#Something about having all day to get to know my table-neighbours

[ssentimentals]

hi! nini! i really liked how u write scoups promptsss… can i request for scoups 25 & 37 suggestive? i feel like this could go together. thank u, nini! have a great day! ><

hihi! aw, thank you!! i do think that cheol is the member that i find easier to write because in my delulu mind i think i get him correctly the most out of all guys :D thank you for requesting and have a great day too! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

suggestive prompt: 'sit down. now.' - 'watch your tone.'

oh, the urge to stand up, throw pillows from sofa to the ground and storm away with a head held high. oh, the urge to slam the door so loudly that windows will shake and all neighbours will startle in surprise. oh, the urge to hear seungcheol's answering groan and see his pissed off face. those urges are so strong that you almost make them all come true. almost. because when you spring up from the sofa, breathing fire from anger, seungcheol grabs your wrist before you can even do anything else and looking you into the eyes mutters darkly: 'sit down. now.'

his commanding tone never fails to send shivers up your spine, but you ignore it, sitting back down on the sofa. but a proud warrior doesn't go down without a fight, so you snark: 'how tables have turned, right? now you understand what it felt like last time, when you tried to leave? not so nice, does it?'

seungcheol narrows his eyes, squinting at you with a barely hidden annoyance. 'can you shut up for a second and let me talk?'

this time you glare at him, shaking his hand off your wrist. 'watch your tone, cheol. and don't tell me to shut up.'

seungcheol looks like he's not sure whether he wants to kiss you senseless to shut you up or if walking away right now seems to be a better decision. his left eye twitches and you try hard not to laugh, but he of course, notices. 'is all of this funny to you?' he asks, sliding up closer to you. 'you find this amusing?'

'i find you idiotic,' you retort haughtily, ignoring how he places his hand at your back. 'and very stupid.'

'good to know.' seungcheol hums, caressing your back gently and smirking, when you lean to the touch just a little. 'anything else you want to comment?'

smile wins over your features, when he cages you with his weight, not giving you any opportunities to run. locking your hands behind his neck, you pretend to think hard about it. 'hm, let's see. i think you're a sore loser, who can't bear to lose a fight to his girlfriend.'

seungcheol snorts and shakes his head. he leans in, kissing your forehead. 'what else?'

he starts peppering your whole face with kisses and you forget your train of thought; some really comebacks were ready but now your head is full of something else. 'you're even bigger idiot than i thought if you won't take me to bed now,' you settle for this at last, flushing from his intense gaze.

seungcheol smiles and lifts you up along with him, making you laugh with his: 'good thing i'm not a big idiot then.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[monster-noises]

I have spoken before on my trouble trying to do the thing where i Show Up to things and... Actually successfully follow through on the next step of Making Connections and a big biiig part of that that i'm going to vomit onto my blog about today is that I just

Mmmm

I simply have No Thoughts and that makes having conversations very! Very hard!

Now this isn't a~silly quirky~ like "No Thoughts Head Empty uwu" thing

What I'm struggling with when i'm trying to talk to people, usually strangers or people I've just met but this can and does stretch to people i've known for y e a r s too,

is that they will say something; express an opinion, tell me about something, give story about their life, you know, the things you have conversations about and in response my brain just Goes Silent.

and it's not that I'm not listening, I'm actually really good at the Listening part of having a conversation, but if the person I'm trying to talk to does not go off on some long diatribe or ask me a very specific question to formulate a response around...

it's radio static! it's a soft and thoughtless buzz maybe sometimes permeated by a vague feeling associated with what they were saying that, really, forms no basis for a response beyond basic platitudes.

I'd Love to say that like "Well actually I Do have thoughts but I'm so anxious about embarrassing myself I just can't voice them" but I dunno! because if it's that I probably wouldn't be writing this post because That's something I can Work On. I know what to do with something like That. This isn't!!!! That Though!! Experiencing this in real time in a conversation doesn't Feel like my other experiences with anxiety and nervousness, where I feel like physically held back or barricade from participating in the way I Want to. The thoughts would be there I just wouldn't be able to Voice them.

