wherein I give advice that runs contrary to commonly shared writing tips, because some short bits of advice get repeated without context until they become actively detrimental to the process.

Today, we're looking at a common adage: "Show, don't tell."

On the surface, this seems to be (and often can be) good advice. "Showing," in the context of writing, is all about description. Don't say "He was sad because he had to go to work", say "His shoulders were slumped and he walked with slow, trudging steps to his cubicle."

It paints a picture with words. It implies the sadness, allowing the reader to interpret it by picking up on the cues in the writing, thus increasing engagement in the story.

It's not always that simple, though. For the most basic problem, let's compare word counts. In the example given it's not that egregious—10 words for "telling" vs 14 words for "showing," but that's still a 1.4x increase to the word count of your book, and it could get much more than that. There is value in shorter, telling sentences. For starters, they break things up and can be used to punctuate the end of a sequence. Let's have an example paragraph, which we'll then try two final sentences for.

He desperately raised his shield as his foe rained down a series of heavy blows on him. Once, twice, three times the knight's mace collided with the shield, splintering the wood and driving him to his knees. His shoulder ached, and the shield began to fall low enough that his head would soon be exposed. Then, out of nowhere, another soldier—one of the many allies whose names and faces now bled from his mind as adrenaline washed away all conscious thought—appeared as if from nowhere, colliding with the knight and thrusting his dagger frantically at the weaker parts of his foe's otherwise impenetrable armor.

Probably not the best fight scene I've ever written, but it does the job of being a very strong example of "showing." Now let's look at two ways to follow up this paragraph.

#1: Showing

He turned, heedless of his ally's struggle, and dashed away. His heart pounded in his chest and he struggled to keep his shaking limbs steady, stumbling and faltering every few steps. The sounds of battle surrounded him, overloading his senses, and he narrowly avoided several errant strikes from others embroiled in conflict as he raced through the battlefield.

Again, not the best, but a pretty good paragraph. We'll talk more about it in a moment though, as now we're gonna look at a second followup:

#2: Telling

He ran for it, leaving the battlefield far behind him.

So, let's examine what each of these followups actually does for the story.

For starters, we need to consider what we want this scene to accomplish and how important it is. If this is meant to be a defining moment for the character, the culmination of several chapters of buildup where he trained for the upcoming battle, grew close to his allies, struggled with his fears and insecurities, and now in the heat of the moment loses his nerve?

Yeah, it might be worth it to drag things out and continue "showing" what he does.

But let's say instead that this, instead, is meant to be an establishing moment for an already-true fact about the character. Let's imagine that this is from the opening scene in a story that, we will soon learn, is about a cowardly soldier. The buildup of the main paragraph above sets up a suitably intense, epic fight scene. It paints the main character ambiguously, as someone who is fighting but unable to hold his own, but it leaves open the possibility that he'll join his ally and finish off the knight that was hammering him down.

And then comes the rug pull. Just when the reader expects the intense fight scene to continue, nope! He's running away. The short and to-the-point nature of "telling" what the character does there leaves things unambiguous and drives the idea home immediately. We see that the character is a coward, and that sudden rug-pull creates a great moment where the reader goes "Oh, I see. He's a coward."

Basically, it's a punchline. And a punchline has to be... punchy. You can't draw it out with sentences and sentences of "showing." You just "tell."

Let's also consider the fact that ending a long series of "showing" paragraphs with a short, simple "tell" can be a great way to transition out of a scene. It signals that that sensory feast is over, wraps it up and puts a bow on it, and lets the author move into another discrete chunk of writing.

"Telling" is also great to summarize boring, inconsequential parts of the story. If your book is about political machinations, where the draw is the characters going toe-to-toe with clever enemies in social scenarios, then it's totally fine—sometimes imperative, even—to just say "After three weeks of travel, where x, y, and z, happened, Bobson finally reached his destination."

I could go on, but this post is long enough already. Remember, the point isn't that "showing" is always bad, just that you need to understand the benefits of telling and know when it's best to do one or the other, because 100% of either does not make for a very good story.

Also I'll probably write more of these in the future. I've got plenty of beef with common writing tips.

If you like my posts, feel free to buy me a coffee!

And if you're interested in seeing what I'm working on, check out my Blood of Dragons master post!

[fisheito]

DID HE LICK? (🐍 edition)

STORY CHP 2: ✅ (ear/abdomen) BELOVED SR: ✅ (mouth) THE OG SSR: ✅✅ (ear; mouth) WHITE DAY: ✅❌️ (mouth) IDOLKUMO: ❌️✅ (mouth/neck/ear) VAMPIREY: ✅✅ (mouth/thighs; neck) BOOKWORM: ❌️✅ (mouth) HISSHISSSS: ✅✅ (neck; calf) IT'S RAINING: ✅✅ (DICK; neck)

H-SCENE TONGUE ACTIVATION RATE: 81%

[ijustdontlikepeople]

may I ask how you did this edit? it's a beautiful effect and I'd like to replicate it (only if you don't mind sharing, of course). tumblr.com/ijustdontlikepeople/739905108314324992

Hi anon! Thank you!! I’ve always been very fond of this guy and I am always happy to talk about making stuff!

It’s been a little while so my memory of the process is a little blurry and unfortunately, I cleaned out my project storage last week so I can’t go back layer by layer anymore but here’s the best of my memory

So, it started when I saw this base image and Davo looked very “heavy is the head that wears the crown” and I loved it

I brought it into PicsArt on my phone and cropped it so he was a bit more centered.

I went through the PicsArt stickers for an “orb” or “light burst” this is the one I used

To place the orb behind Davo like I wanted I added in another layer of that original photo, and removed the background until I just had Davo’s head

They should be layered original photo, burst, head, like above. Now you can see some spots in his hair and such that the orb light is not visible through so you go back through and erase bits of the Davo head layer. you don’t have to be too too particular about it bc the same photo of him is underneath.

If I remember right, the brightness of the orb wasn’t as high as I wanted so I doubled up on the same sticker

I think I one was centered over his left eye and then the other a few inches above it, and the i placed them both back behind the head layer again

Then added a sticker halo

Then I moved over to lens flare

I picked a light orangey one and placed one over his eye, lining it up with his Iris, then blending it with the light setting and duplicating the the layer and repeating for the other eye. I could have sworn that I gradually erased the edges so it faded into the rest of the photo but the software isn’t giving my an option to erase? So I’m not sure if that’s a change on their side or if I’m misremembering

From there, you apply and then go to FXs. (I may have tinkered with some color levels last time before this step but I don’t remember)

I’m not sure exactly which filters I used. I feel like there were two or three. I am about 80% sure I used these with roughly these specifics.

His face is cut out of PLRD which is done first than VINYL

So they didn’t turn out exactly the same but this about the gest. It’ll all be a little different depending on your starting photo. If you ever have any questions or just want to talk about what you’re making, my DMs and ask box are always open! I can give u my discord too if that’s easier! I hope this was a least a bit helpful!!

[gojoest]

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, wc: 3.3k, flashback of how you met (1st part of the fic, past tense used, then we jump back to present, divider used to separate the two timelines. both take place on his birthday btw), suguru makes an appearance (as satoru’s wingman :3), established relationship (you’re married & have a daughter), reader wears a dress, first time face sitting + riding (oral, f! receiving), pet names (baby, my love), he cums in his pants, breeding implied at the end (sort of, to avoid spoilers)

a/n: happy birthday to my biggest mental illness ♡

side note: if the story of how you met sounds familiar to you, please note that it was from one of my talk posts from a while ago & i decided to make use of it : )

what gojo satoru wants — he always gets.

after all, it’s how he made you his as well.

“satoru, you’re staring way too hard at her”, suguru nudged him on the arm.

“think she noticed, too?”, satoru chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning slightly red from embarrassment, unsure if it was because he got caught or that it was too obvious he was checking you out.

“very likely. i mean, it’s hard not to notice an annoying pair of blue laser beams persistently invading your space”, suguru mocked. “are you going to talk to her?”

“yes”, satoru firmly replied, without peeling his eyes from you, “i’ll ask her out, i think”

“hey, hey. slow down there”

“nope”, satoru shrugged, almost like a stubborn child disobeying his parent, “i’ve made up my mind — i really want to make her mine”

it was a pure coincidence, or some might say fate, that you ended up in the same restaurant — he was there celebrating his birthday with a small circle of friends while you were present to honor your colleague that had just gotten a promotion at work.

satoru’s eyes relentlessly followed your every move, every gesture, from the moment you walked in and settled on the table next to his. it was rather unusual for him to be this interested in someone simply upon sight, in fact, even desiring to pursue something with someone so immediately. it was always the other way around — women would flock to him because of his looks and peculiar behavior, and of course — his money — but he would turn them down without batting an eye. love and seeking romance were never a priority for him, he did not have time nor any interest in them. but here he was, contradicting himself, being blatantly distracted by your presence while somehow trying to simulate an active conversation with his friends, more than frequently averting his gaze to look at you, his brain busy coming up with a plan to get your number by the end of the night.

it didn’t take him too long to finally make his move. he stood up from his chair and walked over to your table, stopping right behind your seat.

“excuse me”, he leaned in, placing one hand at the edge of the table and the other — at the back of your chair, “hello”, his face mere inches away from yours. taken aback by the way he, a complete stranger, had the guts to get this close to you, you turned to face him with a questioning look.

“i felt like i would regret it for the rest of my life if i didn’t come say hi to you”, he spoke.

truth be told, despite being astounded and a bit put off by his approach, you were slightly intrigued. he was handsome, pretty even — like that one oddly eye-catching cloud in a sky full of thousands that you notice as soon as you look up. the white henley shirt he was wearing made the blue in his eyes pop even more, the v-neck revealing a little bit of his well-crafted chest, just enough to leave you tiny bit wondering about the ridges of his abs beneath.

as much as the scenery up close made your cheeks feel hot, his boldness rubbed you up the wrong way, too much to let it just slide, and you snapped. “is that so? well, now that you’ve said your hi, you can go back to your table and live with no regrets for the rest of your life”, you rolled your eyes skeptically, pushing his hand off the table.

