#25 days of coasters

[rushthehollow]

25 days of coasters / 24. goliath, six flags great america # of rides: 9 / last ridden: spring 2023

you'll see this a bit later on -- i absolutely adore topper track rmcs. i love the feel that they have to them; a very specific bite that isn't painful & is just so enjoyable. to me, this makes them feel very alive, akin to a wooden coaster. while there are arguments against topper track being considered true woodies (personally i really don't care about these types of arguments), there is no denying that they have the life, feel, & bite that one has.

so here we are! a cute, short, but awesome ride experience with this one. it has what i enjoy in the other topper rmcs i've ridden, and what i enjoy in general with rmcs.

[sabertoothwalrus]

I’ve been digitizing old home videos and there’s something about noticing an item in those videos I still use today, and realizing just how long my family has had it.

The pet hair brush on the floor next to my mom, who’s pregnant with me, after having just used it the other day to brush our cats.

The old boots my mom is wearing, and knowing that I used them 14 years later for a cosplay.

The coasters I’m playing with as a not-quite-one-year-old, and knowing I brought one from the very same set to my college apartment, there on my desk under my cup of water.

The cork board hanging in my older brother’s bedroom when he was two, and turning around to see it leaned up against the wall in my bedroom.

there’s a certain kind of… indescribable reverence for the mundane. The Constants. it makes me wonder what things will stick around for another 25 years.

[pnghoon]

심재윤ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⨾ 󠀠ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwho knows? i might let you make me juno.

(🎼) ── 𝓢IM JAEYUN [제이크] ⁞ ㅤㅤ𝓰. fluff, crack, married au, humor, suggestive???ㅤㅤ୨୧ㅤㅤ warnings : est. relationship, not proofread, skinship, kissing, suggestive themes but nothing crazy, pet-namesㅤ⟡ㅤ!nonidol hubby !ikeu 𝔁 fem baby fever wife !reader ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᯓ ꒰ wc : 1.6k꒱ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsynopsis .ᐟ in which your husband seems to be painfully clueless to your advances... ── 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ᡣ𐭩

juno's note ─ hehehehehehehhe i feel the baby kicking in me already while writing this!!! /j if you enjoyed reading this, please be sure to like & reblog !! ♡

you weren’t really sure when the baby fever started.

maybe it was that day your adorable niece fell asleep on your chest. or maybe it was when you passed by a store window and saw the tiniest pair of shoes imaginable, and your ovaries staged a coup. either way, it was happening.

the problem was: your husband. sim jaeyun, jake sim, seemed to think nothing of it. zero. zilch. absolutely no thoughts. you were starting to think your husband had no peripheral vision. either that or he had unlocked a state of zen so deep that even a flashing neon sign reading "put a baby in me" wouldn’t disrupt the peace in his goldfish-level intellect.

you wanted it. so bad. the whole messy, sleep-deprived, snack-packing, lullaby-singing adventure. and honestly? you figured jake would be on the same page.

he was not on the same page. jake wasn’t even in the bookstore.

you had tried everything.

you would bring up themes of raising a child any chance you could. even before bed when the lights were off. hell, you even started buying books about the jovial moments of motherhood. but still--nothing.

you were sure jake wasn’t dumb. i mean, the man built ikea furniture without the instructions once. he knew how to calculate the tip before the bill even hit the table. he even explained quantum tunneling to you using gummy bears and a freshly opened cereal box.

so why--just why--was he so blissfully, frustratingly, and painfully oblivious to the fact that you wanted a damn baby.

not a dog. not a car. not a plant. a full-fledged, tiny little version of the two of you.

you started simple.

"you ever wonder what our kid would look like?" you asked over breakfast one morning, twirling your spoon in your cereal while leaving no room for misinterpretation.

jake blinked up from his pancakes, "huh? oh, i dunno. maybe a mix of us? or like, 75% me, 25% you. no offense, baby, but my genetics are kinda elite."

you stared.

he kissed your forehead and stole your toast.

and that’s when you knew. it wasn’t cluelessness. it was arrogance. delusion. you married a mad man who thought his genetics were too good not to dominate the gene pool.

you glared at his retreating back as he happily munched on your toast, muttering something about "dominant jawlines" and "superior hair texture." you were this close to calling his mother and asking if he had always been this dense, or if marriage had fried his brain.

but you weren’t a quitter.

and if your husband wouldn’t see the signs? well, maybe it was time to make the signs a little harder to ignore.

you had it displayed on the coffee table like it was fine art. "nurture: a modern guide to pregnancy, birth, early motherhood--and trusting yourself and your body" the book was simple, with a soft off-white backdrop and a circular peachy hue design in the center.

you left it in the bathroom. nothing.

you left it on the coffee table. crickets.

you even left it on the kitchen island near his morning coffee. he used it as a coaster.

you felt like you were slowly losing your mind.

then one evening, you walked into the bedroom to find jake lounging with the book open on his lap.

you felt your pulse quicken.

"oh my god, you’re reading it?" you gasped, your excitement bubbling over like a shaken soda can.

he looked up, a soft smile on his face. "yeah, babe. it’s actually really insightful. i didn’t realize how much there is to know."

you pressed a hand to your chest, feeling like you might faint. "so... you’ve been thinking about it? about everything?"

he blinked at you, a confused expression crossing his face. "what? oh, no, i just had it here while i was eating snacks. It made a great surface for my chips, and the book’s sturdy--didn’t want to ruin it."

you stood frozen in the doorway, utterly speechless, as he nonchalantly reached for the bowl of chips sitting on top of your cherished book.

you considered divorce for exactly 2.5 seconds.

maybe you had to up the stakes.

every friday, you and jake had a movie night ritual. you’d alternate picking movies, and each time, you’d "accidentally" pick a movie that had a subtle theme of parenthood or babies--mostly romantic comedies with happy, chaotic families. but this particular friday night? you were taking no chances.

"so what do you want to watch?" jake asked, sprawling out on the couch, his arm slung over the backrest like he was ready for a good nap.

"oh, i was thinking we could watch baby mama tonight," you suggested, trying to sound casual as you pretended to scroll through the streaming options.

jake raised an eyebrow, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "that’s a classic, huh?"

"yeah, classic," you nodded proudly, pretending not to notice his lack of enthusiasm. "it's about two women and their...well, you know, their journey to becoming parents. super funny stuff."

he looked at you, still oblivious. "cool, sounds like a real feel-good movie. i'm all in."

as the movie played, you shot him a sly glance. "don’t you think babies are the cutest? i mean, especially when they giggle."

"yeah, babies are cool," he mumbled dismissively, munching on popcorn, clearly more interested in the snack than the conversation.

you sighed dramatically, thinking maybe, just maybe, this would be the night he'd catch on. but jake? nope. he just laughed at the jokes and passed the popcorn as if nothing had changed.

you sat there, defeated for the moment. you made a mental note to yourself: this wasn’t over.

you figured maybe you weren’t being direct enough. maybe you needed to turn the heat up.

and by heat, you meant lingerie.

the baby pink kind. with lace. and frills.

and little bows that screamed "breeder."

you strutted into the bedroom like a temptress straight out of a romcom, all hip sway and bedroom eyes.

he looked up from his sudoku puzzle and blinked. "woah. what’s the occasion?"

you leaned in, draped your arms around his shoulders, and whispered, "just thinking it might be fun to… try something new."

his eyes lit up.

progress.

he smirked. "ooh, like sudoku together?"

you nearly ripped your bow off and strangled him with it.

you were starting to get restless. either jake had a brain the size of a peanut or he just didn't like the idea of having a child with you.

you felt like you’d tried everything. baby books, baby movies, leaving your laptop open with your carter's cart filled with tiny onesies out on the coffee table. you even went as far as to borrowing your friend’s toddler for an afternoon. what did jake think? the second you walked in with chubby little noah propped on your hip, his eyes went wide. he stared at you like you’d just kidnapped a random baby--glancing nervously toward the door as if expecting the cops to burst in any second.

but despite all of it, the weird thing was--he was still the same jake. still kissed your forehead every morning. still left cute little notes in your lunch. still brought you that weirdly specific strawberry lemonade you liked without asking.

you knew he loved you. deeply. fully. unapologetically. but god, if he didn’t see your hints soon you were going to lose it.

and then one night, it all cracked.

you were curled up on the couch with a pillow under your sweater--mostly as a joke. another friday movie night, another baby-themed film. this time it was life as we know it, and you were two glasses of wine deep and high off frustration.

"ugh," you groaned, nudging jake with your foot. "i’d be such a cute mom."

he hummed. "you’d be the cutest."

"i’d give the best snacks. and i’d totally make our kid wear matching halloween costumes with us. no exceptions."

"you’d be so annoying about it," he laughed.

"do you think i’d be a good mom?"

he looked over, really looked this time, and your fake pregnant pillow belly shifted slightly under your arm.

his lips curled.

"yeah," he said, soft. "you’d be amazing."

you blinked. "so--so you’ve noticed?"

he reached over, pulling the pillow out from under your shirt, then leaned in to kiss your nose. "i’ve known for weeks," he whispered.

"i--wait--you knew?"

he grinned, that same stupid, lazy grin that made you fall for him in the first place. "babe. you’ve been naming hypothetical babies for three weeks, you’ve got a pinterest board titled 'nursery room ideas,' and then you called me ‘daddy’ during sex--only to immediately clarify, 'like, paternal daddy, not the kinky one. kinda hard not to know.'"

you smacked his arm. he kissed you again.

"i was nervous! besides, why didn’t you say anything?!"

"because," he murmured, flipping you onto your back with one arm, pressing soft kisses down your jaw, "i was enjoying the show."

you fell silent for a moment. "you liked watching me suffer?"

"no," he whispered against your skin, "i liked seeing how cute you looked trying to manipulate me."

you felt your ears go bright red. "you're still an idiot," you murmured out.

he chuckled at your half-ass insult, before leaning in to kiss you--properly this time. slow, deep, with a promise tucked right in the middle. "i love that you want this. i want it too. i was just waiting for you to ask."

you flushed. "so…?"

"so let’s do it," he said simply. "let’s have a baby."

𝓢igning off... @pnghoon

── 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 [OPEN 🗯] @onlyhees @amouriu @greentulip @enhluv1 @samiikeu @hoonwhile @dearrwoni @won4kiss @jakesangel

[msgexymunson]

Highest Bidder

Description: When you get Eddie to agree to be on auction for the Valentine’s Ball, you don't count on jealousy affecting you this much. To be fair, you didn’t think Chrissy Cunningham would be there. But maybe, just maybe, he likes you just as much as you like him? 

Warnings: Angst, fluff and smut, my favourite horsemen. NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll shoot you with arrows and not the cupid kind. Slight older, 25 ish Eddie Munson x 23 ish fem reader, confessions, BFFs to lovers, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (dress before you impress irl) 

A/N: So this was meant for Valentines but I decided to catch Covid instead. Inspired by the auction scene in Groundhog Day. I loved writing this, hopefully you get the desperate pining feeling that I was trying to give off. I love all of you, not only on Valentines but every day. 

Comments and reblogs keep this little paper heart from bursting Into flames. Please, comment and reblog, it makes me so happy you don't even know. 

7k words

Masterlist

“So sweetheart,” Eddie begins, a sly smile creeping over his face as he steeples his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees, “are you gonna tell me why you did it?” He's sitting across from you in his armchair, like this is some sort of bizarre job interview. 

The surroundings are familiar. Eddie's second hand couch, the worn fabric soft under your thighs. The coffee table you helped drag up four flights of stairs, adorned with a coaster placed entirely for your benefit, of course. It's not like Eddie cares about water rings. The comforting smell of the fabric softener Eddie uses intermingled with cigarettes, and incense to cover the smoky aroma. That, and Eddie's aftershave; faint after a night in proximity of it, but there all the same. 

The situation is not familiar. The wayward glances, the lingering touches, the tension filling the air so thick it's like trying to move through cake batter. Wading through some dense, sweet, all consuming feeling that sticks to your ribs and pulls you into its gravity.

Torn between looking at him and shyly stirring your drink with its straw, you think about it. Why did you? The answer wasn't simple. It never was, with Eddie.

It all started with the Valentines Charity Ball your mom roped you into helping to organise. She was a force to be reckoned with, your mom. The human equivalent of a wrecking ball. When she got involved with any good cause, no one and nothing could stop her. Including you. 

So, when she ran to you in desperation last night, you didn't hesitate. One of the guys for the date auction had taken ill and she was stuck for a fourth. So, the first name you could think of spilled out of your mouth. It took some convincing. No, he's not just some freak. Yes, he's doing well for himself. Yes, he's got a steady job, an apartment. No, he doesn't deal anymore. Yes, he's good looking, obviously. No, we aren't a thing, we were never a thing. 

You were never a thing. It was much more complex than that. Affairs of the heart always were. When you'd met Eddie at school you were quiet. A loser, living on the fringes of obscurity; not popular, but not strange enough to be bullied. Eddie was safe. A shield. You'd entered Hellfire without a second thought. And sure, he was handsome, ridiculously so. But at the time, he was seeing some twig called Stacey or Samantha or something, and you bit down on your attraction. Hid it deep within the tissue of your heart. Swallowed it whole. Then, you'd dated Thomas, and after that, he had seen Wendy, and then it was circumstantial. At no point had the pair of you been single together until recently, so it clearly wasn't meant to be. Whatever attraction you'd been harbouring was mellowed, dissolved and disintegrated in yourself. After that, he was just Eddie. 

Convincing Eddie to do the auction had been an entirely different story. It wasn't nerves. He had stood on tables in the cafeteria to speak his mind, after all. He had conveyed his innermost thoughts to almost any who would listen, like some wayward preacher at a bizarre sermon. It could never be nerves, not with him. It was always the fear of not being enough. The fear of himself. After many words of encouragement, he'd agreed. If only to shut you up, but it worked. 

What you hadn't accounted for was the sight of Eddie climbing out of his beat up van in a goddamn button up shirt and fucking dress shoes. In jeans that weren't ripped, with wild hair scooped back into a low bun. You hadn't counted on the easy smile you'd seen a thousand times now winding into your stomach and sending raven wing beats into your heart. In the soft wink that loosed a thousand moths within your core. Moths, they say, live at most, a day, but these seem ancient compared. Alive in an enclosure you had created years ago, set loose suddenly and all at once, their once fixated caretaker ignoring his responsibilities. 

“Hey sweetheart, am I late?” 

When had his voice gained that huskiness, that depth? When had looking into his chocolate brown eyes melted your insides? A twinge in your back brought on by the stress of the night took you back to the here and now. Gazing back at him whilst you attempted to rub it away, you replied.

“N-no, not at all. You, you look really good, Eddie.” 

He scoffed aloud, shaking his head in disbelief, a cascade of loose curls flowing around his face. 

“That's a load of crap. You, hey, you look amazing. Seriously, smoking hot.” 

Your head span with the compliment, as you looked down at your own outfit. It was a ball after all, and for once your mom had insisted on a dress. It was a deep red, cheap satin, low cut, a tasteful hem at the knee, with a slit up the side providing at least a little mobility, and kitten heels. Currently, you felt like an outsider looking into a different world through plexiglass, but the way Eddie looked at you made you feel like you belonged. 

‘It's nothing, just a dress.” 

“Hey,” he replied, crowding your space with the confidence he embodies, “you look incredible. Trust me.”

His knuckles dragged across your flushed cheek, and for a moment all sense of who you were and why this was happening was lost to the feel of his skin on yours. But only for a moment. Dipping your eyes down, you took a tiny step back. 

“We should head inside Eddie. You ready?” 

After a couple of hours of cheesy music and weak as fuck punch, you tapped your fingers on your plastic cup and turned down the latest pensioner who thought you were here for his amusement. Until finally, the host tapped the microphone and asked everyone to gather at the front for the main event. You made your way to the side of the stage in case you were needed, and waited for the bidding to start. 

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the highlight of the night. For one night only, Hawkins’s most eligible bachelors will be yours, to an extent. Be prepared to be wined, dined, and entertained, by our finest gentlemen, all in the name of charity, of course. And first up, is our very own George Heights! Give it up for George everyone!” 

The crowd clapped as George walked onto the stage, an early balding man with just the hint of a pot belly poking through his chequered blue shirt.  

“George is an artist, and an aspiring architect, with a penchant for poetry and an insatiable appetite. Give it up for George, everybody!”

After a lukewarm auction, which ended with George being bought for 65 bucks, the next one was sold. And the next one. Pretty soon, it was Eddie's turn. He stepped forward, and whispers began to float around you. You expected that, to some extent, but there were woops, and even a wolf whistle too. Ever the showman, he bent into a low bow, straightened back up, and winked at the audience. 

“And last, but not least, we have a handsome young man up for your bidding pleasure. Put your hands together for Eddie!” 

As he did a turn on the spot, hands outstretched, the rouse of applause went on for longer than you thought it would. Enthusiastic hands clapped for your man.

No. Your friend. Just a friend. 

“That's it, that's what we're looking for! Eddie is a mechanic, and a talented guitarist, who is looking for your company tonight! So, starting bid, can I hear twenty dollars?” 

“Here! Twenty dollars!” An old lady waved her programme enthusiastically in the air. Eddie's eyes rolled and caught yours momentarily, and you flashed a smile at him. 

“There we go, twenty! Can we go to twenty five?” 

“Thirty!” an equally old lady shouted, earning you yet another look from him that made you laugh. 

“Fifty dollars!” 

The crowd went silent as a man in the back shot his hand in the air. 

“Woah, a high bidder! Anyone want to beat fifty?” 

Before the crowd had a chance to recuperate a young and extremely pretty woman's hand shot upward. 

“One hundred dollars!” 

Everyone fell silent. The only thing not getting the message was your heartbeat. The beautifully manicured and delicate hand belonged to none other than Chrissy fucking Cunningham. 

She looked more beautiful than ever. Hawkins’s sweetheart, all grown up. The popular girl, the pretty girl. Prettier than you, at least to your mind. Prom queen, beauty pageant winner, and the icing on the cake? Actually a nice person. No one could hate her, it would be like kicking a kitten. 

