#i feel better now in terms of sickness but what if i go out and start feeling bad :

[leandra-kinard]

I'm in no way invalidating this post, as I assume it's US-centric. But it's a stark reminder how vastly different the work cultures are there and in Germany where I live and work.

Yes, you don't have to tell your boss everything, and in some instances it's a good idea to say less, but if you have any kind of long-term illness or condition, it actually is a good idea to talk about it with your boss (and HR + the work's council, if you have one). Good employers in Germany will then do their best to accommodate for your needs so they can keep you and make things work out for you. They tend to have a more long-term mindset where they want to help the employee get better or find better ways to be a happy (and yes, with that productive) employee.

That's not always the case either; especially internationally operating corporations here are a bit more cut-throat, so it's a good thing to know the company's mindset well, but it's a tendency.

Also, there are actual laws that prohibit them from firing you for something like that. There are limits, for example if you're actually sick (off work) for too long repeatedly with no prospect of improvement that can be a just cause for termination, but the employer has the duty of proof in that instance. If they cannot prove that your absences are too detrimental to the company's well-being for them to tolerate it, you can sue for reinstatement or damages.

At my current company, I've been immensely lucky, because even for German standards the mentality there is extraordinarily understanding and supportive. When I told my boss that I was burned out and had to take a week or two off (on fully paid sick leave, mind you), he said "Two weeks might not be enough. Take as long as you need." So I took four.

I was in the process of switching departments, so I had a conversation with my next boss too and asked if I could work from home completely for a while. He seemed very understanding, and I then told him the whole story - because he also needed to have some kind of prospect and know how long it was gonna take etc - so I said I was in the process of being diagnosed for ADHD and that I just couldn't manage also having to go into the office.

Now that I have the diagnosis and will soon hopefully get my meds, there's that prospect, and we said for now, I was gonna come in one day a week (usually 2 is mandatory) for a while until I feel ready to be there two days again.

That was only possible because I explained what was going on with me; the transparency also gave the employer a positive outlook and a feeling of trust, and when your company's mentality is built on those kinds of values, it makes for a million times more pleasant AND productive working environment. I mean, just by how this all was handled I do feel very loyal to my company now. (I'd be stupid to leave, frankly, lol).

And from many other cases I know how they reacted too. A colleague had to stay at home because she had pregnancy complications - no problem. Another one sometimes has to leave early or work from home because she has frequent and heavy migraines. Sometimes people have to do the same because of something to do with their kids. Everyone is usually fully transparent about it and it really helps create an atmosphere of openness and trust.

TL;DR: Err on the side of caution, yes. But do inform yourself of your legal rights in your country, and the mechanisms in such situations. Suss out the company's approaches to various issues and know their policies. Sometimes, when the outside conditions are in your favor, being transparent about your situation can be the better choice.

Hey here is your friendly reminder to not tell your nice boss stuff.

I’m at the executive management level for my very small company and I have 4 people who report directly to me. I am a nice boss. I’m friendly with my employees, I treat them like professional adults, I actively try to create a positive work environment, and I mentor them and make sure they’re advancing in their careers. I do my best to shield them from the rest of management doing stupid shit. My employees like working for me.

The other day one of my employees came to ask if she could change her hours on Mondays. I said yes immediately because it’s helpful for me to know when she’s here and when she’s not, but as long as she gets her work done I don’t care when and where she does it. She then proceeded to tell me that it was so she could attend therapy and like … I will never use this information but … as a general rule don’t fucking do that.

Do not tell your employer shit about your mental or physical health except for the bare minimum needed to request a reasonable accommodation. Even your nice boss can fire you, even your nice boss can unfairly change your working conditions, and even your nice boss at some point is probably going to face pressure from their superiors.

I’m not saying don’t trust your boss with anything ever. I’m just saying that anytime you are in the workplace you need to keep your private information private. You can still have a good relationship with your boss. Your workplace can still be pleasant. But if it ever feels like disclosing private information is required in order to have a good relationship with your boss, please see that as a red flag.

[growth-opportunities]

Big sister is so sick of little sister showing off her massive tits

"No, no, no, no, no...."

June watched in horror as her little sister's bust swelled before her eyes. They had always been large, Leah having grown early and quickly, but never like this. The buttons on the front of Leah's shirt held on for as long as they could until they finally gave out under the pressure, clattering across the room. Leah's hands trembled as she slowly brought them up to her chest, feeling out her new, bra-breaking size. A deep moan bursts from her throat, only growing louder the deeper her fingers sink in to the soft, warm flesh.

June shook her head, refusing to believe the sight in front of her. "H-how?? It wasn't... I was supposed to... It's not fair!" Undermining her position as the older sister, June stamped her foot in frustration, her meager B cups jiggling as the impact rippled upward. Even if June couldn't figure it out, Leah was much quicker on the uptake.

"You found it, didn't you? Grandma's spellbook?"

June's mouth clamped shut, her eyes going wide. Embarrassment burned hot along the sides of her neck. Her voice grew quiet, meek. "...I don't know what..." She swallowed, realizing that denial was pointless. "How did you know?"

A smile that June doesn't like at all forms on her little sister's lips. "Because I found it first! Years ago. Back when I first started growing. You were the golden child. So smart, so tall, so pretty. I knew that, no matter what I did, I'd never measure up. When I found that spellbook, I knew that I had a chance to make things right. So I stole all of your future growth. Every cup size you would have grown beyond your measly Bs went to me instead! And, let me guess, you tried to make your boobs even bigger with a spell, didn't you? I didn't even realize that my spell was still active, but that explains why all of it went to me, instead! That's for the boost little sis! I must be more than halfway through the alphabet now!"

Tears beaded at the corners of June's eyes. She had been so hopeful when she found the spell, eager to reclaim the growth that had been denied her and now she not only made her sister bigger, but had to come to terms that she might never be able to get what she wanted. And Leah had no interest in making things better, sauntering towards her older sister, her breasts bouncing with every step. "Aw, don't cry, Junie! If you're really nice, I might let you play with them every now and then! And I promise not to steal too many of your boyfriends. Just try not to be too mad when they stare. I mean, you can't really blame them, can you? And, besides! In a way, they're staring at your tits, too!"

[sarah-bear706318]

Paring: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x fem!Reader

Warnings: implied smut, Hangman being himself, love sick Rooster

A/N: Just a little something I thought of awhile ago for Rooster🩷

If there was one thing about Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw was that he loved you more then he loved flying.

Rooster and you had just got engaged and the two of you could not be happier, that was until he got his orders to return to top gun. Bradley having to return for a mission did put a damper in the wedding plans but thats what you signed up when you said yes to marry a Naval fighter pilot right?

"How would you feel if I came with you" you ask while eating dinner one night

"You mean to San Diego" he looks up from his plate asking

"Yeah why not as long as I have wifi and my laptop i can work from anywhere"

"Baby that would be amazing" he said with a big smile grabbing your hand

"It's settled then after dinner I'll look for flights"

"Why not drive out have a little impromptu road trip, we'll take the bronco" Rooster says

"Even better" you reply

After dinner you begin packing and making preparations for your trip seeing how you only have a few days to get things in order.

3 days later the Bronco is packed, Playlist is made and you and Bradley are on the road heading west to San Diego!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

After a great yet tiring trip you make it! You were able to find housing right off a base that offered short term stays. You pull up to the little house and start to unload your things.

"What do say we go to hard decks for a drink tonight baby" Bradley says wrapping his arms around you "wanna see who else was called for this mission"

"Sounds great hopefully Nat did I miss her" you tell him "let me shower the rest of the road trip off" you say walking down the hall before pausing taking your shirt off you turn to Rooster "you gonna join me fly boy or..." before you could finish your sentence Rooster is already down the all throwing you over his shoulder "have I ever turned you down"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

An hour later you and Bradley are pulling into the parking lot of hard deck. He jumps out and jogs over to open your door and help you out and you both walk in.

"Baby I'm gonna go bathroom then I'll get us a few beers" you tell him "ok baby heres my card" he replied with a kiss and handing you his card

"Bradshaw, is that you? Is this how I find out your state side" Rooster hears Phoenix say while she's playing pool

"Yeah well thought I'd surprise you" He says with a cocky smirk. She then takes her shot and hits him right in the stomach with the pool stick "guess I surprised you back, it's good to see you"

"Its good to see you too" he says then gives her a hug

"How's that girlfriend of yours" Phoenix ask

"Well she's not my girlfriend anymore, She's my fiancé and she's great she's in the bathroom right now, she'll be so happy to see you" he tells her

"No shit you popped the question congratulations"

"Thank you..."

Before Rooster could say anything else another voice from his past comes to his ears

"Bradshaw, as I live and breathe"

"Hangman, you look...good" Rooster says

"Well I am good Rooster I'm very good, in fact I am to good to be true" the cocky pilot says taking a shot at the pool table eyes never leaving Roosters

Rooster just rolls his eyes at the cockiness of his fellow pilot, as the group starts talking about the mission they will all soon be on.

Meanwhile you walk out of the bathroom and over to the bar and wait your turn to order. You look over your shoulder and see your fiancé and he sends you a wink.

It still amazes you that after all this time he still gives you the same butterflies as he did the night you met.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

As Rooster is still talking to his friends he see y/n at the bar and sends her a wink, little did he know Hangman also saw y/n at the bar and wanted to prove how good he was. The problem was he didn't know who she was but he was about to find out...

"Well look what just walked in" Hangman says and everyone looks over to the bar

"Yeah thats..." Phoenix starts to say but is stopped by Rooster

"Damn that girl is fine" "look at that ass" Rooster hears Cody and Fanboy say. Rooster just smiles to himself. Nobody had ever met Y/n or even knew about her but Phoenix

"And Rooster I'm about to show you just how good I am. If you'll excuse me I'm bout to go by a beautiful lady a drink and get a number" Hangman says walking away towards the bar

"Aren't you gonna stop him" Phoenix ask

"Nope he'll find out real fast that my girl can take care of herself" Rooster says with a smirk.

Back at the bar you are still waiting for the bartender when you hear a voice beside you

"Well what brings a gorgeous woman like you in a navy bar" you turn and look and see it's one of the pilots Bradley was just talking to.

You shoot Rooster a look and he just winks and that let's you know you can have some fun.

"What can I say I love a man in uniform" you say in a flirty voice. "So you gotta name mr navy"

"Jake but my callsigns Hangman"

"So a pilot even better" just then the bartender makes it your way

"What can I get you ma'am" he says

"2 coronas with lime please" you go to give him the card Bradley gave you when a hand stops you "I'll take care of it" jake says handing the man his card.

"Well thank you flyboy" you say

Hangman continues to flirt and throw his best pick up lines your way, you are trying hard not to laugh. The bartender comes back with your beers and you pick them up but not before Jake throws his arm around you.

"So what about you give me your number" he says "we can go out one night what do you"

Neither you or Jake saw but that was it for Rooster it was funny but he isn't gonna let any guy touch his girl

"You know..." you start to say as you try to move his arm when you hear Roosters voice behind you

"Hangman"

"Can we help you Rooster" Hangman says again in a cocky voice with a smirk

"Yes you can get your arm off my fiancé" He says with a cocky smile while Jake's smile falls from his face

"No way Rooster this girl is to hot for you" jake says laughing til he finally looks and sees the ring and the dog tags around your neck how did he not see any of that before he thinks to himself then pulls his arm off you.

"Yeah but thanks for the beer man, come on baby Nat is dying to see you" Rooster says grabbing your hand and tipping his beer bottle to Jake

"It was nice meeting you" you say hopping down off the bar stoll with a wave leaving Jake standing there speechless.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Nat I'm happy to see you I missed you" you say hugging Phoenix

"I missed you too I can't believe you didn't tell me you got engaged to this man"

"Its been less then a month I haven't told many people yet plus I never know how to get ahold of you"

"Baby let me introduce you to everyone this is Coyote, Payback, Fanboy, Bob," just as Rooster is introducing you to everyone Jake walks over "and you met Hangman" he says with a laugh

"Nice to meet you all and Hangman thanks for beers" you laugh and everyone joins in

"That was a mean joke" Hangman says

"Sorry how bout next round on Bradley and me" you say as a peace offering

"Deal" he says

A few minutes later you are getting another round for everyone when you hear the sound of a piano. You don't even have to turn round to know who's playing it

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain

Too much love drives a man insane

You broke my will, but what a thrill

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire

I laughed at love 'cause I thought it was funny

You came along and you moved me honey

I've changed my mind, this love is fine

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire"

You walk over and sit on Roosters lap while he sings.