“oh, i am sorry”, he chuckled, brushing his hair back with a hand, “but there are three more things i need to do before leaving, i’m afraid”

you raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“first, let me introduce myself — i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children”, he smugly said. your eyes widening at the audacity of his declaration that left you at a loss for words. “second, i hope you don’t mind introducing yourself as well — as you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children — it’s only natural that i know your name”, he continued, “and last but not least — i am not leaving until you give me your number so we can make this all work”

wow. this man was really fucked in the head, you were sure of it — who in the right mind would speak such nonsense to someone they just met? “you have to be joking, right?”, you laughed in genuine disbelief.

“no. i am dead serious”, he replied in a heartbeat.

“is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?”, you narrowed your eyes.

“actually—”, suguru interrupted, placing a hand on satoru’s shoulder as he approached from behind, “no”, he spoke. “believe me when i tell you this — he’s never been this smooth in his entire life. i know he probably came off a bit creepy, considering the boldness of his actions — hell, even i am creeped out because it’s pretty unusual for him to act like this”, he laughed, glancing at satoru to let him know that he got his back on this. “but, what i’m trying to say is — my friend here seems to really like you as i’ve never seen him be so intense and interested in anyone before. he’s also a birthday boy today — so could you at least give him a chance before turning him down so quickly? you can come sit with us before you make up your mind on whether you want to give him your number or not?”

you thought for a second, weighing the options in your mind — he was pretty, although he annoyed you a little bit by being all bossy and arrogant as if you were compelled to belong to him just because he said so. but there was just something about him you couldn’t quite put your finger on that made you question yourself. were you actually drawn to him? you could say “no” and never hear from him again, occasionally pondering over the what-if’s and should-have’s from this night; or you could say “fuck it” and see where this strange encounter goes, and live your life without regrets — as he would say. there — he was already getting under your skin…

“well”, you sighed, “guess i’m down for that”

by the end of the night not only did you give him your number, but also a promise for a date the next day — the first of many to follow after.

“careful, you’ll wake her up”, you whisper, leaning against the doorframe of your 3-year old’s room and watching your husband place a soft peck on your daughter’s forehead.

“can’t help it”, he speaks quietly, “she looks like an angel”, before fixing the blankets around her, making sure she’s tucked in all cozily. “the nanny said she cried for papa while we were gone”, he puts a hand over his mouth to stop his lips from trembling, his eyes filled with nothing but love and tenderness, welling up and flowing from the corners.

“she’s such a daddy’s girl”, you sigh, a soft smile present on your face, “next year we can stay home and invite everyone else over — that way we won’t have to worry about missing her bedtime”.

“yea”, he hums, “let’s do that next year”, giving her one last kiss before turning off the night lamp and tiptoeing to you. “come on”, he puts a hand at the small of your back as you both walk out of the room.

“do you remember”, satoru speaks softly into your ear while walking behind you on your way to your shared bedroom, his front flat against your back, the hand at the small of it now circling around to rest over your navel, while the other — reaches for the handle of your bedroom door to push it open, “the night we first met on my birthday?”, he continues after carefully guiding you inside.

you stop in the middle of the room, his arms still wrapped around you from behind, your hands resting over his and playing with his knuckles.

“how can i not?” you chuckle, tilting your head back to let him rest his chin on your forehead, “that was one hell of a fortune telling you pulled on me back then”

“but i was right, no?”, he brushes his lips on your forehead before leaving a soft peck, “see — you’re all mine now, just like i said”, and then another, ”i made you my girlfriend first”, and another, “then i gave you my last name”, and a fourth one, “and then you gave me a beautiful daughter, made me a father”, before turning you around to face him.

“you partly owe it to suguru though — he eased me into the situation, unlike you”, you reply, humbling him like you always do. your head is nestled on his broad chest as one of his hands caress the back of it. still in his embrace, he slowly walks you towards the bed. sits at the edge of it and straddles you on his lap. his palms finding their way to the plush of your thighs draped over his, caressing them tenderly but needily as his fingertips press and then release against your flesh in quick repetitive motions.

“this is because i asked him to give me a hand in case you cut me off”, he admits, tilting his head to meet your lips, not to kiss but just to keep them brushing against each other as you speak. he loved doing this a lot.

“oh?”, you gasp into his mouth, pretending to be shocked to your core, “you wanted me so much that you of all people, the gojo satoru, had to ask someone else for help?”

“you have no idea. if that hadn’t worked, i would’ve fallen on my hands and knees and begged you to take me”, one of his hands reaching the side of your face, playing his fingers on the strands of your hair covering your cheek before tucking them behind your ear.

“hmm”, you doubt, “is that so?”, nuzzling your nose against his.

“mhmm”, he nods, “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, i thought you knew that by now. it kind of hurts my feelings that you doubt me actually”, he acts offended, pursing his lips and turning his head to the side to face away from you.

“oh my, what have i done now”, you knit your brows and press your cheek against his, pretending to be very, very sorry about what you just said.

“you made the birthday boy sad”, he huffs a silly, somehow obviously forced, pout, “you’ve got to make it up to me somehow”

“i’d do anything to make the birthday boy smile again — just say the word”, you sweetly pamper, patting the top of his head.

“really?”

“really.”

“anything?”

“anything.”

“you promise not to go back on your word?”

“i promise.”

he pulls his cheek away from yours and looks you in the eyes, the blue in his shining with a darker shade of mischief now. and considering the smug smile on his face, you sigh — perhaps you just got yourself played, falling face down into his little trap.

“then”, he points at his own face, “sit on it”

to say you were surprised by his request would be a lie. he’s many times tried coaxing you into doing this in the past but somehow you managed to avoid it, part of you still shying away from it. it’s not like his tongue has never been inside you before. but riding it as if it were his cock seemed way more obscene in your head than anything you two have ever done previously — and you’ve done pretty much a lot.

“well”, you sigh in defeat, seems like the time has finally come, “today’s your lucky day”, you say as you get up from his lap and turn your back — a signal for him to unzip your dress — to which, of course, he immediately complies.

“as it should be”, his crafty fingers work the slider down, slowly peeling the dress off your body and letting it fall on the floor, followed by your lace thong and bra, “it’s my birthday after all”

“the way you always find a way to make things go your way gets on my nerves so much”, you turn around again and push him on the bed and slowly climb on top of him to straddle his chest.

“make a wish before you blow the candle”, you look down at him, your pussy close to his face, the scent of you tickling his nostrils, and he, instinctively almost, takes a deeper breath, rolling his eyes back and hissing with delight.

“freak”, you quickly look away, embarrassed, but he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him again, “i want you to look at me as you ride my face”, his voice comes out breathy, “will you do that for the birthday boy?”

you nod into his palms, “you’re insufferable” — “suffocate me then”, he coos through a grin, grabbing your knees to pull you forward until you’re above his face.

“jerk”, you say, but softly, as you lower your cunt on his willing mouth, landing your softness on his face in slow motion, immediately earning a throaty groan from him that shudders through your pussy lips.

satoru breathes deeply in and out with your heat on his mouth, the scent of you hitting his lungs and even below, reaching all the way down to his groin to further nurture his cock already throbbing in his slacks. his hand reaching down to unbuckle them slightly, to give more space for his hard-on to grow freely.

“mowe”, he muffles incoherently into your pussy, grabbing a handful of your ass cheeks to push you against his face, tilting his head up and down, jutting his jaw up and out to meet you.

you whimper at the friction, your clit bumping and rubbing against his nose as his lips are kissing your folds, his tongue slowly poking at your entrance with the tip before darting in — twirling around your walls — and out.

“nghh…s-sa-t-to—”, you barely cry out his name, tugging at his hair, mercilessly pulling him into your heat. as much as you hated to admit it, you loved this position. your embarrassment long gone and forgotten, you ride his face in a haze, your pussy getting wetter against his mouth and your movements — faster and harder each moment.

“heawen on my fongwue”, he groans. if he could speak properly right now, he would probably make the nastiest, dirtiest remarks, shamelessly walk you through every single thing he was feeling as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding on his face. he would probably say something about your boobs, too. how they looked so pretty jiggling ever so slightly from the movement. he can’t speak right now, yes, but he can still get his thoughts reach you through actions — his hands run along your belly, gripping your breasts from below, squeezing and squishing them inside of his palms.

you clutch his hands with yours, “i can’t hold this position for too long”, and force them down on your hips for support. you hear him say something through a loud groan but it’s barely recognizable — most likely just him cursing “fuck” and “baby” from pleasure under your pussy, but also from the ego boost you just gave him — that he can make you weak but at the same time desperate enough to want to continue — despite your hips giving up — not only with his cock but his mouth alone, too.

you let him take over as you chase your high, weighing on his face as his hands grip on your hips, dictating your every move, composing the tune of your hips. his tongue is no more sliding in and out as he makes you grind harder on his face — it stays in, continuously licking your sweet spot clean.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck…”, you curse loudly, reaching your hands to grab the head of the bed and hammer your pussy harder into his face, squeezing every last drop of strength left in your already cramping muscles until you cum, shuddering on his mouth.

“mfff”, he groans throatily into your hole, sucking and slurping your juices. his hips buck in the air, helplessly searching for friction to soothe his aching cock. his half-unbuckled pants are drenched with precum, leaking out from his tip through his boxers and out through the cloth of his pants, visibly staining them.

you can’t see but it’s easy to figure out from the way the bed bounces up and down as his ass meets the mattress after every time his hips fall down. “how cute”, you utter as you try to calm down your breathing, cunt still resting over his face.

his eyes are half closed, rolling back and hiding their blue away. all he needs is a little push, a little rub, you know it. you know it by the way his tongue has stopped moving inside you, by the way his hands have loosened the grip on your flesh, by the way his shortened moans have grown into one long and steady groan coming from the bottom of his throat — his entire brain solely focused on the muscles of his lower body that is searching, almost beggingly, for relief.

you lean your upper body back a little, just enough to make it easier to reach his shaft while still sitting on his face. “since you’re the birthday boy”, you drag your words out as you place your hand on his clothed cock, feeling the wetness that’s emerged from beneath against your palm, “i’ll give you a hand.”

his ass cheeks tense and squeeze as he presses his hips against your touch, ferociously rubbing his clothed cock on the flesh of your open palm. his groans get louder as he bucks his hips under your hand, pushing them up to meet your hand harder and faster each time — just the way he forces his cock into your tight cunt as he nears — until the last three thrusts that he always prolongs in order to properly and completely pump his seed out.

the inside of your hand feels hot against his clothed cock as he seeps himself out, the stickiness of his cum absorbing itself into the material of his pants and emerging through it to reach the skin of your palm.

you lift yourself up a little only to plop your body down next to his. his mouth, cheeks, chin, even his nose, are covered in his spit and your cum, all mixed in.

