#can't remember last time I was smiling so hard

[knightjpg]

Brick by Brick: chapter 1

And like a dog who's learned a new trick Simon rings your bell the next day. Wasn't happy with how he left it, and wasn't that faucet leaking? He's got plenty of spare wood in his shed, don't you worry. What's that about the boiler making a weird noise? He'll take a look at it, might have something for the draft in the hallway too. Pay him? What are you talking about, he does stuff like this for fun. Don't sweat it, love. Just hand him that wrench.

tags: construction worker simon/neighbour reader

Summer is the worst time of year for construction work outside. Up early before the birds are awake to try and beat the heat, arriving on site at six or earlier with bleary eyes and creaky joints from the day before. It means coming home at four or five with lots of day left to get through yet without the will or energy to do anything beside shower, eat, watch some telly, and sleep. 

The pay is good and it beats sitting in a cramped office all day, but when Simon gets home with aching knees and the thrum of a headache at the back of his skull it's hard to remember why on Earth he chose the career he's in. He's drenched in sweat, large dark patches adorning his pits and back. 

It's one of those days where very little can make him stray from his commute straight to home to collapse into his big falling-apart chair, but today it's not really up to him. A large moving truck blocks his driveway. The faded company logo against dirty white overtakes the entire view of his windshield, though Simon can see the back doors are still swung open. No one to attend to it, though. 

Simon noticed the FOR SALE! sign had gone, of course. Remembers feeling vaguely pleased, even, that the home next to his wouldn't be empty anymore, because he of all people knows exactly how quickly places can fall apart without anyone tending to it. But right now all he feels is tired, and hot, and really fucking annoyed. Just when he's clicked his belt loose to get out of the car and see if the dolt belonging to the truck is anywhere to be found, voices carry from the open front door. 

“...last. I'm afraid it's a little heavy, though, so maybe we should get the boxes out first?” 

And out steps the sweetest little thing he's ever seen. Hair tied up, tight little top, and shorts that give him ample view of your legs.  

Maybe summer's not so bad after all. 

You're talking to a bloke wearing a uniform that matches the moving truck and who looks flushed in the face from exertion. As soon as you clock Simon's car, though, you stop mid-sentence in surprise, and then quickly walk to him, brows furrowed apologetically. 

“Oh, I'm so sorry—you're trying to get past us, aren't you?” Simon gives you a nod, and you turn back to the mover. “Would you mind moving the truck up a little? I don't want it to be in the way.” 

There's precious little parking space ahead, so Simon rolls down his window and calls out to you, “Jus’ backing up a few yards s’fine.” He gestures to his driveway so you know that's where he's headed, and you flash him a smile and a thumbs-up in understanding. 

The truck is moved, Simon parks his car, and you pull another heavy-looking box from the cube. You never reach your new doorstep with it; Simon steps in and lifts it from your hands. You blink up at him, lashes fluttering sweetly with surprise. “Oh—are you sure? It's heavy...!” 

One corner of Simon's mouth tugs up. Tired as he is it weighs next to nothing, and he can't resist holding it with one arm, holding out the other. 

“Can take ‘nother if you need.” 

You laugh and assure him this is quite enough, then jog back to the truck while Simon pushes past the half-open door to his new neighbour's home. 

It's a mess, of course. Piles of boxes, scattered furniture, rolled-up carpets. Simon puts the box down in the living room, then saunters back outside to lift another from your hands. He does the same with the couch; the mover is struggling and Simon doesn't trust him not to let it fall and crash. And you're such a little thing. Just doesn't feel right, watching you rush around and struggle without stepping in. 

With Simon's help it's quick work. The mover thanks Simon before driving off, but he's not really listening. There's much more important things to pay attention to. 

You're pretty. Cheeks flushed from exertion, breathing hard, flyaway hairs from your ponytail sticking up in odd directions. Simon has to suppress the urge to smooth them away. 

"Thanks so much for the help,” you tell him earnestly. “I'm sorry we were in the way—we thought we'd have a little more time before people started coming home from work.” 

“S’alright,” Simon says. It's nearing evening, now, the sky above you glowing in pale pink and oranges hues. The little smatter of trees across from you rustles with a gust of summer wind.  

You introduce yourself and insist on giving Simon your number “in case there's ever anything you need.” Simon's more concerned about a young woman living all on her own but takes your number all the same, watching your pretty little fingers tap it in on his phone. 

“I mostly work from home, but I'm very quiet and boring,” you tell him with a smile. “You don't have to worry about noise.” 

For some reason that isn't the selling point it should be. When Simon stands inside his hallway, house empty and dark and quiet, he wishes he still lived in a shitty apartment with thin walls on the bad side of Manchester. Maybe then he'd hear your footsteps, or better yet, your voice. Instead the only thing waiting for him at home is silence. Heavy and thick, where he's ripped away from sweet sunshine and plunged underwater. 

-

Simon is halfway to falling asleep on the couch when the bell rings. He groans, drags a hand over his face, and glances up at the TV. The football match is still going. The camera pans over a cheering crowd, their cries distant and quiet. 

He mutes the thing entirely and heaves himself up to open the door. Swear to God, if this is the fucking salesman again... 

“Hi there.” 

You give Simon a little finger wave, your other hand cradling a round oven dish. When you shift on your feet the protective foil on top rustles noisily. 

You look a little more put together than you did yesterday—rested, showered, fed. Just as pretty. 

Although, speaking of fed... 

“Alright?” Simon asks, eyes on the oven pan. He's only catching a faint whiff of something, but whatever it is smells really fucking good. His stomach reminds him that the only thing in his fridge are a couple cans of beer.  

You nod and lift the dish with a shy little grin. “Yeah. Um. I wanted to say thanks again, for yesterday. And I wanted to test out my oven, so...” 

You hold the dish out for him to take. Simon's fingers brush yours, large meaty paws easily twice the size of your own. When he peels back the foil you add, “Shepherd's pie. I thought about cookies, but I wasn't sure if you'd like those.” 

The scent hits him, then, rich and hearty and buttery smooth. The dish is still a little warm. 

Fuck. When was the last time he ate something homemade? 

“No, I'll eat anything,” he says, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. He hasn't showered yet. Must look a nightmare. Does he stink? “Thanks.” 

Your whole face lights up, and Simon's neck feels hot. He averts his eyes to avoid your gaze and pretends to inspect the pie instead. Jesus, what is he, twelve? “I'm glad. I'll leave you to it, then.” 

D’you want to come in for a drink?  

It's on the tip of his tongue, but he can't get the words out quite right and gives you a brusque nod, watching you walk back to your own home before closing his door all the way. 

He eats at his kitchen table and finishes the whole thing in one go. Chases bits of flakey crust with his finger, licks up every leftover crumb. The meat is tender and juicy and for a while after the only things he smells is golden-brown potatoes seasoned with rosemary. 

He mourns it when it's gone, of course. Has half a mind to go over right now and ask if your cooking is for hire—Simon can't remember the last time he felt satisfied. When he ate not just for the sake of fuel or convenience but because someone wanted him to have something nice, something special. Is it special? Is he special? Are you going around the neighbourhood handing out cookies and pies to just anyone? 

Simon's sigh is loud in the silence and sticks to the kitchen walls. 

The pre-made frozen meals are fine, of course. Empty plastic containers fill up the rubbish bin. They're easy and cheap and most days Simon's glad just to have something warm in his stomach.  

And yet. 

The next day Simon stands at your door at six in the evening sharp, holding the clean dish in his hands. You invite him in for a cup of tea, because unlike him you have good manners, and you sheepishly apologise for the stacks of boxes everywhere. 

“S’alright,” Simon says, carefully manoeuvring around a large pile of books. “I don't mind.” 

And he doesn't, though he does feel like a bull in a china shop. Large and much too coarse for the little tea cup you hand him while the kettle whistles on the stove. 

“I'm afraid I don't have much to go with it,” you say with a flutter of your hands. “Do you like ginger snaps? I think I've got a pack somewhere.” 

You don't wait for his answer and pry open one of the cupboards. First come the ginger snaps, then the box of Earl Grey, which you hold up to him with a triumphant smile. “Unpacked the important stuff first.” 

Simon frowns and jerks his chin to the cupboard. “S’it stuck?” 

“Oh—yeah. They all are.” You give the wood a little knock. “It'll take me some time to get to fixing everything. The house went for a good price, but only ‘cause it needs some love.” You give him a rueful smile and get up, wiping your hands on your thighs. “I'm not all that handy, so I'll have to take it bit by bit.” 

Simon rises before you finish your sentence. "Let me see.” 

“Oh, no, it's okay. It's not a big deal, really—” 

Simon crouches down, slowly, to spare his knees, and tests the hinges. The wood is rotten in certain places, the hinges old and rusted. Rather than fixing it up it should be replaced entirely. You really better had gotten this place for good money, because this will take more than a bit of elbow grease to repair. He prods at the hinges, tuts, and looks up at you. 

“Ready to fall apart, this one. You said they're all like this?” 

You nod, worry creasing your brow. “I—yes. Well, the kitchen is. The bathroom seems alright. Is it worse than I thought?” 

“Might be. You have anyone look at this?” 

You shake your head. “I'm starting to feel silly about it now, but I was going to look up how to do it myself.” 

Simon straightens. “I'll go get my kit.” 

-

It's not as bad as he feared. Two cabinets need tearing down completely, but the others are worth saving. Simon warns you the repair job will fuck the wood, but you tell him it's no problem; you'll paint over it anyway. 

You feed him tea and ginger snaps while he works, asking him several times if he wouldn't like a break, hasn't he done a lot already? You feel terrible about having him work on his day off. Didn't he say he worked construction? He must be so tired, poor man. You insist he stay for dinner. “You've been so helpful—it's the least I could do.” 

Simon takes a breather to watch you cook. Chicken, pasta, summer salad. The sun sinks lower and hits you straight on from the kitchen window, painting the edges of you a dazed red-gold. An angel's halo. 

“You big on reading, then?” 

You turn down the heat and put a lid over the pan to join him at the table. Simon's eyeing the many books strewn about on top of boxes that say “pans” and “kitchen supplies”. Le Morte D’Arthur. Histories of the Kings of Britain. Beowulf. There's even one that prompts a vague, long-forgotten memory from his school days— The Canterbury Tales.  

“I am. Always have been.” You nod to the books. “I teach at university—medieval literature. But I'm working on my own research on the side.” 

Simon lets out a low whistle. His pretty bird is a clever one. Smarter than him, that's for sure. He might be big and strong but he's got bricks for brains. 

That's what his dad always used to say, anyway—that he's stupid. Those always were his kinder moments. 

“That explains all the books y’got.” 

“There sure are a lot of them, aren't there? I swear moving really makes you realise just how much stuff you own...” You shake your head. “I'll have to get a bigger bookcase.” 

“Think it's impressive.” 

Your eyes crinkle with a smile. “Not as impressive as knowing how to fix my cabinets! I don't know how I would've managed by myself.” You hop up from your seat to check the food, then ask over your shoulder, “Is that something you do a lot for work, too? Carpentry and the like?” 

Simon shakes his head. “We do the heavy lifting. Clearing a place out, laying the foundation. Johnny—my coworker, he's mostly on machinery. Kyle does transport and plumbing. I do the heavier handiwork.” 

You hum and start plating the food while asking him more questions. Is the pay good? Is his boss fair? Are his coworkers nice? 

Price's fairly strict is what he is, Simon answers, and you laugh again. He likes that. Likes that he gets you to do that. 

He wolfs down a plate of his pasta and devours the chicken. It's fragrant, roasted with lemon and thyme, bursts between his teeth. He tells you more about Johnny, that he's a cocky bastard who likes playing with electricity way too much, but that he's also a loyal friend. That he's a hard worker—that all of them are. 

When his plate is empty and he's eyeing what's left in the pans you push them closer without saying anything, and prompt him to tell you about that time a plumbing line exploded and Kyle got soaked from tip to toe in disgusting gunk. He smelt like sewage water for weeks. 

Simon doesn't even realise how much he's talked until his throat starts feeling rougher than usual. You make it easy somehow. If he'd thought you would look down on him because of your own job he needn't have worried. You're not at all like what he imagines when he thinks of professors, none of the stuffy superiority complex he's used to weathering when people find out all he does all day is chafe his fingers on hard cement.  

Maybe you're just good at faking it, but he doubts it. The sparkle in your eyes when you listen to him so intently has to be real. 

You send him home with a warm thanks and dessert, and Simon feels something in his chest lurch when you peer up at him through your lashes in the doorway, smiling and sweet. Can't remember the last time he went out for dates. Can't remember having the time or energy for it. 

And like a dog who's learned a new trick Simon rings your bell the next day. Wasn't happy with how he left it, and wasn't that faucet leaking? He's got plenty of spare wood in his shed, don't you worry. What's that about the boiler making a weird noise? He'll take a look at it, might have something for the draft in the hallway too. 

Pay him? What are you talking about, he does stuff like this for fun. Don't sweat it, love. Just hand him that wrench. 

There are days when it's hard, of course. Simon is only human, and spending days and days on sizzling hard concrete would wring anyone dry. The project is coming along nicely, but at the height of summer there's plenty of times when even the promise of your smile isn't enough to keep him from falling asleep on his couch—often on an empty stomach. 

But during the weekends he rings your bell dutifully. Six o’clock becomes something sacred in his mind, sweet relief after praying on his knees for hours smoothing out cement. It gets to the point where he turns down Friday drinks with the guys more than once because he's got something to go home for now, his pretty little bird that's never once mentioned a boyfriend of any kind. 

“You really should let me pay you.” 

Simon gives you a look before pushing his large shoulders further into the cabinet under the bathroom sink. “Should be the one payin’ you. I know I'm doubling your grocery bill.” 

He eats more at your place than his own these days. It gives him incentive to rush through a shower, dress like something resembling a human, then wait at your doorstep to be let in. Wagging tail and everything. 

Your cheeks darken and you duck your head. “No, um... It makes me happy. To see you eat my cooking, I mean,” you confess a little shyly. “I feel like I'm the one getting everything out of this. I hope I'm not keeping you from—from spending time at home, or with your family.” 

“S’just me, love.” Simon pauses, pretends to inspect the pipes. “Less you don't want me coming ‘round anymore.” 

“No, no,” you say hastily. “No, I like—I like the company. Really.” Your voice softens. “And I'm not just saying that because I appreciate the help.” 

Simon exhales, shifts a little to accommodate the strain in his boxers, and holds his hand out for the screwdriver. 

[rafeandonlyrafe]

eventually

words: 700

warnings: established relationship, college student!reader, long distance relationship, cheating, not a happy ending, wheezie is a queen as per usual, mentions/implications of hooking up but the fic is pretty sfw

“it'll be… it'll be really hard and i understand if you want to break up.” just the words coming out of your mouth breaks your heart.

“is that what you want?”

“what?” you shake your head quickly, moving to sit even closer and taking rafes hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “i love you. i don't want us to ever break up, but im going to college three hours away.”

“we will just have to go long distance.” rafe raises your joined hands and kisses the back of your hand to your fingers. “im not giving up on the only good thing in my life.”

“oh, rafe.” you pout, launching yourself forward into a tight embrace.

--six months later--

you smile at the email approving you to take your exam early. it's the last one you need and considering you already have a 4.0 in the glass, you don't see it dropping just because you get less time to study.

you quickly close outlook and open up your text messages. as much as you want to tell rafe that you'll be coming home two weeks early, you also really want to surprise him.

hey wheezie girl!! I need your help…

--

“where is he?” you whisper as wheezie let's you into the house.

“in his room.” wheezie also keeps her voice low. “he might be asleep though so i don't know if you want to wait.”

“no.” you shake your head quickly. you just got home and the first thing you did was drive to tanneyhill, you're not sure if you can wait even a minute longer. “i got it from here, thanks girl.” you give wheezie a big hug. “i missed you too, ya know.”

wheezie hugs you back before letting you tiptoe up the stairs, keeping your steps as light as to not wake rafe.

you take a deep breath when you see his door, excitement filling in you knowing he's just on the other side.

you grip the brass handle and turn it slowly, attempting to keep the door from creaking as you step into the dark room.

your eyes take a second to adjust to the darkness, the morning light blocked out by the heavy curtains. you recognize a figure in bed and take a few steps closer, but with every movement, your heart drops further.

the sob rips from your chest before you even realize you're crying, waking rafe instantly.

“baby?” he sits up quickly, his voice frantic. “what are you doing here?”

“baby?!” you squeal. “you don't get to call me baby when there's a girl in your fucking bed!”

the clearly naked girl, gripping the blanket to her chest is now awake and staring at the both of you in confusion, probably some touron who had no clue what she was getting involved with.

“p-please.” rafe stutters, standing quickly. “it doesn't mean anything, i don't even remember her name i just needed to-”

you hold your hand up. “i don't want to hear it. i can't believe you… this is over. we are over.”

you walk quickly out of the room and stumble down the stairs, feeling like the house is suffocating you.

you don't even realize that you bump directly into ward, practically crashing into him and forcing him back into rose.

“y/n, what's wrong?” ward asks just as rose asks you when you got home, the whole family knowing when to expect you.

“what's wrong is your son is a cheater.” you give rafe a glare as he stands at the top of his stairs in only his underwear.

“rafe-” ward growls out. he knows how good you are for his son, he's seen the shift in his behavior since you left.

“baby, i still love you, she means nothing to me! it was just casual-”

you leave the house as his pleas continue, not wanting to hear another word of his bullshit arguments, knowing two years has now gone down the drain.

“im sorry.” you look up to see wheezie standing by your car. “i didn't know for sure but… but i guessed. i know you needed to see it with your own eyes. he went to a party last night and-”

“oh, wheeze.” you quickly give her a hug. “it's okay. ill be okay.”

“you will?”

you don't know the answer to that question, not for certain as you look back at the house, rafe stood in the doorway but not following you as ward lectures him.