But there Are No Thoughts. It's a cold and silent wind blowing over a dark and dusty barren field, it's white noise static on a screen occasionally permeated with enough of an emotional reaction and recognition that I have to do Something to generate.. generic platitudes that don't really go anywhere.. (Though sometimes, Sometimes, like 10-20 minutes later, when I'm on my own again and Ruminating on fumbling Yet Another attempt to Participate and reach out, I'll be able to think of good engaging and charismatic responses I Could have used. Perhaps suggesting this Is a very extreme form of this anxiety where the nerves are screaming So loud it drowns out all else, which would explain why I can kinda get over this when having text conversations it just takes me about Ten Million Years to formulate a response.) And that's like... what the hell do I Do... about that. ? All the solutions I can come up with involve... having had thoughts. Which doesn't really help because again, it's not having thoughts but struggling to translate or release them, there is nothing there to release. Just silence, just static, vacant gaping hole where my brain should be.

I had a good chance to maybe form some connections with local comics artists via a zine fest today at the library but I was in and out in like ten minutes maybe less because I 1) only had like 20 bucks and that wasn't enough and I have Other Issues dealing with standing at someones table and then not buying anything, it makes me Feel Bad. and 2) Just could not hold a conversation to save my life! There were at least a few people there that I did stop buy a little bit I would have loved to have longer talks with and we'd probably hit it off but my brain blanked out and I nodded politely as they told me what was on there table, sweated a little bit in silence, bought something quickly and then ran away!! like!

Fuck man! I know I'm more of a person than that inside! but it sometimes it really doesn't feel like it! sometimes it really feels like I'm an animated husk with ideas above his station just kinda wandering around and sometimes stumbling into things sideways enough people think I'm a complete person! With this zine fest at least I know it's a local thing so I can try a different strategy of just Being There Physically often enough that people start to recognize me even if I don't say much which will ease the tension I guess?? Still strangers but not Complete strangers you know? For anything else though Idk what I'm going to do...

[knightjpg]

Brick by Brick

You have his favourite tea on hand. You ask him what he'd like for dinner this weekend. One time you opened the door for him within seconds of buzzing, like you'd been as eager for his visit as he was.  And maybe most devastating of all: you routinely start making too much food for even Simon to finish. 

tags: 🔞construction worker simon/neighbour reader, unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), size kink, brief mention of simon's childhood abuse

part 1 | part 2

After that things shift, just a little. You still sit with Simon while he works, handing him tools he teaches you the names of; still try to convince him to get pay for his work around the house. 

But you have his favourite tea on hand. You ask him what he'd like for dinner this weekend. One time you opened the door for him within seconds of buzzing, like you'd been as eager for his visit as he was. 

And maybe most devastating of all: you routinely start making too much food for even Simon to finish. 

“Thought you might want some leftovers for lunch,” you tell him, holding out two tupperware boxes. “If you're working those long hours you have to eat right, you know?” 

When Simon opens them at home, just before tucking them away in his work bag for tomorrow, his chest clenches. It's not just leftovers. There's dried beef jerky, a pack of crackers that go well with coffee, and a fist-sized chunk of banana bread. And— 

A little note. 

His heart hammers against his chest when he unfolds it. It's nearly dark out, crickets chirping soft and low somewhere beneath the window. The only sound in his kitchen is the ticking of a clock. 

Good luck today! Don't work too hard :)  

“Christ,” he mumbles, fingers tracing over the ink. Pretty. Like you. Like every fucking thing you do. 

Summer is nearing its end, and Simon is running out of excuses. Part of him feels proud to see the house shape up to the best it can be, but over the months the boxes have nearly all disappeared. He knows—has helped you unpack God knows how many books. Helped you put together a new bookcase, even. 

But if he's no longer useful, what's keeping you from closing your door on him? Dread rises sharp and fast in Simon's throat when he thinks about a dark, cold home waiting for him as his only company. He passes your door on the way home, more often than not sees your silhouette against the warm light of your window. Illuminating the hard dirty edges of him.  

You've started feeding him, this big mean watchdog, and he might choke on his leash if you stop now. 

“Hello, what is that?”   