“shit, baby”, he laughs, breathing deeply in and out of his mouth, overwhelmed by the whole experience, “what the hell did you just do to me”

“do you really need me to verbalize what just happened”

“yes”

“no”, you slap his cheek with the back of your hand, softly, before rolling on your side to rest your head on the left side of his chest, kissing it tenderly. “happy birthday”

“it really is”, he whispers, tracing a heart shape over the skin of your exposed cheek with his fingertip, “with you, it always is”

“did your wish come true by any chance?”, you tilt your head to look at him.

“not yet. but i’ll work on it later tonight. for now, i’ll let you catch your breath”

“wait, wait.”, you raise a brow, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“my love”, he clears his throat, “do you remember how i said, when we first met, that you’d be the mother of my children?”

“yea? am i not?”

“children”, he stresses.

“oh.”, it finally hits you.

“one more to go”

[boyfhee]

✶ JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY !

jealously looks good on them

pairing enhypen x reader / fem reader in hoon's genre fluff warnings kissing in jake's, ignore the typos pleek notes happy reading ^^ requested

HEESEUNG

you know he's the jealous type just three days after dating him. it's in a fun way— of course. despite being the jealous type he doesn't overdo it ( or at least tries not to. ) you're gushing about your favourite character from a show or a celebrity you like and he's sulking on the inside.

“byeon wooseok is hot but not hotter than me. right, darling?” he would ask the moment he catches you watching the edits of the actor on tiktok. with eyes fixed on you, his lips morph more and more into a pout when you take more than a few seconds to respond. “i can't believe this,”

you watch him sit on the far end of the couch, away from you, refusing to spare you a glance even though you know his attention is on you. “c’mon hee, are you jealous of an actor? he doesn't even know me,”

“well, good for me because with how pretty you are, he will definitely fall for you if he gets to know you,” he replies through a frown, eyeing you through his peripheral gaze, arms crossed. it only makes you laugh at how cute he can be sometimes.

“and i'm in love with you so it doesn't matter,” and he's back to normal, crawling to your side and wrapping his arms around you. you just have to remind him that every time jealousy gets the best of him, even though he already knows it; but he likes to hear you say it. 

JONGSEONG

jay thought it would be cute to ask you out on a little convenience store date until your neighbour's son crashes it. well, not literally since he only happened to be there at the store. however, despite all, being the person he is, he doesn't think much of it.

that is until that guy decides to follow you around throughout the time you two shop. even when you two make it to the counter, he's next to you, talking to you and you're responding nicely, considering he's your neighbour.

“um, we're dating,” he says with an awkward smile when that guy asks if you're single. and jay has always been patient but he grabs the shopping bags and your hand, and walks out of the store with the speed of light.

“you can let go of my hand,” you laugh at the look of pure jealousy on his face. it's not really obvious, but you can see it. you've known him long enough to know how he is when he's jealous.

“nope,” he shakes his head, lacing his fingers with your own while you two are walking back to his place. “not until we're home,”

JAEYUN

he thinks he's being subtle about it but you don't miss the way he keeps scooting closer while you're texting a friend. he's not trying to peek, he's trying to get your attention.

“who even have you been texting for so long?” he asks after a few seconds, sitting lazily next to you on the bed with a faint pout residing on his lips.

“my friend. it's her birthday soon and she wants me to go shopping with her,” you don't even look up at him as you respond, smiling at your phone screen. he stares at you for a brief second before laying down with a slight whine.

“you're leaving me,” his words reach your ears and you turn your head towards him, brows furrowed. “i need to die,”

and the ‘j’ in jake stands for jealousy, it was never a secret. however, you didn't expect him to act like this right now. “jake, it's not that serious,”

“it’s four in the evening and not a single kiss today,” he sits up and says with a dramatic gasp— eyes wide open as if the situation is oh so scandalous. he sighs, putting a hand on his chest, shaking his head. “i'm afraid this is my last day. any last words?”

and you chuckle, putting your phone away before scooting closer to him and cupping his face, pressing his lips against his. “you're so dramatic,” 

SUNGHOON

sunghoon was all up for an evening stroll around the campus after classes but definitely didn't appreciate the transfer student from your class ruin this little date.

subtle glares and his fingers intertwined with yours, and yet that guy couldn't catch a hint. sunghoon knows he's hitting on you, perhaps you do too but knowing how nice you are, you can't be rude when all that guy is doing is complimenting you. so, he'll do it for you— sunghoon is going to eat him up.

"i know, right? my girlfriend is the prettiest girl on earth. and guess what? she's smart as hell— i love my girl. oh you want her number? well, she's mine," all in one breath, followed by an awkward silence and sunghoon's prideful smile. "now, me and my girl have somewhere to be so if you'll excuse us,"

he doesn't even give a chance for your classmate to speak, walking away while bringing you along with him. as funny at it is, you know he wasn't taking any of it.

"was all that necessary?" you ask, fingers still laced with his as you two walked down towards an ice cream parlour.

"what's necessary is for us to get married," he says it in the most casual way, getting you your favourite ice cream flavour and handing it too you. "too many guys looking at you. i can't take the risk,"

SUNOO

"i thought you're no longer in touch with him," sunoo says quietly when you bid your goodbyes to your friend, holding your hand as you two walk back to your class together.

"yeah, but we're classmates so it was unavoidable," you respond with a smile, looking up at him. it only takes you a fraction of the second to notice the troubles expression on his face, behind the smile. "what's wrong?"

your boyfriend shakes his head, the smile getting wider but it's only an attempt to throw you off the topic. "nothing,"

"sunoo," you stand in his way, hands on your waist, looking at him with a cheeky grin. it's not often you catch sunoo with such an expression. "are you jealous?"

"i'm not!" he quickly defends himself, eyes going wide and cheeks heating up out of embarrassment. however he sighs, giving up the very next second. "well, maybe a little. he's your ex after all,"

"he was my friend before we started dating," and you couldn't help but chortle at his actions, nodding as you get back to holding his hand, this time a bit more firmly than earlier. "besides, i have you now,"

"right," he couldn't help but smile at your words and pulls you a bit closer to him, speaking with a triumphant grin. "you're too good for him anyway,"

JUNGWON

jungwon has been watching you for fifteen minutes now, laying on the bed, eyes squinted at you. "do you remember you have a boyfriend?"

"of course, i do. why would i forget that?" you furrow your brows at his question, looking up at him briefly before looking back at your boyfriend's pet dog.

"i don't know, seems like you did," he sighs, getting off the bed and sitting next to you on the floor, looking at his pet dog. "i called you over to spend time with you. not to watch you play with maeumi,"

and you laugh, caressing maeumi in your lap while looking at your boyfriend with a teasing grin. "i can't believe you're jealous of your own dog,"

"and what if i am?"

"it's a bit silly," you nod, the smile never leaving your face. "it's cute," his eyes follow your actions as you lean down to plant a soft kiss on maeumi's head and then lifting him up slightly. "but can you really ignore this cutie?"

and that was the end of his patience. jungwon gets up, picking maeumi before putting him away in the living room. "yeah, he's going up for adoption,"

"jungwon!"

RIKI

"he's so ugly," riki comments bitterly as you walk out of your class, eyeing one of the classmates you've been talking to while he was waiting for you in the hallways. "what a creature,"

"creature?" you repeat his words in disbelief, even though it's not really unusual for him to say that. "riki, that's my classmate. he was giving me yesterday's notes,"

"yeah, he's still ugly," he shakes his head, scoffing, grabbing one of your hands while sliding the other in the pocket of his pants.

you simply laugh at his words as you both get downstairs, a few students passing by you two, rushing towards the school exit. "you look stupid when you're jealous,"

"jealous? me?" he scoffs yet again, a prideful grin on his face as he stops in his tracks, looking at you. "you have quite an imagination,"

"what i have is a jealous boyfriend who sucks at lying,"

and who even is he kidding, because both of you know he's the more jealous one between the two of you. about the lying part. . .he's not too sure. "well, at least i look better than him, don't i?"

you nod, tip toeing slightly to kiss his cheeks, still holding his hands in the process. "the best,"

[incognit0slut]

Ok two words:

shower sex…multiple 🤭

(that’s more than two words but you get the point)

(18+) fem reader. 1.6 k. Fingering. Shower sex.

Your idea of showering together to save time doesn’t work out as you planned.

-

"What are you doing?" Spencer shrieked as you joined him in the shower out of nowhere. He was enjoying his moment of peace when you suddenly barged in, completely naked.

"This is your fault!" You snapped, letting the water wash over you, facing away from him. "You should've woken me up."

He sighed. "I did try, you didn't even move."

"Well, you should've tried harder," you shot back.

Spencer took a step back, his gaze fixed on the tiled wall. Despite the crazy, kinky sex you had in the bedroom, he couldn't shake the discomfort of showering together. For him, it was a private time for self-cleaning, and the thought of you watching him wash away all the dirt off his body made him feel oddly self-conscious.

You always told him that he didn't need to feel that way, that you were his partner, and you've already seen each other at your worst. Though he was still persistent and there was nothing you could do but to respect his boundaries.

But now, as he stole a glance at you, he realized he had been too preoccupied with his discomfort and insecurity to even consider how you would look under the flow of water.

Or how much it affected him.

Because it was affecting him so, so much. He could feel a wave of heat surging through him to his lower body. The water flowed effortlessly over your curves as you began to lather soap onto your skin, and unable to resist any longer, he moved closer, his hand naturally finding its way down your back.

"You missed a spot," he breathed out, his voice lower than he intended. You turned to him with a smile, unaware of the effect you had on him.

"Thanks, baby," you replied, the innocence in your tone contrasting with the sudden tension in the air. His breath hitched as he unconsciously licked his lips, his hands exploring your slippery skin with a sense of urgency. His palm traced the curve of your waist before boldly circling around to your front.

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as his hand came dangerously close to the lower curve of your breasts.

"...Spence?"

Without a word, his palms brushed over your breasts, cupping them with a mixture of firmness and tenderness that sent a shiver down your spine. Your body responded involuntarily, your nipples hardening under his touch, leaving you speechless.

You had always respected his boundaries, never wanting to invade his personal space in the bathroom. But this morning was different; you had overslept, and in your rush, you assumed he wouldn't mind if you barged in, even if it meant facing away from him to give him some privacy.