“not any time soon.” you admit honestly. “but i will be. eventually.”

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ethanthequeefqueen @ladyinbl00d @drewsephrry

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Heyyy idk if you've done this before but Maid x prince ( or any other monarch) but it's kinda smutty and angsty because they can't be together ❤️

She knew there was one thing he loathed more than dancing: social gatherings.

He bored himself to death when he had to talk to other people. When he had to pretend to be interested in others, when he had to smile and laugh all evening. He wasn't a very talkative person and he was certainly not a social one.

She knew that he could come across as harsh or cold but she was also aware of his many interests. And how passionate he could be about them.

However, she had not expected him to return this early.

She looked up from the bed she was making, fearing the worst. Although he didn't like it, these social gatherings were incredibly important to secure their country's alliances.

Admittedly, she was interested in politics and power. But she also knew her place.

"Are you alright, my lo-" She swallowed the my lord. He had asked her not to call him that quite a while ago. But old habits were hard to kill for her. "Are you alright?"

The prince looked at her, exhaustion painted all over his face.

"...no," he admitted. He was always someone who buried his true feelings and replaced them with indifference. Today, he seemed frustrated enough to start crying.

The maid's heart clenched in her chest.

"If there is anything I can do for you-" She walked up to him and took his hands.

She knew what they had been doing for the last weeks wasn't right. She knew they weren't supposed to do the things they did, but...she couldn't help it. She loved him. And she didn't want this man to fall apart.

They had spent their entire childhoods together and for some reason, he only smiled when he was with her.

The maid couldn't watch her prince, her friend turn into someone callous. He was too important to her for that.

"I'm tired," he said. He gave her hands a little squeeze and kissed her temple before he was heading for the bed. "I wish you could join me next time. You make these things bearable."

"I think it would be quite strange to let your maid join you," she said. She watched carefully as he took off his clothes.

"I wish it wasn't," he said. "I can't help it, I am not good at it. Whenever I see so many people in one room, the world starts to spin. I loathe it. I loathe what they are talking about. Do they seriously think I care for their dog? Or their third cousin? Do they think I actually enjoy their presence?"

Good heavens, he was almost naked.

He slowly crawled under the blankets but he kept talking.

"What about literature? What about warfare? Are these people not interested in anything?" He groaned. "My head started to hurt as soon as I had to dance. Horrible. I left as soon as I could."

He was laying down, head buried in a pillow. His entire back was exposed. The maid could see a few scars she recognized. One time, he had fallen from his horse. Another, he had survived an assassination attempt. There were other scars she didn't recognize.

She wished she could name every single one. She wished she could know him so thoroughly that she wouldn't have to read his lips to know what he desired.

The maid walked up to him and kneeled beside the bed. Her hand went through his hair a couple of times before she sat down on the edge of the bed.

"It may seem irrelevant to you but appearing to be interested in someone's family or dog can be quite helpful. It's even better if you remember those details. You need to know your allies. You need to maintain good relations." Her gaze stayed on a new scar. Absentmindedly, she let her fingertips follow it.

He shivered.

"Forgive me," she whispered. But all he did was turn around and take her hands into his again.

"Sometimes I imagine what it would be like if our roles were reversed. If you were a princess and I was your knight..." He kissed her knuckles and her heart started to pound. Witnessing his softness was a privilege exclusively reserved for her. Sometimes, he really made her feel like a princess. "You understand all of this so well."

"The court was a good teacher, I suppose," she said. "Books can only get you so far."

That made him smile.

"Are you doubting your prince's way of education?"

"Well, he is misanthropic. So something must have gone wrong," she said. She seized the opportunity to get on top of him and focus on some other scars on his chest. Somehow, she ended up with her palm pressed against his chest right where his heart was.

"Still beating?" he asked. The joke didn't really come across though. She had stopped counting the many instances where she had had to tend to his wounds.

"Still beating," she said. His eyes didn't leave her.

"I don't think I will ever get married unless you are my bride," he said softly.

Instead of answering, she leaned in and kissed him. Deep down, she knew he couldn't afford that. In his world, the court and politics had no real meaning. But she knew it dictated all their lives, especially his future marriage. He was a quiet dreamer.

But some couldn't even dare to dream.

So, she kissed him softly. Kissed him until she could swallow her own tears and forget about all her worries.

[kimingyuslover]

Screen time

Synopsis : Soonyoung can only see you on his screen now.

Word count : 904

Pairing : Kwon soonyoung x reader

Genre : angst, lovers to exes

Warnings & note : TEARS, soonyoung's an ass, members mentioned, mention of alcohol, one (1) curse word, a few paragraphs are the literal lyrics lol, this fic does not represent his character in real life!

a.n : reading through the screen time lyrics translation today, WHY IS IT SO SAD???? anw sorry for my bad grammar

“Come on soonyoung, it's been what? 2 hours and you still checking your phone” Jun said while patting soonyoung's back lightly.

It's been a year since they broke up, and soonyoung still can't let you go. The worst of it? He's the cause of the downfall of your relationship.

Soonyoung failed to realise that he's an ass throughout your 3 years relationship, and when he did, you cuss him out and start to pack your belongings.

“I still love her, jun. it hurts" Soonyoung held his left chest, feeling the pain from his heart, tears welling in his eyes waiting to fall every now and then.

Jun gives him a sympathetic look, soonyoung’s other 11 friends are also worried about him, he refused to do anything except checking his phone as minutes pass, and they are aware of the reason.

It’s you.

When they heard about your break up, they didn't dare to do anything because deep down they know, this is the best for you, even though soonyoung have to be a miserable man.

they've seen the way he treated you back then, seungcheol remembers, the way soonyoung don't want to come to your third dinner even when he say he would come, and he easily lied to you that he exhausted so he sleep early last night even in reality he go to a club with them.

They tried, and they really tried to talk to soonyoung about his relationship. You always have to message them to know about soonyoung's condition.

They saw your disappointed expression when you have to pick up soonyoung the night you're supposed to have an anniversary dinner.

And they know you're done taking soonyoung's shit when you have to pick him up, again, and with the same expression as the night of your anniversary.

So when soonyoung said you both broke up, they're not surprised at all. The least they can say is that soonyoung doesn't deserve you, and he never will.

The night of your break up, soonyoung seems fine, and he always said that to everyone, but as days passed, he seemed to worsen more

His eye bags are prominent, and everyone can point out that he's not sleeping for at least 2 days.

Meanwhile, they can see you grow happier, away from soonyoung. Joshua, along with Wonwoo, are in the same department as you, and he can see the way you would always smile genuinely now. Before your break up, your smile always seemed to be forced.

After 1 month, soonyoung always stared at his phone, hoping that you would update anything, anything to your social media. You blocked him as soon as your relationship ended.

Then, you did, you’re always updating your life through social media, and he can clearly see you look so happy without him. He learned that it was, in fact, true because when he sees your old post, you don't seem to be happier than now.

Soonyoung cried everynight, wanting no more than to have your relationship back, to have your attention back to him.

He missed waking up to your eyes, and now he has to see them on his screen, both of his hands are occupied holding onto your relationship, and he keeps forgetting there is no relationship until the night returns and he gives himself up to slumber.

It's hard to let go of your relationship.

You're living as if nothing happened between both of you, you're colder than he thought, he feels naked and his heart is cold without you.

his worries were in vain, you're doing just fine without him, from your words to your happy photographs, he actually relieved, you're getting better.

Because he knows you're not going to get better if you're still with him.

He always wants to contact you, asking you how have you been? How are things? Is work going well? Are you taking care of yourself? Do you have any regrets?

He can't stop checking up on you. He worries about you everyday and night.

Your smile once an arrow that guided him, now it pierces his heart, he used to hate the attention you gave him, now he misses the attention that you gave.

He knew his regret was meaningless, he's sorry for the time you spent with him.

The days fade into the distant horizon, and your memories rise and fall. It's late, but he's sorry.

In the end, you're both going through different separations.

He wants to ask you another question, are you broken like him? He wants to know what you're eating and drinking these days and what you find happiness in.

He always wonders, what are you wearing today? who makes you laugh, who holds your hands, where you are headed.

He's just curious. This is how he has been, miserable.

“Tell the others we're going to the club, they can join us, i think i need more drinks” Soonyoung said as he got up from the couch and took his jacket, wallet, and lastly his phone.

Not even a minute later, his phone let out a sound of a notification he just set for you, he quickly checked his phone and opened his social media.

It was a photo of you, but you're not alone. There's a man hugging you close.

his eyes finding your caption in a fast motion, his heart breaks, yet again.

my boyfriend is getting more clingy lately

[vvanillavveins]

On the WTNV finale:

Look, i like Brinknor. They helped me fall back in love with Night Vale when i was feeling particularly uninspired. It's hard to put it into words; i have adhd & i struggle to remember big intricate plots unless something reoccurring has really grabbed hold of my attention, and before Brinknor, i was struggling to sink my teeth into anything attention-holding, so to speak. I guess i was becoming less enthusiastic in Night Vale's storyline as time went on, even though i couldn't really work out why. I just couldn't stop tuning out. But, with Brinknor, there came a bunch of shiny new plotpoints- at a faster pace. The show could actually hold my focus properly, and my wtnv fixation was suddenly up & running again.

All this is to say that i know it's just my impatience talking when i say that i wish that the loose ends of those new, interesting plotpoints had been tied up a little more by episode 250. I adore the way they write about Cecil's childhood and his family, and i want Kevin & The Boy's arc to be given the same amount of love, and attention, and time that the Palmer siblings' arc got. The same goes for Tamika. And Carlos. And Lauren, actually. Yes, i know she was a central figure in the last 2 episodes, and i loved that because she's one of my favourite characters. I fucking adore eldritch Mother Lauren. But still, it was all too vague to really learn anything new about her or the desert otherworld. And, above all else, i can't help but think of how wonderful it would've been if Charles and Donovan were included in the finale- especially Donovan.

When Kevin first came back in 2023, one of my silly little hcs as to why he was apparently in the Smiling God's bad books (and why he didn't mention Charles or Donovan) was that because Charles & Donovan aren't from Desert Bluffs they haven't devoted themselves to the Smiling God like the rest of the townsfolk. They wouldn't "smile" properly. One of my darker ideas at the time was the possibility of Kevin having to choose between making them part of his faith, i.e., making them "smile" like the rest of Desert Bluffs (which i doubt he'd go through with after his mudstone abyss arc), or having Charles & Donovan leave town (which i doubt they'd go through with), or, doing neither & keeping quiet about his life with them to avoid drawing attention. If he chose the latter and then got found out, it would make sense that he'd stop being the Smiling God's favourite. Obviously, i never thought any of that was correct- i was just having fun- and i was excited to find out the real story further down the line.

But that didn't happen, and we still don't really have many answers. Everything to do with Kevin, and Lauren, and The Boy got wrapped up in about 10 minutes flat. We've already had an emotional Fatherhood themed episode with Cecil & Abby; we didn't need another one just for the sake of it.

With the context of what we already know about Kevin's father, the ending of episode 250 was just uncomfortable. Sure, Kevin's talked about his father positively before, but that's always been in contrast with the actual content of his memories. It's always been made clear that the script/the writers disagree with Kevin's sunny outlook, and therefore the listeners should too. Those moments are there to demonstrate just how fucked up Kevin really is, and that his positivity is just a coping mechanism. But this time Cecil spoke for him, so we didn't get Kevin's usual sing-song rambling. It was calm, and collected, and matter-of-factly. And this time there were no sugar-coated descriptions of abuse, only genuine praise. We were actually supposed to agree with him this time, and it made the whole speech (and ending) sound hollow and forced.

I really didn't like this episode. It felt rushed. It tried to cover far too much far too quickly, and it failed. But, despite all that, i am hoping that future episodes will bring some sort of clarity about what happened. And hopefully some closure about Kevin and his family, too. I want loose ends to get tied up properly and i believe that maybe, with time, the important ones will be. Slow burning subplots are kinda quintessential to Night Vale's writing at this point anyway. Brinknor definitely missed the mark with this one, but they're still incredibly talented writers and i'm not ready to give up on them like some of the other fans on here.

Besides, i think that some of Night Vale's worst episodes are still incredible pieces of writing in their own right. The bad episodes are only bad in comparison to the dozens upon dozens of absolutely phenomenal episodes that make up the rest of a show that is, for the most part, a joy to listen to. So, here's to some hopefully better episodes in the future, i guess.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

10:49pm | Kim Seungmin

-> Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Idol!Reader (You)

-> Request: from anon. Sorry it took so long.

-> Warnings: None. No use of pronouns. This one gave me a really hard time, I'm not sure if I'm happy with it or not. I hope it's okay.

-> Word Count: 439

-> Requests: Open until 31st June.

Seungmin Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy, modify and/or repost anywhere.

As your eyes scan the crowd, you notice a handful of your group's fans. A smile spreads across your face as you wave and form hearts with your hands to acknowledge their love and support. Slowly moving across the stage, you find yourself lingering a bit longer, captivated by the energy of the crowd. Always the last one to leave the stage due to your tendency to get easily distracted, you end up a few feet behind your members. 

You're about to catch up with them when you hear your name being called from the opposite direction. Turning your head you find Changbin, Felix and Seungmin waving towards you. Remembering you're still in the public eye, you point towards backstage, letting them know you'll meet them back there. Felix throws you a thumbs up, just as the oldest of your group comes and drags you back towards the others. 

Backstage, your group gathers in a tight circle, embracing each other with excitement. It was yet another successful performance for your group, with everything going smoothly. The adrenaline is still coursing through your veins as you all congratulate each other on a job well done. 

Your little celebration is interrupted when the members of Stray Kids approach you, offering their own congratulations. You exchange hugs and high-fives, feeling grateful for their support, them being you seniors.   

After a few minutes of catching up, you decide you needed to unwind before you got too overwhelmed. You excuse yourself, telling your members you were heading back to your designated trailer.  

As you make your way back to your trailer, Seungmin walks with you, his warm presence providing a sense of comfort. The two of you have always been close since you meet when you were both trainees. You remained close even after he debuted two years before your group did. 

Once inside the trailer, you sink into the plush couch, letting out a sigh of relief. Seungmin sits beside you, offering a smile. You really love his smile and can't help but smile back. 

“You did amazing tonight,” he compliments you. “I think it was the best performance of the night.” 

"I highly doubt that," you playfully scoff. "You guys were phenomenal, like always." 

Seungmin shakes his head, his eyes full of sincerity. "Your stage presence, your vocals, everything was on point. You were incredible."  

You feel a warm glow of pride at his words, grateful for his unwavering support. Resting your head on his shoulder, you take his hand in yours, "Thank you, Seungmin. I really do appreciate you.” 

“I appreciate you too,” he says kissing the top of your head.” 

TAGGING:

@staytiny2000 - @kpopmenace143 - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups

@tinyelfperson - @laylasbunbunny - @skz1-4-3 - @pinkies-things - @oddracha

@kayleefriedchicken - @everythingboutkpop - @beefcakebarnes -

[heygerald]

Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 7

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. When Parker starts to let go of her initial assumptions about a man that makes a lasting impression, she starts to see that there's more to him than meets the eye. Yet, she can't help but wonder, why does he insist on acting like an asshole?

Read the story here: prev / ...

Parker was dying.

Had to be, anyway, because her organs felt something like slushy-mud water inside her chest, and there was something pounding against her skull that made it hard to think. She couldn't remember the last time she felt like this—her own birthday, maybe—and though she didn't put a lot of emphasis on her own personal health, she was certain that this time she was dying.

Really, really dying.

"I fucking hate Colt," she muttered, cheek pressed against the cool kitchen counter as an antacid tablet dissolved in her cup of water with a looming zzz. It almost hurt to watch, and when half the tablet broke into a chunk to send a torrent of bubbles up to the surface, Parker grimaced. "...blonde bastard."

Her sentiments went unheard in the empty kitchen.

It was still early, and her body ached to return to the couch. It wasn't comfortable by any means, worn in all the wrong places with scratches lining the surface, but it was horizontal, and it didn't involve sorting through books while greeting customers. If she hadn't been so adamant about setting three alarms the night before, Parker surely would have left the bookstore locked up all day.

But, as it was, she needed money, and a Saturday was too good a day to be an irresponsible property owner. So, here she was, crying on the kitchen counter watching her antacid dissolve in hopes that it would miraculously cure a hangover.

She grimaced at the sticky dryness of her mouth.

In hindsight, that last beer probably hadn't been the best idea.

And, in further, more truthful hindsight, neither had been the beer she drank after that one in the parking lot while waiting for their Uber. It had been Dan's challenge to do it under thirty seconds, prompted further by Colt's off-key acapella rendition of We Are The Champions, and though Parker wasn't good at many things, shotgunning a beer was something she was good at.

Who was she to waste a talent?

Her stomach turned at the thought, and she was in the middle of contemplating puking all over Colt's kitchen, when footsteps approached her from behind.

"Well, you look peaky."

Parker groaned low and deep while pressing her face further against the kitchen counter. Jodi offered an amused smile before moving towards the fridge. Despite yesterday, she looked good. Bouncy skin, tousled blonde hair, Colt's t-shirt that didn't so much hang as it laid against her thin legs. Oh, and the happy features of someone that were clearly not suffering from a hangover.

Bastards, Parker thought glumly, the both of them.

"Want some?" Jodi asked, jug of orange juice in hand. She had the benevolence to at least look tired. Though, not nearly enough in Parker's opinion.

"D'rather have a lobotomy," Parker muttered.

Jodi somehow managed a smile and a wince at the same time. "You did drink a lot," she said. The idea of drinking anything had Parker paling, and Jodi quickly moved past it to add, "but it was really fun. I think everyone enjoyed it."

She wasn't particularly in the mood for conversation, but Parker supposed the more she talked, the less she had to think about making herself presentable for work, which meant the less she thought about work itself, so she did her best to tamper down her headache with a slow sip of her water.