But as your heart dropped like a lead weight into your chest, you thought you wouldn't mind seeing a bit of fur flying across the room, guided by your heels. 

You saw it, you couldn't fail to. The sudden way Eddie stood a little straighter, chest puffed up a little more, as a slow smirk crawled over his face. 

“One hundred? Wowee! Thank you young lady! Anyone for one twenty?” 

The man at the back called out, “right here!” 

Chrissy giggled, small hand held up covering the cute noise, and made another bid. 

“One thirty!” 

It seemed like the entirety of your body's blood had rushed to your head. You felt dizzy and sick, watching this happen, like some slow motion car crash. Again, your damned back hurt. you rubbed it in vain, and gazed back at the ruin in front of you.  

“One fifty!” The man at the back bellowed. Eddie's eyes widened, and he put his hands together, as if in prayer. His gaze was begging, pleading, and directed at Chrissy. 

The frozen spell you seemed to have been under lifted suddenly. This was not going to happen, you wouldn't let it. Chrissy had everything she could possibly need, she didn't need more. She couldn't have him. 

He's yours. 

Through watery eyes, you fiercely trawled through your purse, and came across the little envelope you tucked in there earlier. The money you had scraped together to go towards buying a car. You'd almost forgotten it, intending to drop it home before you came here. 

It looked like you'd have to be a pedestrian for a while longer. 

At the same time Chrissy placed delicate fingers in the air, your whole arm shot up, purse clutched in hand. 

“Two hundred and fifty two dollars and thirty nine cents!” 

Gasps and grunts from the crowd echoed throughout the hall as everyone turned to face you. Even Eddie's jaw hit the floor. It took a moment for it to register, but when it did people were cheering. 

“Well, I think that wraps it up folks! The highest bid of the night, sold to the very eager young lady in red right over here! What a great donation!”

He continued talking, wrapping up the show, and signalled for the music to start once again. Blood was hammering in your ears, making you almost oblivious to everyone around you. All you could focus on in your tunnel vision was Eddie as he walked to the edge of the stage, climbed off in a smooth hop, and started sauntering toward you. 

“You know, if you wanted me that badly you could have just asked, sweetheart.” He said, as he flashed you a smug grin. 

“Hey, I was just saving you from that guy over there, pretty sure he wanted more than a date.” Your words came out calmer than you thought you were capable of as you clenched a fist at your side to hide your shakes. 

“Oh, really?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, “That's what you were saving me from, huh?” 

He knew it was a lie. You knew it was a lie. You're pretty sure the entire hall knew it was a lie. 

“Of course, don't want some old geezer putting his hands all over you. Not a fun Valentines. Plus, I own you now. You've gotta do what I say.” 

Your hands dropped to your hips, holding them as you smiled at him. 

“Kinky,” he replied, stepping closer, making you falter in your confident stance as you’re forced to look up at him, “so, what are your orders, princess?” 

“Can you, get me a drink. A proper drink, from the bar? Please?” 

Taking your hand in both of his, he brought it up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it that turned your insides upside down. 

“Easy. Your wish is my command. Jack and Coke, right?” 

Gormlessly nodding, all you managed to say was a stunted “uh huh.”

He flashed that grin again, and bounced off with more of a spring in his step than usual. 

You turned on your heel, begging yourself to get your head together, and busied yourself with gathering the donations for the auction, including your hefty one, and passed the cash to your mom to be locked away. When you approached, she opened her mouth but you wildly waved a finger at her. 

“I know, I don't want to hear it. Not right now.” 

She smiled, and just said, “pretty sure you could have got that date for free.” 

Rolling your eyes and simultaneously rubbing your back, you passed over the cash and turned quickly, nearly slamming into someone. 

“Easy princess, I know you bought me but I won't stand for full on tackling.” 

He was holding your drink high, arms up to protect it.

“Sorry Eds, just escaping from-” 

You looked over your shoulder, but your mom had disappeared. 

“-nevermind. Thank you.” 

As you grabbed your drink you took a generous gulp in a vain attempt to steady your nerves. 

“So, now you have me, what are you gonna do to me?” 

As he guided a wolfish grin to you, you simply rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that several unsavoury thoughts were swimming through your mind. 

“What if I told you to hop on one leg and bark like a dog, huh?” You replied, sending a grin right back. 

“Oh you don't think I would? Don't test me princess.” 

You simply folded your arms and cocked your head, daring him with a look. Eddie nodded, and started fucking bouncing on one leg. 

“Woof! Woo-” 

“OK OK stop you weirdo!” Gasping a laugh, you grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and dragged him away from the curious stares of those around you. 

As the song changed to a slow ballad, Eddie whipped the drink from your hand despite your protests and placed it on a nearby table. 

“What are you doing?” 

Grasping your hand he escorted you to the middle of the dance floor and suddenly pulled you so close that the air expelled from your lungs. There was no air, just music, and feeling, and Eddie. 

“I'm dancing with you. Isn't this what you do on dates?” 

As he held your hips, thumbs rubbing into your sides, your mind cleared. Like a bubble of smoke had popped. This felt good. This felt right. You circled his neck within your arms and relaxed for the first time that evening.  

“This isn't a date, Eds.” 

Your words held some spite, but it was belied by the smirk tugging at your cheeks. 

“You are right. This isn't a date. If it was, well, we wouldn't be surrounded by geriatrics.” he nodded at the crowd around you, eliciting a high pitched giggle from your chest. 

As you swayed in step with him, gazing into his chocolate eyes, the smirk only grew, fuelled by the mischief in his eyes. 

“So, if this was a date, what would we be doing instead?” 

A part of you wants to feel bashful and turn away, but the spell his eyes have you under is in control. No force on earth could tear your gaze asunder. The couples around you could burst into flames and be chalked up to little more than background noise. 

“Well, first, I would have picked you up at your house, bought you some flowers too,” he said as he brought his hand to yours, holding it and pushing you into his frame even more, so you strained your neck up to him. His breath fanned delicately against your ear as he continued his explanation. 

“Probably took you to a fancy restaurant, with fabric napkins,” he said, making you giggle at his understanding of ‘fancy’, “would have paid too. Maybe had some wine. Shared a dessert.” 

“Yeah?” You nearly whisper it, words falling into the exposed skin of his neck. 

“Yeah. Then, I would have taken you back to my place, offered you a cup of coffee,” suddenly he spun you, pressing his lithe front to your waiting back, his fingers scooping the hair from your neck sending comet trails of sensation down your spine. He continued, words making your head dizzy, “Then, I would kiss you, properly. Like you deserve to be kissed.” 

As he spun you back to face him, you held his gaze for a moment, seeing every ounce of honesty etched into those big brown eyes. 

“Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Let's get out of here.” 

You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the here and now. Here you sit, opposite Eddie, invaded by his scent, debating whether or not to just tell the truth and hang the consequences. 

Taking a gulp of your drink, you set it back down and look Eddie in the eye. 

“Listen, I'm gonna be honest. I saw the way you looked at Chrissy and I… I was jealous. I didn't think, I just kinda acted. I'm sorry if it was weird.” 

Bravery fleeing your bones leaving behind an airy wobble, you look at your own lap, fingers twisting over and over. You're only slightly aware of the shuffle and rustle of Eddie rising to his feet, of footsteps, of the dip in the couch next to you. Then, Eddie's large hand comes to rest over both of yours. 

“Do you know why, sweetheart? Why were you jealous?” 

His hand is steady, fingers stilling your movements confidently, but there's a quaver to his voice that seems entirely unlike him. Grasping his fingers, you absentmindedly play with his heavy rings. 

“I feel stupid. I've had… kind of a crush on you, since high school.”

Of all the reactions, you hadn't expected a deep laugh to reverberate from his chest. Recoiling in horror, you shift your hands away from his and move to stand, your only thought to run, flee. 

“No no no, please, sit,” he asks, hands grasping at your waist to keep you there, as you rub at the twinge in your back again. 

“Turn around,” he says, and you don't find it in you to disobey. Firm hands stroke softly down your back, “you've been rubbing your back all night. Right here?” 

Fingertips circle the spot that's been aching and you nod, confused.

“Eddie, if this is a rejection, it's a really odd one- oh fuck, right there.” 

He chuckles lowly, knuckles working at the knot near your spine. 

“It's not, it's really not. You're in pain, and I know you'd never ask. Plus, I, ha, don't have the balls to say this to your face.” 

You don't say anything in response, you can't. Of course he's noticed you're in pain, he always notices stuff like that. The fact that this isn't a rejection though? It has your head reeling with so many thoughts that you can't express the words. Eddie clears his throat, hands rubbing into your skin through your dress, easing some of the building anxiety. 

“I've got a secret. I've- had a crush, on you, since middle school.” 

“Shut up!” You gasp, mouth hanging open at his confession. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“You didn't even know me in middle school Eds.”

“Yeah I did. Well, sorta. You remember that day I ran into the library? I asked for help?” 

You pick at the scab of a memory, itching it to the forefront of your brain. 

“Oh yeah, you were running from that idiot... Johnny?”

“Jimmy Salinsky. He was gonna beat on me. You, you didn't hesitate. You didn't even know me, but you told me to hide under your chair, you even threw your coat over your lap to hide me.” 

“What else would I do?” 

He snorted derisively, continuing his impromptu massage, “ignore me, tell me to fuck off, just like anybody else. But you, no, you didn't. Jimmy ran in looking for me and you didn't even lie! He asked if a freak had run in and you-” 

“-I said ‘the only freak in here is you’, I remember.” 

“That's right!” He laughs, squeezing your hips appreciatively, “Then he asked if you'd seen the poor kid, Eddie. You said, ‘I've never even met an Eddie’, which was true too. Not like I introduced myself before I dived under your chair. I remember crouching there, trying not to laugh, watching your little legs swinging. You had odd socks on, and you smelled really good. Anyway, I crushed on you hard.” 

Head buzzing over his words, you try to organise your thoughts. 

“Did the guys- did Hellfire know?” 

“Sweetheart, I'm surprised you didn't know, it was common knowledge. I just thought you never liked me like that.” 

Turning to face him again, you stroke hesitant fingers over his knee. 

“Didn't say anything, you were seeing Stacey.” Eddie's face screws in confusion until clarity rings like a bell in his mind. 

“Her? I wasn’t- that wasn't a relationship. I would have stopped in a fucking heartbeat if I'd known.” 

“Oh. I dated Tom to get over you.” 

“I dated Wendy to get over you!” 

Sharing a laugh, you both hold eye contact, giggles dying at the realisation of what this means. 

“So, Eddie, about that kiss…” you inch forward, ever so slightly nearer to him. A pink tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip. 

“Yeah, that. That was me, running my mouth,” he says, anxiety wracking his voice as he strokes his neck compulsively, “Not that I don't want to kiss you, I do, just, erm, don't expect fireworks?” 

It's almost like he's back at middle school, the nerves radiating off of him. Smiling sweetly, you take his hand and place it on your jaw, leaning into its touch. The breath he exudes is shaky as he moves closer, eyes darting to your lips as yours flutter shut. 

It's tentative; a brush of his mouth as if he's scared of you running, of some practical joke. When you make no move to pull away his thumb strokes your cheek, lips now moving more confidently against yours. Your heartbeat is echoing inside your head as your hand slips to slither down his chest and around him, circling his side. 

Only then does his tongue slowly snake out to wet your bottom lip; a silent plea which you happily grant. Still, it's delicate, tongues moving leisurely against one another as if you have all the time in the world. It's by no means dispassionate; far from it, it may be the most emotionally  charged kiss of your life, but it feels like he's holding back. 

So, you pull him closer by the front of his shirt, flicking your leg over his knee as your fingers tug hard. It's then that his tongue licks into you in earnest, thick and smooth, filling your insides with need. Just when you feel utterly consumed, whining inside his mouth, he breaks away. After a few pecks to your lips, he presses his forehead to yours, breath uneven, cooling your swollen lips. 

“I'm in love with you.” 

It comes out of his mouth in a rush. All you can do is stare gormlessly. 

“Huh?” 

“I love you. I just needed you to know that. This isn't just a- a thing. I'm in love with you, I have been since forever. I know it's a lot to take in, and I don't expect you to say it back I just need you to-”

You shut him up, pressing a hard kiss to his parted lips.

“Eddie, you lied.” 

“What? I'm telling the truth I-”

“You said don't expect fireworks. You were wrong.” 

Wasting no more time, you force your body onto him, tongue clashing against his teeth as the force of your kiss presses him backwards. His head makes contact with the arm of the couch, hands hot and heavy on your hips, pushing you into his bulge. 

The fabric of your dress is constricting your movements, making you huff into his mouth. 

“Eddie,” you manage in between spit slicked kisses, “unzip me.” 

There's a cross between a grunt and a moan that vibrates from him into you as his hand wanders across your back, groping its way to the zipper. In a few short bursts he manages to unzip it, not once breaking the kiss. 

Cool air hits your skin and you stand up, shimmying the dress to the floor and you straddle him moving in for- 

“Woah, slow down a second, just, just wait.” 

You try to kiss him again but he pushes you back, your ass flush against his crotch as you sit up. His gaze is scrutinising, examining every inch of your form, making you feel more exposed than you've ever felt in your life. 

The desperate urge to shy away works into your arms as you cross them over your chest, but Eddie's having none of it. He tugs at them gently, pulling them to your sides as his thumbs rub encouragement into your skin. 

“Sweetheart, there's a thirteen year old boy doing backflips in my head. Let him have a moment.” 

A little laugh you let out comes out as a snort whilst he gazes up at you in wonder. So, you give him a show, flicking your bra undone in one practised movement and sliding the straps down your arms, eventually letting it fall to the floor. 

“Jesus H Christ and all the angels.” He breathes, grip tightening on your forearms. 

A quivering hand reaches up, and to your surprise, cups your face. 

“You are so beautiful.” 

Eyes suddenly watering, you blink twice to will the onslaught of emotion away. 

“Not like Chrissy though,” you shrug, eyes downturned. 

“No, you're not like her. You're beautiful, like you.” 

Tugging you forward, he pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss, the full force of his feelings overflowing and filling your heart with heat. With a nibble to your bottom lip, he lets up for a second. 

“Can we go to my bedroom?” 

Nodding, you clamber off him and stand up. Eddie just makes a noise like you knocked the wind out of him, holding his hand to his heart. 

“What?” You ask, hands on your hips, like it was normal to be standing in front of him in just a pair of panties. 

“Don't look all stern like that, or I'm gonna bust in my pants,” he jokes, standing and crowding your back. 

The journey to the bedroom takes a while. Mostly because you can't keep your hands off of each other. He's grinning, giddy as a school boy, firm hands pressing into your sides, hips, ass. You respond in kind, nearly ripping his shirt in your efforts to remove it, only managing to unbutton the offensive material to expose his lean tattooed torso. 

Eventually, your spine hits Eddie's mattress, the soft furnishing welcoming you, begging you to sink in further. His touches are soft too, almost reverent in their delivery. He stands to remove his shirt and jeans, bulge prominent in his black trunks with little patterns on them. As he coaxes you further up the bed you squint and realise what they are. 

“Eds… are you wearing Star Wars underwear?” 

He chuckles, following your eyeline. “They are Darth Vader pants, to be specific, very manly.” 

The smile you flash him almost hurts your cheeks, the situation feeling so close to normal. Normal adjacent at least. 

“Yeah, very manly. Almost caveman like.” 

“Look, I didn't think I'd have a hot girl watching me undress tonight, let alone the woman of my dreams. Just forget the nerd pants.” 

You're laughing now, even when he's grabbing a pillow and getting you to lay on top of it, positioning you just where he wants you. Your giggles stop however, when he asks a question that steals your breath away. 

“Do I need to put a towel down?” 

“That's very presumptuous of you.” You smile, batting your eyelashes at him. 

“Look, I'm just asking. I don't mind sleeping in a wet patch I just want you to be comfortable.” 

He hovers over you, lips pressed into a line of concern. pressing your mouth to his to will the tightness away, you whisper into his face. 

“You want me to stay?” 

“Sweetheart, I'd ask you to move in tomorrow.” 

The next kiss is a searing heat, all heaving tongue and grinding hips. His hand winds into your hair, tilting your head to get you just where he wants you. No longer the blushing boy, he's the confident man, taking just what he needs and giving you what you crave. It's fire, it's want, it's everything. 

“Eds?” You murmur into his mouth as your hips chase his form. 

“Hmm?”

“Get the towel.” 

Hopping off of you, he practically skips out of the room, leaving you to debate whether or not to take your panties off. As you finally decide to strip them, fingers wedged into the fabric, he returns. 

“Nope, just wait, please?” He asks, propping you up with ease to lay the towel down under you. So, you let go, allowing your arms to fall to your sides.

“Lemme look after you,” he says, climbing on top of you to plant open mouthed kisses to your neck. You nod, gasping when his teeth graze a sensitive spot on your neck. Short nails dig into his back as you whimper at the contact. 

“Right there princess, hmm?” He chuckles, mouthing at your neck. 

“Uh huh- oh fuck,” as he bites softly, tongue flicking out to lather at the spot. 

Moving down, his lips press to your collarbone, then down your chest, until he places a peck to your nipple. 

“I've been dreaming about these tits, but nothing can compare to the real thing,” his tongue darts out, swirling around the pebbled nub, sending goosebumps over your skin, “fuckin’ flawless sweetheart.” 

You want to say a smart remark, shaking your head, but all thoughts fly out the window when he sucks, rough fingers reaching out to rub the other. Back arching, your legs clamp on his little waist, saying their own prayer to keep him there. 

As he releases his mouth with a wet noise, the thoughts flood back, all barriers forgotten. 

“I've been thinking about you too, what you'd do, what it looks like,” you admit, truths flying free in the heat of the moment. 

“Yeah?” He smiles up at you, “been thinking about my dick?” 

“Yeah, how'd it feel in my mouth, how'd it feel inside me,” you breathe out as he continues his worship of you, tonguing and kissing at your tummy. 

“Fuck,” he says, hot air fanning over his wet string of loving kisses, “you're gonna kill me, saying shit like that.” 

“Don't die, I'll never find out,” you joke, breathing unsteady as he falls between your thighs, playfully nipping at the sensitive flesh. 