Kiss me, baby, you kiss his cheek

Ohhh the feels good

Hold me, baby

Well, I'll still love you like a lover should

You're fine, so kind

Got to tell this world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You get home that night a little tipsy and very touchy

"So wanna have some fun Lieutenant Bradshaw" you say stripping your clothes off

" I love when you call me Lieutenant" Bradley says running his hands down your hips to your ass

"Well Lieutenant have your way with me"

" On one condition...you leave the dog tags on" he says kissing down your neck

"Yes sir"

[risingsunresistance]

got censored on twitter "freedom of speech" website for saying cis, happy pride month to all the cissies

[phagodyke]

venting sorry... don't want to just delete it bc it helps to get it out just ignore this post pls 👍

haven't slept much at all and feeling so sick andstressed and in pain bc my period is due and so tired its making me dizzy but i cant sleep more or ill just feel more sick and I want a hug and to cry so hard into someones shoulder but no one cares or will even come near me it makes me feel diseased they think things about me that aren't true bc I struggle so much to communicate and thry all make assumptions insteqd and no one wants to give me space to talk to them about it so I cant undo that now and its all my fault and I'm so. exhausted :-(

[1roentgen]

.

[burnthybread]

>tried to be ultimate good friend by never talking to ky friends abt my issues because they were too extreme

>now have no one who cares

[peaktora]

𝐂 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘 ˚◞♡ ⃗ satoru gojo

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ your husband is unbearably clingy.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊0.9k words. no pronouns used or specified gender for the reader. intended lowercase. established relationship (#married).

a/n. — i’m warning u guys right now that this is not proofread 😭 .. i literally just typed this up rq and posted it bc it’s been too long since i’ve last posted something on here

p.s. the prompt was in my notes from a longgg time ago, but i believe it’s from @/creativepromptsforwriting .. if not please lmk !!

"c'mere, hold my hand," satoru pleads for what has to be the third time. he pouts at you, who’s sitting on the countertop.

your brows furrow as you look up from your phone, "but, you're washing the dishes?”

he twists the faucet handle, and a steady stream of water flows down. after a brief glance at you, he places the plate beneath the water and says, "i know how to multitask, baby."

clinginess is defined as “the tendency to stay near someone for emotional support, protection, ect.” but there has to be another term for what satoru is, because you can't give any of those things while holding his hand right now.

you let out a deep breath and turn off your phone, watching as the screen fades to black. "satoru, there's no way i'm sticking my hand in that dirty dishwater," you say, sliding your phone into your pocket.

he practically shoves the plate into the drying rack. "i can't believe this," he huffs. "we literally had vows."

“what are y—“

“we had vows that said you’d love me in sickness and in health.”

"well…are you sick?" you ask, crossing your arms across your chest.

he pauses his task of washing dishes, leaving them untouched. leaning over the sink, he rests his arms against its edge. he steals a furtive glance at you, only to find your gaze locked onto him. with a hint of hesitation, he softly mumbles, "no..." before you can respond, he interrupts, "but i’m in health, and the vows said that you have to love and cherish me in this state too."

you lean back, searching your mind for what the alternative of holding his hand would be. because in no world would you hold his hand in dishwasher. then, it hits you. "for now, would a hug make you feel better?"

he answers your question with a hum, and you can't believe he's debating whether or not to accept your offer after all that drama over holding hands in dishwater. even so, he adds, "i'll have to give it some thought."

two can play that game.

“it’s okay,” you say, gracefully hopping down from the counter. a smirk spreads across your face. “i could just go—sit on the couch?” slowly, you start to walk in his direction and make your way over to the living room.

he doesn’t say anything, letting you do as you please. it’s not until you start to pass by him, that you get the reaction you wanted.

or atleast, somewhat similar to what you wanted.

"on second thought—" he exclaims, and the dishwater swirls around him as he turns around, his hands still wet and dripping.

you cringe as small puddles gather on the tiles. "hey—" but he interrupts you as he reaches out to grab your wrist. “ew—I—what the hell?”

you instinctively try to pull back, but he slips his wet hand in yours; sealing your fate.

“satoru—”

“what happened to nicknames?”

“satoru.”

"’m not sure who that is. i go by a lot of names, but not that one. lets go down the list, yeah?” he clears his throat. “i go by "babe, baby, swe—"

"you should consider adding "gojo" to that list."

"now, when have you ever called me gojo?”

"right now, in exactly ten seconds.” your husband gasps, hanging his mouth open. “satoru go—"

“woah woah woah—what’d i do to deserve this treatment?”

“you put your dirty dishwater hand in mine.” you jerk your hand back, struggling to escape free of his grip.

his grip tightens on your hand, “if you’re feeling like not loving me today then just say that.”

“hey—don’t discredit me. i offered you a hug and you said you had to “think” about it.”

“cause holding your hand ‘s better.”

you sigh, “after you’re done with the dishes, you can hold my hand as long as you want.“

he lets out a soft, thoughtful hum—the same hum that got you both into this situation in the first place. at the same time you shake your head, a mischievous twinkle appears in his eyes, and a smile twists onto the edges of his lips. "deal" he says, shaking your hand. “but before-“

you tsk, making him drop his excuse.

“wh—“

"the quicker these dishes get done, the quicker you’ll be able to hold my hand. so get on with it—go," you playfully command, and his grip loosens in response. seizing the opportunity, you slide your hand out of his grasp. you look down at it, seeing bits of food that’ve stuck to your palm. gross.

you walk over to the sink, feeling the cool water flow over your hand, washing away the food and dirt that clung to your skin. as you stand there, you hear satoru's voice grumbling from behind, "i hate doing dishes,” and you can’t help but snort.

before you know it, you feel his presence close behind you, his body pressing against yours. his arms encircle you, creating a cozy pocket of space between the counter and his body. satoru leans over your shoulder, gets a sponge from the soapy water, and starts washing a bowl. you simply lean back and look at his features.

the sight almost makes you want to stay in his arms forever. that is, until you realize the predicament you're in.

“you did not,” you whine. you desperately try to break free from the cage he’s trapped you in, but your attempts prove more and more pointless.

"oh, yes, i did," he declares with a smile. “what did you say earlier?" he clears his throat before proceeding. "the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you'll be able to hold my hand," he says, mockingly imitating your tone. "so, the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you can leave and do anything you want."

you sulk and moan while you reluctantly grab a dish and a spare sponge from the sink. “i hate you.”

“i love you more.”

[gothgoblinbabe]

Nothing Worth Saying Aloud

Logan Howlett x fem reader

A/N: This one is short n' sweet! Inspired by the song "Need 2" by Pinegrove which I had first heard because I read this one shot that used that song as inspiration! Theirs is much better I'll be real but I had this festering in my brain for too long every time I'd play that song on repeat

Summary: Misunderstanding and miscommunication makes for a terrible combination that leaves you feeling like you've had your heart ripped from your chest

Warnings: Angsty as all hell, a lil' bit of fluff at the end, that's really it!

Word Count: 2K

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་

You’d gone through a couple break ups in your life, a handful of failed situation-ships that ended awkwardly - even a long term relationship or two - but all the heartbreak you’d experienced couldn’t compare to the chest-crushing agony you experienced now.

The terrible moment of facing the music; accepting what couldn’t be, even if you wanted it more than anything.

Logan was not into you and he was never going to be.

You had to confront that when you’d gone down the stairs of the mansion one night to get a glass of water, almost certain you were the only person awake. That was until you’d stopped short in the hallway, seeing Logan and Jean standing with their backs to you. You couldn’t hear their conversation and didn’t think anything of it until you watched his arm snake around her shoulders, pulling her into him for a hug.

Your stomach sank. You really should have known.

The way he talks to her, looks at her, is always there to help her; it must have been obvious to anyone but you. You’d been friends for so long that you were almost dumbfounded that you never realized, probably too blinded by your own rose colored glasses.

You turned on your heel immediately, climbing the stairs to hide in your bedroom. Your chest felt heavy and your skin felt like it was on fire. You never ended up sleeping that night, too sick to think of anything else but Jean and Logan.

That was maybe two weeks ago now and you’d avoided Logan every day since as best you could. You’d gone from being nearly inseparable to speaking only when you had to. He’d try his best to get you to talk to him about anything at all but you only gave him one word answers. He even tried to keep you after training one day, gently having a hold on your bicep.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” He asked bluntly. He tried to look you in the eyes but they were nearly glued to the metal floor of the basement corridor, your hair falling in your face.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, Logan, really,” you were able to mutter out, somehow keeping your voice from cracking. Before he could interrogate you further, you shrugged yourself out of his soft grip and speed-walked to the elevator, tears flowing the second you turned away from him.

You were not fine. Your eyes were always red and puffy from crying yourself to sleep and everyone could tell something was off. 

Ororo even stopped you in the hallway outside your bedroom one night, begging you to tell her what was wrong and what she could do to help.

“It’s nothing, I - “ you had started to dismiss her, but she was having none of it. 

“Stop with that! Enough! You need to tell me what’s up or I’m gonna have to force it out of you somehow and you know I do not wanna do that. Now tell me.”

You sighed, never picking your gaze up from the floor. 

“Come here, I don’t want anyone to hear me,” you beckoned her into your room.

She sat by your side at the edge of the bed as you confessed what you had seen and how badly it had torn you apart, rubbing your back gently when you choked out a sob.

“Honey,” she cooed, pushing some hair from your face and wiping a tear away, “I think you need to talk to him. This is gonna eat you up inside if you don’t and I think maybe it could’ve been a misunderstanding.”

“I don’t know, ‘ro. I can’t even look at him without feeling like I’m gonna burst into tears,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes with the collar of your t-shirt.

“Think about it. I can’t tell you what to do, but I think you really should. And if it was what it looked like, sweetheart, this is not the end of the world,” she reminded you.

“It sure does feel like it,” you joked, tears still rolling down your cheeks.

“I know,” she sighed, patting your back gently, “talk to him.”

You nodded and she left the room, reminding you to come find her if you needed anything at all.

You thought her words over and ultimately still hid in your room the next day, skipping training to rot in bed in sweatpants and a tank top. The thought of having to confess to Logan that you were really in love with him was far too paralyzing. It almost made you sick If you thought about it too long.

You knew it wasn’t a good idea to keep shuffling sad songs on repeat and yet you did, keeping your CD player at a low volume so you wouldn’t bother anyone and they wouldn’t bother you. Your hair was a mess and you were glad that at the very least, you’d had enough energy to shower that morning after three days of not doing so. You held your knees to your chest while laying on your side, burying your face into your pillow to muffle your wailing sobs. 

Logan was downstairs at the same time, making his way towards the stairs, only to run into Scott.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Logan spoke, stopping him with a hand on his upper arm.

Even through Scott’s glasses, Logan could tell he was glaring suspiciously.

“About what? Why?”

Logan said your name, looking around to be sure they were alone in the hallway.

Scott’s expression softened and he leaned against the wall, waiting for him to explain.

“Do you know what’s up with her? She won’t talk to me, she hasn’t in two weeks. She won’t even look at me. Has she said anything to you?” Logan spewed out, rubbing the back of his neck as a nervous tic. 

“No, your girlfriend didn’t mention anything,” he teased, shaking his head, “but hey, just talk to her. You’ve been close for a while now, you just have to confront her.”

“She’s not my - okay, whatever. Yeah, I’m gonna go talk to her. Maybe she’s in her room,” Logan sighed.

“She’s always in her room lately. If there’s anyone that can pull her out of it, it would be you.”

He quickly thanked Scott and finally reached the stairs. He had been walking through the hall, finding your bedroom door and stopping when he heard a noise he couldn’t quite make out. He heard you sniffle and his heart dropped.

You were crying.

He tried to give you your space, work through whatever it was that was bothering you, but it broke him to see you the way you were and his prodding didn’t seem to help. Still, he didn’t know how much longer he could let you dodge him in the halls or live with the fact that you wouldn’t even look at him anymore. He had planned to talk to you that day, but you rarely came out of your room now.

So, he laid a hand on your doorknob, turning it slowly. He would’ve knocked - he always did - but every time he had recently, you laid silent and pretended not to be in the room. He always knew you were, recognizing the smell of your perfume behind the door. 

The door cracked open a few inches and he saw you, curled in a ball in your bed with your face in your pillow. Your shoulders moved up and down as you sobbed, gripping the pillow so hard that your knuckles turned white.

There’s no way Logan could leave you like this. He slid into the room and closed the door gently, but you could hear the click of the knob over your music.

Your head shot up and you saw Logan standing with his back to your door, an almost devastated look on his face.

“Oh god, Logan, please, don’t - “ you choked out, turning your face so he couldn’t see you and waving him away. Out of everyone you wanted to see right now, he was at the bottom of the list because this was humiliating. 

He’d seen your bloodshot eyes and pink nose, your cheeks wet with tears. There was no way you could tell him you weren’t crying.

“You have to talk to me. Please, what did I do?”

The last thing you wanted was for him to think it was all his fault. It wasn’t, really. He didn’t do anything to hurt you on purpose; He couldn’t have known it would upset you in the slightest or that you were even in the hallway that night. 