"S'definitely better than last year's," she said. There was sunlight streaming through the kitchen blinds, and while Jodi didn't hesitate to pull them up, she responded by pulling her sweatshirt hood further down over her eyes. Another inhuman noise, before, "thanks for helping plan it."

Jodi beamed at the gratitude.

Though, Parker noticed with a growing self-hatred, the Englishwoman seemed to do that naturally. "I'm just glad that I could pitch in. It was a lot of fun. I've never played paintball before."

"Really? Coulda' fooled me. I think my welts have welts."

"Oh," Jodi said, hiding a giggle behind her glass of orange juice. "Sorry about that."

Parker got the feeling that Jodi wasn't very sorry at all. In fact, from the way Jodi and Colt had tore it up on the paintball field, Parker had a strong suspicion that the woman was just as competitive as the boys were.

Waving a hand at her, she said, "don't be sorry. You won, afterall."

"Oh, did we?" she chirped. "I barely noticed."

"Hmph."

"I didn't hit you too hard did I?" she asked, actually sounding curious as she leaned onto the counter.

There was a very large bruise on Parker's back side that would argue differently, but Parker instead shook her head. It sent the room spinning, however, and she just as quickly had to lay her head back onto the counter. "Had me a little scared out there, though. If anyone on set has ever given you shit before, you should just take a paintball gun with you to work."

Jodi laughed. "There are one or two," she said. From the look in her eye, it was obvious she could name them, but she didn't. Instead, her eyes darted to Parker.

"Ah," she said. "Well, you had your chance yesterday to shoot him too. I hope you took the opportunity."

At the joke, Jodi seemed to relax a bit. Her mouth tugged into a crooked smile as she popped some bread into the toaster. "I tried, but he was a little harder to get than I thought he would be..."

Her voice trailed off, and Parker arched a brow. "What?"

"Er, well, I guess I was a little surprised that you invited him. We all were, I think."

Unbidden guilt crashed down onto Parker's shoulders, and she caught her face in her hands. "I know, I know, I'm sorry... It was a last minute thing. He had stopped by the store and then we were just talking and, well, I don't know..."

Jodi's back was to Parker, but she peeked over her shoulder with curiously arched brows. "I didn't realize you were friends. Certainly not after that introduction on set."

Just the thought of that introduction had Parker grimacing. Worse still was the realization that somehow, somewhere in her mind, that Tom was in no way connected to the Tom she had brought alongside her last night. It was as if they were two totally different people, and the reminder that they were actually the same person had her stomach rolling.

Or, that could have been the hangover. Whatever.

Parker picked at a loose thread on her hoodie. "Was Colt upset?"

"That you brought Tom?"

"I didn't ruin the night, did I? I know that he can be a total prick, and that everyone else has bad feelings towards him from work, but... well, I guess I was hoping that everyone else enjoyed last night as much as I did. I mean, I know he's a prick, but he's at least okay to be around sometimes."

"Can you remember?" Jodi teased from beside the coffee maker. It beeped as she fiddled with it, before she was puling mugs out of the cabinet. Obviously, she had been here before.

"Does Colt hate me?"

Her smile was soft and graceful. "No, he doesn't hate you. I'm not sure he could, if I'm honest. He talks about you a lot, you know."

Parker didn't think that was necessarily a good thing, but she wasn't about to scold her brother for talking about her on dates. Not when he was actually going on them and she was at home marathoning trashy reality tv.

"And, as for last night," Jodi continued, "everyone did have a lot of fun. No nights were ruined."

"Not even...?"

"The Uber driver was actually quite nice about it," she said, skipping over the issue entirely. A good thing too considering the thought of last night made Parker woozy, and she certainly didn't want to relieve that car ride home. Or the two stops they had to make for her and Colt to throw up on the side of the road. "Honestly... I was pleasantly surprised."

Parker frowned. "By the Uber driver?"

"By Tom," she corrected with a laugh.

"Really?"

Jodi shrugged. "Granted, I don't know him nearly as well as Colt, and he was an awfully sore loser. I mean—really awful—you should have heard him after paintball."

"Oh, I did," Parker said. "I just blocked it out."

"And yet..."

Parker arched her brows.

Jodi smiled, then shrugged once more. "He wasn't nearly as bad as I thought he would be. Losing, I mean. He didn't threaten to fire anyone or sue anyone—"

"Speak for yourself," she muttered under her breath, cup of liquid antacid looking more unappealing by the second.

"And by the end of the night... well, I think he was actually getting along with some of the others. Not really well, mind you. He is still a prick."

Parker snorted. "I don't think anyone was doubting that."

"But a manageable one. It actually felt like he was hanging out with us, you know, rather than dictating on set."

Parker tried not to sound too hopeful as she tugged on her thread. "Yeah?"

Obviously, she failed, because when Jodi smiled there was something conniving to it. Something suspicious twinkling her eyes. Yet, the woman didn't dig in deeper. Just moved on. "He might not admit it, but I think Colt was more pleased than he let on when Colt said he was a great stuntman. I was too. Mind you, on our last film, Ryder asked Colt if he could get a jaw implant to look more like himself."

Parker made a face. "Yeah, I heard about that."

"I think this was the first time he ever complimented Colt. In, like, a decade of working together. Can you believe that?"

She could. The guy was a prick. But also, Parker didn't want to believe it—struggled to envision that as the same guy that had come to her bookstore twice now—and so she sipped her water so she didn't have to respond.

Jodi, however, noticed all of that. "Since when have you two been friends?"

"Friends? We're not—it's not—we just... know each other."

"Hm," Jodi hummed, clearly not buying it. "Yet you brought him to Colt's birthday party. And apparently you talk."

"I don't plan when he come to the store," she said defensively.

That surprised Jodi, and as she filled the mugs up with coffee, she said, "oh. When you said you were talking I didn't realize you meant in person. You literally dragged him to the birthday party, then."

"I wouldn't say I dragged him," Parker muttered as she accepted a mug. The coffee was low quality and definitely burnt from Colt's stupid machine, but just the smell of it had her feeling better. She cradled the steaming hot mug between her hands with a deep inhale. "What did you think I meant?"

"I thought you meant you were talking on the phone."

"Colt told you about that? It's so weird. I still have no idea how he got my phone number," she mused, chancing a sip. It burned her tongue immediately, but Parker didn't care. She was not a morning person, and didn't function this early unless she had three cups of coffee. Hangover or not. "The prick."

Jodi hedged from her cup of coffee, but didn't say anything.

Parker shrugged. If Jodi didn't want to rail on Tom Ryder being a prick, that was her decision. Moving on, she added, "anyways, I really did appreciate your help with the party, even if I ended up fudging the team numbers by lugging Tom along. You were a life saver with getting everyone's phone numbers."

Whatever Jodi had been thinking passed over, and she smiled. "Yeah, of course. Thanks for letting me help. I know... you know—Colt's your brother—I'm not trying to, er... step on anyone's toes."

It was funny to watch her get flustered, and Parker gave the woman an impish smile as she took another sip of her water. "Colt's a big boy, and he can do whatever he wants," she said. "Besides, I think you're great. Why would I have a problem with you wanting to help plan his party?"

"You think I'm great?" Jodi asked.

To that, Parker rolled her eyes, and though it had the pounding behind her temples start up again, it felt worth it. "You get enough compliments from my brother, you don't need to go fishing for them with me too."

"Me? No. I hate fishing. Detest it, really."

Parker harrumphed, but couldn't help but snicker as she took a deep whiff of her drink. "Well, if you aren't fishing, then I don't need to tell you that he doesn't act like this with just anyone," she said before taking a long sip. Too long, and it burned her mouth immediately. "Fuck!"

"Hot?"

"I thought you weren't fishing anymore," Parker muttered while wiping drool off her chin.

"I was talking about the coffee!" Jodi cried in response. But then she caught the haughty look Parker was shooting her and couldn't help but laugh. The sound hurt her ears, but, god, if everything about the woman wasn't perfect. "You and Colt, honestly. The things that you say are so ridiculous."

She vaguely remembered Tom saying the same thing the night before. A smile pulled at her burnt lips. "Tom would agree. He said something similar last night."

That look returned. "You know, for not being friends you've come a long way from calling him an asshole. I thought you were going to break his nose that day on set."

Parked moaned. "Oh, not you too."

"I'm just saying," Jodi defended from behind a steaming mug of coffee. She blew on it coolly, as though the answer to her question didn't matter in the slightest. "I just couldn't help but notice how well you were getting along last night. Spent a lot of time together, too."

"Shah, because some Englishwoman came and stole my brother from me," she retorted blithely. "I always knew boomers complained about immigrants stealing jobs, but stealing drinking buddies is a little vindictive. Even for the English."

"Oi!" Jodi exclaimed, though it ended in a laugh. "You and Colt spent plenty of time together last night. If I recall, we were trying to get away from you lot and that ridiculous game of yours."

Parker perked. "Game?"

"Something about a cat in the woods."

She thought through the previous night's events, and when the card game came to mind, her stomach rolled a second time. Moaning, she willed herself to disappear into a universe where responsibilities didn't exist. "Ugh, no wonder I feel like I'm dying."

"It was a ridiculous game. The amount you drank was ghoulish."

Something rolled in her stomach. "We don't have to—"

"And the rules didn't make any sense. It's all about drinking, drinking, drinking—"

And yep. That did it.

Parker barely made it to the toilet before she was puking up a stomach full of last night's drinks. The bathroom floor was cooler than the kitchen counter, at least, and as she caught her breath, she vowed to never drink again. Or play that retched game.

From the doorway, Jodi grimaced. "Sorry."

Parker haphazardly waved her off. "S'fine. Just do me a favor and kill Colt for me, will you? The bastard..."

Jodi smiled. "I think he might already be dead."

"What?"

Jodi inclined her head to the left, and Parker turned to find her brother curled into a ball in the bathtub. He was wearing his Miami Vice jacket backwards, and his bucket hat was drawn low over his eyes. He was so pale that she might have actually thought he was dead if it wasn't for the quiet groan of misery he let out.

"He's been in here for an hour," she said in lieu of a proper explanation. "Ran in here, threw up, and then passed out in the shower because it felt nice. I decided to leave him. Just seemed easiest."

Parker didn't doubt that.

"What a fucking idiot," she said instead, and though Jodi didn't respond, when the blonde sipped her coffee, the smug grin she was wearing made it obvious that she agreed.

---

Two coffees, a greasy bagel, and an antacid tablet later has Parker feeling moderately like a human being. The hangover is still there—teasing the inside of her skull every couple minutes—but it's better now. More manageable, at the very least.

Of course, manageable hangovers at work don't make for good working environments, and as the door rings with the sound of a brass bell, Parker adjusts the sunglasses perched on the edge of her nose.

"Hi, welcome in," she says. Though, when she looks she realizes that it's not a customer, but instead a tween girl with far too much trouble in her eyes. "Oh, it's you."

"You could sound a little more enthusiastic about it," Melissa chides, arms jingling with the sound of too many stacked bracelets to count. She looks pretty today—she looks pretty every day—and though Parker isn't in the mood for vibrant conversation, she can't deny that it's always nice to see her most loyal customer. "I am your number one, afterall."

"Number one...?"

"Customer!" Melissa chirps with a smile as if she can hear Parker's innermost thoughts. She swings closer to the counter with dancing eyes. "I have a couple more ideas I wanted to run by you before tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Sunday," Melissa says slowly, blinking. "Hello? Does painting sound familiar to you?"

Parker pinches the bridge of her nose with a sigh. She's all out of interest in paint; the welts on her ribcage haven't been forgotten, and she can feel something tweaking in her lower back from being bent over for hours at a time.

God, she's old.

"I thought we were about finished."

"Finished? Not even close," Melissa corrects her. She settles her tote bag onto the counter. Her nose scrunches distastefully as she glances around. "We only did the walls. We still have to do the shelves. And I think those will take longer since I want to add some cute detailing to them. Have you thought about shelf liners?"

"What the hell are shelf liners?"

"You know," she gestures. "Like wallpaper, but for shelves."

"That sounds expensive."

"And totally worth it. Look," she sticks her phone across the counter, Pinterest page already pulled up, and starts scrolling. The speed at which she's doing it, however, as Parker's eyes going crossed. She sits back with a groan. "It's not that bad!"

"No, no, it's not..." she starts, then stops. "Can we just talk about this tomorrow?"

Melissa pouts. "Fine, but we'll probably need to start painting first thing, since you can't put the books back up until the shelves dry completely."

"Are we sure this is even necessary?"

"Completely," the girl says, and there's no room left for argument as she pops her hip out. "I told you this place looks so much better already, but the shelves will be worth it. It'll really help everything pop. And I have some ideas about stickers we can use to make cute signs for all the book sections."

Parker sighs. "Don't you go to school?"

"Yeah. And?"

"How do you have time for all of this stuff?" she asks, a floppy hand gesturing half-heartedly to the room around them. She doesn't mean to offend Melissa in any way, but she can't imagine that there's a teen girl out there who spends all of her time dedicated to fixing up a dilapidated bookstore. "Shouldn't you be in, I don't know, cheerleading or something?"

Melissa shoots her a tart expression. "Cheerleading is so totally dated, Park. Sexist, too. They just have skinny girls wearing tiny little skirts for the objective male gaze."

"...right."

"Besides," she continues, bracelets jangling as she pops a piece of gum into her mouth. "I love this place."

Even more bewildered, Parker repeats herself. "...right."

"Speaking of—" Melissa says, and when she leans against the counter there's a waft of vanilla and lemon perfume. Parker almost gets sick at the strength of it, and she sips her coffee with a grimace. "When are you going to hire me?"

"I already did."

"For real," Melissa asserts, digging her heels in. "You said you'd think about it, and you've had plenty of time. I mean all you do is hang out here."

"Okay, ouch."

"I want a job."

"Can we talk about this tomorrow too?" Parker whines. She knows she's the adult in the situation, but... well, she really doesn't want to be. The idea of doing math and taxes has her head spinning painfully. "I'm—I have a headache."

Melissa narrows her eyes at that. Smarter beyond her years, the girl doesn't miss much, and when she leans across the counter, Parker wishes her sweatshirt would swallow her whole. "What's up with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You look bad."

"Oh, gee, thanks."

She waves a hand indifferently, and squints. "Not like that. I mean you look like you're sick. Are you sick?"

Her stomach roils, and Parker tries to hide the uncomfortable wince behind another sip of scalding black coffee. "A bit."

"You were fine on Wednesday."

"Must have caught something," she lies. The last thing she needed to do is be blamed for being a bad influence on a teenager.

Melissa furrows her brows, reaching to plant a palm against Parker's forehead. She tries to duck it, but only manages to send the room spinning a second time. "You don't feel like you have a fever."

"Twenty four hour bug I guess," she says, waving a hand as if it really was that simple. It wasn't, and when she bends down to scoop a pile of books off the ground her vision flashes white. Colt was such a fucking bastard. "Ugh."

"Oh. My. God."

She slams her eyes shut, head steepled between three fingers, already knowing what was about to come. Parker really can't handle Melissa's high-pitched tone of judgement, however, and considers just giving the girl the keys to the store right then and there. "Don't."

"Are you—?"

"No."

"—hungover?" Melissa finished anyways. She whispered the word like it was some big secret, but by the way that her eyes widened and her mouth pulled into a sneaky grin, it was obvious that the news was all too interesting to her. Especially when Parker didn't answer her right away. "Oh my god! You totally are!"

The boom of her voice had Parker's head hurting, and she let her head fall into her hands with a groan. It was a saving grace that the store was empty.

Well, not entirely a saving grace considering she needed customers, but...

"What happened?" Melissa pried. "Did you go on a date last night?"

"You think I would get black out drunk on a date?" she asked.

The girl shrugged. "I don't know, maybe it went really well."

Parker rubbed her temple wearily. "You're not going on dates are you? Because you shouldn't be getting black out on the first one, ever. That's dating one-o-one."

"Oh, whatever," she flipped a perfectly manicured hand at Parker before settling further onto the counter. It was obvious that she had sunk her teeth into the subject. The last time she done that, she convinced Parker to repaint the entire store. Hopefully, this one wouldn't be as expensive. "Not a date then. What'd you do?"

Parker sighed. "It was Colt's birthday party."

Melissa ooh-ed with a dreamy smile. "I can't wait until I can drink. Legally, I mean. Obviously I've tried beer before," she said with batted eyelashes. It seemed that she was completely ignoring the very real reality of what happened when one drank too much, and Parker rolled her eyes. "Why did you come in today? When my brother drank a lot at Christmas he was in bed until dinner the next day. Mom said he had the flu, but, like, come on."

Parker gave a half-hearted hum. Any other day a glimpse into Melissa's home life would have amused her—teenagers nowadays really did baffle her—but at the moment she didn't have the mental capacity to do much other than try not to die. "I had to open the shop."

To that, Melissa grinned. "Well, if you had another employee..."

"Oh, please, Melissa," Parker threw up a hand with a groan. "Seriously. Not today. I'm weak willed. I can't have this conversation; I'm not in the right mind, and nothing will be legally binding."

"I'm just saying!" the girl threw up her own hands with a laugh. There was something conniving about it, though. Something glittering in her eyes. "If you had another employee, then you would be able to take a morning off every once in a while. How is that a bad thing?"

"You're taking advantage of me," Parker pointed out with a sour frown.

"Actually, you could argue that I'm trying to help you."

"Hmph."

"But, now that we're on the subject," she continued, eyes flapping like Bambi as she walked a slow circle. Only, Parker got the distinct impression that she was a hen stuck with a fox, and as she wiggled her sunglasses nervously, she tried to remind herself that she was the adult in the conversation. "The store looks way nicer, and you've been getting compliments from people, and I still have a lot more ideas for what else we could do. Don't you think that hiring me would benefit us both? We could start doing work throughout the week which means you would get your Sundays back to yourself."

Parker slumped onto her hands. "Are the devil?"