“Oh we wouldn't want that. How else could you know what this feels like?” 

Lifting your head, he locks eyes with you as he licks thickly over your clothed clit, pressing hard. 

“Oh Eddie, yes,” you wail, wriggling under his touch. 

He merely smiles in response, hooking rough fingertips into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down almost torturously slowly. They stick between your legs so much that your cheeks flush. Eddie doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, working them off your feet and tossing them on his bedside table. You briefly wonder if you're going to get them back, but then his lips are sucking at the soft skin on your ankle and you stop caring. 

Up, up, up he moves, showing each patch of skin just the same amount of love, until he reaches the crease where your thigh meets, tongue rippling over it. You huff in frustration, hips wiggling. 

“I'm getting to it sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to your mound, “I wanna savour this.”

Words of protest dissipate when he laps at you, rooting out your clit without a moment's hesitation. Any clandestine thoughts you had about this very moment are nothing compared to this. To the feel of Eddie sucking at your clit, his pillowy lips wrapped around it. To the sudden roughness of his fingers as they graze your entrance. To the breach of one, slipping deep inside of you, immediately seeking out your sweet spot. 

“Eddie, ri-right there, oh God!” 

He moans into you, vibrations tickling you in the most delicious way. It's an amazing feeling, but you can't help but think about the noises you're making. Maybe they're pathetic, and not what he's used to?  You bet he's heard some beautiful moans in his time. Some pretty blonde things with long legs and big tits. Girls who know what they're doing. Oh God, what if you start feeling him up and he laughs at you? What if- 

“Hey, sweetheart, you here?” 

He gazes up at you between your legs, eyes boring into you with the question. 

“Sorry, so sorry, I'm here I-” 

“Hey. Don't apologise. You in your head?” He asks, head resting on your thigh, “you know we don't have to do this right now.”

“No, no I want to, honest, it's just- I dunno, second guessing myself? I'm just thinking about-” 

“See? That's the problem. Stop thinking. Lie back and enjoy it. Just, get out of your head. No place I'd rather be.” 

His brown eyes are wide, wet with honesty. He was never able to hide his real emotions, at least not with you. 

“OK, I'm so- I'll enjoy it.”

“That's it. Close your eyes princess, and just feel.” 

Eyes fluttering shut, you concentrate on the feel. Of his lips, suckling softly at your clit, tongue running around the hood. Then, fingers slipping inside once again, curling within you. Moans slither out of your hoarse throat as your hips roll up to meet his lips. 

“That's it, so good for me,” he mumbles into you, “doing such a good job. You sound so sweet.” 

Sweet. You sound sweet. 

In that instant, all your hang ups begin to melt away. The pleasure he's giving you is hitting just right, making you forget all your worries. Pressure builds in your tummy; a whirling, winding force hitting you from the inside out. You're squirming, but it's as if someone outside of you is letting you know. It must be Eddie's firm palm, the one that presses into your abdomen, keeping you steady. Keeping you here, in this moment. 

There's no rush. Time loses all meaning. He could be between your thighs for minutes, hours, days. All you know is the ball of desire tightening within you is fit to burst, bubbling over in a melting pot of raw emotion. 

“Eddie, I'm so close, s-so close!” 

He doesn't falter, doesn't deviate in his ministrations. He continues, tongue circling, fingers curling so deep inside you think you can see God. A swirling, cloying heat encapsulates you, winding around that feeling you buried in your heartstrings and tugging it loose. That deep emotion you pushed aside years ago, a healed splinter, set free by the love and care he's pouring out of his flowing tongue.

It reaches its crescendo, vision darkening as every nerve is coddled with an inner fire. You're not even sure what you feel; release, blinding pleasure, pure love? It could be all three as you cry out, fingers tugging at Eddie's hair. 

He rides it out with you, fingers coaxing your orgasm to the very brink and beyond until you flop back into the bed. 

The first clue you have that something different just happened is the wet feeling underneath your ass. It feels damp, and cold? Opening your eyes, you haul yourself onto your elbows to look down. 

“Now are you glad I said about the towel?” 

Never have you seen so much of your own release coated on a man. It's covering his mouth, chin, cheeks, hand. You briefly wonder at how it could have happened, how that much could have come out of you. 

Eddie wipes his mouth and hand on the towel underneath and makes his way to hover over your heaving form, eyes practically shooting hearts at you from deep within.

“You alright princess? We can stop right now if it's too much.” 

Blindly you reach out, clumsy fingers rubbing at the hard swelling of his member inside his underwear. 

“Don't you want me to return the favour?” You ask, confused. 

“Sweetheart, one kiss of those pretty lips on my dick and I'll be done for.” 

“Then- I'm on birth control. Fuck me, please.” 

The groan that he lets out is deep and guttural, moving his limbs for him. He gets up to whip his pants down and you see it for the first time. You see him. 

It's big. Fuck, its the biggest you’ve seen; not just long but thick, even thicker than your fumblings thought. A glint of silver throws you for a loop, almost making you think you imagine it, but there it is again. 

“Holy shit, Eddie- are you, pierced??” 

“Oh yeah,” he chuckles, glancing down to follow your eye line, “you didn't know about that huh.” 

He climbs on top of you, kissing as he goes, plush lips on your skin. Soft, delicate, and warm. Guiding his hardness to your opening, you can't help but rub your thumb over the tip, pre cum slipping on the balls of the piercing. Eddie's breath stutters, nearly panting in your mouth as you smirk. 

“Now that's not fair sweetheart.” 

You continue to smile, gathering your slick to slide him in, but it quickly turns into a wince. 

“Fuck, Eddie, you're too big,” you whimper out as your eyes screw shut. 

“You're fuckin’ flattering me princess.” 

“I'm not, seriously, you're- oh goddamn-” 

He's pushing into you, slowly, but it still burns, the sheer stretch at his girth almost too much. Gnawing at your lips, tears well in your eyes. 

Eddie looks shocked, taken aback by your reaction. 

“Really? Fuck, OK sweetheart, you're OK. Look at me, you can take it, yeah?” 

Trust Eddie to say the hottest thing by accident. He's just trying to check in, but by God it sets your insides on fire. 

“I-I'll try.”

“That's it, atta girl, little more.” 

Reaching down to where you're joined, you wrap your hand loosely around the base, realising he's only halfway in. 

“Eddie, jeez you could- oooh- you could have f-fucking warned me, ah!” 

“Just relax, I've got you princess, you're taking it so well, you can take the rest- oh Jesus H Christ you're tight.”  

A long drawn out cry echoes out of you as he bottoms out, tears loose and running down your temples. He's leaning on his elbows, fingers stroking at your hair, leaving snowflake kisses on your cheeks. 

“Uh- mmmph- Eddie, you've got a pornstar dick.” 

Gritting his teeth, he looks at you almost sternly.

“You can't say that or I'll cum right now, please.” 

Eyes softening, you kiss his lips instead. He envelops you, tongue dancing in your mouth making you forget the dull ache. Nothing can make you forget how full you feel however, your pussy quivering uncontrollably around him even though he's not moving. 

“This is so nice,” he says, entwining his fingers with yours over your head. 

“Eddie, you're literally balls deep in me and it's ‘nice’?” 

Laughing so hard you feel it in your chest, he kisses you again. 

“Sorry, I mean, just being this close with you. It's everything I've ever wanted.” 

Lips quivering, you stare at him, eyes wide and wet. 

“Eddie, I lo-” 

“No, don't. Not like this. Just- can I move?” 

You nod, biting back the words, and he slowly rolls his hips. Eyes nearly hitting the back of your skull, you moan, meeting his movements. He's so deep, it's like he's everywhere. Every pore, every capillary, pulsing with him. 

“Oh my God, baby, oh God!” 

You're rambling words but it doesn't seem to matter, mind filled with fog, with feeling. With him. He links one arm under the fat of your thigh, coaxing you to curl it around him, and everything seems to fall into place all at once. Each rolling movement is pressing into that sweet spot inside of you, that spot he seems to find so easily like a gravitational pull. He smiles, panting in tandem. 

“Right there princess?” 

Nodding like a puppet on a string, he lets out a long groan. 

“Good, I-I’m not gonna last, you feel too fuckin’ good.” 

Pleased at his reaction, you link one arm around him, stroking at the taut skin of his back as he drives into you harder. Grunting with each thrust, he's tensing, holding back. 

“You can come, Eddie,” you say shakily. 

“Not before you sweetheart,” he replies, doubling down on his efforts. 

It all feels so intense, each whirl of feeling sinking deep into your bones and fanning the flames of your heart and desire. 

“Eddie, s-so close, come with me, please.” 

Almost as soon as you say the words your climax springs out, overflowing with every emotion he won't let you say. It fizzes through your nerves, throbbing with each beat of your pulse. 

Eddie groans, releasing at the same time, two bodies with one heart. As you both relax, melding together, you giggle at the same time. A laugh of relief, of pure happiness. 

“Sorry, thought I'd last a little longer.” 

He seems embarrassed, lifting his head enough to look you in the eye. 

“Eddie, that was perfect.” 

He snuggles his head deep in your neck, inhaling your scent as if it were the last time. 

“I'm gonna get you cleaned up, hang on.”

Lifting his head once more, he kisses, and kisses, lips moving against you with pure feeling. 

“OK, now I'm really gonna go.” 

You giggle as he just keeps kissing you, staring up at him with each unspoken word swimming in your mind. 

“Right, now, just hang on.” 

With a final peck, he slips out of you, returning with a warm cloth. Not used to this affection you merely lay there, allowing him, and wriggle out of the way when he takes away the towel. When you move, you see there's still a wet patch, but it's been mitigated at least somewhat. 

“I can change the sheets if you want-” 

“Eddie, I don't care, just hold me.” 

Grinning like a boy he climbs back into bed, pulling blankets over the both of you. Fitting together like you were always supposed to, you sigh with relief. 

“Eddie? Can I say it now?” 

You whisper it into his chest as he holds you close, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the evening. 

“That depends sweetheart,” he says, fingers tracing unknown patterns on the skin of your arm, “you have to mean it. I couldn't take it if you didn't mean it.” 

“I mean it. I love you Eddie, I think I always have.” 

The smile in his voice makes you smile too.

“I love you too. Happy Valentine's Day."

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes

[ihavethedreamies]

Second Choice | San [NSFW]

Choi San - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~11.1k O_o

Pairing: San x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Actual Plot, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Friends-to-Lovers, One-Sided Love, Sharing a Bed, Comfort

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Precious, Sweetheart, Love, Pretty/Sweet Girl, etc.), Nightmares/Bad Dreams, Tears and Crying, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Kind of a Love Triangle, Kissing, Dirty Talk, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation (Just a tad),  Dacryphilia (Kind of), Creampie Kink (Not really Breeding so…), Marking/Hickeys/Scratches, Wall Sex, Window Sex, Mirror Sex, Big Dick! San, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill), Multiple Rounds

Author's Note: Holy Fuck, look at what I did 🫢. This is…long, as you can see. There is about equal parts fluff and angst and possibly even more smut. Had this brewing in my head for a few days after I went down a San rabbit hole. I went through a roller coaster ride of emotions writing this, so good luck reading it, my dudes.

Wooyoung is not in this, but he is mentioned and is somewhat of a love rival? Also Reader has a dog in this, so sorry if you don't like dogs or something…

PS. The middle pic of the banner is Mark and Renjun 🤪

Revised (1/31/25) - I forgot to change the name to (Y/N), so I fixed it!

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Glancing at the clock, tick-tick-ticking away, you sigh; 2:38 am. It’s much, much too early (or too late) to be awake, but you know there’s no way you can fall asleep. The first nightmare wasn’t nearly as bad, so you were willing to go back to sleep, but when it happened again, you just couldn’t. So, you’re sitting on the couch, some random rerun playing on the TV. You have to keep the volume low, not wanting to wake San up. He’s sleeping with the door open so his cat can come and go. Byeol is sleeping in the armchair and you’re jealous that he can do so in peace. San’s staying in Wooyoung’s room while he’s gone, and since your sister had somewhere to be that weekend as well, you’re home alone. It freaks you out to be alone in such a big place, never really having lived on your own. San offered to stay with you, and you were a bit reluctant to agree, but did so. It’s not that you aren’t close with San, you are, since Wooyoung is your roommate, it’s just odd without Wooyoung there too. Turning around to glance behind the couch, you dog is snoring away in her dog bed, laying on her back, legs folded down over her chest. She’s so sweet, but she’s a husky and therefore makes the bed way too hot for her to sleep with you. Every so often, you have really bad nightmares, and normally slip in next to your older sister and be able to sleep in peace. However, she isn’t home, so you have to sit on the couch and watch the TV, at an hour where nothing good is on.

“Why are you up?” San’s voice startles you, and you spin around again to look where he’s coming from behind you. Your dog’s soft snores stop, but she doesn’t even roll over from her spot, falling back to sleep easily.

“Nightmare.” You shrug, turning back around and he shuffled sleepily around the couch to sit next to you.

“Couldn’t go back to sleep?” His eyes are almost closed, and his hair is mussed up. He’s wearing a pair of thin black pants with a thin sweater to sleep. The collar is very low, and paired with his wide shoulders, you can see most of his toned chest. By that point, you’re used to it, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t tempted to ogle him.

“No. I…Uh, normally crawl into bed with Nara, but…” You shrug again, pulling your fluffy robe back up to cover your shoulder, only in a thin tank top underneath. Picking at a stray string on your own thin pajama pants, you feel antsy under his gaze.

“What about Cookie?”

“She’s too warm…” You both sit in silence for a good minute or two, and you try to just watch the TV. It seems he’s thinking.

“Um, I’m going to use the bathroom… Do you… Do you want to sleep in my- Wooyoung’s bed with me?”

“No! I…I mean…” You clear your throat.

“I… That’s fine, but would you mind…using my bed?��� You cannot sleep in Wooyoung’s bed, especially with San. You’re willing to try anything at this point, feeling exhausted, and you really need to sleep. Last time you tried to tailor a dress while so tired, you poked your fingers at least seven times.

“Yeah, be right back.” He flashes a sleepy smile, shuffling toward the bathroom, the sweater crooked, revealing part of his shoulder. Licking your lips, mouth suddenly dry -nervous- you shut the TV off, but hesitate to get up. When he comes back out, you finally force yourself up and you lead him toward your bedroom. Taking a deep breath, you open the door, your light string around the room glowing a gentle deep pink.

“You need that off?” you ask him, pointing at the lights.

“No.” He moves toward the bed, turning back to look at you, waiting. Swallowing hard, you undo your robe, acting like you’re naked underneath. After is falls, you dash to get under the covers, embarrassed about your think top and lack of bra. Gently, he gets on the other side, and you lie down stiffly, flinching when he pulls the blanket over himself, the higher up on you. Your face heats and since you have no makeup, you’re sure he can see you get red. Maybe not in the low light…

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” San’s voice is very soft, and you feel like crying. You’re not for sure if you’re just that flustered or embarrassed, or what. Just replying with a nod, you turn on your side, not really able to look at his face, but his hand is already up between the two pillows. Your hand shakes a bit, reaching for him, and he gives you a warm smile, linking his fingers with yours. He isn’t the biggest of the friend group, but he’s still much bigger than you, his hand nearly swallowing yours completely.

“I’m right here, you can go to sleep.” He whispers and you let your eyes close, hoping he can’t see the tears hanging on your lashes. It’s still taking you a while to fall asleep, lying there with your eyes closed for nearly half an hour. At this point, you’re more distracted with his hand holding yours than the thought of having another nightmare. San’s always so soft and gentle with you, despite his harsh appearance. He’s sweet and is always careful to make sure you aren’t too uncomfortable. You know, deep down, he probably likes you, but you just ignore the idea. It’s like some weird love mismatch going on. Your sister is in love with her friend-with-benefits, Wooyoung likes your sister, you like Wooyoung, and San likes you. You know Wooyoung likes your sister, but he has no chance in hell. Your sister is enamored with Younghoon, and the only reason they aren’t an actual couple is because she’s in denial, afraid of commitment, and doesn’t like feeling feelings.

Still being most awake, you have to make sure and hold completely still when you barely feel his fingers brush a stray strand or two of hair off your forehead. You hear and feel him shuffle just a bit closer, not having to far in your full-sized bed. Holding as still as you can, you tense further when he lightly presses a kiss to your forehead. You bite the inside of your lip to keep it from quivering. Only relaxing when he settles, you don’t open your eyes till you can tell he’s asleep from the way his breathing changes. Blearily, you look over his face, so peaceful and pretty. Despite falling asleep, his hand is still just as secure in yours. You wonder what time it is, and as you do, sleep slowly overcomes you as well.

~₸o₸~

When you wake up in the morning, your bed is empty next to you, and you can hear Cookie eagerly inhaling her food.

“Slow down, you’ll end up throwing up.” You hear San scold the dog and when you roll over to get out of bed, the clock reads 11:47.

“Shit!” You sit up quickly, yanking your tank top and pajama pants off, slipping on a bra, white t-shirt, and max dress over. Your hair is messy in its braid, but once you take it out, your hair falls in nice soft waves. Your feet softly thump on the hardwood floor as you job down the hall.

“Sorry I slept so late!” You call to hime, he’s resting against the counter, watching the husky rapidly crunch on her food.

“It’s okay!” He assures and you dash past the kitchen, toward your studio to start working. It’s good you work from home.

“I think it’s because I fell asleep so late!” The only reason he hears you was because he follows after you, plopping down in your rolling chair as you start getting pins and thread out.

“When do you have to go to practice?” San’s a dance instructor and it’s extremely convenient that his studio is just across and down the street a bit from your apartment complex.

“Three.” He gets up, turning the chair around so he can sit in it backwards, backrest to his chest. You huff, tucking hair behind your ear again, but it falls into your view again. Grumbling, you grab your glasses off the table, putting them on to rest on the end of your nose to get the right angle to focus on where you’re doing a difficult stitch. Gladly you can hear his footsteps on the wood floor; you’re able to prevent a flinch when his fingers find your hair. Kneeling behind where you are to get the right height, you force yourself to continue the stitch, just very slowly as he braids your hair for you. Not having a normal hair tie, he grabs a stray rubber band from your kit to tie the end.