Simon sharply yanks his lunch away from Johnny's grabby paws.  

“None f’your business.” 

“Is that bloody banana bread? You've got to be fuckin’ me.” 

“That's homemade,” Kyle says unhelpfully from just behind Simon's shoulder. 

“Piss off,” Simon grumbles. 

Johnny does not, of course, piss off. Instead he grins, cheeky and wide. “Didn't know y’had a bird, Simon.” 

“Fuck,” Kyle groans. “Is that roast beef? That smells so good. Where'd you get this?” 

Johnny snorts. “More like who's he blackmailin'.” 

Simon glowers at Johnny, then says through a mouthful, “My girl.” 

If there'd been any hope of them dropping it, it's gone now. Simon realises his mistake as soon the words leave his mouth and Kyle and Johnny light up.  

They're incessant. Dog him at every opportunity—who is she? What's her name? What's she look like? Show us a photo, Simon, dinnae be so selfish. 

Simon suffers it for a week until he slams his gloves on Price's table and threatens someone's going to end up in the cement mixer by the end of the day if he doesn't do something about it. 

They quiet down after that, though they can't help but ask after you every now and then—even Price, who despite his congratulatory shoulder clap admits he wishes he had a sweet thing of his own. 

And the lunches keep going. As do the notes, every one of which Simon keeps carefully tucked away in a box at home. He didn't find one last night, and he suppresses the wave of disappointment. Maybe you forgot. Maybe you were just tired, and maybe he's grown too comfortable with your casual affection. 

So when a little piece of paper that was stuck to the bottom of the lid flutters onto the ground the next day Simon is unprepared. The two seconds of surprise cost him—Johnny dives after it like a hawk and scoops it before it's barely touched the concrete. 

“You little shit—” 

Simon's at him immediately, and Johnny, delighted by what he thinks is a funny fucking little game, twists and dodges while fumbling the note open with one hand. 

“Looking forward to dinner tonight. Be safe today,” Johnny reads before Simon snatches it from him with a hard shove to his head. “Aww, Simon, you lucky shite. C’mon, give us one o’ those cookies, aye? If you're goin’ home to a candle lit dinner.” 

“Get your own cookies,” Simon huffs, and curls one arm around his tupperware protectively while he eats. 

Looking forward.   

So is he. 

- 

“Simon!” 

Simon whips his head around and catches you stepping out of your car with a wave. You've arrived home just after him today, and his breath catches in his throat when he sees your dress flutter prettily around your legs. 

You're dressed up all nice today—must've been at university, then. Simon doesn't know which he likes better: the shorts you wear at home or the glimpse of cleavage he gets when you wear a nice work blouse. 

His dick throbs when he holds his own hand up in greeting, hanging back just to get those few extra seconds with you.  

He's not sure why today is especially bad. Probably doesn't help that every time he jacks off in the shower you're the one he thinks of, imaging your pretty lips wrapped around his cock. It's hard to resist the indulgence after a long hard day of sweating and laying brick, then coming home and only getting to look, not touch. He doesn't want to stain you with his filth, but what's he supposed to do? He wants you. 

And his desire has sat festering in the confines of his rib cage for months. It curls his hands in tight fists so he doesn't reach for you by accident the way he does in his dreams, keeps him from leaning in to taste your lips to see if they're as sweet as your cobbler pies. 

“Alright?” he asks when you get closer. You feel off, distant, and when you nod it feels like it's more for his sake than for the truth of it. 

“Yeah. Um.” You adjust the strap of the bag on your shoulder, shifting on your feet. “I wanted to let you know I can't do dinner tomorrow. I'm, um, I have a date, so...” 

The spin of the world stutters for a second.  

Simon sucks in a quiet breath. “That so.” 

“Yeah.” You look up at him with a sad little smile. Not the kind of face you'd expect from someone who just scored a date, but Simon is too wrapped up in his misery to notice. “How was your day?” 

Normal. Unsuspecting. Good, even, until you told him some twat is taking you out to dinner.  

“Fine,” he hears himself say. Adds, “Watchin’ a match tonight.”  