"Parker," she whined, returning to the counter where she delicately propped her head on two palms, ever the essence of beauty and grace. "Please?"

The throbbing in her head hadn't gone away, and the sweat dripping down her back was as uncomfortable as it was gross. Parker had avoided every mirror in her house that morning knowing that however she looked wasn't pretty, and having someone actually pretty blinking at her made Parker feel slightly violent.

And sick.

And, well, maybe having a second employee around for the days that she was sick wasn't the worst idea out there. Not to mention that Melissa had garnered her lots of compliments over the past couple of weeks, and the store did look the best it ever had. The girl had good ideas, Parker couldn't deny that. And she certainly didn't lack a work ethic. She had been begging for a job for weeks now, and didn't once skimp on her painting responsibilities when they came together on the weekends. If anything, she was giving herself more to do every time she came.

She let out a long, self-suffering sigh. "...alright."

Melissa froze. "Really?"

"Part time, three days a week, and Saturday mornings."

"Really?"

"And I'm not paying more than minimum wage."

Her eyes were the size of saucers, waiting on baited breath, as she asked a third time, "really?!"

Slowly, Parker nodded. "Really."

Melissa jumped, squealing, and if her head hadn't hurt earlier, it was like an elephant coming through in a parade. Hand up, she said, "okay, okay, but you have to stop before I hurl. Seriously, this energy is... not a good way to start out as an employee."

"This is so sick," Melissa said anyway, unfazed by Parker's white-washed face. "I still think we should do liners for the shelves, and little gold accents, but that'll take a while, so maybe tomorrow we just start with painting this section—"

She gestured as she talked, and she talked a lot. And though Parker was only half paying attention, she hummed and nodded when appropriate. Afterall, the store did look so much better, and she could use another employee. Particularly one as clever as Melissa.

Sipping her coffee, she smiled.

Until she felt another wave of nausea.

One of these days, she swore, she would seriously kick her brother's ass.

---

Crave Cafe, only two blocks down from her own bookstore, was like stepping into a different world. The cafe itself was beautifully decorated, vintage artwork on the wall, string of pearls hanging from rope baskets in the corners, with soft LED lights in the shape of lightning bolts and cappuccinos on the wall. Discolored and misshapen mugs could be seen scattered throughout the inside, with every odd table occupied by varying individuals. Chatter echoed throughout over the sound of coffee grinders and a Spotify playlist, and though Parker was always a little sore that Crave's clientele didn't show much interest in her own storefront, she had to admit that it was her favorite place around.

Not just because the coffee was cheap, the bread always freshly made, and the general ambiance, but also because the manager, a young man named Harry, was always happy to see her.

"Don't tell me you're working again today," he said while setting about putting her order together. "I thought you were closed on Sundays."

Parker shrugged. She felt much better today, having a full night's sleep and a long shower, and though she was about to go back to more painting, she was in an arguably good mood. "Melissa's taken over the store, I'm afraid. She keeps seeing stuff on Pinterest that she's wants to try."

"Too scared to tell her no?"

"Is it lame if I say yes?"

Harry laughed, slinging a pink and yellow patterned towel over his shoulder. "I can't say I blame you. Kids nowadays are frightening. I have my own group that hangs around for hours that I'm too afraid to shoo away. When did girls get so intimidating?"

Parker followed his line of sight to a trio of teen girls. They ducked their heads at being spotted, giggles erupting from their table. "I think you're teens are a little different than mine," she pointed out with an arched brow. "Namely, Melissa isn't hoping I'll ask her to the prom."

Harry laughed at that. Parker didn't wonder why there were teen girls ogling him—he was an objectively attractive guy, white teeth, nice tattoos, good sense of humor, and the odd finger painted black, he was practically a knockoff Pete Davidson. Apparently, that was what every girl wanted nowadays. "Not that you know of, anyway," he teased while working the frother. "I'll have to come over and check it out for myself. Bet it looks nice."

She rolled her eyes with a snort. "Anything looks nicer than it looked before," she said. "I did finally get rid of that weird smell though. Score for me. Only took three gallons of Pine Sol and way too many candles. Which, I think are actually toxic but whatever. A wins a win."

He laughed again while sliding her coffees across the counter. "How late do you think you'll be there today?"

"Knowing Melissa? Till midnight. She's a bit of a hard ass."

"Perfect. I'll stop by after my shift."

"That's very presumptuous of you," she chirped, smiling. It was hard not to smile when talking to Harry. She wasn't naive enough to ignore his flirting; particularly when she stopped by three times a week for her caffeine fix. But Harry was like every other surfer in California—flaky, flirty, and trouble. Not her type in the slightest, but he was a friend, and often gave her coffee on the house. "But, if you must, bring me a bagel?"

He winked. "Anything for a pretty girl."

Parker shook her head with a smile and gathered her coffees and sandwiches up before leaving. The table of teenagers shot her dirty looks when she walked by, to which she smiled right back.

The walk back to her shop was short, stalled only when she stopped to pet a slumbering bulldog along the sidewalk. The bell overhead jingled when she entered. Despite the CLOSED sign on the door, she never bothered to lock up when they were painting. If someone was stupid enough to stumble in, she figured they would be stupid enough to fork over some cash on a book or two. And Parker would never say no to cash.

"I got the coffees!" she called when Melissa didn't immediately come to the front. Music played softly on the speakers, but the store seemed empty. Shelves had been shifted to the side with stacks of books off to the other, and the tarp crinkled under her sneakers as she walked over it. "Melissa? Hello? Did you...?"

Trailing back further proved that Melissa wasn't ignoring her, but instead in an adamant conversation.

A conversation with none other than Tom Ryder.

Parker stopped short. "Tom?"

The pair turned to her. Melissa's face was flushed, and her cheeks were split in two from the width of her smile. Her chest was heaving as if she had just been talking nonstop. Which, likely, she had.

And despite the fact that he was being mobbed by a teenager, Tom didn't seem to mind one bit. In fact, he was standing casually bent against the ladder, brows relaxed, shoulders loose underneath his expensive leather jacket. And though she expected him to greet her—like friends did—the first thing out of his mouth was, "I was wondering when you got a sense of style, before realizing that you were outsourcing to this one."

"I—what?"

Tom gestured to the bookstore as Melissa grabbed her Chai latte out of Parker's hands without so much as a thank you. "The color is much more modern, and the gold accenting really brings things together. Could use some better wall decor, but I'd bet anything nice is out of your budget."

Parker blinked. At him. Then at Melissa. "What?"

Melissa, still grinning, waved an emphatic hand at the celebrity standing across from her. "Mr. Ryder—"

"Melissa, come on, I already told you to call me Tom. We're friends, aren't we?"

She paused, flushing under his gentle comment, before tucking some loose hair behind her ear with an even bigger grin. Parker rolled her eyes at the act of it all. "Tom stopped by to talk to you, but since you were out, I let him in. He was wondering what we were painting, so I showed him what we are doing today, and then I showed him what we've done the last couple of weeks."

"Stellar, really," he chimed in. She beamed beneath his praise, and Parker swore a helicopter could have caught the brightness of her teeth from a mile away. "I think she's done a great job so far."

"I helped," Parker reminded him indignantly. Not just because he was quite obviously playing it up for the attention, but also because she was so thrown by his presence in the first place that she felt uncomfortable having walked in on them talking. "Paid it for it, too."

He acted like he hadn't even heard her. "I'll have to come back when it's finished. What design of shelf liner do you'll think you'll get?"

"I'm not totally sure. I really like the dark, forest style, with the birds and branches. But I also think that the brighter gold style would look good set against the books."

"Wait, I thought I said no to the shelf liners?" Parker interrupted.

"To which I reminded you that it would look so good," Melissa shot back. When she remembered who she was talking to, however, she gestured shyly to Tom. "Besides, he thinks it would look good too. So, that's two opinions against one, right?"

"What—he doesn't work here!" Parker exclaimed, feeling a bit like she had stumbled into the Twilight Zone. Since when did Tom Ryder have any opinion about her store besides thinking it was dirty? And since when did she care about his opinion in the first place? "It doesn't matter what he thinks."

"Should," Tom added. He looked much too smug in that moment, yet, when Melissa glanced at him, his smirk became gentler. "I mean, I do have a good eye for this sort of thing. And I'm a paying customer. Doesn't hurt to listen to your customers every once in a while does it?"

"I have the right to kick out customers, you know," she warned.

Melissa didn't like that one bit, and her voice pitched in horror. "Parker! You can't—come on. He's—you know—Tom Ryder," she said, enunciating every syllable as if Parker wasn't aware of who had stumbled into her store when it was supposed to be closed. Tom, on the other hand, pointed right back at Melissa smugly.

As if to say, yeah, I'm Tom Ryder.

Sighing, Parker pinched the bridge of her nose. Yesterday's headache seemed to be coming back full force. "I know who he is, and I don't care. And I think it's time for your break now. Sandwich?"

Melissa glanced between said sandwich, her boss, and her celebrity crush for a long moment, before accepting it with a frown. "Thirty minutes?"

"Sure."

Her mood was obviously glum as she glanced between them both once more before stalking towards the back room. She paused in the doorway. "It was nice meeting you."

Tom, for what he was worth, never missed with a grin. "Likewise. I'm glad that someone working here has a sense of style."

And just that like her glum mood vanished. Melissa smiled, blushed, and disappeared into the back room with a pep in her step. When she was gone, Tom returned his attention to Parker.

"Is that for me?" he asked. Though, he didn't even wait for an answer before he was swiping the coffee out of her hand and taking a sip. If looks could kill, it was a good thing there was already a tarp spread out beneath his feet. He furrowed his brows. "Is this an americano?"

"Yes. Mine," she snarked, grabbing it back with a huff. "Why would I have gotten you a coffee? I didn't even know you were here."

He shrugged. "Feeling generous?"

"Why are you here? We're technically closed today."

"The door was unlocked," he said, and Parker's thoughts returned to her earlier sentiments. Stupid indeed. "I do like the paint. Looks cleaner. Not so sad, anymore."

"My store wasn't sad."

"Alright, ugly."

She trailed towards the front counter with a sigh. Part of her was amused—it was nice to have someone to banter back and forth it, particularly someone like Tom—but the more sane part of her was annoyed. Only he would come drink her coffee and then insult her bookstore.

And only he would be allowed to do that. Why was that?

"Are you here for more book recommendations?" she asked, forcibly moving the conversation along as she began to unwrap her turkey, cheese, and bacon sandwich. The bread crumbled in her hands, and Parker's stomach growled at the smell. "Obviously it's a little messy right now, but I could pull a few more out for you."

He shook his head; both to shake loose fringe out of his eyes and to give her a undiscernible look. "You seem to have recovered from the party Friday night. I was pretty certain either you or Colt would be dead by now."

"And yet you didn't call," she deadpanned. "How touching."

Tom's mouth quirked at the side, and he took another long sip of her coffee. He didn't even seem to care that it wasn't his own. "Is he alright then?"

She hummed around a bite of turkey. "By the time I left yesterday morning he was sleeping it off in the bathtub. So, not really any different than last year."

"What did you do last year?"

Parker couldn't really remember, she just knew that there was a whole lot of alcohol involved, and someone set off fireworks that got them in trouble with the neighbors. "Had a poker night, I think. I don't really remember much after someone got the absinthe out though."

To that, he did laugh. Though, he shook his head and glanced away as if he didn't want her to know that he did. "I always thought that Colt was trouble, but you're no better, are you? The two of you last night drank half a cooler worth of beer."

She shrugged, completely unperturbed. Mostly because she knew he was teasing, and only slightly because she knew his partying habits would outshine hers any day. "If I recall I was asking you to drink more with us," she pointed out with a snooty look. "You were the one refusing to join in. Something about the drinks being too low brow or something."

"It wasn't the brand that kept me from drinking," he retorted. Parker didn't believe that for a second though, and when he caught the arch of her eyebrow, he rolled his eyes. "I couldn't keep up with your stupid game, alright?"

"Just admit that you're a lightweight, Ryder. I won't judge you."

"I'm not a lightweight."

"Acceptance is the first step."

"You're so fucking annoying," he said with an eyeroll. But then he was peeking at her over the counter and when their gazes met, the pair dissolved into a fit of laughter. It was a nice sound; one that she quite liked earning. Parker remembered he laughed a lot at the beach, even if she didn't always remember why he was laughing. "Whatever. You better not drink that much at my party or else I'll have you kicked out myself. Just because there's any open bar doesn't mean you need to drink everything in sight, yeah?"

Parker furrowed her brows at him. "Party?" she asked.

Tom shifted on his feet, pushing off where he had been leaning on his elbows to pluck a nearby book off the counter. Absentmindedly, he flipped through it. "My party on Friday. To announce my part in the movie. You and Colt are coming, aren't you?" he said, as if this was a conversation they had before, and not something he was springing on her out of the blue.

Her first response was to make some sort of scathing response about how she wouldn't be caught dead at one of his parties. But, Parker couldn't help but notice how he shifted on his feet, how he was avoiding her gaze.

What could someone like you ever have to be anxious about? she had asked him that fateful day in the bathroom. It was so out of character then.

But now?

Tom Ryder was an asshole, but he was also a person.

She set her sandwich down onto the parchment paper. "I didn't realize we were going to be invited. Is that alright with Gail?"

He responded with a derisive snort. "It's my party. Besides, there's over a hundred people on the guest list. She won't even realize you're there. As long as you don't dress like you normally do, that is."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

His blue eyes swept over her hair, to her paint stained sweatshirt that he had now seen her wearing twice, and then to the store around them. "It's going to be an upscale party. Important people are going to be there. I can't have you and Colt running around like idiots, getting drunk, and ruining mink rugs."

"Do you have mink rugs?" she shot back.

"Of course I don't have mink rugs."

"Then problem solved," she said, waving a hand at him. It certainly didn't answer all of his points, however, and when Tom stopped flipping through his book to shoot her a glare, Parker conceded with a sigh. "Alright. We'll dress nice. I won't spill anything on my pants. And Colt will be on his best behavior."

"Good."

"On one condition."

Tom's eye twitched. "You can't be serious."

"Colt get's a plus-one," she said anyway, ignoring the knit of his brows or the pull of his mouth. He responded just as she expected, with a long suffering sigh and an eyeroll. "Oh, come on! He'll bring Jodi, and no one is better at keeping an eye on him than her. Plus, you're right. We're not going to know anyone there. We'll stay in our own little pathetic poor people bubble. And if you do get annoyed with us, you can kick me out yourself. I bet you'd love that."

He sighed a second time, relaxing onto the counter. "I don't invite set hands to my house," he pointed out. Though, it was a bit of a moot point, wasn't it? Considering the fact that he was doing just that—and, if Parker had to guess—without Gail's stamp of approval. Not to mention the fact that his tone was soft. Not harsh or judgmental.

Just arguing for the sake of arguing.

Parker smiled at him. "First time for everything, right? I'll even tip off the pap. You might get some good press out of this," she teased.

And though he was playing the victim, Tom's mouth curved into a crooked smile anyway. Still, he made a roll of rolling his eyes a second time. "Fine. But seriously? Best behavior."

She wiggled her fingers at him in a mock salute. "Promise."

They stared at one another. His eyes, deep and bright, searching for something she wasn't quite sure. Her own, light and gentle, taking in everything. It never cased to surprise Parker just how handsome he was—no matter how much she wished that she was just making it up, or that his ego wasn't deserved—Tom Ryder was beautiful.

And when he smiled, she couldn't help but think he looked so much better like this than he did in all those over-touched advertisements. Here, now, he looked happy. Effortless. Real as he took another sip of his coffee. Eyes crinkled and teasing, mouth curved around the plastic lid, hair air dried but perfectly swept towards his temples.

He was—

"Hang on a minute. That's my coffee you ass!"

The ass, knowing now that he had been caught, set the empty cup back onto the counter with an empty thud, before attempting to make off with her sandwich too. And as he laughed, she was certain that she was finally starting to see the real Tom Ryder.

She kept that in mind when she let him see the real Parker Seavers, and leapt across the counter after him.

[paleprincessturtle]

HI I LOVE YOUR FANFICS SM! i’m here for the angst istg, if u don’t mind me requesting can u do one where reader and harvey are not together but they sleep together every once in a while so technically fwb and reader later on finds out that she’s pregnant and at first harvey doesn’t know what to do cause he never thought he’d be a father so soon so he freaks out big time and he kind of takes it on reader and they fight but then later on harvey shows up at reader’s place and he comforts her because he knows she’s probably anxious enough as it is and it’s a happy ending in the end?

Thanks a lot for the request! And also, I'm really sorry for the very very very very long wait. Life can be hard sometimes🥲 But here I am, ready to rock and rumble, and will tackle the other requests that've been collecting dust ASAP. Enjoy❤️

BEATING HEART

Harvey woke up to an empty spot beside him. He rubbed his eyes and propped his body up. "If I don't know you better, I'd say you're running away before I wake up." She laughed as she put on her earrings. "I have an early meeting this morning. Haven't I told you?" Harvey shrugged. He didn't remember talking much last night. "Come on, surely you can stay for a nice breakfast with me." She laughed as she took her bag. "If I don't know you better, I'd say you're catching feelings for me." It was Harvey's turn to laugh. "I'll see you tonight?" Harvey asked. "See? Catching feelings," she smirked at him, granting a fake gag from him. "Ciao!" she said, blowing him a kiss, and not long after, Harvey heard the door close.

"You're cheery this morning," Donna greeted Harvey. "Good morning to you too, Donna," Harvey said, a smile plastered on his face. "Ah, it's her," Donna said, pointing her slender finger at him. "Who's her?" Harvey asked, feigning confusion. "Oh, Harvey. You know damn well who she is." Harvey stopped and looked innocently at her, shaking his head slowly. Donna scoffed as she rushed him back to his feet. "Whatever did I do so that you escorted me to my office?" Donna shrugged. "I took it; things are sailing smoothly with her." Harvey sat in his chair. "Don't you have work to do?" Harvey folded both his arms on the table and smiled. Donna saluted at him and left his office, satisfied after getting an answer to her question.