Although having his hands explore your body was the last thing you expected, and when you felt him inching closer, his arousal pressing against your back, you swiftly turned around.

"Nope. Nuh-uh," you said firmly, attempting to give him your best glare, but his semi-hard cock was undeniably distracting. "This is not the time."

His fingers continued to trace your wet stomach, causing you to shiver at his touch. "Why not?"

"B-Because," you stammered, your breath catching as his fingers edged closer between your thighs. "I'm already late."

"Exactly," he countered. "You're already late anyway."

The water fell around your body, washing away the suds as his fingertips slipped between your folds, and despite the water, he could feel the slickness of your arousal coating his skin.

You gasped at the sudden contact, feeling a surge of pleasure shoot through you. Your eyes fluttered shut as he dipped just the tip of his middle finger inside your warmth, savoring the wetness that coated his finger before tracing a path up to your clit. A breathy moan escaped your lips.

"I-I thought you don't like showering together," you managed to say.

His lips curved into a smile. "I'm beginning to see the appeal."

Your body slumped against the wall as he applied more pressure to your clit, pleasuring you with slow, deliberate circles. "Baby..." you breathed out, your mind clouded with desire even as you tried to focus on the time. "I'm late for work."

"I know," He murmured. "That's why I'm helping you clean up."

"I-I really need to get to work."

"And you will," he assured you. "But I need you to spread your legs first. Got to clean all the spots."

You hesitated for a moment, but with a shaky exhale, you finally complied, parting your legs as he requested, giving him access to every inch of your skin. Your head fell back against the wall, a soft moan escaping your lips as you struggled to maintain your composure when his finger slipped into your heat.

Your hand instinctively reached out, gripping around his wrist as he began to pump his digit inside your dripping walls. A gasp escaped your lips at the sensation of him filling you, and he couldn't help but let out a low groan of pleasure at how tight you were clenching around him.

"Oh god," you moaned, feeling him quickening his pace. The sound of your wetness mingling with the rushing water enveloped you both, drowning out any thoughts of being late for work. All that mattered was the sensation of his hand between your thighs, driving you closer to the edge.

Then, to your disappointment, he suddenly pulled back and you whimpered at the loss, but before you could protest, he pulled your thigh up to rest on his hip before gripping himself in his hand. You bit your bottom lip, your body trembling with desire as he pumped a few times, while he positioned himself at your soaked entrance. 

Every nerve in your body hummed with anticipation as the tip of him slipped inside your warmth. His lips met yours in a passionate kiss as he began easing himself further in, inch by inch, and you couldn't suppress the moan against his mouth upon feeling him stretching you.

He sank himself all the way inside your heat, giving you a moment to adjust as he ran his tongue over your bottom lip, coaxing a soft sigh from you before slipping inside to caress yours. Then you felt his hips begin to move with light, sensual motions, with one hand gripping your thigh firmly, as the other held your body against the wall by your hip.

“Tell me how that feels,” he encouraged you, nipping at your lips between words and taking his time with his pace, and suddenly you didn’t care you were supposed to be in a rush. 

“So... so good,” you whimpered breathlessly, feeling him slowly draw his hips away, only to glide back in even slower. He repeated the motion as if he wanted to etch into his memory the way your walls tightened around him with every thrust, as if he wanted to keep in his mind forever the way your lips parted as moans filled his ears.

You held onto his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin and he could sense your desperation as he quickened his pace. His hand then slipped between your thighs, his thumb finding your clit before rubbing gentle circles around it.

You let out a filthy cry.

He pumped into you even harder, the rhythm of his thrusts becoming more frantic as he lost himself in the pleasure all the while his thumb worked your clit even faster, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your body. The sensations overwhelmed you, and your legs began to shake with the sheer intensity of it all.

"Yes—fuck," you moaned, your voice a desperate plea for more. 

"You feel so good," he groaned out the words, his mouth inches away from yours, his breath hot against your skin as his hips continued to move in perfect rhythm with yours. "God, I love you."

Just as you were about to reply, the overwhelming pleasure consumed you as your jaw slackened, unable to form words as pleasure coursed through your veins, causing your legs to twitch uncontrollably. You whined, lost as the sensation consumed you, but soon, it became too much to bear and you tiredly pushed his hand away.

Watching you come undone around him was just enough to push him over the edge. He held your body close, still thrusting into you, the rhythm of his movements matching the frantic beat of his heart. With a final, exhilarating surge, he tilted his head back in pure bliss, his body trembling as he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure of release.

He exhaled a sigh of relief as his heartbeat gradually subsided, finally pulling out of you to leave you feeling empty, shaking, and still holding onto him for support. The water had grown cold, beating against your skin and causing you to shiver against his chest. Sensing your discomfort, he turned the faucet, shutting off the shower.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his eyes filled with concern as he looked at you, making sure you didn’t slip against the slick tiles.

You nodded your head, offering him a small, reassuring smile. "Yeah," you assured him, placing your leg back on the ground. "You're a bad influence, you know that?"

He chuckled, the sound echoing in the now quiet bathroom. "I'll take that as a compliment," he replied as he reached out to wrap his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest.

You nestled into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours. "It's not," you countered, looking up at him. "I'm too late now, I think I have to call in sick."

He tilted his head and held your gaze. "What if I call in sick too?"

A smile tugged at your lips as you considered his suggestion. "That could work," you said, the idea of spending the day together sounding more appealing by the second. You pulled him in for a kiss. "That could definitely work."

[watchmegetobsessed]

MAD MAN

A/N: he looked like a snack, his ce vibes were too strong to hold them back

base of the idea was by @harrysblackcoat

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SUMMARY: You came to the game to forget about the massive fight you had with Harry a few days ago, but your alone time is soon interrupted by the man you've been trying to avoid.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You weren’t planning to come today. Well, you were, until about four days ago, but then the whole ordeal happened with Harry and suddenly you didn’t want to do anything else than stay at home, cry or either sleep until you forget about the shit you both said. 

It was nasty. You don’t even remember how it started, maybe it was because he got home too late, or was it because you couldn’t choose a restaurant again and it always drives him crazy.

You have no idea what started it, you only remember how bad it got. Screaming, shouting, saying the worst things you ever did and probably neither of you meant. But you said them and you can’t take them back. 

Maybe packing your stuff and leaving wasn’t your best idea, but you needed time and space. Harry has been blowing your phone up ever since, but you feel like you need just a little bit more time away from him to think about… well, the two of you. 

You’ve had the ticket for months and you didn’t have the heart to miss out on the game just because of what happened. So you pulled yourself out of your depression cave, aka your old apartment you still haven’t sold since moving in with Harry and came to the game. Now you’re sitting in your usual seat, waiting for it to start while trying your best to keep him out of your thoughts at least until the end. 

Looking across the stadium you see the VIP section and immediately, you fail at not thinking about him, because you think of how he is the kind of man that would be standing there, sipping on something fancy and expensive. 

Groaning you turn your attention to your drink, playing with the straw, but then you remember the time you explained to Harry why this is your favorite seat in the stadium.

“Okay, enlighten me, baby,” he smirked at you, pulling you to his lap after pushing himself away from his desk.

“It’s close to the exit, I can leave before the crowd gets moving, the toilet is 20 seconds away and the line is always short, because the one by the F stairs is more popular. And…” You peaked at him, checking if he was still listening and there he was, giving you his undivided attention with a cheesy smirk on his handsome face. “And the drinks are better in the buffet that’s behind.”

“Better?” he chuckled. “Baby, they are the same.”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “It’s less… watery.”

“Mm, if you say so,” he smirked and then kissed you, making you forget about what you were talking about just a moment ago.

You need to blink your tears away. You promised yourself you wouldn’t be crying during this game, that you wouldn’t think about how much you miss him and how even despite the fight you love him more than anyone. 

You dig into your bag for a tissue, right when someone tries to squeeze past you to their seat. The tall man inches into the row, his long coat brushing your knees while you’re still elbow deep in your bag and you faintly register that he sits beside you. 

“Here,” he deep voice speaks up beside you and you know who it is even before his hand moves into your view, holding out a tissue. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, taking the tissue without looking at him. 

“Why do people come to football matches?” he asks back and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “I’m here because you wouldn’t answer the phone.”

“That might mean that I don’t want to talk to you,” you casually reply, staring ahead of you.

Harry exhales sharply beside you and his knee presses against yours, making you gasp.

“Y/N, I hope you didn’t think I would just let you slip out of my hands like that, right? We need to talk.”

“And you thought a football game would be the best place for that?” 

“This seems to be the only way to get you to talk to me, so yeah.”

“How did you even know I would be sitting here?”

“Because you told me this is your favorite seat.”

“I did not. I just told you I have one, I never told you it’s this one.”

You sit in silence for a bit, trying to figure out if maybe you did tell him the exact seat, but you get to the same point: you didn’t.

“I never told you, so how did you know?” you ask and finally look at him. His beauty strikes you, as always, the chiseled jawline, the slope of his nose, the curly lashes, he still takes your breath away. 

He runs his tongue across his lips and then looks at you.

“The drink,” he then finally says.

“What?”

“The drink. It really is better here.” You watch him and he continues. “I tried… I tried them all in the stadium and it really is less watery.”

He tried them all. He went around the stadium and tried them all to figure out where you’re sitting. 

“Now that you’re listening to me, can we talk?” he then asks with a soft smile. “Or it could be just me speaking, but I really want to tell you what I’ve been thinking about the past few days.”

“Okay,” you breathe out. “Talk then.”

His gaze lingers on your face, as if he is taking in every tiny detail before speaking up again.

“I fucked up, Y/N. I said all those terrible things in the heat of the moment and I regretted them right away. I didn’t mean any of them.”

“Not even when you said that all I do is get on your nerves?” you find yourself asking.

“You do get on my nerves, Y/N,” he says and you’re just about to open your mouth, but he is quick to continue. “You make me go crazy in the best way possible. With your silly dancing in the kitchen, the way you sing every song with the wrong lyrics and swear your version is the right. When you get mad at me for using words you don’t know the meaning of, or when you put me in my place when I’m being a total ass… you make me go crazy… for you.”

Your eyes are tearing up again and when his hand moves to your knee you lean closer to him, wanting more of his touch instantly. 