“Thanks.” You murmur, pretending to be focused to hide your reaction. You hope your head is bowed enough he can’t see your red cheeks.

“What do you want for lunch?” You try to maintain some kind of casual normalcy. He hums and you can hear the chair roll and inch when he sits back down. Him watching you never fazed you before, but his gaze feels like fire on your back.

“Pizza?”

“Sure, if you get my phone, you can reorder what we got last time.” You wave toward your device on the desk next to you.

“Code?”

“Same as the front door.”

He types in the number, and you hear it click open, and he taps away on it. Glancing over at him, your eyes focus on where his partially unbuttoned shirt it tucked into his pants. You’d hemmed that pair of jeans so he wouldn’t have to pin them tighter anymore.

“Use the 3033 card?”

“Yes.”

“Twenty-three minutes.” He tells you, placing the order then goes to sit back down.

“How much?”

“Like eighteen.”

“Can you get me the thread in slot L-2?” you ask, motioning behind you toward the thread storage. He rolls over and you hear shuffling, keeping your hand out so he can rest the spool in it. Expecting him to just hand it to you, he actually gets out of the chair and sits on the floor next to you.

“What are you doing?”

“Buttons in this fabric tend to get loose easily, or fall off, so I’m having to fasten them differently. You deftly and quickly start your task, and he marvels at how fast you do it. Tying the thread off, you stick the needle in the pincushion you have on your wrist, grabbing a longer one again.

“You’re really good at his.” San looks at the smooth stitches you have done, even though they’re by hand, not machine.

“Practice.” You let a small smile grace your lips.

“Do you always do everything by hand?”

“Depends on what I’m doing most of the time, but some clients want it completely hand sewn.” You pull a pin out, dropping it back into the little box and continuing. You fall back into rhythm even with his intense gaze watching what you’re doing. His fingers mess with a scrap of fabric lying on the floor, then he picks it up, weaving random pins through it, trying to mimic what you’ve done.

“Can you teach me to sew?”

“Probably. It’s not hard. Getting to this point is though.”

“Did you teach Wooyoung?” Your hands freeze at the question, heart thudding harder.

“N-no. Well, I tried, but he kept poking himself.” He laughs.

“Sounds about right- ow!” Your eyes flick to him, sticking the end of his finger in his mouth, putting the pin riddled fabric down on the desk.

“Like that~” You giggle, and he huffs bashfully. He keeps watching, getting up quickly when the doorbell rings so he can get the pizza. Finishing your stitch, you take the pin cushion off and make sure there isn’t anything sharp on the floor, then lay your glasses down as well.

“Hot, hot!” He breathes hard through his mouth, trying to cool off the bite as you walk out. He wasn’t expecting the sauce to still be so hot, but the pizza place is very close. It only takes so long since it’s busy for lunch. You let him talk while you both eat, and you only partially listen, not understanding most of it anyway; some video game you haven’t ever played and have no knowledge of.

“I think I’m going to head to the studio now.” San helped you clean up, then sits on the edge of the entryway to get his shoes on.

“Bye, (Y/N)!” The door shuts, leaving you staring at it. Sight Deeply, you go back to your work, trying to not let your thoughts loop out of control.

~ų-ų~

Your eyes fly open, chest heaving, sweat pooling at the small of your back. Breathing hard, you stare at the small star-like dots on your ceiling.

“Fucking-“ You sit up, leaning forward and rubbing over your face with your hands. Huffing, you throw your comforter to the side and get out of bed. Stomping over to your dresser, you put on the pajama shirt that matches your pants over your tank. Grabbing your phone, you shuffle out to the living room, hesitating before dropping yourself and your device onto the couch. Looking toward the door to the other bedroom, it’s slightly propped open for the cat. Your dog is noticeably absent, so you walk softly over to the door, peaking in. Cookie is laying at the foot of the bed on a spare blanket San most likely had laid out, Byeol loafing in the curve of the husky’s body. The sight makes you smile, and you glance to where San is sleeping. Laid out like a starfish, the blanket hits him around the middle, and one of his feet is sticking out from under.

“(Y/N)?” His voice catches your attention when you start to step out of the doorway.

“Y-yeah?”

“Did you have another nightmare?”

“Yes.” When he starts to get out of bed, you try to protest.

“Come on.” He ignores your stumbling words, sliding past you in the doorway, his hand grabbing yours as he moves. He leads you back to your room, getting into your bed without hesitation.

“San-“ You get in as well, but stay sitting up as he lies down.

“Just…sleep.” He mumbles, grabbing the back of your shirt and pulling you down into his arms. Shuffling under you so he can get more comfortable, your head ends up resting on his shoulder, his other arm around your waist. He falls back asleep fast, his fingers that were running over your hair stilling. Your heart is thudding hard, you can even hear it pulsing. How the hell are you supposed to fall asleep like this? You ponder the question, but at the same time, your eyes are growing heavy, and sleep is washing over you. At first, you’re only about half-asleep, somewhat aware still of his soft breathing. Right as you begin to actually go to sleep, you feel a soft press on the corner of your mouth. This wakes you up fully, but you manage to keep your eyes closed, body limp. Did he just kiss you? His fingers are back to running over your hair, “you have no idea, huh?” His voice is so quiet that even though your nose is near his throat, you barely hear it. San sighs, kissing your forehead, you can tell this time for sure. Finally, you can’t fight sleep off, and fall asleep in his arms.

~T3T~

Once again, when you wake up in the morning, he’s already out of bed. You can’t hear anything else, and when you glance at the clock, it’s a little past 9. Getting up with a stretch, you look to the empty side of your bed. Giving in to your intrusive thoughts, you pull the side of the comforter he’d been using up to your nose and you sigh. Smells like him, and you hate how good that makes you feel. Dropping the blanket like it’s got, you scamper out of bed and make your way down the hall. Peaking around the archway that leads into the main room of the apartment, you see he’s not in the kitchen and the bathroom door is open. Your dog barks happily and comes to greet you and as you pet her, you notice a note on the counter. He’s gone out to do some things and lets you know he’ll be back for supper. You aren’t sure if you’re disappointed or relieved at this. You only have two, maybe three more nights before your sister returns; Wooyoung is supposed to not long after. You’re worried what you might let, or want to, happen the longer you’re there with San, just the two of you. For some reason, you feel horrible about your rising affections with San, but you have no commitment to Wooyoung in any way but your own feelings toward him. It would probably be better if you try to move on, but there’s a small part of you that hopes your sister will get with Younghoon, then Wooyoung can move on and go to you. While you logically understand that will probably not happen, you still hope.

Continuing with your day as normal, you finish the suit you’d been working on and are able to move on to a dress that was commissioned. You enjoy making whole ensembles more than making adjustments and other altering jobs. Going over the list, you see you have nearly all of the materials and supplies already, but you most likely will need even more of the right color thread. You can wait a bit though, since you aren’t sure when you’d run out. As you’re rechecking your list, your phone starts to ring. Hitting the answer button and putting it on speaker, you put all the supplies on the desk.

“This is (Y/N).”

“Hello, Miss Hwang. I’m a delivery driver for Blooming Day Flowers. I’m just wanting to make sure you’ll be at home in the next fifteen minutes?”

“Oh, uh, yes.” You have no idea who could have sent flowers.

“Great, thanks!” He hands up and you blink back at the flashing ‘call ended’ on your phone. Trying to keep going with your job, it’s hard, your thoughts wandering to who the heck sent flowers. When the bell rings, you quickly go to the door and the man on the other side smiles, holding a bouquet of flowers in a vase. There are two different purple flowers, some a golden yellow, and more smaller white filler flowers.

“Oh, thank you!” You take the bouquet, and the man has you stamp on his clipboard. He takes his leave, and you move further into the apartment, door shutting behind you. Placing the vase on the counter, you pluck the little card from the top, reading the text on the front.

“Praying for a good night’s sleep! Inspired by holistic sleeping-remedy flowers: Lavender, Passionflower, California Poppy and Valerian!” You read out loud, figuring out who it’s from before you flip the card around. You have to take a deep breath, fighting back tears once again.

Thought this might help? ~San

You take several measured, deep breaths. It doesn’t work, a tear rolling down your cheek before you can stop it. Placing your hand down on the counter, you don’t have to get close to the bouquet to smell the fresh lavender. Not normally one for flowers, this is the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you. You lick your lips, letting out a shuddering breath, you can taste the salt of your tears. You’d thought he has a crush on you -something small- but this? It seemed like he lo-

“Fuck.” You jaw clenches, the card crinkling where your thumb presses it too hard. Sniffing aggressively to prevent your nose from running, you let the card go, smoothing it out a bit. You sniffle had again, upset with your own mixed emotions and stomp back to your studio. You were trying but failing to continue working without getting tears and snot on the red fabric.

~τ-τ~

“(Y/N)! I got food!” You hear him easily even though you’re back in your room, the door closed. For the last house you’ve been sitting on the floor, back to the wall, facing your bed. You had tried lying down, but the comforter still smells like him. You tried to read and distract yourself, but you kept getting the pages wet. Tears are still drying on your face and new ones come up when you hear his voice. You’re so tired at that point, head pounding. Your hand is at your mouth, arms crossed on top of your knees, and you bite at your thumbnail. Working for another three hours after you got the delivery, you put it out of mind, but everything came back when you spotted them on the counter, coming out of your studio.

“(Y/N)?” San calls again, but you still don’t reply.

“(Y/N)?” He’s coming down the hall and you get up reluctantly, sniffing hard while grabbing a tissue. You blow your nose, and he knocks on the door.

“Come in.” Your voice is a bit hoarse and when he comes in, seeing your eyes and cheeks red, tissue rubbing at your nose, his face falls.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He immediately comes forward, hands going to your cheeks, thumbs running over the skin.

“J-just…” You force a smile.

“I was moved from you sending me flowers, then I was reading…” Your lie is pretty believable since your book is still open, face down on the bed.

“Oh.” He slumps in relief, and you wish he hadn’t removed his hands from your face.

“You really liked the flowers?” His brow furrows nervously.

“Yes, San. They’re…” Your breath shudders but you cover it with a soft chuckle.

“They’re beautiful, and so thoughtful.” You play with the balled-up tissue in your hand, not able to look him in the eye.

“Good! I got food from the place on the corner you like so much.” He leads you out to the main room and you slowly follow. You try to maintain your normal attitude while you eat, and it gets easier as you both joke and he tells you about his day. Your phone dings and you glance down. When the name registers, your entire body stiffens and you exhale hard, picking the device up to look at the message.

You doin’ good? Is Sannie playing nice?

Wooyoung…

“Is it Woo?”

“Yeah.” You nod a bit, typing out a simple ‘yes’, and send it. His phone dings then as well and he scoffs at what he reads.

“He knows you’re lying.” San shoots you a deadpan look and your jaw drops a bit, then you clear your throat.

“Why does he think that?”

“You didn’t capitalize it. It’s too short too.” San sticks his tongue against his cheek, making it poke out. You roll your eyes.

“Bitch.” You sneer, grabbing the phone and redoing the message.

I’m not lying. I’m busy. Grow up.

You aren’t normally terse with him like that. He’d definitely know something is up. Backspacing, you redo it once again.

I’m not lying. We’re busy eating. I’m fine, and yes, San is being nice. Really nice.

You hit send and you don’t get a reply after he reads it, but San’s phone goes off. He glares at what he sees, not bothering to reply himself, putting his phone face down on the counter; he even mutes it.

“What did he say?” You’re curious but try to maintain a neutral tone.

“Little shit, just something about not becoming your new best friend.” It’s a lie and you know it, but let the topic drop.

“I’m going to play a game with the guys for a bit, do you want to watch?”

“You’re gonna use Woo’s computer?”

“Sure am.” He smiles, his dimples revealing themselves. You consider it, then you’re about to say yes, then consider it again.

“I think I’ll finish the show I started the other day.” You tell him and he shrugs, going off to do what he said after cleaning up his dishes. You haven’t finished yet, so you take the last few bites, then just leave the dish in the sink. Slumping over to the couch, you put on the show and only kind of watch it. You’re rewatching it anyway…

~ò×ó~

“Fuck!” You sit up, your heart beating so fast, breathing so hard you feel like you’d just run a mile. Not caring how bad it messed up your hair, you bury your fingers in at the scalp, pulling on the strands to center yourself in the waking realm. Why the hell were your nightmares coming back so strong? In the low pink light of your room, you glare at the bouquet of flowers on your dresser. They did jack shit…

“Don’t take it out on the flowers…” You scold yourself, sitting back against the headboard. You do so quite hard, enough so to rattle the frame, and the attached nightstand. The glass of water you had on it falls over, the glass shattering on the hard wood.

“Shit!” You almost get out of bed, then move to go to the other side so you don’t land barefoot on glass.

“(Y/N)?” San peaks his head in, not in his pajamas yet, so he must’ve just gotten done with his game.

“Hey, wait!” He stops you as you move to start picking up the pieces, slippers on just in case. He’s in crocs, so he takes the trash can from you, using his sleeve over his hand to gently pick up the fragments and throw them out. He looks up when you hand him a roll of tape. He pulls the section off and tears it off, smacking it against the floor to pick up any small bits that might be left.

“What happened?” San throws the tape away too and you put the bin back down.

“I…I had another nightmare, and so I rattled the bed frame and the glass on the nightstand fell…”

“Another? Maybe you can’t sleep without me~?” He smirks playfully, but it falls when he notices you don’t even twitch your lips.

“Give me like five minutes.” He holds his hand up to motion for you to wait, heading back down the hall. Sighing you sit on the bed, feet on the floor. Staring at a small scratch on the wall that was left by your keys when you tripped and caught yourself once, you ponder what your bad dreams might mean. Why were you have so many? You almost never had more than one in such a short time frame. Was it really just from not having your sister around? That doesn’t make sense…

“Here, let’s get to sleep.” San comes back in, wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Seriously? Out of all the things he could possibly wear, he has to put on that? Did he not know what the simple combination does to girls?

“Come here.” He’s gotten under the covers, arms open, waiting for you. Swallowing hard, you lie back down in his embrace, feeling comforted already. That scares you, honestly, almost more than the bad dreams.

“What are you thinking about?” He sees your pensive face.

“Nothing-“

“No. Tell me.” You huff in reply.

“Did…Did you kiss me yesterday night?” You feel him stiffen, much like you normally do.

“I did, on the forehead-“

“No. Tell me.” You shoot back at him. San stays quiet for a second and you can almost hear the wheels in his head turning.

“Yes.” His reply is soft, like the kiss on the corner of your mouth from before.

“What do I have no idea about?” He really hadn’t thought you were awake, and he shifts nervously before responding. The man is taking his sweet time, and you’re about to give up, not having the energy to press the issue.

“How much…I like you…” He finally gets out; your suspicions are confirmed. He thought you’d flinch, stiffen up, even hitch your breath, but he gets nothing, so he pulls way enough to look at your face. It’s flat, but your eyes are glossy.

“How much?” His eyes widen at your question.

“How much?” He repeats.

“How much do you like me?” He licks his lips, nervous, but then the nerves seem to dissipate. The hand on your waist goes up to cup your cheek, the arm under your head wrapping around your shoulders. When his lips lightly touch yours, you at first thought the contact generated a static shock. But he doesn’t flinch back, instead he fully presses his lips to yours. You shiver, easily melting into the kiss. Your hands fly up to cup his jaw, the ends of your fingers burying into his hair. He grunts, rolling a bit so he’s leaning over you some. You whine when his hand rests on your hip, thumb brushing the exposed skin from where your tank top had rode up. Your hands move down, one going to scratch at the hair on the nape of his neck, the other slinking under the collar of his shirt, over his broad back. San takes the opportunity when your whine slightly parts your lips, tongue brushing the lower one. You let him in, whining louder as his tongue tastes yours. He’s over you complete then, forearm easily holding his weight over you, the hand on your hop slipping lower past the waistband of your sleep pants. Deep down, you know you shouldn’t, know you might regret it, feel horrible, feel like you used him, feel like you’re somehow betraying Wooyoung…

“(Y/N)-“ San pulls away from the kiss, both of your lips starting to swell from the pressure, saliva leaving a strand of connection.

“Just- please- need you-“ You heave out and he groans. Making sure he’s still closer enough to brush his lips over you, he gets up on his knees, kneeling over you more, one thigh pressing between yours to keep your legs open. He wrestles with his shirt a bit, pulling away enough to get it over his head and off, his mouth sealing back to yours as the throws the shirt behind him somewhere. As San’s tongue runs over your own, the roof of your mouth, your teeth, anywhere it can reach, you can’t help but feel over him. His soft skins stretches over his toned chest and abs, his broad shoulders and back leading down to his narrow waist. While he swallows your tongue and moans, his hands deftly undo the buttons of your pajamas shirt, hauling you up to sit so he can take it off. Your tank is swiftly removed as well, joining his own shirt somewhere on the floor. He bites your lip when he pulls back from the kiss, leading a trail down to your jaw, neck, over your throat and collar bone. His hands on your bare skin feel searing, one on your lower back to lead you to lift your hips. San leads you to wrap your still covered legs around his waist, his other hand cupping your breast, kneading the flesh, the skin pebbling into goosebumps from the sensation. You gasp hard as his lips warp around one of your nipples, and at the same time, he grinds his growing hard-on into your rapidly soaking cunt through bout of your pants. He’s spurred on by your breathing picking up, soft moans escaping you. As he kisses over to and seals his lips over your other nipple, he wrestles your pants and panties off at the same time.

“S-San-!” Your whole body twitches as his fingers meet your glistening folds, the first easily sliding in, wiggling against your walls.

“Fucking soaked, precious.” He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and through your fingers pressing against him. You mewl when his kisses go back up to your neck, full on whimpering when his tongue licks a path from the bow of your collar bone and up to the base of your ear.

“Gonna fuck you so good, baby girl.” His low voice, right in your ear, takes your breath away, his second fingers spreading you open. He tries to chuckle at your yelp as he softly presses his teeth against the skin of your neck, sucking hard, working blood to the surface of your skin to leave his mark.