It has been exactly a week since Harvey heard from her. As much as he tried to sweep it under the rug, he got quite worried. Well, yes, they agreed on this whole casual fling, but not hearing from her certainly ticked something in him. Harvey sat on the sofa in his office, phone in hand. His finger hovered over her number. Should he call her? Harvey sighed, maybe she was busy. But THAT busy not to contact him? His finger still hovered over her number. Fuck it, he thought. He pressed for her name. He waited; she usually never takes this long to pick up. Silence. Harvey looked at his phone, turned out she already picked up the phone. "Hey?" Harvey, unsure, greeted her. Something was most definitely wrong. "Harvey.." Long pause. "Is everything..." Before Harvey could finish his question, she cut him off. "I can't talk right now," and with that, Harvey heard a click. She hung up on him. 

Harvey was pissed. Harvey Specter had no experience with ghosting. With a wink or a smirk, women flocked to his lap. He swiveled in his chair, now facing the large glass window. As much as he wanted to say that he doesn't care, he does care. Even more than he cared to admit. He seemed lost in thought before he finally realized the vibration in his pocket. When her name popped up on his screen, he couldn't hide the smile creeping up his face. He opened his mouth, ready to say good morning, but before he got the chance, she silenced him with her words. "Harvey, I need to see you." She sounded urgent. Harvey's heart dropped. Is she in peril? Did someone take her hostage? "If you're in danger, say lemon drop." Harvey was prepared to fly out of his chair if she was in danger. "Harvey, I'm serious. I need to see you. Tonight." Harvey's shoulders dropped. She's okay, Harvey repeated to himself. "Okay, sure. I'll make us a dinner reservation." Harvey was about to suggest a restaurant when she cut him off, again. "No. I need to see you on a neutral ground. Somewhere quiet, but in public." She lost him on neutral ground. Neutral ground? "Will your office at 8 p.m. work?" 

"Hey," Harvey pulled her into a hug the moment she set foot in his office. "Hey," she whispered back. To Harvey's surprise, she hugged him back. Tightly. Harvey pulled away but kept her at arm's length. He took a good look at her face. Her face looked puffy, with dark circles under her eyes that she tried to hide under makeup. Harvey remained silent as he guided her to sit. They both said nothing, but they kept looking deep into each other's eyes. "Please tell me if something is wrong; I can help you. We'll get through whatever it is together." Harvey took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "We'll get through this together? Are you sure?" She let out a bitter laugh as confusion flashed across Harvey's face. "What is that supposed to mean?" Tears suddenly filled her eyes, and her lips quivered. "Oh, sweetheart, no, no," Harvey cooed. "What is it? What's wrong?" Harvey asked as he wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I'm pregnant," she whispered. It was even too quiet to be considered a whisper. Harvey quickly removed his hands from her cheeks and moved away. He sat farther from her. "You what?" Before she could respond, Harvey lifted his hand. "Aren't you taking the pill?" She nodded. "Yes, yes, I am. I never skipped a day. You know that!" she argued. "But the doctor said nothing is 100% effective in preventing pregnancy." Harvey's jaw tightened, and his lips formed into a line. She tried to grab something from her bag. Harvey stood up in panic when he saw what it was. A pregnancy test and a sonogram. With both items in her hand, she stretched her arm. Full of hesitation, Harvey took it. He examined the sonogram with trembling hands. She watched him carefully. Not long after, she saw him shake his head. He threw the pregnancy test and the sonogram on the table. It made a loud clank, while the sonogram slowly made its way to the carpet. "How quickly can you do a paternity test?' Harvey's voice sounded cold. Unconsciously, her hand reached her still-flat stomach. Trying to protect it. "You think I sleep around?" A look of betrayal crossed her worn face. Instead of answering, Harvey stared intently at her. An answer to her question. "I'll transfer you the necessary money to complete the test." In the meantime, you can leave. I'm busy." She watched in disbelief as he used his lawyer's tone and language on her. She held out a sob as he nonchalantly sat on his chair, paying her no attention.

Two weeks have passed since that fateful night, and Harvey, for the love of God, hasn't had a good night's sleep since. Naturally, he was in a foul mood, and he made sure everyone around him knew it. He couldn't be certain whether not hearing from her was a good or bad thing. Never before in his life had fatherhood crossed his mind, and suddenly the prospect of it was right before him, knocking him off. But above everything, he missed her. Some nights, guilt clouded over him. Some nights, it was anger. Today, it was just nothing. He felt as though he had lost his entire being. Best bet? That night, she took it away with her. He sighed as the elevator came to a halt. He sauntered to his office but abruptly stopped just a few steps away from his desk when he saw an unfamiliar envelope with the Mount Sinai Hospital logo on the front. Harvey Specter was not one to run away from even the most dire situations. But right now, his instinct was to run away as far as possible. The two outcomes that awaited him in that envelope filled him with equal terror. He took a deep breath, and after a long 5 minutes of contemplation, he opened the envelope.

Harvey was sure that he never sped through the streets of New York like that. The tires on his DB9 screeched in protest as he parked. He banged on a door he knew well, not only loudly but rapidly. A look of surprise graced her face. "Harvey..." she shook her head. Her hand firmly stayed on the door. She was ready to close it. To Harvey's surprise, her voice was devoid of any anger. As if she were okay with what Harvey had done to her in the past few weeks. "Please, 10 minutes. Please?" Harvey plead. She stared at Harvey's face. He looked terrible. She nodded as she opened the door for him. Harvey followed her inside like a lost dog, as if he had never been to her house before. She stopped in her kitchen and turned to look at Harvey. He stood close to her. They gazed at each other. Anger, disappointment, guilt, everything. Everything. Her lip quivered as she looked down, breaking eye contact. Harvey fell to his knees, his hands covering his face as he let out a sob. She did nothing but watch him. Her heart aches for him. He looked up at her and hugged her. His hand circled her knees, his face buried in her sweater-covered stomach. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," he mumbled hoarsely. Her heart was torn. After what he had done, how could she forgive him? She raised her arm. She stopped herself just before it touched his hair; her hand hovered there for some time. Finally, she allowed her hand to gently land on his head. She caressed his head softly as if comforting him silently. They stayed in that position for a while. "Harvey, please," she whispered, encouraging him to stand up. He subtly shook his head. He feared that once this moment was over, he could lose her. Not only her, but their child. She gave up; she knew Harvey wouldn't listen to her. So she dropped to her knees with Harvey's hands on hers. They now sat on the cold marble in her kitchen. Harvey's eyes were bloodshot, and so were hers. Harvey leaned his head forward, and to his surprise, she met him halfway. She closed her eyes, foreheads touching. "I'm sorry. I have nothing else to say, but I'm sorry," Harvey whispered. His eyes widened as he tried to catch any reactions from her. She shook her head weakly, and his heart dropped.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The steady sound of strong heartbeats filled the quiet room. His eyes shone with unshed tears as he heard it for the first time. He felt a gentle squeeze on his hand, and he shifted his gaze from the screen to the woman lying there on the bed. "The baby is going as strong as ever." Harvey smiled at the doctor, and never before had his heart felt so much joy. As they exited the doctor's room, Harvey was instantly busy on his phone. She sighed. "What are you doing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "Here." Harvey showed her the screen of his phone, and her brows knitted in confusion. He took his phone back. "I think we should buy the ultrasound machine; I'm inquiring about it as we speak," Harvey said proudly, and she just shook her head in amusement. They waited for Ray to pull up by the hospital's driveway. She laughed as she felt Harvey's gaze on her. "What?" She looked at him, and Harvey smiled goofily at her. "I'm so happy," he said, taking a step closer and taking her hand. The cold ring on her ring finger made him smile even more. "There's us, our child, growing healthily because we're so happy," Harvey rambled, and you laughed at his excitement. He stopped himself and looked at her with great meaning, one hand on her cheek and another resting gently on her small bump. "I love you. God, I love you more than anything in this universe."

MASTERLIST

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Is it bad that I crave your writting for Boo's childhood/backstory(including teen years, that shit gets crazy) just pack with layers upon layers upon layers upon layers upon layers of gut wrenching and sole crushing angst?

And Boo is telling Al and Seth all of this horrific tragic story and at the end of it they're just sitting there like:

"Sugerboo, wtaf?!"

lol don't mind me, just need to feel things tonight! And by that I mean pain! 🥲

-🪷 anon

Fucked life.

TW: Drug use, gambling, bad parents, domestic abuse (won't go into it), manipulation, shitty childhood and in all just wow. If I write anything wrong please tell me!

‼️This is just for the ask not giving Boo an actual background.‼️

"My childhood was of drugs, screaming, and fighting behind walls." Sipping the alcohol in the cup they got. Sugarboo leaned back on the chair they were in, nonchalant about what they just said. The boys were silent waiting for them to continue, not to disturb the comfortable flow they got themselves in.

"My dad wasn't and still ISN'T a good man. He would beat my mom, screaming at her why did she give birth to a defect of a kid. One that couldn't even shut the fuck up when he was mad." Hissing out Sugarboo grabbed the cup a bit tight. Seth felt his hands clench, and Alphonse looked ready to kill someone.

"But my mom wasn't a Saint either in this shit. She'd be like 'I took that beating for you and you can't even try to better yourself? What kind of child doesn't try for their mother?' She'd also say that me giving her money for her drug abuse would help her." Looking into the flames of the camp fire Sugarboo got lost in thought. Memories of needles and white powder on the table flashing through their mind.

"I had to lie to cps so, so many fucking times. Saying my mother was just tired because she worked two jobs, which she did. But got fired every time because she kept stealing food from the kitchen and taking alcohol from the gas station she worked at." Chugging the rest of their alcohol they reached over and grabbed a bottle of whatever. Cracking it open they didn't want to look at the stares of pity drilling on the back of their head.

"After my dad finally cracked and left my mom because of her drug addiction he took all the money we had. I was uumm, 16? Had a job at this Cafe in the city we lived in. The owner was this old man that knew what my mom did." Smiling solemnly SB thought back on that man. He was the father figure they needed desperately, he was a short Mexican man in his late 40's.

"Francisco, let me stay at the Cafe if I needed too. Made sure to squirrel away money for me so I can get away from my druggie mom....." Whispering SB wiped some tears that fell. It was hard talking about this shit, how their live was a mess and now they can't really talk about it. Not without the looks of pity.

"My mom found out when Francisco was talking to another coworker of mine. About how it was almost $200 dollars saved up for me. I've told him as soon as I graduated I was skipping to a different town. I wanted to be a baker, but my mom told me I needed a real job." Hissing out the last bit Sugarboo chugged the rest of the second cup. Starting their third as they slurred out more words.

"The bitch tried to hurt him! I never....got so fucking angry before. I grabbed a bottle and smashed it over her head. My mom didn't like that, so she, who was on a withdrawal of two days, began choking me." Moving their collar, flashing the scar they got from her nails. Alphonse remember asking about them before, Boo just shook their head and said 'For another time.' He felt like shit asking about it now.

"Francisco, worried grabbed a gun he had incase of a robber....shot her. There was witnesses and everything, so he wasn't charged. It was ruled as self defense. But I didn't have anywhere to go, as shitty as it was I had to be pit in a foster home." More tears pooled in their eyes as they left them fall. They wanted to stay with Francisco, but the Judge's words were final.

"I still worked there at the Cafe. But I wanted to stay with him! My Foster parents were nice I guess but they didn't get me. Mostly left me alone because I was older." There was older kids there but, SB didn't make friends with them. It was clear they didn't want another teenager with them.

"When it was the summer before or was it after? I turned 18....Francisco, he....he died." Sobbing out Seth and Alphonse got up. Each boy holding a hand as Sugarboo curled into themselves and cried.

"He left me everything. His grandchildren tried to get shit from me but they couldn't. They never tried and connect with him, even though he tried so desperately. I didn't budge or nothing I told them to suck my dick and kept the promise I had with Francisco. To run and live my life. How I wanted it, no shitty dad's, my druggie mom was dead and I was 18 with $24,000 dollars that Francisco left for me." Sitting up proud Sugarboo laughed as they remembered the old man telling them they better do good with he money. How he wanted them to be better than their parents, to use the hate they build up to make it useful.

"And here I am now! My own bakery in a small town that loves my goods. And two amazing men in my life! So yeah I'd think I'm living my life right now." Smiling at the two men who were still silent. Sugarboo got smiles back as all three hugged, this was nice.

"Boo, holy shit." Was the inky words they got as a response. Laughing at that Boo leaned to Alphonse and gave him a kiss. He always did have comedic timing.

"Sugar, I'm glad we got to meet you. And I'm glad you stayed strong through out all of this." The sad eyed man had tears saying those words. Sugarboo started frowning as they wiped his tears softly.

"Awe, don't cry hon..." Whispering as Seth was being held by them. Alphonse started crying too, wishing he meet then sooner to help them. But they can't change the past, it's already done.

"Wanna make stores and drink this night away?" Giving a cheeky grin Sugarboo held up their cup. Seth gave a watery laugh as he sat back up and nodded.

Alphonse cracked open another bottle of the disgusting sugary drink he had. And the three began drinking, telling happy memories they held close to their hearts. Stories made them stronger, helping them better understand where one of the trio was.

Sugarboo, for a moment paused looking at Seth and Alphonse argue over who won the wresting match when younger. And they started giggling like a maniac seeing their boys being so....them. Even after what they told the boys they still wanted them.

[igotanidea]

WAYNE FAMILY ADVENTURES ALERT!!

I REPEAT: WAYNE FAMILY ADVENTURES ALERT!!

THE BEST EPISODE EVER!

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

me: i will not think of more angst today

me: *listens to For Riddles, For Wonders*

me: well mission failed then!

[tinyluvs]

imagine dating spencer and you come to visit or something and make him so distracted that he literally can’t info dump on something and the rest of the team is just shocked

yes yes, a hundred times yes 🤭 thank you so much!

catching a glimpse of yourself in the elevator mirror was the last thing you needed right now. you were covered in paint, your dungarees showing up every coloured streak and hand print against the light denim. you're sure there's paint in your hair but you don't have time to dwell on it, you're late

you'd got stressed, painting your boyfriends apartment on your own, lost track of time and then didn't have the time to change before running out of the apartment, just about managing to remember to grab yours and spencer's lunch on the way

"i'm so sorry i'm late," you sigh and frown as you rush through the bullpen to the collection of desks you're oh so familiar with, "please excuse the state of me,"

spencer turns at the sound of your voice, "hi sweetheart," he hums, looking up at you just as you dip to kiss him quickly before pushing the bag of food onto his lap

"hey," you smile softly at your boyfriend before turning to his colleagues, "hey guys, how are we all?" you ask, getting a mixed bunch of replies back

"how's painting?" derek laughs, looking at your appearance and the state of your clothes

you slide onto spencer's desk, pulling your legs up to sit cross legged, "standing six feet up a ladder trying to hold a tray of paint and a brush is hard, i've nearly fallen off twice," you huff,

spencer hands you the sandwich he knows is yours and then seemingly looks at you properly for the first time since you've been there, "hey," he says, almost breathlessly

"hello?" you question, head tilting slightly, "you've already said hi," you say, looking at emily and jj who just snicker and shrug their shoulders but spencer doesn't reply, "oh before i forget!"

your boyfriend watches you carefully as you produce a piece of paper from the tiny pocket on the front of your dungarees, flapping it around to unfold it, your other hand busy clutching your food

"the living room is next, i need to know how much paint to buy," you explain, handing the paper to him, "the cans are one litre or five litres, i can't figure it out"

truth be told you hadn't bothered to try and work it out, knowing spencer would be able to reel off the answer like it's nothing, naturally, he knew the exact measurements of every wall in his house

the boy stares up at you blankly, big brown eyes soft and sparkly. your cheeks heat up under his gaze, your eyebrows raising slightly, "spence?" you nudge him with your knee

he jumps ever so slightly, his head shaking a bit, "hmm?" he asks before only just registering you've handed him something, his eyes scan over it, "oh!" he blushes, turning his chair to face his desk

"what colour are you doing the living room?" jj asks while she stabs at her salad like it's offending her. you'd consulted the girls with all of the decorating developments.