“I love you, Y/N. I never thought I could love someone this much, but you just always prove me wrong,” he chuckles softly and your hand finds his on your leg, your fingers locking together. “Please come back. I’m nothing without you. Come back and get on my nerves every day because I want to be a mad man, but only if it’s you who makes me crazy.”

Now you’re fighting the urge to cry like a baby. You love this man and you can’t imagine a day when you won’t. 

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks. He reaches up and wipes them with his thumb. “I didn’t mean it when I said you must be fucking all your assistants at work.”

“That hurt,” he smiles bitterly.

“I just… I still wonder why you chose me,” you admit with a shrug. 

“Because you’re the one for me,” he simply answers, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. You take a deep breath and exhale it shakily before leaning in and kissing him. The game starts right when your lips meet, but all the screaming and clapping tunes out as you’re back in the arms of the man you love. 

“Do you want to move to the VIP section?” you ask. 

“Nope,” he smirks down at you. “This really is the best seat.”

“See? I told you!” chuckling, you just pull him in for another kiss before making yourself comfortable with his arm around your shoulders.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[riality-check]

DILF!Steve concert saga, featuring Eddie POV for this part! part 1, part 2

"I have to open it."

"Nope."

"Gareth. I need to open it."

"The vault is sacred," Archie says.

At the same time, Jeff chimes in, "The vault was your idea, Eddie."

Eddie thunks his head against the wall. "I know. But I need-"

"They're on the last song," Archie says, putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder. It's probably meant to be comforting, but it feels patronizing as shit.

Eddie is a good friend, though. He doesn't shrug him off.

"Once they're through, I'll unlock it," Jeff says, dangling the key slung around his neck.

"But you could do it now," Eddie protests.

Gareth sits protectively on top of the black lock box. "Absolutely not."

Eddie sighs and waits for the guitar solo onstage to end, nodding his head along to the beat.

It's what he usually does when they're backstage, but this time, it brings a smile to his face. Miss Anna was a natural yesterday for her first time headbanging, and her dad is the reason Eddie wants to break the sacred vault tradition.

He wants, no, needs to know if he got the note. If he decided to write something. If he wants to go a little further than PG flirting.

Eddie for sure wants to go further than that. God. Steve's handsome face and his big hands and his thick thighs (deliciously exposed by his shorts in the summer heat) are all wonderful incentives to skip a few steps and go straight to ramming him into a mattress.

Or, with how that shirt clung to Steve's biceps and how his shorts clung to his ass, let him ram Eddie into the mattress. He isn't picky.

(He isn't desperate, either, thank you very much, Gareth. And no, he won't admit how long it's been since he got laid.)

From the house, the audience roars, and Eddie jumps off the arm of the couch he was laying on.

Gareth sighs and gets off the lock box.

"Jeff, open it," Eddie says, staring at the vault and subconsciously making grabby hands toward it.

"Is that how we ask?"

"I could always yank the key off you."

Archie sighs and, ever the peacemaker, takes the key from Jeff and unlocks the vault. The second it's open, Eddie snatches his phone and turns it on.

Please please please let the DILF text back, he thinks to himself as he waits for this stupid metal brick to turn on and give him a resolution to this whole ridiculous situation.

Because, first, Eddie doesn't really jive with kids. Sure, they flock to him in the same way they flock to every other vaguely cool-looking person, but aside from asking if he has to draw his tattoos on every day or if his mommy is okay with him having his hair that long, they generally leave him alone.

And that's okay. Eddie easily made his peace with not having kids about ten years ago. Between his strong preference for men and the way that significantly decreases those odds and the choice to not pass on his truly abysmal family history of mental illness and addiction, it seemed obvious and a lot more selfless.

But Anna was cool as hell. Smart as hell, too, in a way that made Eddie feel like he was looking back at a time before school punished him for being bright and verbose and energetic.

Anna didn't make him want kids. Again, the whole family history thing is a real vibe killer. But she did give him enough fuel, for just an instant, to think that dating someone with a kid might not be a deal breaker anymore.

Or maybe Steve was just that hot.

He whined a lot yesterday, in the hotel, about how hot Steve was.

His phone turns on, and, front and center, is a text from an unknown number:

I guess I don’t have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we’re even on that front, I’m a teacher, and Anna’s full time job is preschool.

Eddie grins so hard he feels like his face will split in two.

"Is it him?" Jeff asks, trying to look over Eddie's shoulder.

"Of course it is," Gareth scoffs. "Look at his face."

"What did he say?" Archie asks.

Eddie takes the easier way out and lets him have the phone.

Gareth and Jeff crowd over Archie's shoulders, and Eddie watches their faces change as they read the message.

"Oh, he's bitchy," Gareth says.

"That means he's perfect," Jeff says, with a pointed look at Eddie.

Eddie shoots Archie a clear "back me up" look and gets a shrug in return because all his friends are assholes who know his type way too fucking well.

"What do I say?" he asks.

Archie tosses him the phone. "I don't know. Flirt back."

"I don't know how!"

"You ground against a guitar-"

"And kissed me onstage," Jeff continues. "But you don't know how to flirt?"

Eddie puts his head in his hands. "I didn't have enough sex in high school to know how to do this!"

"That's not an excuse when none of us did!" Gareth says.

Jeff barks out a laugh.

"Just ask if he's free tomorrow," Archie says, like the rational, wonderful friend he is. "This was the last stop of tour. It's not like you have to get anywhere else at a specific time."

"Okay. Okay, yeah, I can do that," Eddie says, hyping himself up. Before he can second guess himself, he writes back.

Since it's summer, I'm assuming you both have off. Can you fit it in your busy schedule to have dinner with a humble musician tomorrow night?

"Oh, shit, did you send it?" Gareth asks, snatching his phone.

"Wait," Archie says, like the rational, horrible friend he is. "Do we know if he's single?"

"Oh, shit," Jeff whispers.

Eddie takes his phone back and refuses to look at it. He wants to shut it down. He wants to drop it. He wants to drive to nearest river and throw it there.

"Am I a homewrecker?" he asks absently.

"Only if you succeed," Jeff says.

"He might have a wife," Archie muses. "He might be straight."

"Okay, dude, enough," Gareth says. "This was supposed to be exciting! Eddie was supposed to get ass!"

"He might be ace."

"Archie, shut the fuck up."

He holds his hands up in surrender, and Jeff pats his shoulder, a little comfortingly, a lot condescendingly.

Eddie sits down on the couch. Puts his head in his hands. Breathes.

He's flirting with a married man. He's absolutely flirting with a married man. This is a new low. This is worse than the time he licked the floor of a restaurant, drunk, for five bucks. This is worse than when he greened out in the parking lot of a Chuck E. Cheese. This is worse than when he accidentally told the gas station cashier that he loved them and immediately walked into the glass door behind him.

This is. So bad.

And then his phone rings, so it'll get worse. It has to. That's how these things go.

Eddie has always been self-destructive, so, of course, he looks at the screen.

I can't swing dinner, but how's lunch? Fair warning: it might be a playground picnic if my babysitter bails.

"Holy shit, I'm not a homewrecker," Eddie says.

"I didn't think you had it in you," Jeff says.

"He's single!" Gareth cheers.

"Can I talk now?" Archie teases.

"I'm not a homewrecker!" Eddie says, and he launches off the couch to hug the nearest person, who happens to be Jeff.

They have to get out of the venue. He has to figure out the logistics of the date and how to be normal by the time he gets there and what to wear and everything else.

But, right now, Eddie is over the fucking moon that Steve is even giving him a shot. And he hopes, giddy as all hell and hanging off of Jeff's shoulders, that Steve feels even a little bit like this.

He writes back, once he's calmed down:

Lunch might just become my new favorite meal.

[mystellenia]

passionate sex with abby ୨ৎ

summary: you and abby spend the night enjoying each other, sharing a passionate moment.

content: fingering (r receiving), praise, abby literally worshipping you, strap on sex

notes: answer to this req!! can someone get me a shirt that says "baby's 1st strap fic!" this was surprisingly fluffier than i intended but i’m not mad. if there are any typos or grammar mistakes, let me know please! i will never consistently proof read <3 prob like 20% of my work is proof read if i’m feeling quite Professional

(wc 1.6k)

"are you asleep?" abby softly whispered into your hair, careful to not disturb you if you had fallen asleep. 

the two of you lay on the couch watching a black and white film flicker across the tv screen, a king-sized blanket bunched around your waist. your arms tuck further into your chest, pulling the blanket up a little higher to your waist. 

abby's large hands splayed across your lower back—not drawing little shapes, not tracing your skin, just feeling. she was always touching you, whether it was your fingers laced between hers or just her arm pressed against your side. she'd always say that you grounded her, that just being with you could calm her down from the highest of stresses. 

you slightly shake your head, responding to her question. "nope." 

"do you still wanna watch the movie?" 

you shake your head again. "nope."

turning your head to look up at her from where your chin rested on her chest, you kiss her quickly on her cheek. "let's go to bed." 

she doesn't respond, just smooths your hair back with her hand and scoots out from under you, grabbing your hand to lead you to the bedroom. she leaves your dishes behind—a bowl, two empty mugs, and a cookie wrapper sit still on the coffee table, frozen and forgotten by the two of you as you walk down the hall. 

abby heads to the bathroom and loads up her toothbrush, and you change from your heavy sweatshirt and pajama pants to one of abby's simple, large t-shirts. you take your hair out of its bun and hear a chuckle from behind you, so you turn and see abby smiling and watching you, her foamy toothbrush hanging from her lips. 

you take your hair tie out and set it on your side of the bed. "what?" you ask, to which she just shakes her head and returns her gaze to the mirror in front of her. you walk towards her in front of the sink, looking at her reflection. her eyes drop down towards her shirt on you, and she laughs again, quickly leaning into the sink to spit her toothpaste out. 

"what!" you smile, tilting your head at her eyes dancing across your face. she takes her time with finishing, leisurely swirling water in her mouth. she finally spits, drying her mouth with a hand towel and saying, "you're swimming in that shirt." 

you reflexively look down at it, smoothing it down your body. "it's not even that big on me—it barely goes past my mid-thigh." 