“Nothing, Logan, please, just go away - “ you begged, still facing away with your face buried in your hands.

“I’m not leaving till you tell me what’s going on,” he said firmly, “you won’t even look at me. I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry. Whatever it is, I’ll make it up to you.”

You still had your face buried in your hands when you felt the bed dip as he came to sit beside you.

“I miss you, you know. You won’t train with me anymore, you won’t come out with me, you won't talk to me. Please, I don’t know what to apologize for if you don’t tell me.”

His voice so close to you made your heart ache. You wanted to just hug him, tell him you missed him too, but you sat paralyzed. He really wasn’t going anywhere until you said something.

You removed your hands from your face, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. You took a long inhale, closing your eyes and trying not to let your voice crack.

“It’s nothing worth me saying aloud,” you muttered, gnawing on your bottom lip. You felt like you needed to, though - like a lump in your throat that you couldn’t cough up. 

“Please,” Logan’s voice was quiet, his hand arm coming to rest around your waist.

You squeezed your eyes shut and scrunched your face in an attempt not to cry even harder when he touched you. You had wanted him to for so long, but not like this. 

You inhaled sharply, standing up as you did so to pace around your room. You couldn’t sit still with his hand on you.

“I - “, you tried to speak, the words getting lodged in your throat, “ it’s not your fault. I’m not mad at you, it’s not that.”

“Then, what? Tell me. You know I’d do anything to help.”

He would, and that’s what made it all hurt so much worse; how sweet he could be to you. You reminded yourself that he was also probably like that with Jean and you shook your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the thought. 

“It’s so stupid, Logan, really - “

“Pretty girl, it’s not stupid if it’s making you cry.”

Pretty girl. He probably called her that too.

Fuck, you couldn’t get it out of your head no matter how bad you wished you could.

“Ugh,” you groaned, leaning your head back to stare at the ceiling. Maybe it would be easier to spit it out when you weren’t looking at him. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to get it all out in one go.

“A couple weeks ago, I went downstairs in the middle of the night and I saw you and Jean.”

You couldn’t see his expression, but Logan’s eyebrows were furrowed, completely lost on what exactly it was that you saw.

“And it’s so fucking stupid, I know, but I - “, you choked back a sob, “fuck. Logan, I love you. I’m sorry. I’m in love with you, I don’t know how to handle it, not when I know nothings ever gonna happen.”

When you didn’t hear a response, you dreaded the moment you finally tore your eyes from your ceiling. Logan was still in the same spot at the edge of the bed, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

“Sweet heart - “, he began, but it only hurt you more to hear him call you stuff like that.

“Logan, please, I know, just - I don’t want it to be a big deal and you don’t have to give me the rejection speech, trust me.”

“Are you gonna let me explain?” His tone was mildly frustrated, though he was still clearly worried about you.

You sighed, hands on your hips as you stood almost completely across the room. He got up to meet you where you were. He wanted to put his hands on your shoulders but he could tell you didn’t want to be touched.

“Explain what?” You muttered, gaze glued to the floor when he stood in front of you.

“There’s nothing going on between Jean and I.”

Seeing that your expression never changed, he continued.

“I think I know what you saw. I hugged Jean, that’s what you’re talking about, right?”

You swallowed hard, dreading any details he wanted to spill. You still didn’t believe that there was nothing, convinced he was lying to save your feelings. You nodded anyway, still looking at the floor.

“I gave Jean a hug because her and Scott got into a fight. She said she fucked up and wanted my advice, I hugged her and that was all. Honey, I’m telling you, nothings going on.”

You were nearly turning pink at the realization that he was being truthful. 

“And another thing,” he began again, tentatively pulling your hands from your hips so he could hold them in his, “you think I don’t love you?”

You finally met his gaze then and his heart broke when he saw your watery eyes. He brought a hand up to wipe your tears, leaving it there to cup your face while his other still held your hand. 

“I love you. I’m in love with you, too. I don’t feel that way about Jean at all. I thought it was obvious, but I guess neither of us have the greatest communication skills, huh?” He laughed a little, nervously waiting for you to finally say something.

You were still soaking in his words, first about Jean and then about you. 

“Really?” You squeaked, unable to say anything more.

“Really, baby,” he said sweetly, continuing to wipe away your tears.

You sniffled and leaned into his touch, happy to just be near him again.

“I missed you too, you know. I miss everything about you. I just couldn’t look at you when I thought - I don’t know, when I thought you couldn’t love me like that. Oh god, I’m so stupid, Logan, I’m so sorry - “ you began to apologize and he cut you off, shaking his head.

“None of that, c’mere,” he pulled you into him gently, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to hug you. 

You smiled into his t-shirt. You missed the smell of his cologne, the warmth of him, the way he called you sweet names. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, standing on your toes to do so.

“I love you, Princess. I’m so glad I get to say it,” he mumbled into your hair, neither one of you letting go of the other, “and I’m a dumbass for not saying something sooner and letting you think all that.”

“No, I’m a dumbass because I should’ve said something sooner instead of assuming. I was just terrified, I guess.”

“No more being terrified, right?” He pulled away a little to look in your eyes.

You nodded, a smile on your face for the first time in weeks. You both stood there in the middle of your bedroom, frozen in an embrace with your eyes locked on each other.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his hand rubbing up and down your back reassuringly, “you can say no if it’s too soon -“

You leaned up to press your lips to his, not wanting to waste any more time than you already have. He kind of grunted in surprise, relaxing into your touch when you ran your fingers through his hair at the back of his head. It was better than you could have ever imagined. His lips were so soft and he was so gentle with how he held you that your knees could’ve buckled. He pulled away reluctantly after a few seconds, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“I didn’t wanna ruin anything,” he explained, tucking your hair behind your ear, “you know, just being with you. I would’ve swallowed it all down to be just your friend if it meant I wouldn't lose you.”

You brought both of your hands to cup his face, scratching lightly at his mutton chops, “Really?”

He nodded, kissing your forehead, your cheek and your lips again. It was sickeningly sweet, making you giggle into the kiss.

“What’s so funny?” 

“Nothin’. Just really happy.”

“Me too, pretty girl. Hey, you owe me a couple of movie nights, by the way.”

“Race you to the TV?”

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་

A/N: ik this ones pretty short but it was rotting in my google docs so here u go <3 pls like and reblog if you enjoyed!

[lemonlover1110]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘!

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Toji doesn't want another baby, and there's nothing you can do about it, so you come to terms with it.

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji doesn’t get baby fever. Out of the two of you, you’re the only one that squeals around a cute baby. Toji already knows parenthood, and he’s changed way too many diapers and done way too many late night feedings to know that he never wants to do them again.

Babies are cute, but at this point in life, he’d rather just be an uncle. He gets to hold and play with the baby, but gets to give them back when an accident happens. Unclehood is much better than parenthood, dare he say. He gets to do all the fun stuff and none of the bad stuff.

He doesn’t really want to do it all again, and there’s nothing that you can do to change his mind.

“Toji!” You yell from Megumi’s bedroom, and the man walks to the bedroom, annoyed. The man loves you to death, but he hears his name way too many times in this home.

He sighs, leaning against the doorframe as you open up a box. He makes his annoyance clear as he asks, “What?”

“I’m cleaning out Megumi’s closet, and look what I found.” You hold up the cutest onesie, one that fit six month old baby Megumi, something that feels like eons ago. Toji raises his brows, a smile coming to his lips.

“What? Are you thinking of having one?” Toji asks, and he’s surprised when you shake your head. It’s the first time you shake your head to that question. “Then what’s this?”

“Shouldn’t we donate it? Since we’re not having a baby, we don’t need these.” You tell him, and Toji can’t help but agree. There’s no way Megumi is going to fit into one of these onesies, even if he truly tried. 

“Let me help you.” He says, sitting down on the floor with you. You look at him, perking up your brows.

“What came over you? Suddenly being so helpful.” You chuckle, and Toji rolls his eyes as he grabs a onesie from the box. Why does it feel so small? He didn’t recall them being so small. “Who are you and what did you do with my husband?”

“Whatever happened to you wanting a baby? Who are you and what did you do with my wife?” Toji responds, wondering why now of all time you aren’t blabbering about how a baby would be a perfect addition to the house. These clothes are just so small and so adorable…

“I mean, we agreed to not have kids when we got married since you were done with that. It’s just unfair of me to ask for a baby when I know you don’t want more… So I accepted it.” You smile at him, feeling proud of yourself for this newfound maturity. Toji’s glad you’ve come to terms with it, because he was sure getting sick of it. 

He reaches into the box again, pulling out a pair of socks. He purses his lips together before looking at you. He didn’t remember babies having such small feet. “I’m glad that you–”

“I mean what’s even cool about babies? They’re cute, and nothing else. Then you have to…” You continue talking about the cons of babies, while Toji pulls out more and more clothes from the box. It seems to be getting smaller and smaller. His heart gets weaker with each item and he fights back the wicked thoughts. He can’t possibly be having… baby fever.

“Babies aren’t that great. Never have I looked at Megumi and thought ‘Oh I wish you were a stinky baby again.’ ” Toji says, but he pauses when he realizes that he’s had that thought before, way too many times. You chuckle before you quietly continue your task. Toji chews on the inside of his cheek, when he realizes something that he wishes he could push out of his mind.

He doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up, but you said you were done with asking. The umpteenth time is the charm or whatever they say. Toji hopes that by saying, “Oh, Megumi was just the chubbiest and sleepiest baby.” You’ll come to your senses. You have to go back to your duty of being the wife that annoys her husband for a baby, and this time around he’ll finally agree.

“Yeah, they’re sleepy until it’s three in the morning, then they’ll wake up.” You argue, not noticing what Toji is trying to do.

“He had the cutest sneezes.” Toji brings up.

“Yeah, means they’re sick because they put their hands on everything and then shove them in their mouths.”

“He was so cute when he laughed…”

“Have you heard how they cry? That easily outweighs that.” You don’t even notice how he’s putting the clothes back into the box. You keep taking out the same clothes, wondering why he had so many of the same set.

“For fuck’s sake! I want a baby.” Toji finally confesses, ashamed that he’s the one that has to bring it up. Your eyes widen, a smile coming to your lips before you practically jump on him to kiss him.

You kiss him over and over again, and Toji doesn’t want to fight you on it right now, but he has to put his hand over your lips when he senses the kiss leading to something else. He tells you, “Not in Megumi’s bedroom.”

“Right.” You laugh out of embarrassment, getting up from the floor and giving him a hand to do the same. 

He’s never seen you use so much force before as you drag him out of the bedroom. But it’s nice to see that you hadn’t really changed your mind, after all, that makes his job easier.

[ahsokaismyqueen]

Death Wish Love Pairing - Tyler Owens x Reader Summary - You wake up in a hospital with no recollection of how you got there, only that you are now in pain. Thankfully, the presence of your boyfriend makes it a little better. Word Count - 1.1k Warnings - Language, but that's it! This is very fluffy and really just me dipping my toe in to see if I want to do more. <3

The first thing that you noticed when you woke up was the pain. It was dulled, no doubt by some intense medication, but it was there. Your head was pounding, your arm was aching and your knee might’ve been attempting to murder you if a limb could do so. What was worse than all that however, was the incessant beeping that told you where you had to be. 

The hospital. 

You hated the hospital. You were one of those people that would go weeks being sick and ignoring every symptom to avoid seeing  a doctor, something that drove Tyler crazy even though he knew you had a good reason for it. In fact, he never would have taken you here if he had a choice because he knew you wouldn’t want it. You tried to recall what that reason might be, but the last few hours of your mind drew up a blank. 

Realizing that no matter how long you kept your eyes closed, the reality was you were still in a hospital, you finally opened your eyes, looking up at the white spotted ceiling. It took a couple of blinks for your vision to come back into focus, but when it did, you took a look around the room, your eyes settling on the person sitting in the chair beside you. 

It was almost funny, seeing such a big man in such a small chair. While he was asleep, he didn’t look comfortable. His head was leaning against his own shoulder at an odd angle, his baseball cap clutched in his hands on his chest, and his legs spread as far as they could. He must have been miserable, sleeping like that. 

But he was here. 

It was a little bit selfish, you’d admit that. You had no idea how long he’d been asleep. It could have been minutes or hours, but either way, now that you were awake, you wanted some company. Your eyes landed on a cup that was laying at your bedside and a straw beside it. While it took you a couple of grabs to get it in your hands, your aim was remarkably good as you threw it at Tyler, the straw smacking him right in the face. 

He startled awake, and his gaze went straight to you. A relieved smile formed on his face, not even angry that you had just assaulted him with a straw. “Well, it looks like someone’s feeling better.”