"a light brown i think, we have so much to hang on the walls," you pause to swallow, "so something neutral," you finish with a slight nod

a door opening to your side grabs your attention, aaron coming out of his office with his lunch. he comes down into the bullpen, sitting on the edge of emily's desk, "the paint fighting back?" he asks you, slight smile creeping over his face

you roll your eyes at him, playfully, while the other laugh at your expense, "very funny but i don't see any of you offering to help"

penelope scoffs, "actually, i did" and she was right, however her idea of getting wine drunk and decorating had been quickly shut down by spencer, the only input he's actually offered up in the whole process

giggling, you turn back to your boyfriend who's been far too quiet, "boy wonder?" you say gently, pushing your fingers through his hair, "got an answer for me?"

usually he would have an answer within seconds, his minutes of silence making you frown, he turns to you with the same frown painted across his face, "i don't know," he says

people around you gasp, loudly too, "what do you mean, you don't know?" emily almost chokes on her lunch, sitting forward to gawp at the boy

"i do not know how much paint we need" he confirms

derek scrambles, pulling his phone out of his pocket, "say it again, i need record of this moment" he pleads while garcia smacks him

"well there's a first," david says, wandering over after hearing spencer say i don't know for possibly the first time, ever

your boy stares at the paper in his hand and then up at you, confused, "i have to go and work it out, excuse me" he says, rushed, as he stands and takes off towards circle table room

after a moment of shocked silence you turn to the team who are all staring directly at you, "i'll go check on him, i wonder what's wrong?" you say to no one in particular as you hop off of the desk

"i think i know," jj sing songs and the others hum in agreement as you hop up the stairs and along the walkway into the room.

when you get into the room spencer is stood in front of the biggest whiteboard you've possibly ever seen, marker in hand though the board is still empty of his handwriting

"spence? angel?" you say quietly, staring at his back as he starts to write the measurements of the walls in his living room, "everything alright?"

he hums, not turning to look at you as he continues to work through the problem, "yeah, fine, just can't think properly when you're around," he admits, "not when you look like that," he turns slightly to look at you

"oh, do you want me to leave?" you're sad, its obvious in your voice. nervously you start fiddling with the sleeves of your sweatshirt

your boyfriend gasps, "no, no, honey that's not what i meant!" he says, holding his arm out. you slide into the space, head resting on his shoulder, "you're so beautiful and i love you so much, so so much, my brain just switches off when you’re around"

"really?" you giggle, looking up at him. he hums and nods his head, a light blush rushes up his neck before taking over his cheeks, "i love you too,"

he's taller than you, forcing you onto your tip toes to kiss him, not caring when someone, emily, whoops from the bullpen. gentle hands squeeze at your waist, while you hold his face with one hand, the other resting on his shoulder

"three litres," spencer mumbles against your mouth, you pull away with a sight hum, forgetting what you'd asked of him, "you need three but it's cheaper to just buy five and have left over, now come back" he huffs, his arm wrapping tighter around you to pull you back in for another kiss

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

[wonusite]

The Thing About Pretty Boys

❝ You’re convinced that pretty boy Seonghwa could never fuck anyone stupid. He decides to prove you wrong. ❞

PAIRING: park seonghwa x female reader

GENRE: friends to lovers au, smut

WORD COUNT: 4k

WARNINGS: pwp, repressed feelings, overuse of the word pretty (sorry not sorry), seonghwa is HUNG, cock drunk!reader, pussy drunk!seonghwa, mentions of anal, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, multiple creampies, backshots, squirting, dumbification, possessiveness, breeding kink, overstimulation

A/N: this has been long overdue, and i hope you guys like it! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

“There’s no way.”

Your incredulous snort makes Seonghwa pause. He whips his head in your direction, pretty frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. You keep laughing, keeling over until your loose nightshirt starts to hang off one of your shoulders. The way you’re falling over like he said something hilarious is starting to irritate him. Like really fucking bad.

When you finally stop laughing, you notice the deep scowl your friend is directing at you. Even as he's directing a scornful glare at you, he looks unfairly pretty. The thought makes you huff out one last weak laugh. “What? Don’t give me that look.”

His jaw flexes, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “You believed fucking Mingi when he said the same thing.”

Your nonchalant shrug makes Seonghwa’s eye twitch in annoyance. He’s not offended, not exactly. It’s just the slightest bit irritating that he’s literally in your room, on your bed, alone, and you still can’t think of him in a way he desperately wants you to.

“Because it’s obvious that Mingi knows what he’s doing. Like, you can tell he’s a beast in bed.”

“And what makes you think I’m not?”

It’s weird that he’s so insistent on getting you to believe him. Seonghwa usually doesn’t care about what anyone thinks since he claims to know himself the best, so other people’s opinions don’t really matter. Apparently, he isn’t too different from all the other guys you’ve met. It’s kind of cute.

“I just— Who cares?” You splutter, suddenly feeling flustered with how he’s staring at you so intently.

“Tell me why.”

You nearly recoil in shock at how assertive and dominant Seonghwa sounds. His tone and hard eyes makes something inside you flutter with desire. Taken aback by your own indecent reaction, you clear your throat and avert your eyes back to the paused sex scene out of a movie you can't remember the name of.

If you could go back in time and pick a different movie that hadn’t started this entire thing, you would.

“Fine.” You sigh, willing yourself to calm down. “I just think that most pretty boys aren’t able to fuck anyone stupid. That’s all—it’s nothing personal.”

Oh, but it is.

To Seonghwa, who had pictured you writhing and screaming from pleasure under him way too many times to be considered normal, it’s definitely personal.

“I could fuck you stupid.”

His words hang in the air heavily. You expect him to give you that pretty, nonchalant smile of his and tell you that he’s joking. But he doesn’t. In fact, Seonghwa is looking at you with an unmistakable heat and determination in his gaze that has you feeling like prey.

“Whatever.” You force yourself to choke out a laugh, mind already wandering to what it would be like to fuck such a pretty man.

Seonghwa seems unfazed by your dismissal. He stands up from your bed before kneeling at the edge in front of where you’re sitting. You let out a shocked yelp when he grabs your bare legs and yanks you toward him. His eyes are dark as he gazes up at you like he’s going to devour you.

The heat coming from his hands and just having him nestled between your legs makes your cunt throb. It’s embarrassing how fast you’re getting turned on, but you blame it on the fact that it has everything to do that Seonghwa is just so damn pretty.

“H-Hwa.” You actually fucking whimper, sounding completely needy.

“Gonna let me prove it?” He smirks, hands gently caressing your thighs that are unconsciously spreading for him.

“Fine.” You try to sound like you aren’t already soaking, horny mess. “You have to hurry, though. Sannie’s gonna be back soon.”

Seonghwa nearly growls at the mention of your clingy roommate. He trails his hands up the soft skin of your thighs and grips the edges on your panties. You let out a scandalized gasp when he literally rips them off of you. He throws them over his shoulder before flipping up your oversized shirt and exposing your hot cunt to the air.

His groan makes you clench around nothing. Before you can say anything, Seonghwa yanks you forward and smashes his face into your wet pussy. Any and all coherent thoughts are quickly ejected from your mind. You let out a small moan when you feel your friend’s tongue split through your folds, tasting you for the first time.

“Fuck.” Seonghwa moans into your cunt. “I knew you would taste good.”

His words make your brain turn into literal mush because what the fuck? Had he been thinking about what it would be like to eat you out? The mere thought has more juices spilling out of you. Your body’s reaction only spurs Seonghwa on, his hands gripping your thighs tighter and pulling you further on his mouth.

You toss your head back with a moan. All you can feel is his tongue plunging deep inside you. Every time his nose bumps against your throbbing clit, it sends jolt of pleasure up your spine.

“S-Shit, Hwa.” You whimper, hands falling to his messy hair.

Seonghwa smirks into your pussy when you start to tug on his hair. He hums against your leaking hole before latching onto your swollen nub and suckling on it with a lewd slurping sound. Your cries of pleasure sound like music to his ears, and it makes him more determined to have you begging and crying for his cock. Seonghwa is sure your moans would sound even prettier when he’s actually splitting you open with his dick.

“So good.” You mewl as he keeps sucking on your aching bud. “K-Keep doing that.”

Seonghwa starts to plant sloppy kisses on your glistening folds before dragging his tongue up your slit. He repeats the action a few times before he sucks your puffy clit back into his mouth. The sight of your face twisting in pleasure is a sight he’ll never forget. To see the object of his fantasies writhing and shaking from pleasure has his cock straining in his pants, eager to be stuffed into your cunt.

You start to grind your pussy into his face as he keeps licking and fucking you with his tongue. His ravenous movements are like that of a starved man, and soon you feel your abdomen tighten with the need to release.

“I-I think I’m gonna come.” You moan, surprised that he managed to get you so close to an orgasm in such a short amount of time.

Seonghwa groans into your sopping cunt. “Do it, baby. Come all over my tongue. Let me taste you.”

You gasp out his name as a wave of pleasure suddenly washes over you. The tight coil in your stomach snaps as your walls become impossibly tight. Your moan is loud and wanton as you squirt all over your friend’s face.

Seonghwa’s moan sounds animalistic as he presses his tongue flat against your entrance, collecting all your sweet juices and slurping you dry. He’s practically making out with your pussy until there’s none of your addicting cream left to lap up.

“Mhm, baby. You taste so fucking good.”

You’re a trembling mess as he plants gentle kisses on your inner thighs before standing up, your juices covering his chin. The sight of you all fucked out because of him, makes the desire in his gut get more intense.

“Sorry.” You huff out, mind a bit more clear when you see him licking his lips. “I-I’ve– that usually doesn’t happen.”

To be exact, it’s never happened.

“I’ll forgive you.” He sounds sweet as he starts to unbuckle his belt. Seonghwa pulls his shirt off before pulling his pants down until he’s left in only his underwear, impressive bulge standing out. “But only if you do it again—on my cock this time.”

You can’t be mad that he looks so smug because he’s just so fucking pretty. He becomes even more attractive after sliding his underwear off and letting his big cock slap against his lower abdomen. The large organ is intimidatingly long and thick as it throbs and leaks with precum. Your mouth waters, and you can’t be surprised that his cock is a pretty as he is.

Unfortunately, you don’t get to admire it for too long because Seonghwa grabs you and flips you around. You’re propped up on your elbows and knees to support your weight, large shirt bunching at your waist as he arches your back to the angle he wants.

Seonghwa licks his lips as he squeezes and caresses your ass, leaking cock throbbing at the pretty sight of you all ready to get fucked. This is way better than any of his fantasies, and he hopes that this is only the first time of many.

“Such a pretty ass. Maybe you’ll let me fuck it next time.” His sultry voice has you dripping in desperation. “But for now, let’s see how much you can handle, baby.”

A needy, pathetic mewl tumbles out of you as Seonghwa presses his oozing tip against your entrance. He rubs and taps it against your folds, enjoying how you’re desperately rutting your hips back. Just minutes ago you were adamant that he wasn’t capable of getting this sort of reaction.

Your mouth drops open in pleasure when he slowly eases his cock into you. “O-Oh, fuck.” Your moan is weak as your eyes slowly close.

Seonghwa looks down to where his fat cock is pushing into your tightness, stretching you wider than ever before and claiming your pretty cunt as his. The sight is mesmerising, and he can’t stop the deep moan he lets out from it. His cock throbs wildly as he finally bottoms out. You’re so hot and tight that he might actually blow his load before he even gets the chance to fuck you properly.

His cock is hitting your deepest spot, and you let out a wanton moan as you tightly grip your sheets. “Fuck me!”

A carnal desire takes over Seonghwa when he hears your needy cry. He’s never been able to deny you anything, and he doesn’t plan to start now. Immediately, he begins to pummel in and out of you, fucking your sopping cunt roughly. Obscene noises fill the room as his pelvis slams against your ass.

Seonghwa can’t take his eyes off your pretty little pussy and how it swallows his cock so perfectly. His heavy balls are being stained with your arousal as they slap against your puffy clit. He becomes more ravenous with every rough thrust.

“You’re already soaking my cock, baby. I fucking knew you wouldn’t be able to get enough.” He grunts as he grabs your hips, quickly growing obsessed with how you feel around him.

It's true, and you can't deny it. Not that you want to. His cock is stretching you out so good that you can’t think straight.

“So fucking good.” You mewl as you deepen your arch so he can fuck you deeper.

One of Seonghwa’s hands trails down your body to squeeze your ass while the other goes around your waist to rub your sensitive clit. He pounds into you harder, loving the cries and whimpers you’re letting out every time he fucks his cock into your juicy cunt. You’re throwing yourself back on him to meet his thrusts, loving how his big cock splits you open with every snap of his hips.

“Gonna ruin this sweet little pussy so only I fit.” Seonghwa growls, spanking your ass harshly.

His words make you clench on his cock and coat it with more of your cream. You whine and cry out for him, already feeling any thoughts that aren’t about his big dick being fucked out of you. His hips start to snap with a rough precision you claimed he wasn’t capable of, and you wonder how longer it’ll take him to realize that he already proved you wrong.

Seonghwa feels your cunt start to tighten around his cock like it doesn’t want to let go. With the way you’re starting to tremble, he can tell you’re close to falling apart. But he wants to see your face when you do. It’s the thing he’s wanted the most since he met you.

You cry out in protest when Seonghwa abruptly pulls out his hard cock of your pussy. Before you can beg him to put it back in, he’s flipping you on your back. He gently caresses your shaking thighs with a heated gaze. Then, he’s removing the big shirt you have on, dark eyes taking in every inch of your exposed body.

“Hwa.” You plead through a needy mewl. “Don’t tease.”

The look on your face makes his cock throb painfully. You look absolutely fucked out, and to think he hasn’t even made you come yet. Seonghwa licks his lips and teases your soaking entrance with his leaking tip. His smirk is deviant, but so hot that all you can do is buck your hips desperately. Unlike your initial thoughts, your friend doesn’t make you wait.

It’s satisfying how Seonghwa’s jaw snaps open as he watches your pretty pussy slowly get filled with his thick cock. The erotic sight drives him to start fucking into you again. He lets out a deep groan when he sees your cream coat his entire length as you squeeze him tighter than anyone ever has.

Pleasure consumes you and licks up your entire body as Seonghwa pounds his cock into your hot cunt. Your moans turn into loud cries that mix into the lewd squelching coming from where you two are connected when he presses your legs to your chest. The new position allows him to fuck into you deeper than before.

All coherent thoughts are slowly dissipating every time his cock pounds against your sweet spot. A carnal desire takes over and has you begging for more through broken whimpers. “Fuh-Fuck. Fill me up, Hwa.”

The moan Seonghwa lets out is as pretty as he is. Your wanton pleas trigger something primal inside of him, and he feels himself going feral at the thought of breeding you.

“You want my cum, baby?” He coos sweetly, heavy balls slapping against your ass in sync with your wanton moans.

It’s embarrassing how fast you nod, back arching as you feel a wave of pleasure start to consume you. His cock is throbbing inside you, and all you can think about is milking him for all that he’s worth. “Want it so bad!”

“Fuck.” Seonghwa sucks in a sharp breath. “Pretty little pussy’s so tight for me.”

Your filthy moans are quickly stifled when Seonghwa bends down to kiss you. His movements are passionate and desperate, teeth tugging at your bottom lips. It feels like your brain has turned into static with all the euphoric sensations consuming you. All you can focus on is his cock splitting you open and the sounds of your skin slapping against his.

When Seonghwa pulls back, he maintains eye contact. As you stare into his eyes, you can see that they’re filled with an emotion that goes beyond lust and arousal. It makes your heart pound for an entirely different reason. His gentle stare is a great contrast to the rough snap of his hips.

That affectionate look is all it takes for you to squirt all over your friend once again. Your cry is loud as you cover his abdomen with your orgasm.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Make a mess all over me.” Seonghwa moans as he watches you go dumb on his cock.

The sight of your pretty face slack with pleasure has him fucking into your cervix savagely. Your cunt is gripping his cock so tightly that it doesn’t take long for him to release his thick load inside you. His thrusts grow sloppy as he starts to fill you with ropes of cum. Your soppy cunt is overflowing with so much of his seed that it bubbles around the base of his cock and leaks down to your ass—a filthy sight Seonghwa will never forget.

You’re both panting as he slowly lets go of your legs. Seonghwa watches you carefully, but doesn’t make a move to pull out of you. He wants to keep you plugged and full of his cum, and by how you slowly wrap your legs around his waist, it seems like you feel the same way.

When you come back to your senses, you nervously lick your lips when you see Seonghwa’s smirk. “What?”

“You’re a squirter?” His words sound teasing.

“N-No.” You pant out, unsure of how to tell him he’s the only one capable of evoking such a reaction from your body.

Apparently, your friend only sees this as another one of your challenges. He caresses your soft thighs as a challenging look crosses his face.

“Do it again.”

Seonghwa starts to move again, his aching cock sliding against your walls with ease as he fucks his cum deeper inside you. He unhooks your legs from his waist so he can place them on his shoulders. From this angle he can see your filthy cunt being split open on his thick cock.

“I can’t.” You manage to moan out, loving how his dick drags against your velvety walls with precision. “God, Hwa. I-It’s too much.”

“You say that, but your pretty little pussy keeps squeezing my cock like it doesn’t want to let go.” He says as his thumb starts to rub slow circles on your throbbing clit. “I’m sure you can squirt for me again if I give you another load, hm?”

Seonghwa’s smirk is cocky when he feels your cunt tighten around him again. He loves how you don’t deny it. In fact, you whine out a quiet more as he continues to fuck you. His thumb is still stimulating your puffy bud as his hips snap into you. Clearly, your friend is enjoying fucking you to the point of delirium. You can’t complain because you’re enjoying it just as much.

“Tight little cunt was made to take my cock.” He grunts as his eyes start to roll to the back of his head.

You can’t fathom how it feels like he knows your body more than you do. His cock keeps ramming against your g-spot, and all you can do is let out moans and mewls of pleasure. You’re sure it won’t be long until you come again.

A ring of white cream surrounds the base of his cock and slowly drips down his balls and on to the sheets. Seonghwa knows you won’t ever be able to forget how good he’s fucked you, and he also knows that he’s potentially ruined you for any other man. Not that he would let you go after feeling your pussy.

“God, baby. Your sweet pussy’s already gonna make me come again.” Seonghwa groans, thrusts becoming tougher and sharper. “Gonna let me come inside again?”

“Yes!” You squeal, already gone dumb again. “Come inside me!”

The overstimulation has lewd and filthy sounds coming out of you, but you can’t help it. Especially not when you look down and see how his big cock is piercing into your tight cunt. You gasp and jolt as he continues to ram into you like you’re nothing more than a hole. Your legs start to tremble as your third orgasm abruptly hits you.

Like the two previous times, your toes curl as you uncontrollably squirt on his cock.

“Such a good girl.” Seonghwa praises you with his pretty smile. “Here’s your reward.”

He slams into you a few more time before he spills his thick seed inside you, filling you to the brim. Your eyes roll back as your pussy contracts around Seonghwa’s pulsing cock. The feeling of his hot cum filling your insides is so fucking good that all you can do is mewl his name weakly and pathetically. It feels like your mind is clouded with a euphoric haze preventing you from thinking straight.

Soon, Seonghwa pulls out of your creamy cunt, his cum dripping out of you and staining the sheets beneath you. His eyes darken at the sight of your sensitive folds covered with his seed. A low growl builds in his chest as he swoops down to smash his lips on to yours. You moan into his mouth as he parts your lips with his tongue to deepen the kiss.