"if you say so," she chuckles, leaning in for a kiss. her lips move slowly over yours, taking her time in savoring your taste.  

your lips part, and she turns towards the mirror to set the towel down with a dreamy smile slowly spreading across her lips, her blinks slow and partial. you lean against the doorframe with that same dreamy smile until you move back towards her, your hand moving to her shoulder. 

abby is the one who deepens the kiss, tilting your head back to push her tongue inside your mouth and humming against your lips. the bathroom counter digs into your butt, and your knees almost buckle at her unhurried kisses. 

both of her hands lift up to your head, grabbing each of your cheeks and pulling back to look at you. her eyes look more black than blue, her blown pupils swallowing up the silvery rings of her eyes.  

she turns your back towards the doorway and begins walking you backwards to the bed, the mattress hitting the back of your thighs and folding you onto the duvet, your kiss never breaking once. your legs immediately wrap around her hips, ankles locking on the backs of her toned thighs.  

her fingers snake under your shirt, swiping her thumbs over your belly and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. she parts from your lips for air, and you both break out in a fit of giggles. 

you calm down and stare into her eyes, hurrying up to her face and dotting kisses all over her face, making her laugh even more.  

abby turns her head away to escape your assault of kisses, and you still once she does. "i love you," she lowly says, her eyes lazily looking into yours. 

"i love you, too," you whisper back. you feel your cheeks heating, so you cover them with your hands to cool them down. 

"aww," abby sweetly coos, "you shy?" 

"i have a crush on you," you say seriously, smiling when she laughs at the absurdity of your statement. 

"well, shit, i sure hope so," she jokes and lowers herself, kissing you long and soft. 

like an unspoken agreement, abby pulls back as you sit up and you both start removing your clothes, one by one, holding eye contact the entire time. the intimacy of it all crashes over you, and you'd drown a hundred times over if it meant you could freeze this moment in time, pause it and restart whenever you choose. 

you lay on your back and abby crawls over you, sucking the skin of your neck and making your squirm. you reach to thread your fingers through her hair, but your fingers are stopped by the braid in her hair, now loose and frayed from being in all day. unfastening the rubber band at the tail, you comb your fingers through the braid and undo it piece by piece. once her hair is fully free, you scratch at her scalp, restless from her tongue moving on your skin. 

with no warning at all, abby dips her hand into your underwear, tracing a feathery swipe through your folds. obviously, you jump, your nails digging crescents into her shoulders. 

she gradually pushes her finger inside you, and you throw your head back with a groan, your legs opening unconsciously. she finds a slow and teasing pace, her thumb mirroring it while she rubs tight circles on your clit. 

abby never breaks eye contact, watching you the whole time and how your face screws tighter in pleasure, listening to your closed-lip moans start to spill through your mouth. she never speeds up, though, and the pace is too slow to finish. 

"abby... come on," you plead, trying to keep your eyes open long enough to look at her. 

"yeah? tell me what you want and i'll do it," she pants, looking at you and begging for an order, for another way to make you feel good. 

just one of her thick fingers can push you closer to the edge, but it's still not enough. your cheeks warm, but you find the words to say, "i need you. right now, abby." 

not a second passes before she's pulling out of you and leaning over to the side of the bed, lifting herself back up with a black strap in her hand. at six inches, it was a perfect fit for you—not too small, not too big—and for abby—comfortably sitting against her core. 

wasting no time, she slides the tip up and down your cunt, lathering it in your slick before pushing her hips forward and sliding in, inch by inch. she hovers close above your face, observing every twitch in your body. her own jaw is dropped all the way, her lids low as she uncontrollably bucks her hips and pushes the last of the strap in. a guttural groan falls from her lips as if she was holding her breath the whole time, a whiney breath followed by a hushed curse coming from you. 

she drops to her forearms, her hand moving to thread through your hair and cradle the back of your head. when you start to squirm, she pulls out almost all the way and smoothly pushes back in. finding a steady rhythm, her hips tenderly pump into yours, hypnotized by your little noises and how your hair splayed around your face in a halo. 

this was exactly why abby preferred missionary, but right now her pleasure takes over and makes her forget everything but you as her head falls into your shoulder, her hand tensing around the nape of your neck. 

"i" —she struggles to get out— "am so lucky to have you. god, i'm so glad you're mine." she continues breathing praises into your ear, your huffs getting louder and her breaths becoming more labored. 

she feels your legs trying to lock around her torso, and she pulls back to watch your face as she always does. "look at me, look at me," she rushes out, trying to catch you before your orgasm. 

you pry your eyes open and pull her forehead to yours. "together, please." 

"i know, i know. just..." she trails off, trying to focus, her hips suddenly jerking with her orgasm.

as if on the same wavelength, you cum a second after her, you two sloppily kissing and moaning into the other's mouth. you both twitch and spasm, the sheets damp with sweat and slick. 

after taking a minute to catch her breath, abby pulls out, wincing at the strap's base kissing her puffy clit. she quickly takes it off and lays down next to you, you immediately curling up to her. 

she rubs her hand on your arm, quietly murmuring, "good night, pretty girl," and pulling the sheets up, rubbing your skin until you fall asleep. 

@picklesarenice69 hi queen

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

[tb3ih]

worst husband ever! ⨳ gojo satoru

[ HUSBAND!satoru can't resist his lover ] | sfw + suggestion!

YOU awake tangled in between silk sheets and the long limbs of another slumbering body. Your eyes follow the ivory clouds which play tag along the beautiful, cerulean horizon of the morning sky. The peace and quiet settles into the marrows of your bones and you let out a sigh.

Beside you, there’s gentle snoring resonating from the male you share the bed with, his plush lips fairer than rose quartz as they puff with each breath. Turning on your side, your eyes trail up the bare of his toned back to the head of messy, white locks. You had never seen the almighty Gojo Satoru look so relaxed other than when he was snuggled in bed with you, one arm hooked around your waist and the other underneath his pillow. 

Careful as not to wake him, you do your best to sit up, teeth catching the inside of your lip as you feel the pain spike from your lower back. Across the room was a mirror, positioned perfectly to allow you a clear view of the scarlet which danced across your upper body in splotches. 

You curse, picking up your pillow before slamming it down on your lover’s head.

Asshole.

Gojo stirred with a hiss, a curse leaving his once peaceful lips as he’s pulled from his slumber and forced to endure the morning. He turned on his side, propping himself up on his side with an incredulous look on his face, white sheets slipping just enough to tease the light with the sculpted lines of his torso. “What’d I do?!”

“What didn’t you do?” You bring a hand to flick a finger against his temple, only for him to grab it and take the opportunity to pin you on your back, something viciously mischievous glinting in his beautiful azure irises. “Satoru!”

One hand pressed against the mattress next to your head and the other bringing your hand to his lips, he pressed a whisper of a kiss to the smooth skin. “That’s the name, love.”

Your eyes narrow, his childish antics something you had gotten accustomed to. Using your free-hand, you pinch his side, taking the opportunity when he yelps in pain to flip him over and straddle his waist. You grab his jaw, forcing the male to take you seriously, despite the playful tug at his lips. “It’s late, we should be up by now,” you assert, “I want to explore the island while we still have daylight.” 

“And what does that have to do with me?” Gojo’s expression is still playful and you take the pillow to smack in his face one more time, which he blocks, leaving you flustered and frustrated. You roll off of him, leaving his laughing figure alone in the bed. “Wait, Y/n–”

You take his t-shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the room. “Nope, I won’t hear it.” The bathroom door slides and you pull it open, revealing a large tub and shower space. There are hurried footsteps behind you but the door slides shut before your husband can make it through. 

The sound stills from the other side of the door, a quiet knocking resonating as Gojo attempts to greet you. “Love, let me in, please?”

Silence. 

“Please?”

You wait a beat, silently cursing yourself for giving in the way you do, the way you always do. 

His eyes are pleading, pseudo-hurt written in blue when hsi gaze meets yours. His lips are twisted in a pout. “Y/n…”

“Satoru.” You raise a brow, the look you return him expectant and unsurprised. 

“Oh Y/n! My sweet, precious, beautiful, lovely–”

You grab him by the neck, pulling through the doorway into the bathroom with you. “Shut up before I change my mind.”

Gojo gasps dramatically, acting as if you’d ripped out his heart with your bare hands. He cries out, whining about how cruel you are to which you simply roll your eyes, hand on his chest to push him back into the shower. 

The water is warm when it hits the two of you, lacing itself between your two silhouettes and settling in every space your bodies don’t occupy together. His lips on your neck have every cell in your body sighing in content and the thoughts in your brain melting down the drain with the shower water. 

It was never a dull day with Gojo Satoru.

© tb3ih mmxxiv all rights reserved.

[grandlinedreams]

|| notes: because I think this trope is always hilarious and also very cute

|| warnings: the Inner Circle (Mor and Cass) being nosy, fluff, Az and reader being silly and cute, alcohol mention

"You've been spending an awful lot of time with Azriel lately."

Looking up from the book you've been reading, you meet Mor's questioning look with one of confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No," Mor protests, "I was just wondering."

You raise an eyebrow, eyeing her. There's an edge to her tone that you're not sure that you like, as if she's trying to get you to admit to something. "He's my friend," you say slowly, "and I like spending time with my friends."

Mor hums. "That's fair," she says, then drums her fingers on the table. "Speaking of friends, we're friends, right?"

"Of course," you agree. Where is she going with this? Had you done something to make her doubt your friendship?

Mor watches you carefully, weighing her words before she says them. "And you'd tell me if you were interested in anyone, right? Romantically, I mean."

The look you give her is equal parts suspicion and befuddlement. "Probably? Mor, what is this about?"

"Nothing, nothing," she reassures you hurriedly. "Listen, we're going to Rita's tonight. As in me, Cass, Nes, and Azriel." She pauses. "I think he'd like it if you went with us."

You close your book. "I'll go," you say, and Mor beams. "But what does Az wanting me there have to do with—"

"Great!" Mor chirps, pulling away. "We'll be leaving at eight!"

And then she's gone, leaving you more bewildered than you've ever been.

Your friends are up to something. You know that they are, considering Mor's behavior from earlier, and now their (Mor, and now Cassian) insistence that you sit next to Azriel in the booth.

"I can't pick my seat?" You ask, and Cassian shakes his head.

"Nope," he grins, and you throw Nesta a pleading look that she answers with one of quiet amusement.

"Okay..." Not that you truly mind sitting next to the spymaster, but it's made strange for the way Mor and Cassian are watching the two of you and sharing looks you're sure they think are subtle.

"[Name] looks nice," Mor prompts after a while, "right, Az?"

You blink as Azriel turns towards you, and the slow sweep of his eyes over you makes your cheeks warm more than the alcohol does.