An excuse—an out for both of you. You won't have to feel obligated to ask him if he'd like to come ‘round for a meal, and he won't have to pretend he doesn't feel like throwing up. 

“Go Manchester,” you reply with a smile. 

Just like Simon, they don't score. 

- 

He waits up for you. It's pathetic, really—that of all things this is what gets him to dig around for a pack of smokes. Been mostly clean ever since you moved in next to him, his half-hearted attempts to quit finally mounting up to something with real resolve. 

He doesn't want to taste nicotine when he eats your meals. 

Even threw out his lighter. Which means when he finds a crushed, dust-caked pack with only one cigarette in it behind his couch he has to light it with a match and shaky hands. 

It tastes awful. But it's familiar, and sometimes he craves the burn even when he sees his dad putting out his own cigs on Simon's legs behind his eyelids. 

The evening grows colder around him, late summer skies tinted with dark purples and blues. It's quiet in the neighbourhood. He's the only one out this late—everyone else has retreated to the comfort of their homes, ready to turn in for the night. 

It should feel peaceful, but all Simon feels is anxious and on edge. Not even the smoke calms his nerves. 

Should he back off, leave you to the happiness you deserve? Throw everything away in one last shot, ask to take you out like he's wanted to forever? 

Words are no good, but he's tried so desperately to show you that he'd do just about anything if you asked. To let you know that underneath his gruff silences he doesn't bite the hand that feeds him and that he'd rip anyone else to shreds for raising a finger against you. 

Simon's head lifts when his ears pick up the rumbling of a car. Is it...? 

It is. 

Lamplight flashes over the cobbled street, and then the rumble of the engine turns off with a click. 

You're alone—thank God. Simon doesn't know what he would've done if you'd taken your date home. 

You look worn out, and not the happy kind after a successful lay. Just tired—to the point where you almost don't notice him and jump when you do. You take a startled step back from his hulking silhouette leaning against the stone little fence curling around all the houses along the street you share, before pausing and asking in a soft voice: 

“Simon?” 

And because he's a masochist he asks, “Y’have fun?” 

He expects a yes. At best a non-committal shrug—at worst an enthusiastic smile. But you look down at your shoes, chew your lip, and say, “No.” A breath. “No. It was awful. He was a twat, and he tried to feel me up under the table, and he's been hounding me at university for months, and I got so sick of it I just said yes but now I'm going to have to email HR and ugh—!”  

Your voice breaks on the last sentence and you sniffle, turning your face away from Simon so you can give it a quick wipe with the back of your hand. 

He's up on his feet in an instant, trying to take slow breaths so he doesn't act on the overwhelming urge to hunt down the wankstain and crush his fingers so he can never fucking touch you again. Your dog bites without warning or remorse, and everything in him wants to show your sad excuse of a date just how sharp his teeth are. 

But he can't. You're hurting, and that's more important than breaking some bloke's nose. 

And so Simon tries for softness as much as he's capable of it, large scarred hand hesitantly landing on your shoulder. It's all the coaxing you need to lean into his touch, and when Simon shifts a little closer your head falls on his shoulder. He burns with a different kind of fire. 

“Sorry,” you sniffle. “I'm okay, I really am, it was just such a—such a—” 

“S’alright,” Simon rasps. He pets your hair and strokes your back with a clumsy touch, unsure of how far he should, can, is allowed to go. “Y’should've called me. Would've come t’pick you up, maybe sock him a new one.”  

He'd do more than that if you'd let him. He'd take you home and made sure the only time you cried was when he worked his fat cock inside you. 

Christ, he's going to hell. 

“I didn't want to bother you,” you say in a small voice. 

“Sweetheart. You're never botherin’ me.” You let out a shaky sigh, and Simon tucks your head under his chin a little more securely. “Woulda made sure y’got home safe.” 

It's quiet, then, save for the sound of a car driving away somewhere down the road. Simon doesn't say anything else. He doesn't want to break the spell that you're under. You feel so soft in his arms, his sweet bird, finally come home to where you belong. 