When he pulls away from you, he gives you another lascivious smirk. “We’re not done yet, baby.”

It shouldn’t excite you this much that he’s not done. You’re literally dripping with his cum, but you still want more. His hard, throbbing cock is resting against your sloppy pussy, and you start to gyrate your hips to get him to fuck you again. Maybe you’re already addicted, but it doesn’t matter because Seonghwa seems to feel the exact same way.

A quiet moan rips from your throat when he starts to fuck his cock between your messy lips. You cry out from the sensation, still sensitive from the other orgasms he’s ripped out of you. Slowly and teasingly, Seonghwa drags the tip of his fat cock down to your entrance, moaning when more of his cum seeps out of you. The sight is something he’ll never forget and always try to recreate.

The noises you let out are so cute and needy that they make his cock throb painfully. Seonghwa slowly eases into you for a third time, base of his heavy cock touching your core and big balls resting against your ass. Your pussy is pulsing around him as you leak with your mixed releases.

You can feel Seonghwa’s cock so deep inside you that it’s dizzying and almost comparible to being drunk. Vaguely, you think this is what it must be like to be cockdrunk.

“So fucking pretty. All for me.” Seonghwa groans hotly.

The breath is almost knocked out of you as he drags his dick back before ramming it back into the depths of your wet pussy. He begins to pound into you, the sound of skin on skin quickly filling the room.

Seonghwa stares down at your pretty face while he fucks you into oblivion, making sure to memorize every aspect. From the way your eyes roll into your skull when he spears his big cock into you to how your jaw falls slack so quickly. It’s all for him, and he knows he wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.

“S-Seonghwa!” You squeal, toes curling and limbs starting to tremble.

The familiar sensation gets worse as your friend continues to fuck into your guts, stroking your walls with his thick cock. He’s slamming into your sweet spot with a savage like pace that you know it won’t be long before you fall apart again.

“That’s it, baby. Cream all over my cock.” Seonghwa groans as you mewl at his filthy words.

As if his voice and words are a trigger, your body starts to react. His harsh thrusts make you start to convulse, effectively soaking his cock. As if it’s all you’re capable of giving him, you weakly come on his aching dick with a choked moan. Your tits are bouncing with every thrust, body twitching as Seonghwa roughly fucks you through your orgasm.

“Want your cum.” You mewl, and Seonghwa simply begins to fuck you quicker.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna pump you full until you’re leaking with my cum for days.” Seonghwa promises through possessive growls as he sloppily fucks into your soiled cunt.

Seonghwa suddenly stills deep inside your pussy, spilling his hot seed inside of you. Thick, white ropes of cum paint your walls until it leaves his cock dripping. He nearly slumps on top of you, but then he rolls over and onto his back, taking you with him. His cock stays inside you, keeping you plugged with his many loads.

“How are you feeling?” The soft voice you recognize is back as Seonghwa gently caresses your naked back.

You sigh into his neck, feeling completely sated. “Full.”

His pretty laugh makes you smile, and you can’t help but think that Mingi was right when he told you that thing about pretty boys.

[shotmrmiller]

I like to think that Simon has no game. He's large, he's unapproachable, his stare alone scares away the women. Which was totally fine, until one day, he saw you as Johnny's screensaver on his phone. He was entranced, mesmerized. He's seen more than enough beautiful women on the orange youtube (his hand being his only source of relief for years) but there was something different about you. Maybe it was the tender smile you had on your face, or maybe it was how you glowed with happiness.

Or your eyes. Your eyes twinkled with affection, you looked at the camera with love. Love. That's it.

He can't remember the last time someone aimed a fond look his way. And whenever he stares at your photo, it looks like you're lovingly gazing back at him— and it gets him fucking hard.

Johnny once left his phone behind, for whatever reason, and Simon waited a solid minute, (60) seconds, before he picked it up, and took out his own phone to take a picture of you.

Simon wanked himself raw that night, his thick cum splattering over his screen, over your face. His refractory period that night was nonexistent.

And when Johnny one day was on the phone with you? When Johnny said, "Simon's here too, hen. Say hello." The way your melodic voice said his name? His cock was achingly hard within seconds, and he shifted around uncomfortably, willing for it to disappear.

It didn't. Simon walked with a wide gait, legs stiff, straight to the nearest bathroom and took himself in his hand. He gripped his long, thick length tight, and when he closed his eyes, he squeezed even harder, almost painfully. His tip was an angry red, from how tight he held himself, and that's how snug he imagined your undoubtedly pretty pussy would be around him.

He had to clench his jaw— grit his teeth hard, to keep the pathetic whimpers from escaping. Simon leaked pre-cum like a juvenile, stringy like egg whites, all over his knuckles and he hadn't even started pumping yet.

When someone knocked on the door, the snarl he let out was feral, a "Fuck off" so nasty, no one disturbed him again until he came with his head tilted back, and the vision of you riding him behind his closed eyes.

And then in the comfort of his own quarters, he pulled up your picture again— a blurry, too zoomed-in photo of a photo, and rut into one of his pillows, again imagining it was you. He thought of you on your back, legs open invitingly and waiting for him to fill you. He imagined the delicious moans you'd breathe out in his ear, your nails digging into the expanse of his broad, scarred back. He imagined your walls fluttering around him, the tell-tale sign of your upcoming climax, and you'd squeeze him so bloody tight when you finally did come, he'd move to pull out because there's no way he's not finishing with you. But you, you'd wrap your legs around his waist, and cross your ankles— effectively keeping him inside of you.

He'd cum on the spot, because you were effectively giving him your permission to finish inside. You'd rhythmically clench your walls to milk him dry, to take all of his seed.

And when his warped, fucked mind imagined you whispering an 'I love you' on his lips, he actually came, and he whimpered.

Simon's hips stuttered as his cock twitched and spasmed, spurting thick globs of cum all over his pillow, his bed. His breath came in shaky pants, his heart slamming against his ribcage.

After he stopped shaking, and was able to move his limbs, he cleaned his mess up shamefully, the post-nut clarity hitting hard, and as he switched bedsheets, he saw his phone light up with a notification.

Bonnie just sent this picture. Doesn't she look cute?

It was you holding a cup of iced coffee, and what stood out to him the most was your brightly colored nails.

He touched himself to the thought of those manicured hands wrapped around his cock, as you took him in your mouth 10 minutes later.

this was my inspo for this simon

@pieckyghost i really only have porn on my mind :( pussy on my mind, tighter than a headband.

[coolyiooo]

BSD Men : When They Have A Wet Dream About You

Pairings: Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Atsushi, Chuuya, and Sigma

❗WARNINGS❗: SMUT, MDNI, wet dream, breeding kink, moaning, masturbating, arousal, groaning, moaning, public, praise and etc

Summary :They all start off with the wet dreams. They simply just have a huge crush on you

🖤DAZAI🖤

It would've been another normal day at the office if it weren't for you jumping on his cock. Nobody else was in the office, but anybody could've walked in at any moment. Dazai was sitting on his chair while you straddled his lap. Your tight walls were soaking his cock. You felt like heaven. If he relaxed even a little, he would cum instantly. He had to try his best to hold it in.

He couldn't help but moan and whimper. One of his hands was gripping onto your ass and the other was on your clothed breast. Your hands were messing up his hair and clenched tightly on his shoulders. Your moans made it hard for him to hold himself back from bending you over his desk. He wanted to fuck you vigorously.

"How were you worried about getting caught if your moaning this loudly~? Ngh~! So tight~" he moans

"I can't hold on much longer~ mmn~! god, I've never felt this good, Dazai~" you moaned

When you moaned his name, he almost came right then and there. He felt his orgasm and he was feeling a bit desperate. Using his hands, he made your hips move faster to quicken the pace. You moaned louder "Then cum on my cock, bella~ agh~! You feel too good~ I'm gonna cum so much~!" He whimpers

Both of your moans became louder and a couple more seconds later you came together.

Suddenly Dazai wakes up. He gasps a moan as he cums on his pants. His clenches tightly on his futon while gently arching his back. Ecstacy washed over his entire body. His body was hot and twitching from his climax. His cock throbbed aggressively inside his pants.

After he finished cumming, he was breathing heavily. His mind was blank, but as he calmed down from his orgasm, he remembered his dream about you. He wished it was real. He wish he could kiss, touch, feel you. It was like he needed you. Maybe he's only thinking this way because his mind is a little fogged up from suddenly waking up. He cleaned himself up before going back to bed. It took him a long time to go back to sleep because he couldn't stop thinking about you and the dream.

In the morning, he got up to get ready for work. He was still thinking about the dream. It felt too real to just forget about it. When he arrived at the office, he noticed that you weren't there yet. Since he didn't sleep well last night, he decided to sleep on his desk for a couple of minutes.He was woken up by someone shaking him awake

"Dazai, get up" you said in a soft voice

When he heard your voice, his mind went straight to how you moaned in his dream. He jolted a bit before looking at you

"Kunikida told me to tell you to do you work. Do you think I need to help you with your papers, again?" You asked him while raising an eyebrow and sounded slightly annoyed

He kept staring at you for a couple seconds. His cheeks had a small tint of pink. It didn't help that your hand was on his shoulder just like it was when he was dreaming about you "There's nothing I'd like more, Bella, but first I must go to the bathroom" he gave you a warm smile before he rushed off to the bathroom. You just looked him confused

When he made it to one of the stalls, he palmed his erection. Why did you have such a huge impact on him? His hands were moving on their own as his right hand began to stroked his cock. He wanted to stop but he also didn't. It felt too good. Images of the dream popped into his head, only fueling to his arousal and pleasure. He was panting quietly, trying not to be loud.

His hand was stroking his cock aggressively. He was so desperate to cum. He imagined fucking you like he did in his dream and cumming inside you. He didn't last very long after the thought of it. It wasn't even five minutes before he came. Cum was spilling out of his dick. His cock was Throbbing against his hand as he gasps. His cock was covered in his own cum, except, he only wished that it was covering your walls instead.

He walked back in the office to see you already doing some of his paper. You pulled up a chair next to his chair. He sat down and pretended nothing happened. He looked at you with a smile "if not doing my work makes you sit next to me, I might just never do it"

You rolled your eyes with a smile" I believe you, and because of that I'm never helping you again after today"

He gasps dramatically "that's so mean! But you said the same thing yesterday" he smirks while resting his head on his hand "do you have something to tell me?" He teases

You smirked and leaned towards him. His eyes widen slightly and his smirk went away. You rested your hand on his thigh which made him twitch. You chuckled softly before saying "You fucking wish"

You took your hand away and went back to doing his papers. He was dazed as fuck. He whined "don't play with my heart like that, bella" he cross his legs to hide his new erection, cursing himself.

You laughed "well, hurry up and finish your papers, idiot"

It's an understatement to say he's obsessed with you. He really hopes one day you can call him yours and he can call you his.

💚RANPO💚

He doesn't know how, but you were in his apartment and you were both on the bed. You were on top of him and riding him in a desperate way. His head fell all the way back, exposing his neck and Adams apple. His hands gripped your hips and digging his nails into your skin. His moans were loud but his whimpers showed desperation and how much pleasure he was feeling.

Your moans only made him tremble and closer to his release. "So amazing~ ah~! you feel amazing~!" You moaned

"I cant get enough of you~ mmn~! J-just like that, y/n~!" You suddenly jumped on his cock more quickly and rough. Pure ecstacy flowed throughout his body. You moaned louder and tightened more around him. "Y-y-yes~ ah~! don't stop~! I-im- gonna c-c-cum~!" He whimpered loudly

"Me too~! Mmn~ This feels so good~!" You moaned

His cock couldn't handle the pleasure of being around your walls anymore and came inside you. He arched his back and whimpered loudly. You did the same and came with him. His whole mind went blank for a couple of seconds. His breathing was shallow and his heart rate was quick. He suddenly woke up. It was morning and he was exhausted. He was beginning to move around, but felt something sticky in his pants. He looked down and saw the mess he made while he was asleep. He then remembered the dream he had of you and blushed.

He felt gross, not because of having a lewd dream but because of the gross feeling he made in his pants.He cleaned himself up and put on clean clothes to go to work. He was sitting at his desk and couldn't do anything besides think of you and eat his snacks. He stared blankly at his desk until you randomly threw some candy on his desk and slightly startled him.

"Thought you would like them" you simply said and gave him a smile

He looked at the candy and smiles "ooo~ someone's been thinking about me" he teases as he looks at you

"If anything, it looked like YOU were thinking about something or someone" you tilt your head at him "what were you thinking about?" You asked

He blushed since he couldn't tell you the truth. He began to whine "I'm simply bored!" He made an excuse

"That doesn't answer my question-" your sentence was cut off as he fake snores

You sighed and dead panned, but you just ruffled his hair and went back to your desk. When you ruffled his hair, he slightly leaned more into your touch. After the dream, he wanted to feel more of your touch. He wanted a real touch from you and not by some dream that his unconscious made for him. Before you left completely, he stopped fake snoring and said "give me a head scratch, y/n. That felt nice" he made another excuse

You chuckled "I'm guessing you haven't washed your hair and there's just a bunch of dandruff in it" you teased

He looked offended as you giggled at him "what are you talking about? Look at YOUR hair" he teased back

Now you looked offended "your hair is greasier than mine" you began to laugh

He smirked at you "you know that's not true. Compared to yours that is" he put his hands behind his head and laughed

You gave him an offended look, but he knew If he wanted you to scratch his head he'd have to apologize "I'm just kidding, y/n, but please scratch my head for the world's greatest detective" he smiled at you

You rolled your eyes playfully and smiled "just for a bit"

you began to scratch his head. He had a soft smile on his lips and sighed softly. He loved your touch. He felt at ease and comfortable when you did. You stopped scratching his head "now get to work" you smiled and walked away

He sighed and laid his head on the desk as if he was tired and bored, but he just didn't know what to do with himself besides just think about you, but he smiled to himself softly. Hes never felt so disappointed yet relaxed and happy. He didn't like this feeling, but for some reason, he couldn't help but think it also felt nice.

💜FYODOR💜

It was in the middle of the night. You sat on his desk with your legs spread apart and he was in-between them. His cock was feeling your tight, wet walls for the first time. His legs were slightly trembling. His body only felt immense pleasure. He fought the urge to cum by closing his eyes and focus on something else just for a few seconds. He gripped so harshly on your hips that he'd probably leave bruises there. You moaned softly while gripping onto his shoulders. Your hand was clenching his hair. He moaned softly as well

"amazing- ah~ oh, lyubov~" he had a soft smile on his face.

He loved seeing how good he was making you feel. He loved how you were both one. He loved this moment. "So good~ faster, Fyodor~" you moaned in a pleading way

He pressed his forehead against yours and chuckled softly. His pace became faster and you both moaned louder. Your walls tightened and twitched around his cock. He was deep inside you and hitting all the right places. You arched your back as he kissed your neck "so beautiful~ your mine now, love~" he moans against your skin

"I-im- going to- c-cum~!" You moaned

"Me too, love~ ngh~ don't hold back~" He went faster and just as he was about to cum, he wakes up while breathing heavily. He cums in his pants as he gasps. He closed his eyes and felt the ecstacy go throughout his body. When he finished, he was panting heavily and slowly remembered the dream. He sighed from slightly being disappointed in himself. He got up and out of bed. He realized it was 3 am and decided to go take a cold shower.

It was morning now. He was working on his monitors and you saw him. He seemed to be focused as you walked towards him. "Good morning, Fedya"

He realized that you were there and looked at you with his normal calm face "good morning, y/n" he looked at you as you walked towards him

"Have you been working all night again?" You sigh slightly disappointed in him as you begin to sit on his desk

He noticed you sitting on his desk and remembered that that's where you were sitting when he dreamed of you last night, but he ignored it "I couldn't sleep"

You hum in response, understanding his reason, but you smirk "were you dreaming about me weren't you?" You joke

His eyes widen slightly but he decided to joke along too "wouldn't you like to know" he teases

You chuckle "how rude, and I was going to make you breakfast, but I guess you don't deserve it" you get off the desk

He chuckles "I'd appreciate it if you did"

You sigh to pretend your annoyed "I guess I will" but before you left you kept looking at Fyodor's face.

You noticed how tired he look and he looked back at you He didn't say anything but was curious as to why you were staring at him. You tilted Fyodor's chin up slightly to get a better look at him. He looked at you with a slight surprised look. "you need some sleep, Fedya. After you eat, go sleep" you told him softly. You just cared about his health

You walked away and left him slightly Flustered. He smiled to himself softly . He loved your touch and how you cared about him. It seemed like this crush wasn't going to die down any time soon.

💙ATSUSHI 💙

You were underneath him. Your hands were on his back and his forehead was on your shoulder. His hands struggled to hold himself up from the overwhelming pleasure. He moaned loudly but so were you. Your moans were beautiful. It was a way of you telling him that he was doing a good job at satisfying you. Your skin was soft and your body was perfect just like you. Your walls made him unable to think about anything else besides you. His pace was fast but gentle. Your legs were wrapped around his hips to feel him deeper inside you. Every touch you made on his skin was just pure pleasure to him because he was sensitive.

"Your so beautiful~ mmn~! how did I get so lucky?" He whimpered

You put a hand on the back of his head "this feels good~ ngh~ don't stop~" you moaned

His pace became faster and a bit rougher. He wanted to treat you gently and give you a perfect experience. You arched your back slightly and scratched his back gently. You kissed his neck and shoulders lovingly as if you truly admired him and his body.

"Your doing good~ mmn~ just like that, Atsushi~" you moaned against his skin He gasps slightly

"Your so perfect~ ah~ i- can't hold on anymore~" he whimpered

"Me too~ ah~ don't stop~" you pleaded

His thrusts became faster. The pleasure was unbearable for him now as he lost his limit and came and you soon came with him. Your body's were trembling and your hearts were pounding. You moaned loudly and he was in pure ecstacy.