"Yes," he says quietly, and your lips quirk when you catch his eye before you turn back towards your drink. Whatever it is that Cassian and Mor are looking for or trying to incite, you're not sure, but you don't miss the look of frustrated confusion the pair share.

Cassian rallies himself for another attempt at whatever it is they're up to, and you cut him off. "I think I'm going to head back," you say, apologetic smile tugging at your lips. "I'm tired."

Mor looks like she's going to protest, only to stop when Azriel moves to follow you when you slip from the booth. "I'll come with you."

You don't protest, but you also catch the pleased look Cassian and Mor share before you step out of Rita's. The night air is a little cooler than expected and when you shiver, Azriel steps closer. "Cold?"

"A little," you admit, and you don't protest the wrap of his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer.

Once you're far enough away from Rita's, Azriel speaks again. "Cassian is convinced that I have feelings for you."

You look up at him, finding him watching you already, coming to a halt. "And?" You prompt, raising an eyebrow, "do you?"

Azriel's eyes gleam with amusement as he leans down, meeting the answering upward tip of your head so he can kiss you. It's sweet and familiar, and you press to make it linger a little longer before he pulls away. "I think you know the answer to that."

"I do," you grin. "How long do you think it'll take them to realize that we're already together?"

Azriel snorts. "Longer than you think, honestly." He tugs you to him, enveloping you in his arms to ward off the chill of night. "I take it that you have feelings for me too?"

You huff a laugh, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I think you know the answer to that," you answer.

Azriel's lips meet the top of your head. "I do."

[coco-loco-nut]

Miss Americana

Pairing: Lando Norris x American!Reader

Summary: Moments with Lando and his silly, American, girlfriend

TW: AMERICA! RAHH🦅

a/n: i wrote this super quick bc the ideas were bombarding me at work and it is not proofread. it’s also silly and stupid as an apology for my last oneshot which seemed to break y’all.

requests are open! masterlist part two

—————————————————

Lando didn’t mind you were American, in fact, that might be why he loved you. You poked fun at his britishness, even trying to copy his accent. It’s almost like a joke with you two.

“Baby, where are you?” Lando whines from his gaming chair, needing attention, having texted you a minute ago asking you for cuddles.

“I’m declaring my independence!” You yell back, your voice coming from outside. He pauses his game and trudges towards your voice. The two of you are spending time in your American residence, near Miami. He spots you near the pool, holding something out.

“Baby, what are you doing?” He spots your camera recording.

“Happy December 16th!” You grin, dropping a box of tea into the pool. Lando’s brows furrow, thinking back to the book he read about the Revolutionary War. Needing to have some sort of reference for your jokes, he bought a book with the basics to read on the flights to races.

“Oh… I get it. Babe, we aren’t even IN Boston,” Lando says after a minute, and after you start laughing, he does too. Lando quickly grabs your phone and pushes you in the water too.

“Rude,” you huff, grabbing the tea box and climbing out of the pool. If it weren’t for your grin, Lando would be running away. You grab your phone and Logan pops out from behind the bushes as Lando’s phone dings.

“Wait, I thought you were recording,” Lando says, his eyes narrowing at Logan.

“Nope,” you pop the p and walk inside, the video quickly going viral and spreading around the drivers group chats. Logan makes his quick escape, leaving Lando to wonder why he agreed to associate with Americans.

———

“GO GO GO GO! YES! TOUCHDOWN!” You yell, seemingly oblivious to the cold. Lando surprised you with a trip to your alma mater’s biggest football game of the season. He asked Logan for help with the surprise, but the Floridian didn’t mention, well, how much of a cult the school was.

“Logan said it was going to be cold, but not this cold,” Lando grumbles, taking a cute pic of you cheering.

“Babe, he has terrible taste in schools, why would you take his advice? Also, this is the northeast, it’s obviously going to be way colder than Austin will be next week,” You snort before joining in on a chant. Lando was only slightly regretting choosing seats right beside the student section, however, he could get behind the drinking. Especially tailgating. When you drug him out of his nice warm bed to hang outside the stadium at 9am with your old college friends, he was skeptical. All it took was one freshly grilled meal and a beer to turn that around. He is planning on creating an American tailgate for the race next week in Austin.

“American universities are... something else,” Lando smiles at you. Seeing as you are only one year removed from college, you had plans for the weekend.

“Just wait until we go to the bars later. Oh! And the frat party tomorrow, it’s family weekend and my cousin is getting us in,” you smile back at him. It was indeed a long, drunk, weekend, but Lando couldn’t help but admit that he would be more than happy to come back for more games throughout the year.

———

Austin was something else the next weekend. You and Logan were quick to jump on board with Lando’s idea for a tailgate, and you all gathered at the Airbnb that you rented the night before the race, right after qualifying. The team’s socials loved the idea as well as the Formula One social media team, so you paid for nothing as the drivers and friends gathered at the Airbnb for your and Logan’s tailgate. You made sure there were multiple coolers full of alcohol, soda, and water while Logan manned the grill. You wore a NFL football jersey while Logan repped a Miami Dolphins jersey.

“Why are those two arguing,” Max asks Lando, observing you and Logan fight about whose team is better.

“Either college football or pro football,”

“American football, mate,” George says, standing on the other side of Max.

“All I’m saying is that you have TERRIBLE taste in teams!” You huff in Logan’s direction. He rolls his eyes, turning his focus to the grill as you grab a beer. Lando, who is sporting your alma mater’s football jersey, walks over to the two of you.

“She’s not wrong, Logan,” Lando chuckles as the blonde boy throws his arms up in the air in frustration. Honestly, the only thing that can top the bickering between the both of you is when you pull out the jell-o shots and people start grabbing food.

Half an hour later, you turn on the projector to the screen, a Disney logo behind you. You take position in front of the screen, remote in hand as a microphone. The crowd turns their attention to you. Lando’s lips twitch up in amusement.

“I just got three things to say. God bless our troops. God bless America. AND GENTLEMEN. START YOUR ENGINES!” You yell as you hit play on the remote.

“Okay, focus. Speed. I. Am. Speed.” The voice says over the screen. You and Logan decided to culture everyone, making the end of the tailgate partly a movie night. Eventually, everyone finds a seat in the lawn chairs scattered in front of the screen. Lando grabs your hand and kisses the back of it when you sit down.

“I love you, y/n,” he smiles softly as he nurses his beer.

“Love you more, Lan, but not as much as America,” you chuckle, teasing him. He playfully rolls his eyes, knowing you are jesting.

“Are you always so… American?” Daniel laughs as he sits in the open chair beside you.

“Shut up before she drunkenly sings the national anthem,” Lando hisses, cringing at the time he mistakenly took you to a karaoke pub in London on July 4th. Honestly, he should’ve known better.

“I hate you all,”

[sp0o0kylights]

Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset. 

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it. 

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud. 

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.  

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds. 

Still.

 Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink. 

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations. 

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say. 

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’ 

Nope. 

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’ 

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure. 

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake. 

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them. 

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through. 

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing. 

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.  

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse. 

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something. 

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here. 

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may. 

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?” 

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house. 

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.  

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him. 

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.” 

Likely a lot of things. 

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it. 

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

 ‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give. 

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.” 

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice. 

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked. 

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle. 

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat. 

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth. 

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.) 

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?” 

Wayne nodded once, slow-like. 

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again. 

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?” 

“I did.” 

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say. 

Wayne took advantage. 

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.” 

“‘Bout trust.” 

Eddie blinked at that. 

“Trust.” He echoed flatly. 

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--” 

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.” 

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him. 

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.” 

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway. 

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with. 

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.” 

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like. 

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns. 

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.” 

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.” 

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had. 

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.” 

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.” 

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.” 

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through. 

Wayne sat with him as he processed. 

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did. 

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked; 

“What if he finds out?”  

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home. 

It took Wayne  a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret. 

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over. 

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly.  It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself. 

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved. 

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’ 

“He won’t.” Wayne said. 

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.” 

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side. 

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other. 

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest. 

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose. 

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine. 

Hurt, absolutely, but alive. 

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body. 

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol. 

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door. 

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch. 

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.  

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible. 

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup. 

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him. 

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely. 

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior. 

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.) 

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!” 

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it. 

Wayne rolled his eyes. 

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door. 

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries. 

“I think I promised you a game, son.”  Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall. 

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

[not-magdi]

(Not so) Quiet Evenings

Summary: Lando is alone with his son for the first time

Warnings: None, just so high risk of a baby fever

Words: 1.1k

A/N

I wanted to thank you for 1k notes on Little Update. So I wrote another dad!lando to thank all of you! <3

(I wanted to put a picture with him and a baby here but this was way too cute to not post❤️)

Carmen and Lily invited you to a small baby-free get-together. Nothing too big, just the three of you sitting together, relaxing and letting loose for a bit.

This whole thing was actually Lando's idea. He wanted to get you out of the house for a bit, sensing that you needed a little break from being a mama bear.

So he asked Lily if she could invite you over to catch up and keep your mind off of things a little. Of course, she said yes, already starting to plan the second Lando asked her. 

So now the Brit is sitting on the couch, watching you rush through the apartment to grab everything you need.

"Baby, you're gonna be fine, trust me. It's just Lily and Carmen."   

Halting your movements, you turn to him, your phone in one hand and your keys in the other. 

"I know it's just I want this to be perfect. It's been so long since I went out."

Lando stands up and makes his way over to you, stopping right in front of you. 

"You're going to be ok. Enjoy your night. Me and the little muppet are going to have a great night."

Lando strokes your arms, kissing your head to calm you down. 

"Speaking of the little muppet." You turn around and grab a piece of paper from the shelf behind you. "I wrote you a little list so you don't get overwhelmed by being alone."

Lando takes the paper and reads through the different points. 

Try to feed him before bed. So he sleeps a little bit longer( milk is already in the bottle) 

Bath him (use the blue and the green bottles on the sink) 

If he gets fussy, play the F1 intro. (Works every time!)   

Try to get him to bed around 7:30 p.m. 

You're going to do great. You're a super dad, and I believe in you. 

"Aww, you're cute." 

Wrapping his arms around you, he wishes you a lovely evening and practically pushes you out the door. 

Now, standing alone in the quiet apartment, a feeling of nervousness creeps up in his body. He grips the list you gave him a little tighter and makes his way into his son's room. 