“I don’t know if that’s the right term. Heavily drugged is more accurate.” You admitted, looking over at him once more and noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the state of his very creased flannel. “You look like shit.” You said. 

Tyler shook his head at you, but that smile you loved faded from his lips. He moved his chair closer to you, his knees bumping into the side of your bed, and you closed your eyes for a moment as he leaned forward and brushed some hair out of your face. “You scared the shit out of me baby.” 

“It must have been bad if you’re being so sweet to me.” You said, but you both knew that wasn’t true. Tyler was nothing but sweet to you, if not a bit protective. “I don’t remember anything.” You admitted. “Must have gotten knocked in the head pretty good.” 

“Yeah, stop signs’ll do that to you.” He said, sliding his hand down from your head to take yours in both of his. 

It took a minute for his words to sink in, and for you to realize what he was saying. “Are you telling me a stop sign-”

“Flew straight into your head, and then knocked you down on your arm and knee? Afraid so.” Tyler started caressing your hand with his thumb. “Haven’t seen that much blood in a long time, might’ve traumatized Dani a bit.” 

You let out a groan, and this time it wasn’t from pain. “They’re never gonna let me hear the end of this.” 

Tyler let out a short laugh of disbelief. “They’re just going to be glad that you’re okay.” 

“And then they’re going to tease me mercilessly.” You groaned again, putting your hand to your forehead dramatically only to wince when your hand touched a bandage. “Ouch.” 

He grabbed your hand with a sigh, pulling it away from your face. “Don’t do that.” 

You looked over at your boyfriend again, noting with a frown once again how stressed he looked. It wasn’t an emotion you saw often on his face. The few times you could recall seeing it were in the face of tornado damage. “Are you okay, seriously?” You asked, real concern in your voice. 

Tyler sent you a weak smile. “Carrying your bleeding body into the back of an ambulance wasn’t my favorite thing I’ve ever done.” 

You tried to put yourself in his shoes, imagining what it would have been like to see this man, this man you adored and loved with every fiber of your being, laying on the ground and not moving. It was a nightmare you had often with the line of work you were both in, and something you tried not to think about. Now though, reality had given you a slap in the face, and you knew that if you had seen Tyler like he must have seen you, you would have been hysterical. The thought of what he must have been through made you want to grab him and pull him into this tiny bed with you and hold him. But you knew that would probably break it, and this hospital visit was already going to be expensive, so you reached out with the arm that wasn’t hurting and cupped his handsome face in your hand. “I’m okay, baby.” You tried to reassure him, but at his look of disbelief, you backtracked. “Well . . . mostly.” 

He turned his head to press a soft kiss against your palm that still managed to send butterflies through your stomach, even with all the pain meds. “I’m getting you a helmet.” 

“Can it have your face on it?” You teased him. 

His genuine smile started to return to his face as he leaned forward. “Baby, it can have whatever you want on it.” 

Your fingers slid into his soft blonde hair, pulling him even closer until your lips were centimeters away. “I’ll take it under consideration.” 

Tyler’s smile was full on his face now as he leaned forward a little more to close the gap between the two of you when the heart rate monitor started beeping faster and faster. He pulled away to glance at it, then smirked at you. “That wouldn’t be because of me now would it?” He asked with a smirk. 

You shook your head at him. “Nope, definitely the pain meds wearing off.” 

But you were proven a liar as his soft lips pressed against yours. 

[dollfacefantasy]

wait idk if you write for wade but ermm bf!logan fucking reader n letting wade watch ?!!?!?!? he wants to show wade that you’re his!!!

you got it <3 i have never written for wade before but i’m gonna try my best for you 🙏

logan howlett x fem!reader ft. wade wilson cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation

"You enjoying yourself over there?" Logan grunts from where his jaw rests against your temple.

"How could I not be? You're putting on a great show," Wade replies without missing a beat.

As usual, his answer is laced with mockery. He sits leaned back against the cushion of the sagging chair in the corner. His eyes watch you and your boyfriend with amusement, but the hint of desire gleams over his irises as well.

You're perched in Logan's lap on the bed. You've been here for a while. Your back rests flush against the warmth of his chest. His large palms cup and grope at your breasts, skilled fingers tweaking your nipples below your ribbed shirt. This started as a moment between the two of you, but opened up to include his roommate as the third party a few minutes ago.

"I would've thought you'd already be jerking off, you sick fuck," Logan taunts.

The words roll off Wade's shoulders like water, which is fine because there was no true animosity behind the term of endearment. You understood by now that is just how they communicate. 

"Well I don't know how you remember it, peanut, but you invited me to watch."

"Only cause you practically invited yourself in."

"Please with the way you left the door open, you all but asked for a ménage à trois."

The roll of your boyfriend's eyes is nearly audible to you, but you can actually feel his lips curling up into a smirk against your cheek. His fingertips give your stiffened buds a nice twirl, coaxing a soft whimper out of you. That only heightens how smug he is.

"What d'you think, baby? Is this what you wanted?" he breathes.

All he gets from you with that question is a small whine because, in truth, you didn't intend for this to happen, but you weren't unhappy that it was now. Originally, when you came over to visit your boyfriend, you didn't think his roommate was home. That assumption had been proven wrong by the sound of a low whistle only minutes later, coming from the open doorway Wade was watching through.

It's the same whistle he makes now.

"I always thought you were the type to make cute noises like that," Wade smirks.

"Did you now? You think about her a lot?" Logan says.

"Here and there."

You hear a breathy chuckle behind you, but you're too caught up with the feeling of hands on your chest. They cup and massage, caress and tease. It's bliss, but it's been going on for so long it feels closer to torture. You could feel your panties growing uncomfortably damp; though all you do is tilt your head back against his shoulder. Logan had never let you down. You just needed to be patient.

Wade wasn't content to just watch from the sidelines though, so he pipes up again.

"It's not my fault she struts around in those outfits of hers. Skirts so small they look like they were made for dolls," he quips.

"Her clothes look best when they're on the floor," your boyfriend adds.

To go along with his statement. His hands leave your breasts and tug your shirt over your head, tossing it into the other man's lap. The bright, thin fabric makes the semi-hard tent in his pants more noticeable. You bite your lip as he palms himself over the material.

Your nipples had long been visible through that tiny shirt, but now they were just in plain sight. Wade's eyes had locked onto the hardened nubs. Logan's fingers still fondled them, pulling on them until you whined.

Soon enough, you're arching your back, which unintentionally boosts your hips from his lap. He takes the advantage to pull your skirt from your legs and discard the garment on the floor.

"I think you were right, peanut. She does look much better like this," Wade says, "Maybe we should have a new dress code around the apartment."

"In your dreams. Enjoy this while you can," Logan shoots back.

Your breaths grow labored. You feel the bulge pressed against your ass growing as your hips swivel and rub your plush flesh on the familiar cock.

"She's got pretty tits, doesn't she?"

For once, Wade doesn't have a quick comeback. Instead, he just nods. 

"Spread your legs, bub. Let him see how cute that little pussy is too," Logan rumbles in your ear.

Your thighs spread on instinct as if each syllable was pulling on some puppet strings. Now on display are the simple panties you were wearing and the wet patch that had formed between your thighs. You feel it only growing worse as Wade's eyes snap down to it and stay there.

On the other side of you, one of Logan's arms constricts around your chest while the other dips and slots a hand between your thighs. He cups the heat of your center before his fingers apply ample pressure.

You mewl, body rolling with the new waves of pleasure coursing through your limbs. Logan chuckles at your responsiveness. He nips at your earlobe before more words come out against your skin.

"You showing off? You're moving a lot."

"I-I'm not. Just feels good," you whimper in defense of yourself.

At the reminder of the other man, you cast your gaze over to him. The heel of his palm is still smoothing over his erection, giving himself dull stimulation similar to the kind Logan's providing you with.

"You know what'd make it feel even better?" he asks, the question obviously leading to the answer 'me.'

Before you can muster any kind of response, Logan's hands meet in the middle of your body around the curves of your waist. He picks you up and spins you around, pinning you on your back against the mattress. His larger frame cages you in on the foamy surface.

He tilts his head up to grin at Wade. "Your invitation was to watch. Don't remember asking for your commentary."

"You didn't have to. It's a package deal," he says back.

Logan shakes his head before latching his mouth onto your neck. His teeth scrape at your tender flesh while his tongue simultaneously flicks at your pulse. He teases just the right amount to keep your movements chasing him for more.

Your body squirms beneath the heat of him. He keeps you in place though. His hands sweep down from your shoulders. They stop on your tits to give some more attention to the soft mounds. Then, they continue their descent and coast over your hips, cupping the swell of your ass. It feels like they're so many places at once that for a brief second you wonder if Wade had actually joined in.

You angle your head back and find the other man still parked in his seat, proving your theory wrong. He smiles at you. You see it upside down because of your position. It's the last thing your vision catches before your eyes flutter closed.

Logan pushes you down hard on the mattress before then pulling you up a bit to tear your panties off. Once they're gone, he pulls back onto his knees so he can shove his pants down to mid thigh and get his cock out.

The huge appendage stands proudly before both you and Wade. He wraps his fingers around it and pumps, giving no facial reaction despite the fact that his slit begins oozing precum. You feel like you're gonna start drooling just from watching the rhythmic, repetitive motion that he uses to pleasure himself.

"You like what you see?" he teases.

You start to nod, but Wade chimes in. "Fuck off. Do you even have to ask?"

That brings a giggle from your lips. You look at him over your shoulder, smile on your lips inherently flirty from how turned on you are right now.

"It's nice, isn't it?" you ask.

He does respond, but Logan's voice overpowers him in your ears. "Ah ah. All your attention on me."

He tugs you closer by your thighs, bringing you flush against him. You can feel the way his cock pulses where it rests on top of your cunt. It lies there like a form of foreshadowing. A visual of how he'll be fitting inside you a few moments from now.

"If you're talking to someone else, that means I'm not doing my job right."

With that, his hips slip backward and then slide forward again, pushing his shaft inside the tight, warm, embrace of your cunt. You keen as that familiar feeling of fullness washes over you. Your limbs start to squirm, but he pins your biceps down with his forearms and your legs are trapped from the position he has you in. There's no other option besides lying there and taking it.

He lets out a deep sigh too. You were already spasming around him. Your walls convulse rapidly as they work to accommodate the thick intrusion.

"Still feeling good?" he grunts.

He feels himself all the way bottomed out and rests there for a brief moment. Just as you're about to answer, he drags out and then snaps back in. Your response shatters into a whiny moan. The rest of your words come out garbled as a result, so you just nod instead.

"Yeah? You think you need anything else to make it better?" he asks.

That one gets a rapid head shake in response.

Chuckling at the stark difference, he looks up at Wade in the corner as he starts to thrust at a more measured pace. His intention had been to taunt the merc, but he sees him even more reclined than before, hand stroking his cock up and down. It increases the heat in Logan's belly and gets him slamming into you harder.

"Fuckkkkk," you whine. One of Logan's hands comes up to rest on your throat for better leverage to thrash you against the mattress with.

"You're so tight for me, baby," he groans, "You like this? You like being watched?"

"Mhm, yeah," you answer, words sputtering from your lips like a broken sprinkler.

A sound somewhere between a hum and growl comes from Logan. He leans down impossibly closer, his hips not stopping once.

"You like me showing you off? Showing someone else how well you take me?"

In response, he gets another lazy, blissed-out nod from you.

Despite your head feeling all foggy, your grip on his shoulders stays firm. Your nails dig into the skin, a small way to keep you grounded when you feel like everything around you is just fading into the background.

"Tell me who's making you feel this good," you hear him grunt in your ear.

"You."

The word comes out breathy and moaned. Too quiet for his liking.

"Who? Say my name."

"You, Logan," you whine before a chorus of whimpers bursts from you.

His cock was angled to ram into your favorite spot. It pistons against it over and over. Your legs shake violently, and all you can even think to do is keep calling out his name.

"You hear that?" he asks Wade.

"I think the version of you who died could hear it," the other man smirks.

Your boyfriend huffs out a laugh against your shoulder and keeps fucking into you. The bed creaks almost loud enough to challenge the noise you're making.

Wade keeps dragging his fist over his length. His pace resembles the one Logan's using for you. He squeezes and swipes his thumb over his tip. ghosts his fingers over the sensitive underside. He could tell you were getting close, and he intended to finish along with the two of you.

"Almost there for me, bub?" Logan asks.

"Yeah, yeah. Just need you. Don't stop," you whimper.

"Not going to," he breathes, "Not until there's no question you're mine."

You knew what that meant. There would be no question when he came and had his cum leaking out of your pussy. That's the goal he's working toward, the finish line he's hurtling to.

His hips clap against your center, filling you completely. You rock against the blankets with his momentum. The feeling of euphoria plumes inside you, luring you closer to your release.