“W-wat-!” Your body shudders, back arching, head thrown back when he adds a third finger, his thumb pressing over your clit.

“Gotta get your cute little pussy ready, you’re too tight for my cock, love.” San’s nose runs over your throat, then rests his forehead on your collarbone. He looks down at where you’re sucking his fingers in, not able to hold in his mirth. He loves how tiny you feel under him, writhing and whimpering. He’s been waiting for this for so long, and he knows you’re vulnerable, and shouldn’t be taking the opportunity, but he’s weak. If you’re going to ask for him, he’ll give you what you want.

“Fu- God! San~!” Your cunt clenches his fingers, pulsing with your heart as he circles your clit, lips going back to hover over yours.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” He prompts and you immediately do, blunt nails digging into the skin of his upper back, head lolling against the pillow. San smirks above you, watching your eyes roll back in your head as your cunt spasms, soaking his hand. Your body shivers one last time as he removes his fingers, barely registering as he laps his tongue over his fingers, groaning at your taste. Your tired eyes try to focus as he climbs off the bed, trying to also figure out what he’s doing. You yelp when his hands on your ankles yank you down the bed, the comforter falling to the floor and he kneels on it, leveling his face with your swollen cunt.

“San-?!” Your voice ends in a very undignified choking sound as he buries his tongue inside your core, filling the voice his fingers had left. He wasn’t planning on fucking you open with his tongue; you taste too fucking good. His strong hands grip your inner thighs, so hard he’s definitely going to leave bruises, holding you open. Your body is still weak from your orgasm, so you can’t fight him anyway. San presses his tongue against your gummy walls, pulling back so he can swipe through your golds, then circle your clit. You’re still sensitive, the sensation jolting you, he can feel your muscles spasm under his hands. Your next orgasm is coming on fast, and your fingers weave through his hair, trying to ground yourself through your hands, his own not allowing your hips to ride his tongue.

“S-San~!” You fall apart on his tongue that time and he eagerly drinks and swallows every drop that falls from your needy cunt, reveling in the pleasure he’s bringing over you. Kissing your swollen nub, you whimper, and he stands up; even though his pants are loose, they’re tight around his hard cock. Your eyes are glazed over, head rolling to the side, staring at the wall. Your gaze is drawn back to him as he pulls the waistband of his pants and boxers up and over his swollen dick, and your mouth waters when the clothing falls away, leaving him naked.

“Fuck.” You huff, still catching your breath and he can’t fight the smug grin that spreads over his face. No wonder he felt the need to prep you, you don’t even know if you can get your fingers all the way around him.

“Come here, precious.” He easily lifts you to haul you back up the bed, gently letting your head hit the pillow. The other he brings to rest under your lower back, finally letting you down. Your hips angle up allows him to sit up higher on his knees to give him better leverage. When the fat head of his cock meets your cunt, you clench your jaw, readying for the stretch,

“Wait, do I need a con-“

“Just fuck me, San.” You want to sound more assertive, but you just whine like a spoiled child.

“Okay, precious~” His smirk grows, and he wraps his arm around your left leg by the knee, the other leg spread with his hand on your inner thigh. When San starts to press in, you gas with each breath, trying to breathe though him splitting you open. You’re so tight around him, gummy walls erratically spasming around his cock, your wet heat feeling incredible. He groans low and long as your cunt swallows each inch of him, somehow accommodating his thick length.

“Such a good girl, sweetheart.” He coos as he bottoms out, adjusting your legs to spread you open even further, giving him a perfect view. You’re so wet, your slick already glistening on the base of his cock. Your entire body is in shock, almost. Everything seems to be spasming at him rearranging your guts, filling you so completely and wonderfully, you ponder if anyone could suffice after him. You’re already drunk on his delicious cock, and he hasn’t even moved yet. He can tell from having felt it on his fingers and tongue, that your cunt is throbbing, ready for you to cum again. He’s going to fuck you through your high so many times that tears would flow over your cheeks again, but from bliss instead of sorrow and frustration. He wants to fuck every little negative thought out of your pretty head, drive away the memory of the nightmares, wants to leave you with only thoughts of him; his hands, his lips, his tongue, his voice, his cock… He’s already making headway it seems.

“Can I move, precious?” San leans down to gently kiss at the corner of your mouth, tongue brushing over your bottom lip. You nod, whining, not able to think to get a word out. He barely pulls out an inch, making you whimper, the searing stretch filling you with painful pleasure. San artfully snaps his hips, the tip of his cock hammering your back wall and cervix, pelvis meeting your clit, sending you even closer to the edge. The next thrust is a little deeper, a litter harder, and your whole body goes limp; the third thrust nearly makes you black out. Your cunt spasms, squirting slick and wet over his groin and balls, core clenching around his cock so tight he had to breathe hard to hold back, He chuckles as your orgasm waves through you over and over, and he wonders how long you’ve needed to get fucked. He’s so glad he’s the one to do so, and he’ll eagerly do it again and again, till you’re dumb and stupid for him. A tiny voice inside him keeps repeating to him that he’ll always be able to fuck you better than Wooyoung, that his best friend would never be able to ravish you the way he’s planning. Over and over-

“San, please, please…” He isn’t sure what you’re begging for, but your high has laid, so he continues. Throwing your legs over his elbows, pressing closer to you so you’re nearly folded in half, he huffs a laugh.

“You want me to fuck you good, love?”

“Yes!”

“Want my cock to fuck you stupid?”

“Yes, fuck, please~!” His hips roll, leaving only a bit more than the head of his cock in you, before filling you fast and hard again. Your kind of already flimsy headboard thuds hard against the brick wall, creaking under the power of his hips slamming his cock into you, skin slapping, grunts leaving him and mewls leaving you. Your fingers turn white as they grip your sheets hard, worried that the worn material might tear despite your blunt nails.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect, (Y/N)~” San groans, letting one of your legs go so you wrap it around his narrow waist. The now free hand grips over the one you had up by your head, easing your fingers out of the sheets so they can instead weave through his. San’s lips fall back to yours, thrusts growing shallower but no less hard, you feel like he might dislodge a kidney with the strength behind each motion. As his pelvis meets yours, he grinds into your clit, and you’re growing closer to another orgasm, and he’s planning on letting go with you. He tries so hard to maintain his rhythm, almost having to just grind into you to keep control, fucking so deep inside, you think he’s in your throat.

“Cum for me, precious. Come on my cock.” San pulls back from the kiss, and his words grant your relief, your final climax really does make your vision go black, flashes of white dotting your vision and his voice rumbles through the room as his hot cum paints your insides white. He cums so much that his release spills out from where he splits you open, a mix of your cum dripping onto the sheets. You fall limp like a rag doll, eyes closed, chest heaving, little whines accompany each breath. He’s heaving for air as well, the emotions he felt from finally being inside you, pleasuring you, hits him. If he already liked you, he’s truly infatuated now, never wanting to leave your hold or your warmth.

~(\δωδ(\~

When consciousness finally washes over you, it takes you a second to figure out why the hell you’re so sore. Your thighs are sore, random spots on your neck and shoulders, your hips, back, and cunt. Everything hits you then, and your body protests as you wiggle on the bed, trying to get the strength to sit up. Your bed is once again empty despite having shared it for the night.

“Fuck…” You wince as your lower half pulses as you get out of bed, legs incredibly weak. You’re naked as the day you were born, and you pretty much limp over to the bathroom. After relieving yourself, you finally look in the mirror, gasping. There are several dark red and purple marks over your neck, shoulders and chest, one mark even has teeth marks.

“Choi San!” You scold despite his absence, rubbing the little bruises and wincing. You’re glad you work from home, because there’s no way to cover the hickeys in the middle of May. You take a shower, the hot water washing away many different layers from your body. You wince when the water flows over your sore pussy, still a bit swollen from being pleasantly ruined by San’s monster cock. Getting out of the shower, you get dressed in a matching tank top and shorts, the mint-colored fabric is soft and loose. There’s no way you can handle any pressure on your cunt, so you go commando. San’s already seen everything anyway. Nervously and shakily going down the hall to the main room, you hear the shower running. Cookie lifts her head from where she lays right in front of the door, slowly getting up and stretching before going to greet you.

“Good morning~” You coo at your pup and then limp over to the fridge; your dog whines a bit at your strange gait. She watches with interest as you pull some ingredients out of the fridge, needing some protein to compensate for the intense work out you’ve gone through. When your husky smells the bacon as soon as you open the package, she starts to wag her tail, whimpering.

“No begging.” You scold your dog, and she’s so well trained she simply hangs her head and trudges away, down the hall and presumably into your sister’s room. You barely hear the shower turn off and the door open over the popping and sizzling of the bacon and eggs in their pans. You assume he’d go to his room to get dressed, but you startle when he wraps his arms around your middle from behind.

“San, I’m cooking!” you scold, trying to pry his arms off of you. Your heart rate spikes, more from fear than bashfulness. You still haven’t processed what happened the night before, especially not emotionally.

“Sorry~” He giggles and lets you go, but only move to stand next to you. Your face is warm, and your eyes sting a bit, brow furrowing. Once all the food is plated and the heat of the stove is off, you turn to him, taking a step back.

“San, I think-“

“Let’s eat first, precious. I tired you out.” He takes both plates, walking around you to get to the dining table. You follow after him slowly and he pulls a chair out for you which you gratefully sit down on. Then you regret it, the hard wood pressing into your sore thighs and groin. You then notice he’s in a white tank top and blue track pants, towel around his neck. He always looks so good… Despite wanting to talk with him, you’re really freaking hungry, so you eat first, trying to ignore his warm and fond gaze. You know before you let him rail you into next week that you’d regret it. You do, you regret it and feel guilty; feel like you used him, feel like you betrayed Wooyoung… The final bite of food is harder for you to swallow along with the knot of emotions rising up. Your breath shudders, and he notices the tear fall from your eye and onto the empty plate.

“Hey, baby girl, what’s wrong?” He immediately get up, coming to your side and kneeling so he can look up at you. Your crying picks up then, your hands covering your mouth to try and muffle your sobs, scooting back and away from him.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You repeat between each sob that makes you gasp, desperate to let out the emotions that’ve finally boiled over.

“Oh, precious.” He sighs, trying to pull you into a hug, but you push your chair back further, standing up so fast the chair rocks, then falls back, clattering onto the floor. San stays where he is, feeling utterly helpless as you crumble to the floor. You ball your firsts on the wood floor, tears splatting on your skin and the floor. Despite wanting so bad to go to you, he stays in the same spot, not wanting to step over the line.

“God, I’m such a fucking bitch.” You whimper to yourself, and he can’t disagree more.

“No, no, precious girl, you’re not.” He finally gets up, kneeling back in front of you, but not trying to touch or hold you.

“Yes, I am! I… God, I used you. I took the chance, and I shouldn’t have. I…what about…” You heave for air, and he feels his heart breaking. Sighing, he shifts to sitting with his legs crossed instead, waiting patiently for you to calm down.

“What about Wooyoung?” Your voice is quiet, but not only did he know what you were going to say, he had a feeling that’s what your issue is. He feels a bit like he took advantage of you since you were obviously emotionally weak at the time. Why do you feel like that though? Does it hurt to see you so upset because of your feelings for his best friend? Of course. But he knew the situation going into it.

“I’m sorry, San. I can’t do this… You’re Wooyoung’s best friend-“

“Are you in love with Wooyoung, or is it just a crush?” His question throws you off.

“I…I don’t-“

“Why are you waiting for him when it’s possible he’ll never go to you? I’m right here.” He insists and you sniff, trying to stop your tears.

“But if there’s a chance-“

“Look, I didn’t want to go here, but… Wooyoung is in love with your sister, okay? He doesn’t just like her, or have a crush on her, he’s in love. If you’re not in love with him, you can drop it, right? …I’m right here.” His voice gets a bit unsteady, his own emotions becoming difficult to control.

“I think you should go home.” Your sobs have quieted, but that sentence pierces him harder than everything else. He wants to argue, try and convince you, but if you need space, he’ll give it to you.

~

By the time his bag is packed and he’s leaving Wooyoung’s room, you’ve gotten up off the floor, picked up the chair and are cleaning the dishes from breakfast.

“If you need anything…” He drifts off, hand on the doorknob. You trudge over to the door as he opens it, planning on locking the door with the chair after he’s gone. You won’t meet his eyes, and he prays desperately that you won’t have a nightmare that night without him, or anyone else, there.

“When the door closes, you slowly lock it with the chain, dropping your hand. He’s standing on the other side of the door, not wanting to leave yet. He closes his eyes tight when he hears you start to cry again. You lean against the door after it shuts, sliding to the floor in a heap, sobbing once again. You’re beginning to realize you like San…like him back. Maybe even more than Wooyoung, which terrifies you. Just over the short amount of time he’d been staying with you, he’s needled his way into your heart, more than just a friend. Little do you know, San is still on the other side of the door, trying not to cry himself listening to you sob. Your near wails quiet as new feelings bubble up. You thought you wanted him gone, so you can process, but thinking of him leaving shatters you.

“Please, please, please-“ He suddenly hears you speaking, stepping away from the door. He hears the chain rattle as you unlock the door, and open it. You aren’t expecting him to still be right there, but relief washes over you. You begin to cry again, more in relief, and he immediately goes back in. He drop his bag and returns your embrace, hugging him closer to you as you cry. San rests his cheek against the side of your head, petting your soft hair, a few tears of his own hitting your shoulder.

“(Y/N), oh sweet girl.” He sniffs, easily holding you when you go limp in his arms. You let him lift you princess style, refusing to loosen your arms’ hold around his neck and shoulders. Kicking the door closed, he carries you over to the couch, sitting down so you can sit on his lap. Your sobs cease, his hands rubbing comfortingly over your back.

“I’m sorry.” Your soft whimper hurts him; to hear you sound so defeated.

“(Y/N), precious, why are you so sorry?”

“I-I used you…”

“How?”

“I was upset and took advantage of your feelings for me.”

“I know.” You pull back abruptly, gaping at him.

“Sweetheart, I took advantage of you too. You were vulnerable-“

“San, San…” He starts to ramble nonsense, so you cup his jaw, bringing his attention back to you.

“I’m sorry I was being…” You lick your lips, thinking, “I let my feelings for Wooyoung cloud my real- You asked if I love Wooyoung? No, I don’t. It is just a crush…” Your thumb runs over his cheekbone, his wide, beautiful eyes shining up at you.

“I know that I’m not your first choice. I understand that. Honestly, I don’t care if I am your second choice, or even your third. All that matters, is that you choose me in the end.” You sniffle at his words, huffing a slightly sad laugh.

“I thought that there was only one choice, but…”

“But?”

“You’re right here.” You sigh, your own face softening; you’ve finally rationalized everything. Why your heart would thump so fast, why his actions would bring tears to your eyes… When you needed him to hold you to keep the nightmares away and why they came back when he wasn’t there…

“(Y/N)… I didn’t want to overwhelm you, but- I love you. I love you so much, I have for so long.” His own emotions are bubbling up, his own eyes tearing up along with yours.

“We’ve known each other, what, five years?” You nod, whimpering, trying to not cry harder.

“I started liking you three months in. It was when you went to adopt Cookie, and you were mobbed by all the puppies… You laid there, giggling, and I wanted to be one of those dogs. So bad.”

“F-for that long?” You’re so shocked you stop crying. San hums, rubbing your bag, hand slipping under your tank top.

“I’ve held back so much. Every time you have something on your lip, I want to kiss it off. If you’re cold, I want you to have my jacket. I want to buy every little charm or pretty thing that makes me think of you. To go to Namsan tower and put a lock on with you…” He stops when you slump forward, resting your cheek on his shoulder, and he hugs you closer. Your heart wanted to break earlier, but all his words fill the cracks in with gold.

“I’m sorry I was so blind, and selfish, and stupid. I’m sorry I can’t say ‘I love you’ back, because I really don’t know at this point. But I do know-“ You sit up to look at him, “I really, really like you. Will you forgive me for being a horrible person?”

“You’re not a horrible person, sweetheart. Not only are your emotions everywhere, you’re sleep deprived.” His hand goes to cup your cheek, brushing another stray tear away.

“Will you show me something?” You bow your head a bit, face reddening, hands fiddling with the bottom of his sweatshirt.

“Whatever you want, precious.”

“Can you show me again, how you feel about me?” Your voice is soft, a bit embarrassed, thinking of what you had asked him last night. Yes, you’re sore, but in the best possible way, and you want- need him again.

“Are you sure, pretty girl? I don’t think I can hold back like last night.” His voice is lower, but his gaze has sharpened. What the hell does he mean by that? He held back? What the fuck is he going to do that’s more intense than last night.

“You held back?” You question and he huffs, a sexy and smug smirk gracing his handsome face.

“Hm. I did. Can you handle me full force?” His eyebrow raises in question, and you swallow hard; he can hear it.

“I think I can…” Your voice is quiet, quivering, but you’re excite. Your cunt throbs, still sore but you’re getting hot quickly.

“I need a solid answer, precious.”

“Yes. I can.” His smirk glitches into a giddy smile for a second, but he gathers his composure.

“What should I do first…” He wonders aloud, many different possibilities running through his head.

“Can I make a suggestion?” You try to sound coy and smug like him, but it doesn’t really work.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“I…” You exhale carefully, normally not so shy, “I want to swallow your cock.” Your eyes flit up to look at him and his eyes roll back in his head as he groans.

“Precious, are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you-“

“I want you to fuck my throat, then cum down it~” You’re building your confidence back up from the response you’re getting from him. Your lips are at his ear, your tongue flicking the little earring he had in, then you kiss the side of his neck.

“On the floor then, baby girl.” He almost gasps at how fast you scramble off of his lap, eagerly and obediently sitting on your knees. You watch with wide eyes as he takes his sweatshirt off, then removes the tank he had on underneath. San bites his lip, trying to not giggle as you ogle him. He notices your hands twitch on your lap, ready to take his pants off yourself.

“Tell me, do you mind if I do all the work?” The intention is clear in his words and tone.