He opened his eyes and was sweaty. He saw it was morning, but he felt gross and sticky. He looked down and saw a wet stain in his pants and immediately remembered the dream. He felt disappointed and embarrassed. He quickly got up and changed and put his dirty clothes in a washing machine. He even took a quick shower to clean himself before work.

He made it to work and started to do some papers on his desk. He noticed that you weren't there yet. After a couple of minutes he heard "good morning, Atsushi" you smile at him

He jumps at bit and blushes slightly "o-oh g-good morning, y/n" he stutters

He couldn't even look at you, but you didn't pay much attention to that. You noticed how red Atsushi was and got concerned for him "are you alright, Atsushi? Your cheeks are red" you tilted your head

He couldn't be blushing because you did literally nothing, right? He blushed more and looked at you "u-uh yes! I promise you I'm ok" he stammered a bit and afraid he was gonna make it obvious

"Are you sure? Do you have a fever?" You gently put your hand on his forehead to feel his temperature Your touch made him blush even more

"i-i I'm sure, thank you!" He grabbed your hand and placed it on the desk. He still didn't make any eye contact with you

"did I do something wrong?" You asked worried

He looked at you shocked. He was finally making eye contact with you "n-no! It's just- i- " he looked away for a second "I've just been ... Stressed" he made a small excuse

You looked at him with a bit of worry "then...let's go out after work. You deserve to have your mind free of whatever makes you stressed...if that's ok" you asked

He looked at you and blushed. You seemed to really care about him "i- I'd love to" he smiled softly

"We can buy some tea on rice. You love those right?" You smiled back

He looked at you with so much appreciation. How did you remember that he loved tea on rice? He gave you a warm smile "I'd love that" He loved how you appreciate him, notice his abilities, and comfort him when he can't do so himself. He can't thank you enough for everything you've done and made him feel. He really does like you

🧡CHUUYA🧡

You were both in his apartment a d on his bed. You were on top of him and jumping in his cock. His head was on the pillow and his back slightly arched. His eyes were closed and a small smile was on his lips as he moaned. You were finally where he wanted you to be and you seemed to be made for him. His hands rested on your thighs. Your hands were on his chest to keep yourself balanced. Your moans were so beautiful and such a turn on for him. He couldn't stop looking down at where you two are connected and how well he fits inside you. Everything is perfect.

"God, your so beautiful~ ngh~ I've been waiting for this for so long~" he groans

You chuckle softly "I've been waiting for you too~ ah~ this feels amazing~" you moaned as your pace became quicker

He suddenly flipped you over and got on top of you. He kissed your neck and started pounded into you. You gasp a moan and clawed his back. He thought you were so cute like this. He couldn't hold back anymore. He couldn't handle your tight walls anymore

"F-fuck~! I'm gonna cum~ y/n, I can't~" he groans as he struggles to hold on a little longer

"Im at my limit too~ mmn~ t-too good~!" You moaned

After a few more thrusts, he came inside you. His body was overwhelmed by peak pleasure and his arms were trembling. You came with him and both moaned loudly. He woke up in his bed slightly sweaty and hot. He felt sticky and wet in his pants. He looked under his blanket to see a wet spot on them. He felt disgusted yet disappointed, but only because he wished the dream was real. He went to clean himself and went to work.

You and him were partners for a mission Mori sent you both on and he seemed a bit more extreme. He seemed more pissed off and annoyed at the thugs you two had to deal with. He basically beat the shit out of them in less than a second and seemed to be in a rush when there was no need to be. He couldn't even look at you in the eye, hell, even in the morning he seemed to not necessarily ignore you, but he seemed to have something in his mind.

After the mission you finally spoke up. You were walking beside him "Is there something bothering you, Chuuya?" You asked with concern in your tone

He jumped a bit when you finally spoke, but he just sighed "yeah, is it that noticable?" He was honest

You giggled softly "You just seem more pissed off than usual today"

He looked at you confused "what does that mean?"

You laughed "well, whats been on your mind?" You asked curiously

He blushed and looked away from you "nothing important"

You rolled your eyes, not believing his words. You threw small punches on his shoulder "your lying" you whined slightly

He scoffed and rolled his eyes "well, I was just pissed because I wanted something to be real but it wasn't"

You didn't exactly get what he was saying "what do you mean?"

He stopped walking "you know when you want something but your too afraid to reach for it?" He asked softly while looking ahead of him and then looked at you. His eyes were soft and kind

You blushed slightly and thought about his words "I know exactly how you feel"

He blushed a little more. The way you looked at him made him think you were so cute. He looked away from you and you chuckled softly

You nudged him gently with your elbow "let's go out to drink! It's all on me" you wink at him playfully with a smile

He laughed a bit "alright, if you insist"

He would never admit it but he liked it when you nudged him or punched him gently. He always thought it was cute and he didn't mind the physical contact either. He realized it was a bit cold outside since the sun was setting and you didn't have a jacket or long sleeve. You were hugging yourself to try to warm up your body, but he then puts his jacket around your shoulders. You looked at him blushing.

He was blushing slightly while looking away "you idiot, why didn't you bring a coat?"

You laughed a little "thank you, in fact, good luck getting this back" you teased and smiled brightly

You two were bickering after that, but he loved these kinds of moments. He seemed happy with where his relationship with you is at, at the moment, but he hopes it soon becomes more.

💛SIGMA💛

You were both in the sky casino inside his office. You were sitting on top of his desk and he was pounding into you. Your foreheads were pressed against each other. He was panting and softly moaning and so were you. His eyes were closed as he was trying to focus more of the pleasure of your wet, tight walls and how it stroked his cock way better than he expected.Your arms were wrapped around him and his were on your hips. Your legs wrapped around his to push him deeper inside you and to keep him closer. He then put his hands on his desk and began to scrape the wood with his nails, leaving scratch marks on it.

He then suddenly began to kiss your neck and collarbone "God, your so perfect~ mmn~ I want this to last forever~" he moans against your skin

You held the back of his head "it can, Sigma~ mmn~ your mine and I'm yours~" you moaned

His thrusts became rough and fast. His hips hitting against yours and making a loud clapping sound. You both moaned louder and gripped onto each other more harshly. He decided to kiss your lips passionately as he thrusts quickly. He was at him limit and he could tell that you were too. Your moans were muffled by the kiss, but they were getting louder and louder. After a few more seconds, you both came together.

He then abruptly wakes up from his dream. He feels a wave of pleasure come over him and clenches his hands against the sheets. It felt like heaven and pure bliss. He groans deeply and breaths heavily. After his orgasm, his mind was only thinking about the dream. He felt disgusted with himself in more ways than one. He also didn't like that he had to change his clothes and clean himself up. He felt sweaty and tired from the intense climax and decided to get out of bed to deal with the mess he made.

It was finally morning and you noticed that Sigma seemed to be ignoring you. He doesn't want to but he can't even look at you in the eye without his body having a reaction whenever he does. He would have a hint of blush on his cheeks whenever he saw you and walked the other way. By the end of the day, you decided to go to his office and confront him. It wasn't out of the norm to just randomly walk into his office to chat with him since you were both just that close to eachother.

You walked into the office and saw him look immediately uncomfortable when he saw you "u-um what are you doing here? You can't be here I'm really busy-" he says slightly panicking

You ignored his words and just spoke up "did I do something wrong? If I did please tell me" you asked worried and nervously

He looked at you surprised, but then he looked away with embarrassment. He looked away "n-no, you didn't do anything wrong" he says softly

"Then why have you been ignoring me?" You were genuinely asking

He looks at you surprised again and then just sighs "I just- I didn't want to-" he couldn't make up an excuse, but then he saw you and you seemed really devastated.

He then gets up towards you and grabs your hands gently "I promise you, I'm not mad at you and you did nothing wrong...I'm sorry, for making you worry" he sounds genuine

He stared at your hands while he said these words but then finally gained confidence to look into your eyes. He blushed more, but he wanted you to believe his words. You blushed and then looked at your hands that were being held by his.

He then quickly let go of them "s-sorry, I shouldn't have done that" he scratches the back of his head and looks away

you smiled and scoffed "it's fine, I didn't mind" He looks at you with blushed cheeks.

You looked back at him for a few seconds but then quickly looked annoyed and kicked his leg gently, but still make him wince in pain "don't scare me like that, idiot. I thought I did something to hurt you and you just wanted to ignore me. Just tell me you don't like me"

He widen his eyes "n-no! That's not it! I really like you- I mean- not like that, but you know what i mean-" he sighs deeply trying to calm down "I'll make it up to you" he said calmly and seriously

You punched his shoulder gently "you better. You got me scared for nothing"

He sighs in a relaxed manner "of course, I'm sorry again "

You smiled softly "just.. don't do it again"He smiled back at you.

He liked thought you didn't mind touching his hands and that you seem to genuinely care about the friendship you two have. He hopes one day he can actually call you his

[shoyoist]

── 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 : hinata shoyo.

content: fem!reader. public sεx in the back booth of a cafe. dirty thoughts, teasing, fingering, a little overstimulation, shoyo is a liiittle mean but he's just so eager to have you!! mentioned pussy eating at the end.

— . ｡˚ ♡ you just can't wait to have shoyo's fingers in you. and neither can he.

one of the first things you notice about hinata when you meet up with him after his years away in brazil, is that his hands are big.

he'd already been growing taller and filling out when he left — but that was nearly three years ago, and seeing him for the first time after so long felt like a dream — because despite looking the same, he also looked just that different. it wasn't just his hands, really — he was big. 

his neck was thicker, the expanse between his shoulder and neck offering much more space for your arms than it used to, as you wrapped them around his neck in a hug. his arms, his chest, his stomach, as they press against yours in the embrace, they feel bigger, more muscular than you remembered.

but what you notice the most, what would be a subtle change compared to everything else — is that his hands are so big. maybe because you hadn't seen his hands properly in any of the pictures he'd sent you, but it was the most surprising change about him.

his fingers that just used to be long and lithe, are now thicker — knuckles tough and edges calloused, the backs of them rosy and tanned and the palms hard and smooth, pink at the rounder points.

and as he holds your hands in his, gives you a smile that pours love and longing and happiness and tender adoration into you as he tells you, “hi, baby. i missed you.” — all you can think about is that you want your pussy stuffed with those fingers of his.

and eventually — because he is after all, your beloved shoyo that would do anything for you — you tell him.

hand in hand, walking the distance from your place to the café you used to frequent together, you tell him that his hands are so nice. 

his fingers are so thick (“look! see how big they are compared to mine?”) and then while you're talking to each other over cups of coffee, you finally tell him — albeit slyly and mostly as a tease, you admit that you want his fingers in your cunt.

what you don't expect is for him to immediately oblige.

you're sitting together at the very last booth of the small, cozy little cafe, away from all the windows and concealed from clear view — and you'd thought it'd be cute to fluster him with a dirty little comment, and get him hooked for when you both get home.

but when you tell him, “they'd feel so nice curling deep into my pussy, don't you think?” hinata stares at you for only a few seconds — before he has you pressed against the back of the booth, one legged hooked over his knees and the other dangling over the edge of the seat as he forces your legs open.

“mhm,” he giggles at your wide eyed, stunned expression, wrapping a muscled arm around you and adjusting your position so effortlessly, as his other hand slides past the waistband of your skirt to palm at your clothed cunt. “let's see how it feels, then. oh — pretty pussy's wet already, huh? missed me much?”

you're too dazed by the contact and the delicious feel of his touch on your clit to form words and tell him yes, yes yes you missed him so fucking much, more than he knows — but you think you missed him more than even you know.

his eyes are brighter than you remember as well, you see as you blink up to meet his gaze— 

his body language, his confidence, it's so different compared to how he was before.

you'd only gotten together in your third year of highschool, and really you'd only fucked once before he left for brazil — but you'd loved him long enough to know.

this isn't the same hinata that you kissed good-bye at that train station years ago.

correction: he is the same — but he's also more. 

you stare, stars in your eyes — and he gives you a handsome, rogueish grin as he slips two digits under your panties and into the slick mess of your hole, like he knows every single thing he's doing to you right now.

to your body, to your mind, to your soul.

it's overwhelming enough, to have the love of your life return home to you after more than two years of being so, so far away from you.

overwhelming enough to see that he has changed so very much, to see that suddenly the sunny, sweet boy you'd fallen in love with has become a fire, a hot searing flame that's ready to sweep you off your feet and singe you, burn you with his kisses and his touch.

but right now, you can't even think clearly about it all — because fuck, fuck, fuck, he's sliding his fingers into you, and it feels even better than you thought it would.

“sh—shoyo,” you whimper, cheek pressed to his chest as he shields your body with his, just in case. “wait, wait — didn't mean right now, i—”

“hush,” he hums into your ear, thumb gliding up to find your clit, and when he presses into the sensitive bud, you can only obey and hush — pressing your lips shut tight to prevent the gasp of pleasure that builds in your throat from getting away.

the café had been pretty quiet and peaceful when you'd both walked inside, and even as you ordered from the counter and brought your trays to the back booth — but suddenly, you're so afraid that people might come and see. afraid that a waiter might come over and see.

“sho—” you try, but he shushes you again, and you feel so hot, it's all so sudden you can't think.

“couldn't wait, sunshine, 'm sorry.” he mumbles into your hair, pulling you even closer, and you feel a little cramped as he tugs your legs even further apart, fingers sliding knuckle-deep into you. “was thinking things the whole time, you're so gorgeous now, can't wait when you're so hot.”

“i—” you whimper again, grabbing his shirt and curling it in your fist. “me too, shoyo, me too.” there's an impatience in the both of you that was hardly satiable when kept apart from eachother, but now, with the two of you like this, there's no way to keep it at bay.

the stretch of his fingers in your cunt is impossible. so much compared to your own fingers, so hot and hungry compared to the toys you use (ones he'd bought and sent home to you during his time in brazil).

he fucks his digits into you like he's been dying to do this to you, like he's desperate to hear those pretty sounds you make in his ear again, like he's been thirsting to make you cum like this forever.

you're going to hit your orgasm so quick, you can already feel it.

you're going to cum slumped in the back booth of this little café, that you'd visited so long ago on your first date with hinata. this little café where you'd first kissed him. this little café where you'd had a valentine's day brunch with him, just two months before he left.

“shoyo,” you can't help the moan that slips out, pussy only clenching around harder his digits when you see the way his eyes cloud with lust upon hearing your voice. “shoyo, shoyo — gonna cum.”

you hope nobody hears you — and you hope that if they did, they'll stay the fuck away and mind their own business, and let hinata take care of you.

you need it. he's so warm, so hot, and he's fucking you so good with just his fingers — thumb rolling your clit just fucking right while he curls his fingers into your velvet walls, giggling under his breath when your pussy squelches messily each time. 

“that's right, baby,” he coos, kissing your hair. “cum for me. nice and hard, mkay? else we might hafta try again.”

his voice cracks so well at just the right moment as he says it — and you don't know if it's the zap of need that courses through you at the sound of his voice breaking, or if it's just the bliss he's giving you with his fingers that makes you cum instantly, but you do.

your pussy wraps around his fingers so tight — your own hand flying up to clamp over your mouth and muffle your cry, as your body finally unfreezes and you crash into your high.

knees knocking together and squeezing hinata's arm between your legs, you fall lax against the leather seating of the booth — cushioned by his body because he still has his other arm secured around you — and you cum. “fuck, shoyo.”

“that's good,” hinata encourages, his whisper hot in the shell of your ear. “fuck, so messy. so messy, baby, how do we clean you up?”

you can't help it — and he's making it worse, curling his fingers in, knuckles digging into your walls as he tries to go even deeper, never relieving the pressure he's out on your clit, god— “shoyo, fuck, fuck.” you’re afraid you might shatter into a million pieces right there on the damn seat. you haven’t had someone else touch you in a long time, and getting an orgasm ripped from you like this is almost too much. “sho—shoyo, please.”

“please, what?” he giggles, still unrelenting, like he’s missed having you like this, like he really can’t be a good boy and wait until you get back home before he eats you up and makes you his girl all over again, for the first time in years.

“not here,” you say breathlessly, gulping down the cry of pleasure that springs up your throat when he lets go of your clit for a moment, only to flick his thumb at the ravenous bud again. “not here, please. i can’t—”

“can’t what?” he asks, almost impatient. he bites at your ear, and you feel so fucking hot, so dizzy with pleasure, but you can’t. not in the back booth of a god damn café, where you could just be caught with MSbY’s newest outside hitter fitting his fingers into your starving little cunt.

you grab his wrist and tug, giving him the most serious look you can with all the stars in your eyes. “can’t be like this, shoyo. not here. please? wanna go home. want you in me. at home.”

his lips pull downwards into a disappointed pout, but he only presses his body closer to you, hot and heavy, his weight so new on you. “you promise t’ let me fuck you like this in your bed then?”

the fact that he can make you blush harder with a few words even as he’s got your pussy full of his fingers is astounding, really. but you feel your face heat up as you nod, telling him you promise. you need it more than him. you need him so, so fucking bad.

with a delighted laugh, shoyo pulls away, almost too quickly and you’re forced to stifle the needy whine you want to let out because you know he’ll be on you again in no time if you act like that. he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking on your slick, eyes dulling with lust as he gets a taste of you. “let’s go, then. we can have this date later.”

“wh—what about our food?” you can’t even ask before he’s getting up and pulling you to your feet. he gives you a quick kiss, and your eyes widen when you taste yourself on him. god, it’s almost embarrassing.

“i’ll pay for it now, we’ll tell them we’re coming back in a bit.” he grins at you, taking you by the waist and pulling you up against him. “i can think of something else i’d like to eat right now.”

by the glint in his eyes and the lingering taste in your mouth, you know exactly what he means the instant he says it. and you can’t help but blush again. god, he’s such a fucking charmer. “mm, alright. let’s go then.”

“that’s my girl.”