"C'mon, no need to be shy. Cum for me. Show him how good I make you feel," he purrs.

Those words are the final strike you need to go crashing over the edge. You choke out a moan, and your body goes lax beneath him. You melt into a twitching puddle of shudders and whines, babbling about how perfect he feels inside you.

Your performance elicits a groan from Wade in the corner. You can't see, but you have strong suspicion it was the finale for him too. You imagine the way his hips buck into his hand and his head tilts back in pleasure. A pristine stream of pearlescent white bursting from him. It drives another wave of ecstasy over you.

Logan cums last. His hands fly to dig into the spaces beside your head; he avoids gripping your arms while he cums to prevent shattering your bones. The light duvet scrunches up with his fists. His eyes close too. A sharp puff of air leaves his mouth before his hips hammer into you deep and spill his load.

His balls smack against your ass, a final resounding sound signifying the end of his thrusts. He looks like a god when he cums, bulky, glistening chest on full display. His v-line and pubes slick with your arousal. Face set into an expression of pure satisfaction.

He fucks you full just like you need. Your eyes droop with the contentment it brings over you.

You're not sure how long you're in that dreamy daze for. You barely register Logan pulling out or climbing off of you. You only regain some sense of your surroundings when you hear mocking applause from behind you.

"Bravo you two. Color me impressed," he says before whistling, "If you guys put that on the internet, you could make something with that. Bring the whole celebrity sex tape thing back."

You hang your head back to look at Wade. "Yeah, but we're not really celebrities," you smile.

"And we're not doing a sex tape," Logan says from the other side of you.

Your head whips around to face him, and you laugh at the serious expression on his face. The sweet sound of your laughter lightens it up a bit. He reaches out to give your cheek a gentle stroke.

"It's just a suggestion. And with a name like the X-men, there's no limit on possible porn titles," Wade concludes, receiving more laughter from you and a groan from Logan.

[honeydewandcake]

TW — Asylum/Hospital setting, mental disorders, medical malpractice

Inspired by Fran Bow, Sparklecare, Pure Trance, and other such things; I had an idea for a Dandy’s World AU that centers around a hospital setting

I feel like a lot of people don’t like asylum or hospital AUs because they are full of exaggerated or misinformed ideas of what mental illness is. I tried not to do that, though I’m not a professional so I still might be wrong about some things. I don’t want to take this idea too far in fear that it might be distasteful, but I do want to share this idea to see if others like it too.

Dandy’s Care is a separate world where, instead of a museum, Dandy and his friends were meant to be for a children’s hospital to treat the sick and ill. They were meant to be comfort characters to patients and were meant to support them during their stay. Like in Dandy’s World, the hospital shut down due to unspecified sanitation issues. Dandy, also known as Dr. Dandicus Dancifer, slowly became more and more starved for activity. He started targeting his friends, making the hospital into an asylum for them. He changed their characters, changing his friends into patients. The toons have no memory of their former self, only knowing their diseased and ill present self.

The staff is made up of the main toons. All of them are nurses and Dandy is the main doctor. They all act like their former selves, though they have no memory. I didn’t want to draw all of them so just imagine Astro and Vee in these uniforms.

Read more to see other toons (not all of them drawn or thought of yet, don’t attack me ;-;) ↓

Razzle and Dazzle, the only ones that I thought of completely because I already drew them before. They’re the reason why I made this entire thing anyway.

They are just experiments by Dandy, who wanted to see if the two could live together if they were attached. They used to love each other, now they don’t. Razzle is no longer looking for comedy, Dazzle is no longer looking for hope. Both are only set on the idea of revenge against Dandy for making them this way.

Life is hard when you can only feel the sensations on one half on your body, they can barely walk and can only stand or sit. They take many painkillers as their wounds take a long time to health properly. They wish they could escape this place and just die already, but they’re stuck and forced to live for as long as Dandy wants.

Razzle is a lot more violent now. He is prone to biting and scratching the staff. He hates doing all the lab tests and medical procedures, he hates being near Dazzle, he hates being stuck in this living hell. Razzle is the reason why they’re not allowed near sharp or blunt objects.

Dazzle became paranoid, scared of any noise that happens. He’s terrified of Razzle because of how violent he can get, he hates him too. Dazzle cries a lot, he cries until he can’t everyday. Dazzle wishes he could just die already, he thinks everything is scary and out to get him.

Shrimpo is thought to be a patient that had anger issues and aggressive tendencies. According to Dandy, he was admitted for being violent in public, although this is only part of the fake story that Dandy gave him. Shrimpo was forced to get a lobotomy, unethical but who cares. Dandy sure didn’t.

He’s still in the recovery phase, so he might be a bit loopy. Once those bandages are off, he’ll be as right as rain. Shrimpo is a wanderer around the hospital as he’s no longer a threat. He’s allowed to leave his room and go out in the play yard but only if a nurse is with him.

Shrimpo doesn’t really have much going for him. His thoughts are scrambled and he only cares for things in front of him. Although the lobotomy made him more passive, it doesn’t mean he’s any better in terms of motivation. Shrimpo certainly has no drive for anything anymore, he doesn’t mind but it gets in the way of his health as well. The staff needs to remind him to go to the dining room to eat or to go take a shower, because otherwise he’ll forget.

Boxten was made to believe that he has had problems with insomnia ever since he was little, of course it’s not true. He takes sleeping pills and melatonin, but it only seems to worsen his nightmares. This makes him skip his doses to avoid sleeping, repeating the cycle over and over.

Boxten is afraid of imaginary things that might get him. He thinks they’ve already in his head, eating away at his brain and giving him nightmares. Of course the only thing the nurses can see is his music box. Boxten has lost all trust in the staff since they couldn’t see or feel the things he can.

In my original notes, it said that Boxten might have psychosis.

Well that’s all the once I’ve drawn, I don’t really have the motivation to make every single toon. I have a couple of ideas though

— Goob somehow survived a terrible accident, but both his arms needed to be amputated making him armless. He suffers from brain damage and internal bleeding. He doesn’t seem to have any change in his personality, still as joyful as ever. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism

— Tisha has severe OCD which damages her mental health. She’s constantly worried about everything that happens around her, making her super aware of her surroundings. She could be a danger to herself and others as she sometimes has very aggressive thoughts but can’t control her actions. She unintentionally hurts herself because of her OCD, such as washing her hands so many times that they start to bleed.

Not for a toon, but I did have an idea for an added addition to the hospital. Maybe there’s a twisted reform center where the staff try and heal twisteds back to their normal self. They would clean the ichor from them but since the ichor is also inside of them their personalities don’t change as much. Twisteds such as Finn and R&D might be too far gone though, they would have to be disabled for life. I might draw this idea because I think it’s kind of cool, I definitely will if people also think this is interesting.

[mysicklove]

CW: Aged up character, sub! Yuuji Itadori, dom! gn! reader, mentions of cock rings/cock cages, heavy orgasm control, reader likes to mess with poor yuuji, dacryphilia, fingers in mouth

WC: 1.2k

A/N: i made this to (hopefully) get out of my writers slump. idk. it was fun to write tho LOL. i neeeeed to work on my WIPs tho.

"Oh Yuuji, I'm disappointed."

His eyes widen at the tone of your voice, soft and defeated, like you truly were upset with him. The idea makes his mouth go dry, and he bites his lip to hold back his tears.

"I-It was an accident, I swear!" he stammers, clinging onto your arm to hopefully convey how panicked he seemed to be. Even an ounce of disapproval from you made him want to sing apologies, and the way you were frowning at him made him sick to his stomach.

You brush his cheek, and he tries to nuzzle into it, but you pull it away before he can, earning a pitiful whimper from the pink-haired boy. He tries to chase your hand, but you give him a warning glare, and he backs down immediately. “You weren’t supposed to cum. I told you no.”

“Imsorryimsorryimsorry!” Yuuji yelps, gripping at his boxers as tears begin to threaten to fall. “I got too excited. It felt too good. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to disappoint you!”

You shake your head at him, pulling away from him. “I don’t like playing with boys who don’t listen.”

The noise that falls from his mouth is pitiful, and even you flinch at the sound. His only goal was to please you, and hearing your words made his heart throb. “No, no, no,” he pleads, “I-I’ll be good again! I’ll listen this time!”

You were sadistic, and he knew you were, so when he saw you smile, more tears cascaded down his face. Alas, you wipe them away and say, "I don't believe you. Do I need to put your ring on again?"

Yuuji hates his cock ring. It was his second least favorite toy you have bought for him. Not being able to cum was one of the most frustrating feelings, especially when he always had so much of it to give.

"No. No I-I dont need my ring," he begs, pawing at your arm. His body was caving over himself, and at this point he was borderline clinging to you, shoving his face into your neck. It was an act to look smaller, more pathetic, and if hopes that he looks meek enough you may take pity on him. "I'll do good this time."

It works, surprisingly enough - you rub the back of his hair and trace his back muscles. He slumps in your hold, knowing well what the affectionate touches meant. Slowly, you move away the arm on his back to his groin, where his cock is already half-hard again.

"You won't cum until I allow you to, yes?"

"Yes," he breathes, relief washing over him at the fact that he isn't going to be punished. "I won't. I promise I won't this time."

Your tongue drags over his neck, and he shivers, eyes shutting and letting out a small gasp. Then, you begin your movements on his cock, sliding your nearly closed palm up and down. His previous cum acts as makeshift lube, and almost instantaneously he grows hard again. It makes you grin at him. "You are quite eager, aren't you, Yuuji?"

"S-Sorry. I just...like it. A lot..." he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut as his mouth drops open.

You lean forward to kiss the scar beneath his right eye, and he lets out a small breathless moan at the soft touch of your lips. "What do you like a lot?"

Yuuji, in return, gulps, flushing a shade of red. He looks at the hand pumping his cock, watching the way your thumb rubs at his plush tip as if daring him to cum again. But still, he manages to respond. "Um-When you touch my...c-cock."

The word was always so embarrassing to him, so lewd sounding. But it was the way you wanted him to refer to it, so he abided by the term that made him feel like he was straight out of a porno.

"That's it," you praise, tilting his head to plant another soft kiss on his mouth. "Will you cum then?"

Yuuji knows better by now, and so he rapidly shakes his head. "No. Not until you allow me to."

He was speaking in between kisses, eyes closed and leaning as close to you as possible.

"And what if you are to wait a week to cum? Make you get out your cage as punishment."

The man's entire body goes rigid, and he quickly pulls away from your mouth, eyes owlish. The hand moves away from the spot between his legs, and he clenches his fists to restrain the urge to force it back.

He seems to be at a loss for words, biting the inside of his cheek and furrowing his eyebrows. A fresh new set of tears slides down his face, but he is quick to wipe them off with the back of his hand.

Although the cockring was torture in the moment, chastity was by far the hardest thing for Yuuji to do. He had a high sex drive, and even going a week without cumming sounded torturous. The longest he has gone is four days without an orgasm, and he was practically pawing at your feet like some sort of attention-starved puppy to get you to touch him.

To trick him into thinking he was going to get another orgasm was cruel, and he was incredibly frustrated. His cock was so hard it was borderline painful, and knowing that he was not going to be granted a release made him unreasonably upset.

But he did disobey you, and you were known to be cruel to him. He looks at your knees and bites his lip. The words come out in a low whisper as if he were almost afraid of them. "I'll go grab m-my cage."

Yuuji begins to pull away from you, heading to the closet to where the devilish toy is located, when suddenly a hand grips the back of his hair and pulls him back to you. His lips forcefully lock onto yours, and immediately your tongue slides into his mouth. He gets so distracted by the suddenness of it all that when he feels the hand back on his cock he lets out a guttural moan that is swallowed by your mouth.

And then you pull away from him, leaving him hazy-eyed and breathless as you lick at the saliva coating your lips. Your other hand thumbs at his lips, and you grin at him, leaning forward. "You're such a good boy, Yuuji. Makes me want to tease you till you run out of tears."

Your thumb has made its way into his mouth, and it presses onto his tongue. The only noise he can make is a low whine, not liking that idea at all but not daring to try to speak with your finger pressed inside his mouth.

But then, much to the boys suprise, you lean forward till you are inches away from his ear and mutter, "You have my permission to cum whenever you like."

And just like a kid in a candy store, Yuuji's eyes lighten.

[reidmania]

loml | spencer reid

summary; after you and spencer reunite at JJ’s wedding after being broken up for two years, you are quick to realise it will never be the same as it was, you’re the love of his life, and he is the loss of yours.

warnings; exes to not lovers but something!! no happy ending, angst, fem reader, season 7 spence, mentions of arguments, falling back into feelings because its familiar, they are so in love, jj’s childhood friend!reader, reader wears a dress, no use of y/n cus ew, reader has long enough hair to have up, they are so meant to be its not even funny, everyone can see it. they are perfect for each other TIME IS MEAN!!!

an; hey this was ur fault ! also i made so much shit up abt the wedding because i cbf rewatching that ep tbh 🥰🥰

‘what a valiant roar, what a bland goodbye’ is this fic

also this was written in an hour and im sick and im pretty sure its horrible and doesn’t make sense but thats so okay!! lmk if u want a part two!! they deserve better pls want a part two!!