“Yes, please~” You shuffle in your crouch, but stay still. Your eyes zero in on the bulge in his pants, whimpering in need as he once again lets his pants fall. His cock is only about half hard; you wiggle your jaw knowing it will end up sore too. You want to be sore completely and all over when he’s done with you. His hand wraps around his cock, stroking it a few times, stepping forward so he’s withing reach, but you stay still.

“What a good girl you are~” He hums, and you eagerly open your mouth when the head of his dick touches your lips. You groan at the taste of him, swirling your tongue around the tip, sucking lightly.

“Fuck-“ San sighs, hands going to your hair, leading his cock deeper and deeper into your mouth. When he hits the back of your throat, you look up at him with wide, hazy eyes. As you hears you take a large inhale through your nose, he keeps going and your whole-body shudders as his cock goes down your throat. Your cunt clenches desperately against itself, not having anything inside to satisfy her.

“Of, fucking hell, sweetheart.” He groans, your nose pressing to his pelvis. He’s impressed you haven’t gagged yet, but you’re swallowing over and over trying to get used to the sensation. He stays there like that for a second, to the point where your head begins to swim a bit, the lack of air is intoxicating. When he pulls his hips back, just enough that you can desperately suck air in through your nose, he registers the depth that allows you to breathe.

“Count, precious. I’ll bottom out every five thrusts, ‘kay?” He instructs and you nod with a whine in acknowledgement. You try to hold your jaw in the same position, eagerly sucking on his cock as he thrusts, inhaling deep when he goes all the way. Each time he groans, grinding his pelvis against your face. You know he has stamina, and even though he doesn’t block your airway each time, your vision is spotting a bit, but not enough for you to stop him. The taste of his precum building makes your mouth water, a mix of your saliva and the salty fluid drips on the hardwood floor and your lap. The slick sound and the mess on your face and his cock brings him that much closer. San smirks at the prick of tears in the corner of your eyes, welling up from hit fat cock battering your throat.

“Mmh~ I’m going to cum down your throat, precious. Just like you want~” His airy chuckle turns to a groan, and he tosses his head back, struggling to keep his rhythm. His dick pulses hard on your tongue and you finally move yourself, hands going to his butt, holding him so he can’t pull back.

“Fuck-!” He grunts and cums, pumping thick globs of hot cum into your mouth and down your throat. You keep swallowing, only gagging a bit from the sticky substance, and he finally pulls out so you can catch your breath. More saliva and cum drips off your lips, your mouth open, panting. A drop lands on your chest, running down the skin and in between your breasts.

“Such a good girl, love~” San grins at your dazed expression, wide glossy eyes peering up at him.

“You safe?” You take a second to register his question, mind still foggy.

“Pill.” You manage to get out hoarsely, throat protesting for several reasons.

“Good, because I’m going to pump you full.” He smirks. You hold your hands up for him to help you stand, but he instead bends, wrapping his arms around your back and lifting you like a child under your arms. The ease to which he does so turns you on even more and you use your own core strength to lift your legs to wrap them around his middle.

He walks forward, pressing you into the wall by the door, cock fully hard again, rubbing over the damp spot of your shorts. Working with him to get your clothes off, you shorts are still dangling off of your ankle when his cock plunges into you. The sudden burn makes your cunt clench hard around him and he hisses, still a bit sensitive from his orgasm. You’re plenty wet, and he’d just fucked you only hours prior, but he’s so big. IT makes sense why he prepped you before, and it doesn’t help you’re still sore. But you couldn’t care less, the stinging pain just adds to your euphoria.

San groans when your nails dig into his back for leverage, scratching red welts into the skin.

“Ready?” He doesn’t wait for your response, thrusting up hard and shallow twice, then rolling his hips to slam into you full force. You throw your head back, hitting the wall a bit hard, but you’re too immersed in San and his animal pace. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and you hold onto his shoulders for dear life. He has your legs over his elbows again, getting as close to you as he can, piercing your core with sharp movements, dragging you hopelessly fast to orgasm. It’s hard to catch your breath and moan, let alone speak words, tears built in your eyes. When they roll over your cheeks, he leans in to lick the salt away. He hates seeing you cry from sorrow or from being upset, but watching tears of pleasure flow over your red cheeks go straight to his cock. So cute…

“You’re so freaking pretty, precious. Love my cock so much you just wanna cry?” His chuckle’s slightly patronizing.

“Just go dumb, baby girl, think of nothing but my dick in your tight little cunt.”

“San!” You gasp, your next climax starting. He slows his pace so you can ride the waves, but doesn’t want to overstimulate you yet, so he forces his pelvis against your swollen clit. With each rolling crest of pleasure, your cunt leaks, making another mess on the floor.

San pulls away from the wall, walking to a different part of the apartment and you protest vehemently when he slowly pulls his cock from your still spasming pussy. He sets your feet down, spinning your around and you immediately place your hands on the window to stay upright- Wait, window?! You gape, looking out toward the park you can see from the window.

“S-San-?”

“No one can see you up here, at least I don’t think…” He chuckles and doesn’t allow any more argument and fucks back into you.

“Fuck~!” You nearly scream. Somehow, he’s eve deeper than before, and the front of his hips slap against your ass with each pound. Your hot breath is fogging the window, even the heat from your palms does so. San’s fingers press so hard into your flesh; you know there will be bruises there for sure, maybe darker than the faint yellow ones on your inner thighs from the night before. Struggling a bit with the height difference, you’re forced onto your tip-toes, legs quivering as each stroke of his thick cock saps more and more of your strength.

“Huh- I’m close precious. Gonna fill you up, fuck you full~” He licks his lips like a hungry dog. You squeak when his strong grip weaves through your hair, wrapping your braid in his fist, tugging lightly as he grinds his cock as deep as possible, filling your womb with even more of his seed. It’s so hot; he’s so deep and even the sensation of him tugging on your hair feels so good. Your body ekes out another smaller orgasm, helping him ride his out. He’s still hard, albeit a little bit less so. You don’t know if your poor little cunt and body can take much more, but your mind doesn’t care. If he wants to rail you till you pass out, you would thank him when you came to. When San pulls his cock out again, more globs of cum leak out of your abused hole, which is still twitching. He smirks at your quivering body, not having moved much, and coos as he easily picks you up like a sack of potatoes, then transitions to a princess carry. Your head flops as you pant for air, waiting patiently as he carries you back to your room, shutting the door to prevent your pup from following. However, when he puts you on the bed, he doesn’t join right away, instead heading for your standing mirror. He moves it to rest facing the side of your bed and you hazily register the act. Letting him maneuver you, he sits with you on his lap, back facing him, proud cock arching against your cunt.

“Look there, precious.” His hand lightly grips your jaw, forcing your head to turn and see your reflection. You’re an absolute mess, but you’re too focused on his equally messy cock and the fact that it still isn’t back inside you.

“San, hurry, please!” You whimper and he chuckles at your insistence, lifting you and slowly pushing you down onto him again. His legs are spread so your knees rest over them were spread wide too, leaving a perfect view of your small pussy taking his girthy dick.

“Fucking gorgeous, (Y/N)~” He praises, kissing the side of your head, jaw still in his grasp to make sure you watch.

“I want you to remember this, how it looks when I fuck you, and that no one will ever be able to after me.” His words make you whimper, the small noise rising in pitch and volume as he starts to thrust up into you, also moving you with the arm around your middle. Like you’re being hypnotized, you watch San’s cock pull out halfway before sinking back into you, so much cum and slick dripping from where he sits inside you.

“You’re so hot like this.” San grunts, the hand on your stomach sliding down to circle your clit. It stings, you’re overstimulated, and you feel his dick pulsing; he’s close too.

“One more for me precious, one more~” He coaches, then one, two, he cums again. There’s no more room inside you, the thick white jizz spills over, mixing with the squirting slick and making yet again another mess on the floor. You’re both panting, reveling in the afterglow, and sleep is trying to consume you once again. Later, you’re mad at yourself for not choosing San sooner. He never should’ve been the second choice.

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

[withahappyrefrain]

⭐ 60 Fun Meet Cutes ⭐

1) A and B’s coffee orders are identical. Confusion (and promised calls) occur.

2) A always steals B’s parking spot and normally they wouldn't say anything but not today asshole!

3) A and B are seated next to each other at the singles table for a wedding.

4) B owns a bookshop and A really needs this book because their book club meeting is in two days.

5) A is a doctor/nurse treating B for an injury, but B won't stop flirting.

6) A pretends to be B’s significant other because they can tell that creep is bothering B.

7) They meet at the dog park and their dogs won't stop playing with one another.

8) They meet at the dog park and B’s dog won't stop following A’s!

9) They're both at a party and notice the other is sitting alone on the couch so we join.

10) They get volun-told to do a karaoke duet by their respective friend groups.

12) A and B’s families have been trying to set them up for years. They meet by accident.

13) A runs a stand at the local farmers market that B loves (the owner being cute and sweet is a major plus too).

14) They grab the same book at the library.

15) “You have the wrong number, but stay on!”

16) A and B have been set up on a blind date together. Neither one of them expect it to go well, given their mutual friend's track record.

17) A and B both want the last pack of cigarettes. It's not even for themselves, but they'll certainly argue about it.

18) "Hi, I'm pretty sure I saw you on a dating app and while I swiped right, you did not and wow you're beautiful in person."

19) A’s a tour guide for B, who is currently supervising a field trip of twenty seven-year olds.

20) A is B’s least favorite author but they don't realize until halfway through their rant.

21) "Hey, my friend is into your friend. But they're too scared to make a move, can you help me get them together?"

22) They're at the grocery store and A can't reach the item on the top shelf, so B helps them.

23) “Hey, so I helped your grandparent cross the street and they insisted that I meet you, their grandchild.”

24) It's their high school reunion and A is like eighty percent sure B was their lab partner, unfortunately B has no idea what they're talking about.

25) A’s friends insisted on going to a strip club for a bachelor/bachelorette party and A is really enjoying their time talking to B, the hostess.

26) An unexpected torrential downpour happens and they end up taking shelter at the same place.

27) “I'm your neighbor and I swear to God, if you don't turn that music down-"

28) They’re both PhD students and their dissertations contradict each other's and boy, are they going to have some intense eye contact about it.

29) B is A’s child's new teacher and their kid won't stop mentioning that their parent is single.

30 “I'm so sorry, but my friends won't stop bothering me until I get someone's number tonight, it doesn't have to be your real one, I'm just so tired of their shenanigans.”

31) A is the hot firefighter who visits B’s classroom to talk about safety.

32) A and B are paired up for a roller coaster and one of them needs to hold the other's hand to get through the ride.

33) “Look, your date may not want to dance with you, but I certainly will!”

34) They're both celebrities and their fans ship them so A and B do an interview together for their respective press tours.

35) They're both on the bus and A is reading the book B’s been wanting so badly and they gotta know if it's good or not because the waitlist at the library is ridiculous.

36) They're at an art museum and have wildly different interpretations of the same portrait.

37) It's been arranged by their families for A and B to marry as a peace treaty. When they meet for the first time, they bond over their families fighting

38) "Do you mind if I sit here? There are no other seats available."

39) A doesn’t know why their friend's girlfriend invited them to their coworker's nephew's bar mitzvah but they have a stain from the chocolate fountain and B is an angel with their Tide to go stick.

40) “If you don't fix your collar/tie/hat, I will do it myself!”

41) “The food in your grocery store cart looks so good, what are you making?"

42) A sees B at the Renaissance Fair and is determined to give B a rose.

43) They're both at the eye doctor and can't figure out which glasses to buy.

44) They end up sitting next to each other in a movie theater during a horror movie, and cling to each other for moral support

45) A owns a flower shop and B just needs the courage to go inside and say hello.

46) B’s dog somehow got out and A find it. Yes, it's late at night but from B’s voice over the phone, A knows they need to return this dog STAT.

47) A has always signed up to bring the dessert for their work's potluck. Who does B think they are taking their slot?

48) A’s friends signed them up for a dating app and set them up on a date with B without A’s knowledge.

49) B’s running an adoption event and A doesn’t even like animals but my God, is B so damn cute with them.

50) They're spies who have to pretend to be a couple for an assignment.

51) They’re professors who teach the same course but disagree over teaching methods.

52) A is B’s friend's asshole boss and B is just trying to drop off C’s lunch without strangling A.

53) A’s a witch who run a shop. B barges in, asking about the best curse to give someone (without killing them of course).

54) A is a hairdresser at a fancy salon and B shouldn't be spending $150 on a haircut but they need to talk to A.

55) A is a personal trainer and B is their client and A knows they need to keep it professional but it's really hard!

56) A is the photographer and B’s the caterer for the worst wedding ever.

57) It's the county Fair and A has lost their niece/nephew, so they ask B for help.

58) A is having a horrendous case of writer’s block, B works at the cafe A has been staying in for the past few days and is very concerned.

59) Hades and Persephone AU bc why not

60) A is a tattoo artist and it's B's first time getting a tattoo.

[vintagelasvegas]

Little White Chapel, 1301 Las Vegas Blvd - est. 1954

Photo c. '62. Unknown photographer, Roger-Viollet collection.

The chapel was built by Arvid and Neva Barnhart in 1954 and operated by Neva’s mother Lorene King in its early years. Charolette Richards bought the chapel from the Barnharts in ‘81, expanded in the 90s, and operated the chapel until selling to Vegas Weddings in 2022.

The original chapel built in 1954 still exists with several additions on the property in the Richards years: The flower shop next door was demolished in the late 80s and replaced in ‘91 with a small office building and the “Tunnel of Love” drive-through. In the mid 90s they acquired the neighboring property at 1299 LVBS and replaced it in ‘99 with a new chapel, flower shop, and office building.

Charolette Richards proved to be a master promoter. Her drive-through earned the chapel its fame. Other efforts included “A Little Chapel in the Sky” a hot-air balloon chapel, and weddings in a hospital, on a roller coaster, at the finish line of Las Vegas Motor Speedway, and in a helicopter (“Too noisy, not a bit romantic,” she said). She was dubbed “Wedding Queen of the West” by Las Vegas Woman magazine in ‘92. Richards owned the chapel until 2022, and died in 2023.

Photos of Little White Chapel

About the opening date.

The chapel has used the tagline “since ‘51” in recent years. Barnhart family states the chapel was built in 1954, a date supported by all of the earliest public records of the chapel. Whether the chapel was built from an existing house is unclear. Clark County’s Assessor record dates the chapel even later at ‘55.

Charolette Richards was ex-wife of Merle Richards who owned Little Church of the West until the 80s. Mr. and Mrs. Richards also opened Algiers’ Little Church. Mrs. Richards many interviews often blurred the details of her long history in the chapel business. Some of the reports have erroneously stated that Richards opened the chapel. In an interview with Vintage Las Vegas in 2021, she could not recall the date she bought the chapel. The Barnhart family stated the chapel was sold to Richards in ‘81.

Postcard c. 1954

c. 1950s

Kodachrome slide Jun. '62

10-inch record of Harvey and Loretta Davenport's wedding on 12/7/63. The record was mailed to the couple a month after the ceremony.

Postcard, '70s

Review-Journal, 3/30/84. Photo by Scott Henry.

Charolette Richards in her office in the Little White Wedding Chapel, 7/19/94. (Photo by Massimo Borchi/Atlantide Phototravel)

Little White's cameo in Anora (2024).

Sources: “Mary Helen Bogut, Married to Ernest Harsany Sunday.” Review Journal, 7/25/54; Clark County Assessor; interview with Hollis Thompson Barnhart and Gerri Barnhart Barker; D. Sorrentino. “Valentine’s Day very busy.” Review-Journal, 2/14/81; J. Allen. “You Bet Your Life: Vegas-Style.” Sun-Sentinel, 1/24/99; P. Arrillaga, Associated Press. “A Vegas Valentine: What’s love got to do with it?” Cape Cod Times, 2/14/2006; D. Phenix. “A whole lot of love.” 8News Now, 8/3/22.

Published 12/14/2017, Updated Mar. 3, 2025.

[your-unfriendlyghost]

I have two things to ask:

1.-Can we be friends?

2.-Do you have any Outsiders headcanons (or any that you haven't submitted yet)?

I mean sure?? Idk who you are since you’re on anon, so not REALLY, but I’m always down to talk!

2. Yeah lol- tons. Too many. Here’s a few (okay like 25 oops) off the top of my head lol, some serious/angsty and some lighthearted/kinda stupid without any real order. (Lotta ‘em are about Steve tbh -there’s so little to him in canon that I have the freedom to hc pretty much whatever I want)

Steve Randle’s nearsighted and has no idea, which is why he’s literally always squinting. (I’ve had that one for like months but only recently mentioned it on here lol.) Steve thinks his vision is completely normal

Dally and Sylvia genuinely cared for each other, but they were both so horrible at having healthy emotions that they just made each other worse. In a bad way, not a fun way.

When Steve gets kicked out, sometimes he hangs with Johnny in the lot. They don’t really talk about anything important like their shared experiences of having lousy parents. Instead they talk about cars, girls, music, school…lighthearted stuff. Sometimes Johnny will find Steve crying, which he never mentions- he’ll just sit down as per usual, which Steve appreciates. Steve almost never finds Johnny crying though. Johnny doesn’t cry much.

Okay tangent- I love how Steve and Johnny are low-key foils. Like Steve always seems tough but then cries when pushed to his limit, while Johnny always seems skittish until he’s under a bunch of pressure- in which case he suddenly is confident. (Not necessarily thriving obviously, but confident yk? Like grinning while saving those kids in the fire.) I know SE Hinton probably didn’t intend that at all, but it’s just such an interesting detail to me. One of these days I’ll put it into words better

Johnny’s jeans-jacket is a hand-me-down from either Steve or Two-Bit. (I can’t decide which lol) (obviously Dally would make sense too, but honestly I think it’d add more depth to flesh out Johnny’s relationships with the other members of the gang)

After the events of the book, Two-Bit starts hanging around the Curtis’s place even more. At first the gang assumes he’s trying to lighten the mood. It’s only after he gets sent to the cooler for a month due to drunk driving that they realize he was actually hanging around so much because he was trying to keep his kid sister from seeing him so drunk…

Two-Bit likes to joke that he keeps failing junior year so that him and his sister can graduate together. Which is a very bad idea since his sister is a year younger than Ponyboy.