“I kept wishing it was you.” Your voice is so soft he almost doesn't catch it, but before he can process it you pull yourself out of his embrace, cursing under your breath. “Sorry. Sorry—forget I said that. I'm... I'm gonna go home.” 

Simon's hand shoots out and grabs your wrist. You stare at him with big wet eyes that has the pit of his stomach swoop low. 

“Y’wish it was me?” 

His voice is low and rough, strained with want. 

Your cheeks burn and you avert your eyes, though you don't pull your hand away. “Sorry. Ignore me, I'm just...” 

“I'll take you,” Simon says a little too quickly. “Anywhere you wanna go. Dinner. Movies.” He pauses, trying to remember what people do for fun. “The library.” 

There. You hiccup a little laugh, finally, and the beginnings of a smile tug at your mouth. 

“The library?” 

Simon smiles a little, too. “Anywhere you want,” he repeats. Even the fucking library. 

Your gaze drops to your hands, and you carefully turn your palm against his. “I think I'd like that.” 

Simon swallows and lets his fingers intertwine with yours. “Yeah?” 

“I don't really care where we go, though. If it's with you.” 

Jesus bloody Christ. 

“Okay,” Simon says, voice tight. “Alright. We'll—we'll figure it out. We'll go somewhere.” A breeze hits you as he says it, and you shiver. “...Right now let's just get you home.” 

You nod, the fatigue overtaking your features again. Simon walks you all the way to your door, squints against the night sensor he installed himself. 

You hover in the doorway before opening your mouth, closing it, then take a small step forward to rise on your toes. Simon's heartbeat kicks up under your hand where you steady yourself on his chest, and then he feels your lips press against his cheek. It's his bad one, the one with the nasty scar from a bar fight long ago. 

“Thanks,” you say softly. 

“Yeah,” he manages, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. “’Course.” 

The door closes with a soft click.  

- 

When you mention wanting to hike out on a trail nearby Simon, true to his word, makes it happen. It's not so bloody hot anymore and it's nice, hearing the birds chirp overhead. Nice to exist in a world where everything is washed in shades of mottled green, hearing the dirt crunch under his feet.  

It relaxes him. Makes his muscles untense. You promised him a picnic at the end of the trail, and to Simon's delight he succeeds in coaxing you to feed him bites of your homemade sandwiches in the midst of tall grass and meadow flowers. 

When you get home, sweat and sun lingering on your skin, Simon has full intentions of dropping you off at your doorstep and wishing you a good night. Maybe get another kiss if he's lucky. 

And he does—but you linger, soft lips hovering over his cheek. His fingers curl and uncurl against his sides, waiting and wondering. 

“Please kiss me?” you breathe on his skin, and that's all it takes. 

He surprises himself with the intensity of it, but fucking hell, he's wanted you for so long. His shoulders hunch, neck bent low, and he slots his mouth over yours. Your little fingers grab at his shirt for balance, and he pushes you against your doorframe. Every time he pulls away you make a small noise of protest and chase his lips, and though Simon hasn't had a drop of alcohol today he feels well on his way to hammered. 

“Do you want to—please come inside—?” 

Simon groans and rests his forehead against yours. Fuck. “I want to—want t’do this right,” he rasps. 

You exhale with a shaky breath. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes glittering like stars. Simon's stomach lurches at seeing you want him. “Right, um. Of course. I just—I've thought about... about you. For a—a really long timmf—” 

Simon groans into your mouth. He cups your cheeks, one hand sliding to hold you at the back of your neck. A sweat breaks out along his spine when he imagines you at night, in your bedroom, fucking yourself with your little fingers. Whimpering his name... 

“Yeah? Y’want me to take you to bed, sweetheart?” he murmurs, and you shiver. 

The two of you barely make it past the door until Simon is stealing the breath from your lungs again. He's wanted this for so long it's a little hard to stop, even if it's to break apart for air. Miraculously you seem to want it as much as he does, seem as desperate for his touch as he is for yours. 

When has anyone wanted him this bad? When has he ever felt like he'd die on the spot if he didn't get inside you right the fuck now? 

He doesn't need to ask you where the bedroom is. This place has felt his touch almost as much as yours, has shaped up into a cosy little home that is part of him, too. Like he wants to be part of you. 