‘Who's gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames? If we know the steps anyway. we embroidered the memories, of the time I was away, stitching, "We were just kids, babe", I said, "I don't mind, it takes time" I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed. I felt aglow like this, never before and never since. if you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary. you and I go from one kiss to gettin married. still alive, killing time at the cemetery, never quite buried. in your suit and tie, in the nick of time. you lowdown boy, you stand up guy, holy ghost, you told me I'm, the love of your life’

You remembered it all too well.

The lights gleamed around the garden, there was some background music playing, quietly in the distance, probably louder for the people surrounding it. Whereas you had found yourself settled in a quieter corner of the beautifully set garden. The ceremony was beautiful, you sat through and tried to avoid shedding tears seeing someone so important so happy.

You were alone, watching the guests of the wedding dance when you felt the presence behind you. The familiar cologne filled your senses in a way that made your head spin and chest ache with familiarity and overwhelming comfort. Two years since you and smelt the cologne and it still had the same effect on you.

You remembered the conversation as if it was a broken record playing on repeat in your mind. How your head turned towards him and the smile lit up his face. Its not like you had ended on bad terms — not at all. It was a mutual agreement to break up all those years ago. You were just at two different points in your lives and it was beginning to clash.

His voice was gentle when he said your name. You had seen him around earlier, your heart had skipped a beat and your stomach filled with familiar butterflies, but you didn’t approach him. Now here he was, standing in front of you, saying your name as if no time had passed at all.

You repeated his name back, a smile on your face as you stood up from the white garden chair that had been delicately placed around the table. His arms enveloped you almost as soon as you were standing. You could recall the way they felt, safe, secure and the exact same as they had two years beforehand.

“You look great” He had mumbled into your hair, his hands pressing against the small of your back, furthering your presence against him, trailing of the silk of the floor length dress you had worn, face buried into your hair as if he had been waiting his entire life for this moment.

Your hands rested on the back of either of his shoulders, head resting against the front of his shoulder. You were sure he could feel the small breath of air you let out against his neck before you pulled yourself away from the hug. “So do you. It’s been so long.” You had said, eyes trailing over his face, taking in every noticeable change since the last time you had seen him.

“Too long.” He agreed, eyes mirroring yours as they danced along your features, as if he was committing it to memory.

The words had made your chest tighten and warm all at once. It wasn’t long before you were sitting at an empty table, catching up. You told him about everything that had changed in your time apart as did you. And then the topic swiftly changed as the two of you danced along fond memories of your years spent together.

“We were so young” He mumbled after you had recalled a specific memory of the two of you having pillow fights on late Saturday nights, a small thing that became a common ritual every night Spencer had been home on a Saturday. Your smiled had widened at his words — although only two years ago the maturity between you both and grown massively.

He added quickly as he reached out to take your hand, a familiar movement you had been neglected of the last two years. “I was too young, immature.. You always deserved more than what I could’ve given you then.” His words were sweet and sincere yet you begged to differ.

“I think that was the happiest i’ve ever been.” You recalled. Everyday spent with Spencer was a memory you kept safe in a secure part of your mind. You looked back at photos from that time, there was a certain gleam in your eye, one that wasn’t found in any photo recently, despite being content with your place in life currently.

Being with Spencer was a sort of fever dream, a sort of perfect you’d only find in a film or a romance novel, things like falling asleep while he read to you, or slow dancing in the dim moon light that gleamed through the kitchen window at late hours, small love notes left around the house, that was something that you failed to find anywhere else — not for a lack of looking.

His eyes stayed on yours, his skin glowing under the warmed yellow lighting of the fairy lights that dazzled the garden with their gleam, his eyes holding a certain sparkle you could only describe as nostalgia. “Me too.” He had said, eyes dropping from yours to your hand in his.

You didn’t know what to say. Your heart soared with the warmth from his touch, your mind fogging from any sense of realism, until your thumb traced his knuckles and it lacked the familiarity everything else did. His hands had grown rougher, more callous although the same soft in your touch.

“Dance with me?” He offered, eyes lifting to meet yours again. Voice gentle and barely above a whisper as if he was scared you would reject him, maybe even more scared you would accept and it wouldn’t be the same as it was.

You nodded, accepting anyways.

His hands dragged yours to the crowd of other people dancing. His hands moved to wrap gently around your waist, your arms slinging over his shoulders to wrap around his neck as his arms pulled you in close. Chest to chest. Heart to heart.

The music fell into background noise as your focus was pulled instead to the sound of his gentle breathing, and slow heartbeat as his head rested atop of yours that was press into his shoulder. You fell into step as if no time had passed at all, you swayed gently in his arms.

“I’ve missed you.” His words came out as a whisper and your heart pulled. This was wrong, you could feel it in your stomach yet the thought was quickly replaced by the feeling of home that buried itself in your ribcage as his hands trailed gently up and down your sides in a soothing familiar motion.

You wanted to reply and tell him you had missed him too, that every night you laid in bed and recalled every last moment between you too. How people from your past still asked about him, how their faces fell when you laughed and admitted you were no longer together.

You wanted to tell him that in the time that had passed you had still the framed photos in a box under your bed, how you hadn’t changed a single detail in your apartment just in case one day he came over. You wanted it to be familiar.

It was, This was. Everything about Spencer was familiar and it was safe.

“I think we needed the time.” You exhaled out, honestly. Maybe if you were to try again now it would end up differently. Maybe he was right in what he said earlier — you were both too immature to handle the intensity of the love the streamed between you. The pull that seemed magnetic the minute your eyes laid on his.

He hummed gently as his arms stopped their movements on your side and instead rewrapped themselves around your waist, dancing down your back, holding you close as he inhaled your scent. This was all he ever wanted.

“Everyone still tells me I was a fool for letting you go, that I was meant to be with you. I think they were right.” He mumbled out into your hair. You remembered being told the same thing. You remembered your friends telling you how sorry they were and how they could have never imagined you and Spencer ever breaking up, ‘you guys were the great love story’ they had rambled.

You shook your head against his shoulder. It was meant to happen like that. Maybe this was all you would ever be. Meant to happen, but never actually happening.

“Maybe” You exhaled, unable to bring yourself to say more as you relished in the moment. The distance of the last two years between you both seemed to disappear as your focus remained on everything that was the same.

The difference, he was different, you were different. Your likes and dislikes had changed, as you assumed his. How if you were to try again you would have to relearn one another. Everything he once knew about you was a distant memory, a familiar reminder of what had once been. Of what was once lost.

His lips pressed against the side of your head and your heart pressed against your chest uncomfortably as your heart beat increased. His hands left a burning trail on your skin even over the fabric of your dress. It was too similar, and too different all at once.

The love between you and Spencer was loud. You loved each other loudly. It was never meant to be a secret, everyone saw it in the shared glances, even now, in the way his touch was significantly gentler with you than anyone else, how your body relaxed in his grasp.

The love between you was loudest in the silence.

Everyone could see it.

Your mind burnt with the memory of the night you broke up, he brought the idea of a breakup up. He suggested it and you whole heartedly agreed. Not for a lack of love. You both mutually expressed the amount of love you had for each other throughout the entire conversation. It just wasn’t the right time. The conversation happened, he mumbled out ‘don’t be a stranger’ as he kissed your forehead in the doorway of your home.

You had let out a wet chuckle as his fingers brushed away the tears that stained your cheeks, similar ones on his own. You agreed, he mumbled an I love you, and then a ‘ill see you soon’

And you hadn’t seen him since.

Until now.

You hadn’t been bitter about it. You were partially glad you hadn’t seen him. You knew if given the chance in those two years you would’ve ran back to him in an instant. Told him how you were sure your heart hadn’t been beating regularly without him by your side, then listened to him ramble about the science of broken heart syndrome as you pressed soft kisses against every inch of his face.

“Whats going on in your pretty head?” He asked. You let out a laugh at his sweet words. The sentence something he had used numerous times throughout the years of your relationship whenever you found yourself lost in thought.

Everything had changed, yet stayed the exact same.

“I don’t think I’ll ever move on from us.” You mumbled out honestly. The words a weight on your chest, a truth that had been buried down your throat you failed to admit to anyone else.

His touch provided a specific burn against your skin, his voice playing an irreplaceable melody in your mind, his sweet words and whispered nothings written on every butterfly that filled your stomach, his eyes unparalleled to another. the feeling in your chest that only he could arise. the smile on your face only he could provide, the gleam in your eyes only present when he was too.

He had left a mark on you, your relationship had left you in a daze for the last two years without you even realising it. nothing would provide the same fulfilment as being by his side did.

Every feeling with him had been new and original, a sort of happiness you didn’t know was humanly possible. You were pretty sure he provided you with a dangerous amount of dopamine, an addictive amount.

If Spencer was a drug, then you had been going through withdrawals for years.

“I know I will never move on from us” His admission carried a different weight than yours did. Despite being the same the meaning was different.

it left your heart heavy and regret flowering in your chest.

“I should go, I told my roommate i’d be home early.” You whispered out, against the soft fabric of his suit jacket. His arms tightened around you momentarily before releasing his hold on you.

His eyes were lidded when he looked down at your face, your arms fell from his shoulders and your stomach twisted at the familiarity of the loss of his touch.

“Don’t be a stranger.” He said, voice quiet, meaningful and honest and you felt an overwhelming urge to vomit. Everything left unsaid over the last two years coming up in the back of your throat but remaining unsaid.

“I won’t.” You promised.

His lips pressed against your forehead as he squeezed your waist gently, before letting you go.

The movement was natural, like you would spend every day of the rest of your life doing it. as if you would wake up in the morning tangled a-mess in his arms, the you would find yourself a giggling mess during a pillow fight on an upcoming Saturday night. As if you were finally going to happen.

You didn’t see him again after you left that night.

You burnt with the memory of his arms and his lips against your skin that night for the next years of your life.

For a love so loud everything seemed so quiet. You recalled the goodbye between you two that seemed so peaceful and tame, an understatement of the love that blossomed when in one another’s presence.

An invalidation of everything he had made you feel.

For a great love story, someone had to experience a great loss.

And he was yours.

[hongism]

what lies beneath us. - c. san (m)

➼ genre; fluff, smut, slight angst for the first half but i make it better quickly promise ➼ pairing; san x afab!reader ➼ au; established relationship, college au ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 6.4k

one busy semester is all it took for you and san to find yourselves struggling to find footing in the storm that is your relationship, yet rather than let go, he asked for one more week, one more day, one last chance to help get you back to shore

part of the ...and it's snowing collab.

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➼ smut warnings; unprotected sex, oral: m, vaginal fingering, praise, body worship, service-top san, san has some slightly submissive tendencies, coming inside

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You normally wouldn’t find yourself in Wooyoung’s apartment on a Tuesday morning, sitting at the bar counter beside his roommate with two mugs of coffee sitting on the granite between you, but you also haven’t had any leisure time to waste lately. It’s a miracle that Wooyoung is even up before ten o’clock, though that might be in part due to you pleading desperately over the phone to come over.

“Oh, you make her coffee but not me? The fuck is up with that, Hwa?” Speak of the devil, Wooyoung comes into the kitchen still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“She’s a guest, you live here. And I had to wake you up because you slept through three alarms so my sympathy levels are close to zero right now.” Seonghwa flashes a faux shrug despite the heated glare he’s sent. Wooyoung lets out a huff but lets it go in favor of redirecting his attention to you.

“Right, well, what did you need to talk about so badly that it couldn’t wait until the afternoon?”

“San is coming over tonight, I couldn't do the afternoon,” you mumble.

“Is it about him then? Did something—” he waves a hand through the air like that’ll explain his thoughts, and when confusion shows on both your face and Seonghwa’s, he gives up “—did something happen between you guys?”

“It feels a bit awkward,” you admit over the rim of your coffee mug. Wooyoung scoffs at that, but Seonghwa is far more forgiving than your best friend in that he sends you a sympathetic grin. 

“Awkward?” he prompts, toying with his own drink. Wooyoung pushes away from the counter and turns to the coffee maker.

“I don't know. Yeah, awkward, a bit. I guess. Like we don't know what we're doing or how to be in a relationship anymore.”