Sodapop often feels like he’s only good for looking pretty and not all that useful or interesting otherwise. He likes himself, but when he stops to think about it too much, he starts to wonder if he really has anything going for him at all

My H/C for Steve’s home life is that his Mom is sick w/ like cancer or something. Before she got sick, Steve’s life was pretty alright for an eastsider- he and his dad fought, but they always made up for the most part. They weren’t perfect, but they loved each other. But after she got sick, she wasn’t there to mediate between Steve and his Dad anymore, and the fighting got worse and worse. And then Steve’s dad started drinking more and it was pretty downhill from there. Steve’s Dad still loves him, but sometimes Steve wishes that he didn’t. If he didn’t, then he could hate him. But his dad does love him, so he can’t get himself to.

Steve and Dally taught Johnny to drive when they were all like fourteen-fifteen-ish. Johnny is a very reckless driver. He loves speeding.

Johnny also loves fast roller coasters and stuff.

Dally doesn't ‘cuz he’s low-key scared of heights- he likes riding broncos and rodeos, but put him at the top of a roller coaster and he’s convinced that it’s gonna break and he’s gonna die. He pretends he doesn’t mind. The only people who know he’s scared of them are Johnny, and before she died, Mrs. Curtis.

Steve has a napoleon complex. Johnny, who is shorter than him by a few inches, likes to bully him for it sometimes

Ponyboy and Cherry don’t interact much in the school year after the book, but in the summer after, they start to hang out. Eventually they become pretty close. They fangirl over Paul Newman together

Ponyboy still doesn’t let Cherry read his theme though until years later

Marcia and Two-Bit re-meet a few months after the book. (Two-Bit is really scared that she’s embarrassed to be dating him, and Marcia is really scared that he’s embarrassed to be dating her. Neither of them are embarrassed. They both adore each other.)

Two-Bit likes to watch Marcia barrel racing. One time while he’s there, he runs into Ponyboy watching Cherry barrel race and immediately tells everyone much to Pony’s chagrin

Evie knows a little bit about cars, and she sometimes helps out at the DX during summers. Steve is so whipped for her lol (and Soda too Steve has two hands)

Evie and Sylvia are besties, but Steve and Sylvia hate each other. They act civil in front of Evie, but as soon as her back is turned they’re growling at each other like dogs. (Well Steve is. Sylvia just acts condescending as hell. Sometimes it goes over his head, so Steve knows she’s insulting him but isn’t sure what the insult is/means. Which makes Steve kinda want to kill her.)

Steve and Soda are low-key co-dependent. (Steve more so- Soda has his family at least, while to Steve, Soda and Evie are his whole world pretty much) It’s probably not super healthy, and both of them are vaguely aware of that, but are trying not to think about it too hard rn

Ponyboy’s friend group in high school consists of Curly Shepard, Mark Jennings, Scout Jenkins (from the tv show), and eventually, in her senior year, Cherry Valance. (There’s others too but those are the main ones.)

Pony dates Cathy Carlson for a while too, idk if they’re good for each other or not- I kinda like the idea of them being a sweet couple tbh, but no one else on here seems to care about them so I haven’t really explored the idea much lol

In a Dally lives au, Mark Jennings and Dally end up spending a bit of time together through Pony, and at some point they realize that they’re half-brothers lol. Mark is a deeply obnoxious little brother to have, and he drives Dally nuts on purpose. Weirdly I think Dally’s a relatively good influence on him, as much as someone like Dally can be. And Dally does care for Mark, though not as much as he cares for Johnny- Mark is, in his head, not exactly his responsibility.

Well I have (so many) more, but I think that’s enough for now lol. Point is, even though I haven’t drawn in a minute, I love these characters and their romanticized version of 1960s Tulsa so much and I think about them way too often lol

(dw once i get more into the swing of school I’ll be doin more art!)

[rebelliousstories]

Cheer

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Slight Angst, Mentions of Death

Word Count: 1,011

Main Masterlist: Here

Top Gun Masterlist: Here

Summary: It is his first Christmas alone. Not completely alone, but alone enough.

Consider Donating: Here

The Christmas he turned nineteen, Bradley was not looking forward to any festivities. His mom had just died only a few months earlier. His uncle Maverick pulled his papers for him to join the Navy. This was not Bradley’s year.

So when the holidays began to roll around, he was more than content to stay at home. The home that once felt so warm was now icy cold. Bradley had not even bothered to put up any decorations this year, even though that was always something his mother did.

Carol loved decorating for Christmas. Really any holiday was a good excuse in her book. As she got sicker and sicker, it was up to Bradley to put the decor up to her requests. Some years Pete helped him out, letting the Bradshaw woman order them around for the better part of a day. Alas, that was not the case this year.

This year, he sat with his framed picture of his family in the living room, next to the chair that his mother loved so much. A cold beer was on a coaster beside him, the table on the other side still has not been touched. He could not bear to bring himself to touch, or change anything from when his mom was there. It was the last lingering thread that he had to hopefully make it another year.

All of the sudden, there was a knock at his front door. But Bradley just sat there, waiting for whoever it was to go away. There was no way that he could answer the door in his state. Looking back to the picture in his hands, his finger gently traced over his mom’s face.

Another series of knocks. Sighing, Bradley was reluctant to get up. Who could possibly be at his door? He knew Mav would not be so stupid as to show up right now. So who was it? Setting down the frame on the table, Bradshaw finally made his way over to the knocking that had started up once more. As he looked through the peephole, he almost could not believe his eyes.

Opening the door, Bradley looked at the person on his front porch. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, I had extra Mac and cheese balls. Figured you might want them?”

The young woman on his stoop nervously held a tinfoil covered tray, presumably full of those delicious spheres of Mac and cheese that he loved so much. His childhood best friend was dressed in a beautiful sweater, covered in silver snowflakes that were woven into the fibers.

“It’s not a good time.” Bradley went to go close the door, but he was unable to shut it all the way. Her boot had stopped his movements just in time.

“Come on, BB. No one should be alone on Christmas. Or Christmas adjacent.” With a deep sigh, and just a small eye roll, Bradley allowed her inside. She made her way into the kitchen in a practiced routine that he had done hundreds of times before.

“Not that I don’t appreciate you coming over, but exactly what are you doing here? I’m not really in the mood to entertain,” came Bradley’s lament, following after her in just a couple of steps.

“And that’s fine, B. But I told you, it’s not right to be alone at this time of year. It’s not much, but you look like you could use a homemade meal of some sort.”

She set the oven up to reheat her food tray, before finally turning to the man of the house. Her arms opened, making Bradley hesitate for a bit. However, he gave in eventually and accepted the hug being offered. Neither realized just how tense he was when he went into that hug, but the decompression was comical. His shoulders dropped several inches as his lungs expelled all of their air.

“Let me put the food in the oven, and then we can go throw in a dvd in the den? Yeah?” Nodding into her hair, the man let her go without enthusiasm.

In just a few minutes, the pair was sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace. She had gone out to get some wood from her truck, sparking a roaring fire to help keep them cozy. A delicious smell of Mac and cheese drifted through the home. There was a movie on the tv, but they were not paying attention.

Instead, Bradley kept her close to his chest as they half-sat, half laid down on the comfortable furniture. No words were spoken, but they both enjoyed the other’s company. Once there was food to be had, Bradshaw’s mood improved just a bit. Stuffing himself full of the delectable orbs of Mac and cheese goodness, he rested his cheek on her head.

“Better,” came her ask.

“Yeah. Thank you,” he replied, pressing a brief kiss to her hair.

“I know it won’t be the same, but you don’t have to be alone, Bradley.” She never shifted from her spot, but the words reverberated through his chest.

“Thank you, pretty girl. I guess I just thought that you would want to spend time with your own family.” He admitted, hugging her close once again.

“Don’t you know, silly boy,” she twisted around, “you have been a part of that family since day one?”

“I think I forgot, to be honest.”

“It’s okay. You’re allowed to grieve how you feel you need to.” Snuggling back into his chest, both of them were now fully lying down on the sofa. Their movie was almost over, but they were not getting up anytime soon.

“Will you- will you stay the night please? I don’t think that I wanna be alone anymore.” Bradley whispered to the woman in his arms.

“Of course. Like I’m gonna let you be a Grinch today.”

This was just how they were going to spend the rest of the evening; all cozy, snacking on fried Mac and cheese balls of goodness, and binge watching Christmas movies, until they inevitably passed out.

[papidiaz]

Part 12: Interviews and Articles Featuring Buck/Oliver, Eddie/Ryan, and Tim Minear (Note: In case new interviews/articles are dropped during the next days I'll just update this post.)

25/03/27 9-1-1′s Ryan Guzman Gets Real About Eddie’s New Life in Texas, Weighs In on All That Talk of #Buddie Back Home

25/03/27 ‘9-1-1’ showrunner Tim Minear unpacks Eddie’s reunion with son Christopher — and what’s next for their relationship

25/03/27 ‘9-1-1’: Kenneth Choi Talks Chimney’s Support of Maddie, Couple’s ‘Roller Coaster Ride’ to Come

25/03/28 ‘9-1-1’s Ryan Guzman Breaks Down Season 8, Episode 12: Eddie And Christopher’s Reunion, El Paso, And The Diaz Parents

I don’t want to give away too much, but I know that Eddie misses the 118 and he would love to go back. He’s not going to sacrifice his relationship with his son ever. So without his blessing, there’s nothing happening that’s going to bring him back — outside of a crazy event.

25/03/28 9-1-1's Ryan Guzman and Gavin McHugh on Eddie and Christopher's Reunion: 'It's a Sense of Relief for Both of Us'

25/03/28 Ryan Guzman Talks Eddie’s Evolution, Fatherhood Struggles, and What’s Ahead on 9-1-1

[madametamma]

The Day Jon was born (A MAWS fanfic)

“I’m so sorry, but your son likely only has a few more hours to live.”

The news made Clark’s whole world lose sound, light, and color. He was frozen to the spot. His body reacting as if he didn’t move time wouldn’t go forward.

He and Lois were so thrilled over having a baby. Clark wasn’t sure he could due to his alien DNA, until one day in the middle of stopping a bank robbery he heard a noise he had never imagined before.

Two hearts beating inside Lois as she hid behind a turned over desk to cover herself from the armed robber’s gunfire. She furiously scribbled notes into a pad of paper for the story she’d write about this. The shock at the time got Superman shot over 58 times until the robbers themselves grew confused at his motionlessness.

He suddenly snapped out of his stupor, finished rounding the robbers up as quick as a flash and carried his perplexed wife out the door up to the privacy of the sky to give her body a proper X ray vision scan, confirming that she was indeed pregnant.

They were overjoyed at the time. So happy to bring a child into the world. They imagined teaching him or her catch, bringing them to Ma and Pa’s home for holidays. They wanted every part that parenthood had to offer together.

A few weeks later the fears started taking hold. Lois was on an emotional roller coaster. With some days feeling full of energy and eager to fight against her husbands insistence that she be less reckless with claims that no one could stop her from doing what she had to do as a reporter and other days where she cried in bed feeling certain she was going to be a horrible mother.

Through every breakdown Clark was there to assure her that everything would be fine although she wasn’t the only prone to anxiety and emotional episodes. He would also have more than his fair share of nightmares of something happening to the baby. A foe discovering of his family’s existence and taking them hostage? A strange Kryptonian sickness that he would have no idea how to cure? What if their child had powers like him? What if they had to live with the isolation and loneliness he grew up with as a boy. He would never wish that on anyone let alone his own kid.

Thankfully Lois and Clark never had a breakdown at the same time. They were each other’s rock. When one was in crisis mode, the other swooped in to let them know they believed everything would be alright.

That is until last night. 25 days before her due date, as Clark was brushing his teeth getting ready for bed, he heard the sound of a crash in the kitchen where Lois was. Near instantaneously he was at her side as she lay fallen on the floor breathing ragged, holding her baby bump.

“Something’s wrong.” She managed to hiss out through clenched teeth.

Clark flew her to the local hospital as fast as he was able, The doctors declared that if they had any chance at saving the baby, they’d need to perform surgery immediately.

As Lois was going under, quickly loosing consciousness, she gave Clark the most painful, terrified expression Clark had ever seen from her, it almost stopped his heart. It didn’t look right on the face of the bravest person he’d ever known, and it made him feel almost as small and helpless as she looked.

“C-Clark, y-you’ve gotta make sure our baby’s gonna be okay. You’ve gotta bring em to me, promise?”

“I promise.” The words came out before Clark even knew what he was promising. He would have given her anything in that moment.

She muttered a few words incoherently as her eye glazed over and succumbed to the anesthesia.

The rest was a blur for Clark. Never in his life had he felt so powerless and afraid. The only thing he clung to was the sound of the two heartbeats of his wife and baby until finally a doctor delivered him those awful words.

“I’m so sorry, but your son likely only has a few more hours to live.”

Clark somehow found himself sitting in the hospital room with his sleeping wife and tiny new born son. He was hunched over, head in his hands, not sure how long he’d been there or how he got there.

He finally managed to look over at his new born son, so small, pale and struggling to breath. Clark looked at him more closely with his super vision. There was something unstable about human, kryptonian DNA mixed together. The baby’s heart was weak and struggled with all its might to keep on beating. Turns out Clark was right all those years. He couldn’t have a healthy baby with a human.

He turned his gaze to Lois. How was he going to face her? The promise he made in the heat of a heartbroken moment shattered.

The light from the rising sun in the distance illuminated her face from the window. Usually Clark’s favorite sight in the world. The sunrise lighting up his wife’s beautiful, peaceful face as she slept so close by him but at this moment…

That’s when realization struck him. He looked back at his son. He had his kryptonian DNA. And Kryptonians heal when exposed to strong sunlight.

Without wasting another moment, Clark unhooked his child from the machines keeping him alive. If he was wrong about this, their boy would die but if he did nothing, he’d die anyway in a few more hours. He cradled his child in his two hands. He was small enough that he could fit nearly all of him in them.

“Lois, I’m going to try something drastic.” He muttered to his unconscious wife before flying off.

He held his baby firm against his chest and just went strait up above the clouds where he could be close to the sun. It was almost blindingly bright but Clark kept his eyes on the boy as he held him out enough that his skin could absorb as much light as possible.

And he waited…

And waited…

No immediate change. Were seconds or minutes going by? Clark couldn’t tell. His whole universe held still.

“Jonathan?” Clark mouthed out, saying the name he and Lois had agreed upon if they had a boy.

“Jonathan.” He said again a little louder this time.

“Do you know who I am? Do you recognize my voice?” So many nights Clark curled up next to Lois’s baby bump speaking to it about anything and everything, hoping that his child would know him by the sound of his voice once he was born.

“Cry Jonathan… Please cry.” He begged. Clark had been crying nearly this whole time and a new fresh set of fat tears rolled down his face.

“If you cry now, I’ll never feel bad about you crying for the rest of our lives. I will stay up all night, every night with you if you want to cry in your cradle, When you’re older I’ll sit with you if you cry over a nightmare, or if you cry about getting dumped or bullied at school. Just cry for me, Jon.”

No change.

“There’s so many great things in this world, Jon. You’re going to have an aunt Kara who will teach you stuff and an uncle Jimmy who will make you laugh and a grandpa and grandma who will make you feel loved and special, and you’re mom and dad will always be there for whatever you need, but you’ve got to live, okay?”

Still nothing.

Clark sniffled back more tears, his voice was choked up with emotion.

Suddenly, it was as though the whole world put back into its rightful place all at once it hit him. Jon let out a loud baby wail and wiggled slightly in his father’s hands. His skin was bright and rosy and Clark could hear a heartbeat strong and steady.

For a moment all Clark could do was stare at the child illuminated by the rising sun. Almost unable to process the miracle before him. When more tears fell and finally he could smile. He brought his son close and cooed,

“Daddy’s here… Thank you Jonathan.”

Lois was beginning to come around. She looked around and found her room empty. She couldn’t help but be worried that Clark wasn’t with her and neither was their baby, when suddenly a shadow cast over her. She looked to the window to find her husband smiling down at her eyes puffy from crying with their child in his arms.

Wanting to close the distance between them, without taking her eyes off her family, Lois moved to get out of bed to reach out for them only to almost immediately fall on unsteady legs.

Clark moved to catch her with one arm and move her back to bed. Once she was okay, he handed her their crying baby. “Lois, meet Jonathan. He’s beautiful.”

And now it was Lois’s turn to cry as she held her tiny son close to her chest, thankful that her family was okay. She didn’t need to ask. She could read it on Clark’s face. She held their baby and Clark held the both of them.

The doctors were astounded. They had never examined a healthier baby.