Gently opening the door, he smiles at his son's sleeping figure, cuddled up in his little cot. Lando walks into the room, approaches his son and gently takes him into his arms.

Henry wakes up and looks at his dad with his adorable big blue eyes, cuddling himself into Lando's shoulder. 

Lando strokes his back to settle little Henry in his arms again, feeling the soft material of his little bear pyjamas between his fingers. 

"Well, hello there, little man. Slept well?" He asks, earning himself a happy gurgle. 

"I take that as a yes." 

He carries Henry into the living room, asking him all sorts of questions on the way.

"You also think that nobody needs fish, right? Say nothing if you agree."

Hearing complete silence from the sleeping baby in his arms, he looks down to find Henry in a deep slumber again. He laughs a little at how much they already have in common, being able to sleep everywhere. 

The two continue to cuddle for a bit. Lando tells him all sorts of stories until he feels Henry getting restless on his chest. 

"You getting hungry, little bud?" 

Henry lets out a whine, grabbing the shirt he lays on with his little fists. Lando strokes his back to settle him again, and stands up to grab a bottle from the kitchen. 

"How does Y/N do that?" 

In the kitchen, he currently tries to heat the bottle while holding the baby in his arms, which turns out to be more complicated than he thought, with a squirming baby in his arm.  

"How about- no, that's not going to work." 

"And if I just- nope, also not." 

After some time, he finally figured it out. He stuck Henry into his hoodie and held him with one hand while he prepared the bottle with the other.  

Now, he is sitting in your bathroom waiting for the water to be the perfect temperature. 

Let's say feeding didn't go quite as planned. The food was everywhere except Henry's mouth, on the floor, on Henry, the curtains, but mainly on Lando. 

So, now that both of them needed a bath, he decided to kill two birds with one stone. 

The water is warm enough now, so he grabs little Henry and climbs into the tub. The warmth engulfs their bodies as he lays down. 

"Yeah, that's better. Admit it, you just wanted to bathe with me."

Henry gives his dad a toothless smile and splashes him with water. Lando giggles at his son's antics and grabs the soap to start washing him. 

After he washed himself and the baby, he got both of them dressed. They are both dressed in matching quadrant hoodies, something Max gifted him as Henry was born. 

Land decides the world needs to see how unbelievably cute he and Henry look, so he takes a picture and posts it on his story. 

Millions of messages arrive to him in a matter of minutes, but he ignores them and makes his way over to Henry's little nursery. He is fighting to keep his little eyes open, so Lando decides it is time for him to call it a night. 

The second he lays him down in his crib, he starts to whine, not liking the loss of his father's warmth one bit. 

So Lando picks him up again, walks to the living room and sits on the couch. 

"You don't want to sleep yet, do you?" 

He coos at him and bounces up and down to settle Henry a little. Happy to be in his dad's arms again, he settles back down and closes his eyes. 

"Oh, so now you wanna sleep? Little evil genius, you got that from your mom." 

Not wanting to wake him up, Lando decides to stay on the couch and watch some TV until Henry is sleeping deep enough. It doesn't take long for Lando to doze off, one hand on his son's back and the other under his butt, having him in a safe grip. 

And that's exactly how you found them two hours later, cuddled up on the couch, the TV playing in the background.   

Smiling to yourself, you take out your phone and take a picture of the two of them, definitely posting that later. But for now, you walk up to them and cuddle yourself to your perfect little family.   

[spacedace]

Something I've seen in fics a few times but not for comedic effect is the idea that Constantine selling his soul so many times makes him look/feel Wrong to ghosts.

Like I love various Danny ghost shenanigans giving Constantine a heart attack in stories but just imagine that Constantine is like deeply, deeply unsettling for Ghosts & Liminals to be around.

To the point of whenever he and Danny meet for the first time at the Watchtower after Danny's joined the League, Constantine just walks in and upon turning to look at who just walked in Danny just shrieks like a small child and throws a chair at him out of reflex, diving behind Captain Marvel to use him as a magical human meat shield while screeching "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT???! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" At the top of his lungs and doesn't stop until Batman makes Constantine leave.

Even after Zantanna explains Constantine's whole deal and Danny explains to the Justice League how totally fucked up that looks/feels like to him ("Dude, Ghosts are their core, for us you see that before you see the shape of whoever you're talking to. Like, imagine someone walks up to you with a face that looks like it's made out of a shattered plate and the pieces are bleeding"

Or like, imagine instead it's a thing were Jason and Jazz are dating and Jazz, Danny & Elle are invited over for a nice meet the family brunch - "Brunch is fun and casual!" Dick insisted, "Way less intimidating than if we had them over for dinner!") and Constantine pops in to talk to Bruce about a case.

And the second he walks into the room all three just shriek like they're from an episode of Scooby Doo.

Elle takes one look at Constantine and just nopes out of there so hard she doesn't even gk intangible as she throws herself out the window and starts flying for the hills. Danny screeches like a cat whose tail has been stepped on and jumps onto the ceiling and scrambles away. Jazz screams like a house wife from an old Looney Tunes cartoon and starts climbing Jason like a tree - which is a bit of a problem since she's half a foot taller than Jay and throwing his center of balance off a bit and now half of the plates are smashed on the floor.

Jason doesn't even notice though because he also is losing his shit over what the fuck that thing is and unlike Elle is far more interested in Fight rather than Flight and pulls out a gun - "Why'd you bring a gun to brunch?! Guns aren't fun or casual!" - and just starts unloading on Constantine (who is very lucky Jason has switched to non lethal rounds and that he's quick enough with his spells to largely keep most of the rubber bullets from hitting him) also while screaming at the top of his lungs.

And well, turns out Jason's new girlfriend is the older sister of that ghost hero the League's been looking to recruit and Bruce is gonna take advantage of that - Phantom has been hard to pin down, which is fair, bad history with government agencies trying to kill him and all - to talk to him about a place with JL, though first he's going to have to get him down from the ceiling and that'd be a lot easier if Constantine would just leave already, they are supposed to be having a family brunch this is his one day off!

(Elle screams her all the way to Metropolis and doesn't stop until she nearly knocks Superman out of the sky. He isn’t really sure what's going on, but he does manage to calm her down and takes her to go get some ice cream. When he pitches joining JL she tells him that she thinks he's kinda lame but that Superboy is cool so she's down. It's...honestly kinda devastating but Clark manages to get through it.

A note gets made when the two ghost heroes officially join the League that partnerships with Constantine should be kept at an absolute minimum.)

And lol yeah, just, Constantine being utterly terrifying to Danny and the Pham

[hanafubukki]

Summary: In which, a potion accident leads to Lilia having long hair again.

You coughed and waved your hand, trying to dispel the fumes in the area.

You knew allowing Grim and Lilia to partner up was a bad idea.

Whatever the two had poured into the cauldron caused an explosion of colorful gases, you could hear Silver call out to his father in panic.

“Khee hee~ It’s been a while since I’ve been like this.”

Malleus cleared the area with his magic, and you were faced with the nonchalant laughing fae.

Lilia was safe and sound with no visible wounds, the only difference was his hair. Whereas he had short hair before, now he had long hair, more than he ever had in his long life.

Oh no.

This was bad for you.

It turns out cutting said hair would not be possible. The potion ended up giving Lilia indestructible hair no magic or blade could cut.

Professor Crewel had simply stated the easiest option was to wait until the potion wore out.

Whenever that was.

In the meantime, you watched as Silver’s bird friends and Malleus’ magic worked together to braid said hair.

It reminded you of a certain movie back in your world, ironically enough.

Sebek poked at you, “Human! What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all!”

Sebek seemed to realize something to your mortification, “Oh! Is it because-”

You slammed your hands over his mouth, “Don’t finish that sentence!”

You and Silver watch as Lilia uses his hair to swing side to side across the room.

His laughter bounced off the walls.

Neither of you were surprised, but it was still an amusing sight nonetheless.

“Sebek told me about your…problem.”

You were going to kill him.

“It’s not a problem. It’s just a me thing.”

“Father would be happy if you told him.”

“He would be insufferable and you know it.”

Silver couldn’t deny that.

“Malleus!”

“Child of Man?”

You ran behind Malleus, taking cover.

“Oh come now~ I just want to talk Dear.”

“Whatever you want to ask, you can ask in front of Mal.”

Lilia pouted, his hair was still long and dragging about. You wondered how it didn’t get dirty.

But then again, you knew Silver who uses soap on his, so was this surprising?

“Lilia, why is YN hiding from you?”

“That’s what I want to know! They’ve been neglecting me~ I want my cuddles but they keep running away.”

Malleus seemed to think Lilia’s words over, and you used this opportunity to try and escape-

“Woah!”

Something wrapped around your wrists and pulled you across into Lilia’s arms.

You stared at the hair binding your hands together.

You’re kidding me-

“Bye Malleus~”

“Wait! No! Malleus-”

“It is better to express yourself rather than keep it in. It was you who taught me that, YN.”

Traitor.

Lilia burst into laughter.

Normally, you would find this cute

You know, if you weren’t tied to your chair.

Bound with layers of hair.

The irony of this didn’t escape you.

“So you ran away because you couldn’t handle how hot I was?”

“…maybe.”

You weren’t going to tell him that General Llilia, during your time in his dreams, still made you hot and bothered.

Nor would you tell him about those dreams with the General, the current Lilia in front of you, and you. Together.

Nope.

Never.

He would have a bigger head than he already does, knowing how weak you are for him.

It was bad enough that Sebek knew how much you simped for his mentor because you needed to confide in someone. Though you kept those thoughts away from him, for both your sakes.

“Khee~ Hee~ You’re so adorable, Beloved.”

Lilia leaned towards you.

“Would you say…I make you speechless?”

The dark crimson of his eyes made you fluster. A flash of an image of him in his groom outfit had you blushing more.

“That’s cheating!”

Lilia chuckled before sitting on your lap, his thighs framing yours and his arms circling your neck.

“I never said I played fair. Besides, I quite adore you like this.”

His fingers trailed up the back of your neck into your hair. His breath mingled with yours, lips barely touching.

“Bound and pretty under me, and all mine to do as I please.”

Your whimpered plea has him finally leaning in, lips pressing against yours.

The way this idea gripped me and never let go as Nessy ( @masquerade-of-misery) and I talked about how hot Lilia is with long hair.

Hope you enjoyed ☺️🫶💚