The brutal semester you both just suffered has been the main factor in the wedge in your relationship. Weekends full of studying, ones that you spent together at the start of the semester when he would come to your place or vice versa so that you could be together even while working. Then, San started picking up more shifts at his part-time job, and you had to redirect your focus to a particularly important internship that required you to forgo those weekends in the blink of an eye. You did have two weekends free of school and work, but San had to rush home during one of those on account of his mother falling ill. The other one was shot by you falling ill with the worst cold you’ve known in all your years of living. San came by that Friday with your favorite chicken and beer, but you couldn’t bring yourself to risk getting him sick when you knew how important the semester was to him too. It didn’t keep him from coming by again Saturday and Sunday both, soup was delivered to your front door along with voice messages wishing you well throughout the night. Even your text conversations were fizzling into oblivion by the time finals rolled around, which only served to amplify your feelings of dread. 

“Has he been acting differently?” Wooyoung tunes back into the conversation, this time more serious with his tone. “Like, he's pulling away or something?” Wooyoung stands on a different footing in this conversation and knows things Seonghwa doesn't in terms of your relationship with San. He's been there for you since well before you started dating San, and you're certain that he'll be there for you if it were to end tomorrow, the next day, or years down the line. 

“It's gonna sound so childish and stupid but he hasn't been calling me nicknames since the semester ended.” You tuck your hands into your lap and shrink into yourself a little, feeling the hot burn of shame well up inside.

“That's not stupid at all, y/n,” Seonghwa reassures barely a second after you finish your train of thought. “That's not.”

“He's right. That's totally unlike San.”

“Not! Helping!”

“I'm just being honest?!”

“Look, y/n, I don't want you to start having doom thoughts or thinking the worst — that doesn't mean his feelings for you have changed.” You’re starting to think that you should’ve asked Seonghwa for advice from the start instead of Wooyoung. “Maybe he's feeling that awkwardness you are too, or maybe he's feeling insecure. The only way to know is to ask. Have an open and honest conversation about it.”

“But…” You glance past Seonghwa to look at Wooyoung's back. Without even needing to look back, he seems to feel the weight of your stare.

“You're scared that if you bring it up, the worst will happen and y'all will break up.”

“We've been dating for so long that I don't know what I would do if that happened. I don't know how to be single, no offense to either of you, but it's just that we've been together for so long now. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if it ended.”

“If…” Wooyoung bites his words back as though he's unsure of how they will come out. “I don't want this to sound harsh, but if all it takes for him to lose his feelings for you is one busy semester, then that's not someone I would want you to have a future with. I know it's not up to me and it's not my business, but I want you to value yourself more than you value your relationship with San.”

“I truly don't think he's lost his feelings for you, y/n,” Seonghwa cuts in again, hand darting out across the counter in your direction. “Woo is right; you should value yourself more than the relationship you're in, but that doesn't mean you can only have one of those things. They can coexist.”

“What if I’m fighting for something he doesn’t want any longer?” you inquire softly and under your breath.

“The spark isn’t gone, y/n, I’m certain of that much. Maybe you just… need to find a way to reignite it!” The coffee maker dings loudly behind Wooyoung. And like it’s turning on a lightbulb in Wooyoung’s head, his expression turns suddenly bright. “Why not do just that? It’s been half a decade, to be fair, so really you can’t be blamed if things feel a little stale. If you went and did things that made you fall for each other in the first place, wouldn’t that help a bit?”

“I hate to say it…”

“You always say that when I’m right!”

“Ignoring him, that does sound like a good plan, y/n.”

Despite the reassurance from both your best friend and someone you consider to be far more mature and wiser, it doesn’t fully quell the concerns settling in your gut.

It’s only been six days since you last saw San, though you would argue that it feels a lot more like six months given how absent you both have been from each other’s lives of late. While that isn’t particularly your fault or his wholly — it’s definitely a joint effort that’s kept you apart — it does make your skin itch with anxiety every time you think about seeing him again.

It’s all culminated into this moment right now, where you sit on the edge of your couch waiting for the doorbell to ring and announce his arrival. You want to see him, desperately so, you’ve missed him so incredibly much that you can hardly stand it. And yet — you’re rooted to the cushions riddled by anxieties. You tried to rid yourself of the lingering stress after leaving Wooyoung’s apartment by doing chores properly for the first time in months, going so far as to run to the grocery and restock some necessities as well. You hate to be the type of partner who cannot do anything alone without associating it with your partner, but San was on your mind throughout the day.

Will he feel the same as you even though the flame keeping your relationship alive has been inching closer and closer to nothingness? The two of you don’t fight, in fact, your friends like to say that things go a little too smoothly between you two, and while that’s true, they aren’t aware of what it looks like when you and San aren’t getting along. It looks the way this semester has, slow conversations that lead nowhere and less time spent in each other’s presence. You aren’t fighting right now, but you certainly aren’t all sunshine and rainbows. The weather mirrors your emotions — dim greys shrouded by white flurries of snow that have been falling since early afternoon.

You clench your fingers around the seam of the couch cushion. No part of you wants to play the part of the overbearing partner: if you’re too eager to see him, wouldn’t he find it off-putting? 

The doorbell rings.

It takes a moment for you to brace yourself for impact, standing and walking over to the door as slowly as you can manage without it seeming like a deliberate delay. The second you open the door, however, your worries melt away for a moment. 

San smiles so brightly like you’ve not gone a second without reveling in each other’s presence. The weather is clinging to his coat still even though he had to climb three flights of stairs to reach your door. The little snowflakes are beginning to melt into the fabric.

“May I come in?” The facade cracks a bit. It’s not like him to ask such things, but you choose not to hold it against him now.

“Yeah, yeah, I finally had time to clean the other day so everything’s — nice.” 

If your smile is strained, he says nothing about it, stepping over the threshold and into your apartment like it’s the first time he’s ever done so. He’s polite all the time, but now it makes those seeds of doubt sprout further because you’ve been together for five years now, what reason does he have to act like a stranger in your home? A home he’s been in time and time again, one he’s slept in, fucked you— 

“Do you want ramen or pizza?” You force the thoughts to come to a halt before your expression turns bitter.

“Let’s do ramen, I’ll cut up the vegetables for you.”

There’s an elephant in the room that it seems neither of you wants to address, and so you keep your mouth shut just the same as San with the thought of “maybe this awkwardness will pass after tonight”. You watch him remove his coat and hang it up on the door while still picking at your nails. He extends a hand to you, one you take eagerly, and you lace your fingers through the gaps between his. A bit like a well-oiled machine, you think, something that Wooyoung had noted about the two of you as far back as freshman year of college. San presses his lips to the top of your head. You lean into the touch ever so slightly. 

You share in a quiet synergy that carries you through the motions of preparing food, with no conversation exchanged aside from a “watch for the knife” and “careful, behind you” on occasion. You’re still trying to psyche yourself up to bring up what’s truly on your mind, so you aren’t sure that you’d be able to get any conversation out without it spiraling into insanity right off the bat. For the moment, for now, you want to simply drink in San’s presence. 

He hums as he opens a cabinet in search of bowls, but they aren’t there. 

“Oh, I—I moved the bowls to the other side.” Three months ago, your mind adds. It would do nothing but add salt to a blossoming wound. San stops dead in his tracks too. He seems to suffer the same crisis that you do right then. After a few seconds of mental buffering, he resumes his humming and shifts to the adjacent cabinet like the moment didn’t happen at all. 

You sit beside each other at the bar counter, atop the uncomfortable stools you’ve had for well over two years now, but it offers a weird comfort because it’s familiar, it’s something San knows, it’s something you share and have shared for years. 

“Thanks for the meal,” San says, still wearing a bitten-back smile. 

“Of course. Thank you for helping.” But the detrimental reality of not speaking to someone properly for a long while is that part of you forgets how to make conversation with them. There is nothing for you and San to “catch up on” seeing as you’ve been keeping each other updated on your lives through dry text conversations. “Um…” He’s eyeing you carefully now, and you could pass off the watering in your eyes as the spice of the food, but he would call your bluff in an instant. The funny thing about doubt is that once it’s taken root, it’ll keep growing back no matter how many times you chop at the stem.

“What’s wrong, y/n?”

“It’s just — I don’t — are we breaking up?”

San freezes halfway over his ramen, chopsticks nearly falling from his fingers as he rushes to put his noodles back down. Your shoulders start shaking before you can stop it. He doesn’t stop you from turning away from him, but San has always been endlessly patient and gentle with you so you don’t expect him to ask you to look at him anyway. He does rest a hand atop your forearm though, and his thumb drags small, comforting circles over your skin. 

“Talk to me, y/n, what do you mean by that? Why would we be breaking up?” The words themselves sound calm. There’s a slight quiver to his tone, however, that makes you want to crawl inside yourself and disappear. “A-Are you wanting that?” Your continued lack of response makes San more urgent than ever, and he shifts his hand to your leg, spinning you to face him. You can’t be certain of the expression on your face (though you’d wager there is some degree of hurt); whatever San sees makes him let out a distressed noise from the back of his throat. “Come here, duck, talk to me.”

Standing on somewhat shaky legs, you push yourself closer to San, and he instinctually moves his knees apart to let you tuck yourself into the space there.

“Don’t cry, baby, I’m here, you can talk to me,” he murmurs, hands cupping your face in his hands. You reach down to cling to his shirt like it’s a lifeline. 

“That’s the first time you’ve called me that in weeks. This is the first time we’ve spent time together in six days. We’ve barely spoken or spent time together all semester, and I know why — I know we agreed that school and work have to come first. I know that.” Your voice drops to a whisper as you lose the confidence to speak. “I didn’t think it would mean losing you though.”

“You haven’t lost me, y/n. I’m still here, with you, loving you just as much as ever.” San smiles a little as you push your cheek further into his palm. “My feelings have not changed. I thought about you every day, wondered how you were doing, and if you responded to my texts late, I hoped you were eating well and getting enough rest. I listened to your voice memos rooting for me every night. Your face was always the first thing I saw in the morning because I still keep that slideshow of you as my lockscreen.” Reaching around to the back of your neck, he gives you a little tug, and your foreheads bump together. “The thought of you helped get me through the semester because I knew that it was you who was waiting for me at the end of the tunnel.”

“Sannie…”

“How long have you been worried over this, baby? You should’ve come to me the moment you started having doubts. I wouldn’t have let this go on if I had known.”

“I thought I felt you pulling away so I was scared to bring it up. You weren’t calling me nicknames anymore, and I started reading into it too much and freaked myself out.”

“I’m so sorry, y/n. Don’t put the blame on yourself, it’s not a crime to have anxieties. I didn’t even realize I stopped using them. I suppose I just got swept up in my own feelings and wanted to call you by your name as much as possible.” He nudges you with his head again. “Because I missed you so dearly.” Your lips turn up at the corners, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend. “And because I adore you so so much, my y/n.”

“Stop that.” You hope he doesn’t, truly.

“But I’m so mushy and full of love for you, y/n.”

“You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Oh, I can think of other ways to do that, baby.” San stands, subsequently pushing his body into yours, but your hands are still on each other, his moving down to caress the back of your thigh before he hooks his fingers around the bend of your knee and hoists your leg up over his hip. “I haven’t been good to you, my sweet,” he murmurs close to your lips. “What kind of boyfriend am I if I let you feel unwanted?” Your heart skips a beat as he grips tight at your other leg, then you’re suddenly weightless for a second as he hoists you up to his waist.

“We just ate—”

“I don’t plan on letting that stop me.” You let out a gasp as San traces the line of your jaw with his lips, hot breath spilling across your skin as he carries you from the kitchen. “Unless you want it to?” This damned man knows what he’s doing, he knows the hold he has over you — your brain is already turning into a foggy mess of want, and even the prospect of waiting two minutes for him to lay his hands on you is too much to bear. Your nails drag across his shoulders, tugging at the thin material. He misses the doorknob to your bedroom thanks to your antics, sending you against the wood a little harshly and forcing the air out of your lungs. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Still on the pill.”

“Hm?” he echoes, managing to turn it right on the second try and popping it open properly.

“I’m still on the pill,” you repeat. San freezes in place to stare at your face. You bring a hand around to toy at his parted lips with your thumb. “So you can fuck me raw.”

San becomes so dumbstruck that his jaw moves up and down over and over without any semblance of noise coming out.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a horny teenager,” he says under his breath. You drop your head back and laugh. San’s hold on you feels so blissfully warm. You didn’t even have time for this during the semester, sometimes thanks to your workloads but more often thanks to sheer exhaustion. A few solo jaunts before bed are hardly enough to please you the way San does. Based on how tightly he’s gripping your ass, he seems to feel exactly the same.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

He manages to get you both to the bed without further incident, laying you down on the mattress with a sort of reverence that makes your chest swell with emotion. Even through the barrier of clothing, his fingers are hot and sear a path from your hips up your waist then right back down again as San wastes no time in stripping you of your pants. 