[rushthehollow]

25 days of coasters / 25. Pantheon, Busch Gardens Williamsburg # of rides: 2 / last ridden: summer 2023

i really love funky intamin launches, so i was not surprised when i also liked this one! the layout is very goofy, even if short and i had a lot of fun! i don't think it's the best of the best, but it certainly is very good and does fantastic wonders for BGW's already solid lineup.

i do think the presentation of this ride is incredibly lackluster, especially given the rest of the parks rides, but that doesn't change my opinion of it much. they have a good theme going on and i wish they did more with the queue and overall setting, but oh well. overall very silly, very fun. love it

[beenbaanbuun]

ateez as coasters from my favourite theme park

for those of you who don’t know, i am a coaster enthusiast and this specific theme park is my favourite place on planet earth hehehe

park seonghwa - th13teen

this image is actually both th13teen and rita! they’re the only two coasters in the park that kind of interact in this way and i think that’s very cute and very matz!!

th13teen is initially quite tame but there’s a secret twist (a drop track!!) that adds a little spice in there which reminds me of seonghwa’s duality on and off stage

the theming is also kind of culty which i feel is very hwa!

kim hongjoong - rita

this image is once again rita over the th13teen queue line and again, the way that the two coasters interact is so matz, it was meant to be

the thing about rita is the ride itself is very short (about 25 seconds) but it’s a launch coaster which means it accelerates very fast (i got whiplash the first time i rode it) which is SO. HONGJOONG.

its also red and i love hongjoong with red hair! please sir… give me what i want (red hair)

jeong yunho - oblivion

this majestic coaster is oblivion! a vertical drop coaster that drops the rider 180 feet into the ground! it’s the tallest coaster in the park so take from that what you will…

it’s also the first vertical drop coaster to ever be created! it’s become such an iconic coaster for the park and played a huge part it making the park what it is today. yunho joining hongjoong all those years ago reminds me of this coaster; it sparked the beginning of an era

kang yeosang - galactica

this beautiful delight of a coaster is galactica, a flying coaster that may not always get shown the appreciation it deserves. despite that, she is such a wonderful addition to the park and it really wouldn’t be the same without her

she may not be as outwardly intense as the other coasters but she is fun and riding her always makes me smile just like yeosang does!!!

she’s probably one of the most beautiful coasters at the park in my humble opinion!

choi san - the wickerman

this, my friends, is the wickerman! a wooden coaster which may seem unassuming but is actually one of the best and most intense coasters at the park!!!

she’s made entirely of wood, including the huge wickerman structure that you pass through multiple times. she seems very sturdy in a natural way, just how san feels to me; reliable and sturdy and very natural

it smells like a bonfire and it’s such a comforting smell to me to the point where i but candles specifically for the reason that they smell like this coaster. i feel like san is also a very comforting presence; big and cuddly and i know he smells good

song mingi - nemesis reborn

EMO COASTER FOR MY FAVOURITE EMO BOY!!!!! the colour palette is so mingi, the aggression of this coaster is so mingi (on stage… he’s a big softy off stage), everything about her is so mingi

she’s such an iconic coaster and so hugely loved by the public. on the day she reopened after her year long hiatus there was a 6 hour wait to ride her! she deserves it too! she’s so beautiful

she’s also made specifically for this space in this theme park just like i believe that mingi well and truly belongs in ateez. the area was quarried out and the coaster was planned to fit to the specific space. it’s unique, just like mingi!!

jung wooyoung - spinball whizzer

this is spinball whizzer and it’s a spinning coaster that’s marketed as a children’s ride but it will aggressively break every bone in your body before calmly chucking you off at the station…

it’s another one that makes me smile and giggle when i’m on it and it’s so energetic and there’s always so much going on and i just think that that’s wooyoung

it feels very much like an old friend and the park wouldn’t feel the same without it. it brings so much to the park and i adore it

choi jongho - the smiler

this is the smiler and it is the most rollercoaster rollercoaster to ever rollercoaster which i feel like is a very jongho thing...

it has the most inversions of any coaster in the world, it’s fast, it has so much airtime. essentially everything you want in a coaster, the smiler has… just like jongho seems to be good at everything he ever does!!!

it’s one of the most creative coasters in the world in my opinion and everything it does it does with its whole head and soul. it’s popular and it deserves to be!!!

[putschki1969]

2025/03/31 Blog post by Wakana 3月最後の日！〜月末はリマインドのお約束〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Last Day of March! ~A Regular Reminder at the End of the Month~

Everyone~＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／Today is March 31st!! It's the end of the month…💦Feels like this month went by so quickly…🙄It's getting warmer these days, and I went to see the cherry blossoms in my neighborhood yesterday, they were in full bloom! 🌸🌸 Spring is definitely on its way…The weather in Tokyo has been strange lately! 😭 (Probably strange nationwide too) It was around 25℃ but today it's only about 8℃…😱The difference is huge~😭A few days ago, I turned on the air conditioner and then just a few days later, I had to turn on the heater again…Feels like a roller coaster, so please take care of your health☺️✨

Now here we have my usual "end of the month reminder for podcast submissions! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／The talk theme for my upcoming podcast on April 10th: "Tell me your favourite Wakana song!"♡

The day the new episode is uploaded, I'm holding my concert so that's why I picked this topic ♪ Please share some thoughts about your favourite songs, what you like about them, why you like them, etc! ＼(^o^)／Of course, I'm also looking forward to any questions you'd like to ask me😆 ♪ Submit your messages here ♡↓↓↓ https://wakana-fc.jp/answers/botanical_oshaberi_20/new

Here are some photos from our rehearsal the other day 😊From left to right: Manipulator Yugo Maeda 🌸 Bassist Kenta Hamasaki 🌸 Music director/keyboardist Satoshi Takebe 🌸 Guitarist Koji Ueda 🌸 Drummer Tomoo Tsuruta 🌸

Everyone is in a peaceful mood ( ´ ▽ ` ) I recorded some of the rehearsal so I've got a few screenshots for you (^^) (The last one is a photo of my face when I pressed the button believing I would start filming but I accidentally made a photo. Looking very laid-back here)

There are only 10 days left until "Wakana Spring Live 2025 ~Little Dance~"! ! ＼(^o^)／Please wait a little while longer~! ! ! ･:*+.(( °ω° ))/.:+ As always, our infamous Sushi Zanmai pose, Rehearsal Zanmai!!! Ahh, now I want to eat sushi🤤🍣🍣🍣🍣 Grilled fatty tuna, grilled flounder edge, yellowtail sashimi, ankimo, and of course some tuna plus radish for a great start and finishe! 🍣Wahh🤤🤤♡

Last but not least! I'm flying! I'm flying! I flew!!

Everyone, have a nice day~~(^o^) Well then, until next time~☆( '▽')/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

2025/03/27 Instagram post by Wakana

There's only a few more days left this month🌿 It's still March, but it's so incredibly hot in Tokyo that I'm surprised…😇 I wonder what's going on with the weather…It seems like the cold is coming back, so please take care of yourself🧚 I hope the weather will be spring-like and comfortable by the time of my live next month🌸Here's a group photo from last week's rehearsal📸Everyone looks like they're having a blast in the first picture😂😂 (Source)

『Wakana Spring Live 2025 ～Little Dance～』 Merchandise

We finally have some merchandise for the upcoming live. However, there's no official announcement yet!! Guess there will be one tomorrow. Will update this post with additional info as soon as I know more. I was surprised it took them so long to reveal the merch. Usually they have a merch line-up announcement about two weeks in advance. Now it's only one more week until the concert and there's only one item currently listed in the shop. Maybe this is a mistake and it isn't meant to show up yet. Hopefully they will have more items available tomorrow. There's an official announcement now! Thankfully, the line-up has more variety although it's weird that we don't have a pamphlet. It was the same last year, they probably only want to do one pamphlet per year so we'll get one in December for her annual winter concert.

Pre-order period: April 3 ~ April 8 Scheduled shipping: Late April ▼Space Craft Online Shop▼

🛒ORDER HERE🛒

2025/04/03 Instagram post by Wakana

There's only one week left until "Wakana Spring Live 2025 ~Little Dance~" 🥳🎉Starting today, I'll be introducing the live goods ☺️ First up is a T-shirt 👕The live logo is printed all over the front! It's a soft, spring-like ivory with a slight yellowish hue ♡ I'm wearing a size L in the photo. It's soft and very comfortable to wear ✨Why not get one to accompany you this spring!

The day the photo was taken, it was so cold that my breath turned white, and it was raining 😂I wonder if spring will really come… 😇 Any time now 〜spring〜 🌸(Source)

[chelseaknoo]

25 days with Eminem

Eminem x reader

Day 12

The family was bundled up to their noses, the snow crunching beneath their boots as they approached the sleigh. Two reindeer stood at the front, their harnesses jingling with bells and looking a little less majestic than the pictures on the brochure. One of them let out a loud snort, startling Stevie.

“Are we sure this is safe?” Stevie asked, eyeing the reindeer like it might eat her.

“It’s super safe,” the attendant assured, a little too cheerfully. “These reindeer are trained professionals.”

Marshall snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure they’ve got diplomas hanging in the barn.”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting Jackie in his snowsuit. He looked like a tiny red puffball, barely able to move his arms. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Look at Jackie—he’s ready for his first sleigh ride!”

Jackie let out a little squeal, flailing his mitten-covered hands.

“See?” you said, grinning. “He’s already loving it.”

“Yeah, because he doesn’t realize those things are in charge of pulling us,” Marshall muttered, nodding toward the reindeer.

“Dad, stop being a baby,” Hailie said, dragging him toward the sleigh. “If Jackie can handle it, so can you.”

“Technically, Jackie doesn’t have a choice,” Stevie pointed out.

Marshall groaned but climbed into the sleigh after you and the kids. The seat was a little tight, and the girls squished in next to you while Marshall sat up front next to the driver.

“This thing feels like it’s held together with duct tape,” he muttered, testing the wooden bench.

“Stop complaining,” you said, swatting his arm. “It’s going to be magical.”

The driver clicked his tongue, and the reindeer started trotting forward. The sleigh lurched, and Marshall grabbed the edge of his seat.

“Magical, huh?” he said, glaring over his shoulder. “Feels more like a roller coaster with no track.”

“Dad, seriously,” Alaina said, laughing. “You’re acting like we’re going to die.”

“Because we might!” Marshall shot back, gripping the side even tighter as the sleigh picked up speed.

As the sleigh glided through the snowy path, Jackie was thrilled, giggling and pointing at the jingling bells. The girls cooed over him, taking turns trying to make him laugh harder.

Meanwhile, Marshall’s attention was squarely on the reindeer. “Is it just me, or does that one look pissed off?” he asked, pointing to the lead reindeer, whose ears were pinned back.

“He’s fine,” you said, leaning back and enjoying the view of snow-covered trees. “You’re reading too much into it.”

“I’m just saying,” Marshall muttered. “If he decides to bolt, we’re all screwed.”

The driver overheard and chuckled. “Don’t worry, these guys are as steady as they come.”

Just then, one of the reindeer let out a loud sneeze, shaking its head violently. The sleigh jolted slightly, and Marshall whipped his head around. “What the hell was that?”

“Relax, Dad!” Hailie said, laughing. “You’re acting like the reindeer are plotting against us.”

“They are plotting,” Marshall said seriously. “Look at them. They’ve got shifty eyes.”

You burst out laughing. “Oh my God, stop! They’re just reindeer!”

Jackie giggled, clearly enjoying the ride, oblivious to his dad’s dramatics. Marshall sighed, slumping slightly in his seat. “Fine. But if something goes wrong, remember, I called it.”

The sleigh continued down the snowy trail, weaving through trees and glittering snowbanks. Jackie was babbling happily in your lap, his tiny mittens flapping as he pointed at the snowflakes. You were enchanted by the scenery, but Marshall’s suspicious glares at the reindeer were stealing the spotlight.

“Look at him,” Marshall said, leaning toward the driver. “That one on the left is plotting something. I can feel it.”

The driver laughed, shaking his head. “They’re just reindeer, man. Chill out.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Stevie said, nudging him. “What’s the worst they’re gonna do? Fly away with the sleigh?”

“Exactly!” Marshall said, pointing at her like she’d just validated his entire argument. “They’ve got those vibes. Like, ‘Oh, I’m just pulling this sleigh now, but wait until we’re on a cliff or something.’”

You leaned over to whisper to Hailie, “Why is he like this?”

Hailie shrugged, smirking. “Honestly, I think he just likes making everything dramatic.”

Just when it seemed like the ride was finally settling into a peaceful rhythm, one of the reindeer let out a loud sneeze, jerking its head sideways and startling the other one. The sleigh wobbled for a moment, and everyone grabbed onto the edges.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Marshall shouted, holding onto the seat with both hands. “What did I say? They’re mutinying!”

The driver pulled on the reins, calming the reindeer, but Marshall wasn’t convinced. He turned to you, his expression half-serious, half-horrified. “This is how it starts. First, they sneeze. Next, they stampede.”

“Oh, relax,” you said, laughing. “They’re fine now. Aren’t they, Jackie?”

Jackie responded by blowing a raspberry, which somehow made Marshall glare harder at the reindeer.

“You see that?” he said, pointing to Jackie. “Even he knows they’re shady.”

“Dad, he’s a baby,” Alaina said, shaking her head. “He thinks everything is shady.”

As the sleigh ride continued, the path curved toward a small hill, and the driver encouraged the reindeer to pick up speed. The sleigh started gliding faster, and the kids started cheering.

“This is awesome!” Hailie yelled.

“Define awesome,” Marshall grumbled, holding on for dear life.

“Dad, come on, loosen up!” Stevie laughed, throwing her hands in the air like she was on a rollercoaster.

“I’m not loosening anything,” Marshall muttered. “If this thing tips, y’all are on your own.”

As if on cue, the sleigh hit a bump, causing everyone to bounce in their seats. Marshall yelped, Jackie squealed in delight, and you burst out laughing.

“That’s it!” Marshall said, flailing slightly. “Driver, can I get off? I’ll walk the rest of the way!”

“You’re not walking, Marshall!” you said through your laughter. “Just enjoy it!”

“Enjoy it?!” he snapped, glaring back at you. “Do I look like I’m enjoying this?”

As the sleigh began to slow down, the reindeer decided to throw in one last surprise. The one on the right suddenly veered slightly to the side, pulling the sleigh toward a snowbank.

“Here it comes!” Marshall shouted. “This is the mutiny I warned you about!”

The sleigh didn’t tip, but it did jerk to a halt, sending a small avalanche of snow flying over the edge and right onto Marshall’s lap.

The kids erupted into laughter as Marshall sat there, covered in snow, looking like he’d just survived a natural disaster.

“Y’all think this is funny?” he said, brushing snow off his coat. “I almost died!”

“Dad, it was snow,” Alaina said, doubling over with laughter. “You didn’t die. You just got frosted!”

Even Jackie was giggling, clapping his mittened hands.

“Oh, you think this is hilarious, huh?” Marshall said, glaring at the baby. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Post-Sleigh Chaos

By the time you all got off the sleigh, Marshall was grumbling under his breath, while the rest of you were still laughing.

“Let’s take a family picture!” you suggested, pulling out your phone.

“Nope,” Marshall said, holding up a hand. “Not until someone explains why I’m the one that got snowed on while the rest of y’all stayed dry.”

“Because the universe knows you’re the dramatic one,” Stevie teased.

“Whatever,” Marshall said, crossing his arms. But when you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Come on,” you said, snapping the photo. “It’s Christmas. Lighten up.”

Marshall sighed, wrapping an arm around you and holding Jackie in the other. “Fine. But next time, I’m driving.”

“Driving what? A reindeer?” Hailie asked, making everyone burst out laughing again.

[amongusmpreg]

Why are you so cheesy pilled

ok, well honestly this is something i’ve been meaning to get off my chest.

1. Meeting your soulmate

2. Going to your friend's weddings

3. Stargazing

4. Food

5. Going to every country

6. Nice smelling candles

7. Music

8. Concerts

9. The people that love you.

10. Snowball fights

11. Going to the beach

12. Sunsets

13. Sunrises

14. Hiking in Forests

15. Dogs and Cats and Pets

16. New movies

17. Old movies

18. Going to the drive in theatre

19. Walking through local markets

20. Your favorite artists next song

21. Drawing

22. Sculpting your own pots

23. Birthdays

24. Inside jokes with your friends

25. That special persons laugh

26. Warm houses on cold days

27. Bonfires with smores

28. Reconnecting with old friends

29. Smelling flowers

30. Soft plushies

31. The smell of fresh baked cookies

32. Kareoke

33. Sleepovers

34. Your favorite videogame

35. Learning a new language

36. Long walks on the beach

37. Seeing every ocean

38. Squishy bunnies

39. Going to the store to smell perfumes

40. Long hot showers

41. Tea/ coffee

42. Seeing rainbows

43. Helping wounded animals

44. Bath bombs

45. Cleaning the Earth

46. Getting married

47. Going to see brodway shows

48. The sound of rain

49. Long car rides

50. Going on a train

51. Memes

52. Going to the zoo

53. Looking at funny art

54. The smell of old books

55. Butterflies

56. Collecting shells

57. Color

58. Sending letters

59. Surprise parties

60. Warm sheets

61. Reading

62. Swimming in the pool at night

63. Going to diners with friends

64. Early morning runs

65. Looking at old photos

66. Going to a museum

67. Soft sweaters

68. Glitter

69. Going to the aquarium

70. Hugs

71. Making snow angels

72. Holidays

73. Home cooked meals

74. Roller coasters

75. Decorating for parties

76. Playing pranks on friends

77. Dancing

78. Singing in the shower

79. Seeing your favorite animal in person

80. Meeting your hero

81. Bubble wrap

82. Ice water on hot days

83. Poetry

84. Trying on funny clothes

85. Hanging out with friends

86. City skylines

87. Wearing your favorite color

88. Beautiful wildlife

89. Collecting stickers

90. Making some ones day

91. Laughing so hard you can't breath

92. Warm blankets fresh from the dryer

93. Sewing

94. Seeing the future

95. Late night convos

96. Rewatching your favorite show

97. Blowing Bubblegum

98. Boardgames

99. Sitting out in the rain

100. Bubbles

101. Cooking new thing

102. Bob Ross tutorials

103. Picnics

104. Tire swings

105. Old architecture

106. Reading books

107. Growing your own food

108. Clear skies

109. Baking things you love

110. Finding new hobbies

Wowwwww, you meow like a cat! That means you are one, right? Shut the fuck up. If you really want to be put on a leash and treated like a domestic animal then that’s called a fetish, not “quirky” or “cute”. What part of you seriously thinks that any part of acting like a feline establishes a reputation of appreciation? Is it your lack of any defining aspect of personality that urges you to resort to shitty representations of cats to create an illusion of meaning in your worthless life? Wearing “cat ears” in the shape of headbands further notes the complete absence of human attribution to your false sense of personality, such as intelligence or charisma in any form or shape. Where do you think this mindset’s gonna lead you? You think you’re funny, random, quirky even? What makes you think that acting like a fucking cat will make a goddamn hyena laugh? I, personally, feel extremely sympathetic towards you as your only escape from the worthless thing you call your existence is to pretend to be an animal. But it’s not a worthy choice to assert this horrifying fact as a dominant trait, mainly because personality traits require an initial personality to lay their foundation on. You’re not worthy of anybody’s time, so go fuck off, “cat-girl”.