“I missed you so fucking much it’s insane.” You want to respond, but the sight of your lover dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed stops you in your tracks. All you can do is lie there and watch him tug your pants off, lips moving to kiss each bit of exposed skin along the way. Goosebumps rise across your body when he kisses his way up higher. His broad frame cages you in the closer he gets to your face, and despite his hands being on the somewhat small side, they feel all-encompassing when they’re sneaking under your shirt and exploring the skin beneath.

“I missed you more,” you murmur, catching his chin between your fingers and angling his face upwards so you can properly look at him. “I love you so so much, San. More than I can put into words.”

“Yeah?” You make no effort to pull him higher although he moves as though you do and climbs all the way up to be right over your face. He hums before dipping down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “I think I’ve missed you more still though—” another kiss, this time to the opposite side of your mouth “—but you’re welcome to challenge me on that.”

“San,” you whine. He pulls back and sits back on his knees. Your brain goes totally blank watching him take his shirt off. It’s something you’ve seen time and time again, truly nothing new or foreign to you, but something about it now makes your gut twist in on itself. He’s lost a bit of the muscle you’ve grown accustomed to seeing on him, now softer around the edges, at the waist and across his stomach. It doesn’t curb your desire for him in the slightest; if anything it makes you want him more, to cling to him tighter and feel him firmer against you.

He throws the shirt down to the floor and drags a hand through his dark hair. His legs are splayed around yours, putting the prominent bulge in his pants on full display before you.

“I want you to use me, y/n.” He grabs your hand from where it’s resting against the bed and brings it to his chest. You dig your nail into his flesh like it’s second nature to do so. “Tonight, for your pleasure.” His eyes trail after your every moment, watching as you sit up and pull your legs out from under him. You graze the underside of his dick ever so slightly yet it’s still enough to make his lashes flutter. 

“Then…” San is like putty in your hands, conforming to every move you make while still maintaining that unbreaking eye contact. He turns with you, and you climb off the bed to stand despite feeling seconds away from toppling over. All it takes is the slightest push against his chest for him to lie flat on his back. “Will you be good for me?” 

His response comes in the form of a bitten-back whine thanks to you cupping the bulge of his cock as you withdraw your hand. It’s intoxicating to strip him of his jeans and feel every inch of his pretty tapered waist. You urge him to move further up on the bed, making room for you between his legs once you’ve tossed his pants down beside yours on the floor. The tip of his cock peeks out the top of his underwear, already stiff and leaking precum onto the elastic band. Saucy nudes here and there don’t do him nearly enough justice, you think. You tease just the bit of him that's exposed with your tongue, licking at the sensitive and swollen head, and he twitches beneath the fabric. Humming to yourself, you inch his underwear down just far enough to put his whole member on display, along with his balls, but you don’t go any further than that. It’s enough for you to get your mouth around him, after all, and that’s exactly what you do without giving San any time to brace himself for the touch.

He lets out a desperate moan the moment your wet heat envelopes his length, fingers curling into his palms around the comforter. His hips twitch with the desire to thrust upwards, but he keeps himself firmly planted on the bed, fulfilling his end of the bargain for you and being so delightfully good. The weight of him on your tongue isn’t nearly enough; you want him buried deep inside you as soon as possible, and you’d go on and do it now if you didn’t think it would hurt like a bitch given how long it’s been since you’ve taken him. San isn’t distracted enough to miss the way you retract a hand to touch yourself, and he fights to speak through broken moans.

“I w-wanna touch you, pretty.” You lift yourself off his cock until just the tip sits on your lower lip.

“I’ll let you later when I ask you to fold me in half and fuck me into the mattress.” You sink two fingers into your hole, taking San back into your mouth to revel in that full feeling again. You’re just as needy as he is, in reality, because your walls are already coated with arousal and it pools around the base of your fingers in such a way that it makes your cheeks flush. San’s noises aren’t helping in the slightest — for as quiet as he is in day-to-day life, he is ever so vocal when it comes to sex, especially when his cock is buried in your mouth. He’s just long enough to push right into the back of your throat, making it far easier for you to take him fully. 

“Your mouth feels so — fuck, fucking good, baby.” If you weren’t preoccupied, you would love to return his words with your own, so you settle for tugging at his balls a little. It earns you a delightful little yelp, and his hips buck up to drive his dick further into your throat than expected. “Hngh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“I want—” you don’t finish your train of thought, too rushed to bother with it as you scramble to rid yourself of your underwear. San greets you with his hands when you climb back onto the bed and grabs hold of your waist. He tugs and pulls at your shirt until it’s gone too, leaving you with nothing more than your plain black bra. However, even that San seems to find issue with, because he toys with the clasp until it comes loose and throws that aside too.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, settling back against the mattress. He’s always told you this is his favorite position, to see you straddling his hips and bouncing on his cock, though he favors missionary quite a bit as well because it lets him see your body and face while he’s fucking you (despite how much he loves your ass). His cock is trapped between your pussy and his stomach now, hard and throbbing for the same kind of stimulation you so desperately crave. You drag your folds along his length a few times just to tease San, but he grips your hip in warning. In hindsight, you should have let him finger you open more before because the stretch is far more than you remember — not enough to hurt, but enough for you to really feel every inch of him entering your body. It makes you writhe atop him, your spine arches, and you drop your head back. San holds you like you're a precious gem, thick arms circling around your waist as you rest your hands on his chest. The position gives you some much-needed stability, but San's fingers have begun to get severely distracting. He rolls his thumbs into your skin, pausing only to squeeze and pinch at the more sensitive parts of your sides. 

“I’m gonna start moving,” you whisper like being too loud will break some sort of seal. San nods and unwraps his arms enough to simply hold your hips. Despite the decrease in definition of his muscles, his strength doesn’t seem to have gone anywhere, because he lifts you with such ease that it’s a bit dizzying. Still, he lets the control rest in your hands. You sink down slowly on his cock, letting your walls get used to the drag, before doing the same motion two, three more times. The first whimper to fall from your lips is what snaps your resolve. San’s hold on you remains firm but only to ease the strain on your thighs as you begin to pick up your pace. 

“Beautiful, beautiful, you’re so beautiful, my sweet.” San rolls his hips up in time with your movements, driving his cock up into your cunt as you drop yourself onto him, and it reaches so deep inside you that you see stars behind your eyelids. “Missed you so much, missed this, seeing your body through photos wasn’t enough — fuck, it wasn’t enough.”

“How many, ah, times did you come to those photos, hm?” You crack one eye open to watch San’s face. He’s already flushed with want, but the red in his cheeks deepens more upon hearing your question. You lean your weight further into your hands. “I fingered myself so many times thinking of you, Sannie. B-But, hngh, it wasn’t good enough. Not as good as your cock. Nothing… n-nothing feels as good!”

San thrusts up with more vigor now, all but taking over for you to go slack above him as he drives your hips down with his hands and pushes his length into you from the opposite direction. Then, suddenly, his movements falter and stutter to a halt, and he looks just as shocked as you are when his cock twitches against your walls. A blooming of warmth fills you right after, along with the realization that San has just come inside you without warning.

“I-I’m sorry, I — I didn’t mean to, ah, I thought I would last longer.” He slings an arm up over his eyes, and the red in his face deepens in hue. “I’m sorry, I should’ve let you come first.” You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Leaning down over him, you peel his arm away from his face so that you can see his shamed expression better.

“Your dick is far from the only thing that can make me come, babe. Right?” 

He nods a few times, but there’s still a pout on his lips. You kiss it away. 

“Then—” you detach yourself from his body, bringing about an unwelcome emptiness as his spent cock slips out of you, and roll onto your back beside him. He watches with rapt attention as you spread your legs and open your pussy to him. “Why don’t you?”

San moves with surprising haste for a man who has just come, rolling into the space between your legs, and while you expected him to just use his fingers to get you off, he hooks his hands around your thighs and shoves his face into your used cunt instead. It yanks a startled moan out of you, and it’s only amplified when he closes his lips around your clit. He’s lucky you don’t give him a concussion with how quickly you slam your thighs around his head. You don’t notice that he’s moved a hand until fingers are prodding at your leaking entrance and urging the come he just pumped into you back into your hole.

“O-Oh, San.” 

Normally, he takes his sweet time eating you out, bringing you to the precipice of orgasm before sending you right back down time and time again without release. Though, either out of lingering shame at coming early or simply out of a desire to make you unravel, San laps at your clit so eagerly that it sends shudders through you. You can feel your blood rushing lower as he urges you to come, walls clenching around his fingers. It only takes another second more for the first wave to hit you, and it makes you scramble to grab hold of San’s hair as he keeps curling his fingers over your sweet spot. He does so throughout each wave of your orgasm until tears burn the corners of your eyes and you’re all but pleading for him to grant you some mercy.

“You — you had nothing to prove, you know,” you say between desperate attempts to catch your breath. San giggles and looks up at you from his lewd position. “Ugh!” You shove his head away from you half-heartedly just to spare yourself more embarrassment.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that, duck!”

You only go as far as the pillows, turning back to him immediately and opening your arms to welcome him into them. 

“I came too early, of course I had something to prove,” he adds once he’s snugly placed against your chest. You slot together like two pieces of a puzzle, his head under your chin and your breath stirring the messy strands of hair in your path. “I’ve fallen out of practice. When was the last time I did that? It’s embarrassing…”

You can’t contain your laughter.

“You always come a little early when I ride you.”

“That’s not fair!”

All you can do to soothe him is pat his head. You feel a tad sticky and gross all over, but San’s warmth more than makes up for it, and if you’re not careful, you’re certain you’ll fall asleep within minutes. A small sniffle coming from the man atop you chases thoughts of rest away in the blink of an eye though.

“San?”

“’m okay, promise.”

“You’re crying, baby, that’s not ”okay“.”

“I just,” he inhales and licks over his lips, skating across your sternum in the process. “I wasn’t sure I was gonna stay afloat without you.” You comb your fingers through his hair.

“Tell me when you need me and I’ll be there. Always.”

“I didn’t want to disrupt your schedule and get in the way.”

“You have to trust that I’ll take care of myself and my responsibilities even if I help you too. You always tell me that when I worry over the same things. It goes both ways, San, okay?”

“Okay.” He nods against you. “Okay, I’ll try to remember that. As long as you don’t lock yourself away when things get tough. Rely on me if you need strength. And talk to me when something is on your mind.”

“Alright, we have an agreement.” Out of nowhere, you remember Wooyoung’s suggestion from this morning. Picking at a stray piece of San’s hair, you mull over your thoughts some more. You could let things settle as they are now since things seem to be back to a pleasant state of balance. But even so, would it do any harm to try anyway? “I’d like to go on a first date again. With you. I want us to go on a first date again.”

“Hm?”

“Like… I want us to go out like it’s the first time all over again. And feel that excitement and giddiness we had back then. We don’t have to, it’s just a thought. I don’t know. Maybe it’d be a good thing after this semester.”

Silence overtakes the room. San���s breathing is so steady that you think he’s fallen asleep, but the second you try to shift and see his face, he tilts his head up and looks into your eyes.

“Alright. Let’s go on a first date again.”

…

“I figured we’d go to that little Thai place by the grocery before heading over to the Christmas light show?”

“Oh!” Your thoughts rearrange themselves around his words. “That sounds really nice, yeah.”

“The guys wanna meet up at Wooyoung’s after for chicken and beer, but I told them I’d leave the decision up to you.” He tilts his chin a bit to the side as he speaks, lips quirked up at the corners, and you find yourself so incredibly fond of him all over again.

“Let’s see how we feel after walking around.”

You offer to drive tonight, but he denies you quickly, whining about how he filled his tank full of gas just for tonight so you don’t push the matter any further than that (though, you still tease him a bit once he opens the passenger door for you). When he turns the car on, music starts blasting through the speakers, a song you recognize well, and the dash shows that he’s been listening to the playlist you made for him at the start of the last school year. 

“Sorry, forgot the volume was up so high.” He scrambles to twist the dial down, but you stop him with your hand, gripping his wrist lightly and giving a firm shake of your head.

“I didn’t realize you still listened to it. Normally you just have the radio going.”

“Ah, well,” San’s cheeks are a bit flush under the low lights of the car, “I suppose I’ve been feeling a bit sentimental these days.” His next move is a bit hesitant; he reaches across the console and lays his hand atop your thigh. You reassure him by putting your hand over his, fingers curling around his once again. It feels normal and familiar, though you can’t count on two hands the last time you’ve done something as menial as holding hands with San. 

“San?” He makes a noise of acknowledgment while watching the road. “I’ve missed you.” His nails dig into your flesh a little, and the pressure makes your heart clench in your chest.

“I’ve missed you more.” You can only see his side profile, but it’s enough for you to catch the upturn of his lips. 

“I’ve missed you most then.” The statement slips out through a pout. 

“And I love you more than the moon loves the ocean.”

The weight of his hand is comfort enough for you to be at ease for the rest of the drive.

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