Simon simply scoops you up and carries you straight to bed, forgetting to be gentle when he deposits on the mattress. His head is buzzing, his heart is thundering, and he needs you now.  

Fortunately you don't seem to mind much. Your hands immediately fly to his belt, tug at the metal impatiently, then fumble with his zipper with trembling hands. Simon pulls your top over your head, throws it somewhere on the floor without a care followed by his own. 

“Lie back,” he husks, and makes quick work of your trousers. Pauses just for a second to take in the growing wet patch of your panties. 

“Simon,” you whine softly. 

He drops to his knees and slides his large hands over your thighs, transfixed. He smooths over the goosebumps on your legs, presses a kiss to your knee. 

“Want me t’take these off?” he rasps, snapping the band of your panties. You lift your hips in silent assent. Simon helps you shimmy off your underwear and suppresses a moan when a string of sticky arousal clings to the fabric—then follows it right to the source. 

You gasp when he kisses your folds before gently spreading them with big warm fingers. “Sweet little cunt,” Simon mutters, and then he goes to town. 

He starts with slow, wet licks, feeling out what you like and what's too much. He keeps it light for a while just to feel you squirm and to hear your breathing turn ragged, then backs off just when your knees start trembling. He smiles when you whimper his name with a desperate little “please". 

“Such good manners.” His breath washes over your clit, and your hips try to twitch away from him. “Proper sweetheart, yeah?” 

It's great fun, playing with you, but his cock is throbbing painfully and he's leaking everywhere, and he very much intends for you to end the night feeling so blissed out you let him sleep next to you. 

So Simon hoists you closer, hooks your thighs over his shoulder, and sucks on your clit until you're sobbing his name. He holds your hips down by splaying one big hand over your stomach because you're a sensitive little thing, bucking away from him when he's not nearly done with you yet.  

It's cute, seeing you lose yourself to the pleasure. It's also really fucking hot. Simon slowly pushes one finger in you and groans when you clench around him. 

“Simon,” you whimper. “Oh, please, please—” 

Such a good girl, begging without him telling you to. Simon crooks his finger, and your next breath is a stutter of moans before your whole body tenses and you cum on his tongue. 

Simon hums approvingly, keeping his motions slow and steady so you ride it out all the way. When you whine and wriggle away from him he lets up, wiping at your slick covering his chin. 

Best meal you've cooked him by far. 

“Oh,” you sigh. “That was... Give me—give me a minute...” 

Simon chuckles and rises from his knees to crawl over you and steal a kiss. “Feelin’ good, princess?” 

“Princess—” you let out a breathless laugh, but even in the low light of your nightstand lamp Simon sees the colour rise in your cheeks. Liked that, did you? You blink up at him, a sweet satisfied smile on your lips. “Mhm. So good. Come here?” 

Your hands trail over his sides, stroke over the light hair trailing down his stomach. Simon shudders when your knuckles brush over his cock and he shucks off his trousers further to give you better access. 

When you wrap your hand around him he drops his head into the crook of your shoulder and moans. The twitch of his hips is involuntary, too desperate to chase his pleasure to stay put. 

“Next time,” you whisper while pulling him forward, spreading your legs wider to fit around his hips, “I want to feel you in my mouth.” 

“Jesus,” he groans. It takes everything in him to not just slide in. “We need a condom?” 

“I'm clean,” you murmur against his jaw. “On birth control. If you want we can—” 

“Fuck yeah I do,” Simon says, and you laugh. Soft eyes when your hands slide over his shoulders, brush through the short hair on his neck. Simon watches your face while he lines himself up without blinking, and he's rewarded with the flutter of your eyelashes, the parting of your soft lips. 

Your brows scrunch together at the first few inches, and he kisses you sweetly to make you relax. Simon knows he's not small, and he groans when you clench around him. 

“Good girl,” he whispers against your hair. “Good girl. Just like that, yeah? Takin’ it real well. Just like that.” 

He slides in a little deeper. You shiver and mewl and beg him for more, and he gives it to you. Anything you want.  

“Simon,” you whimper. “Feels so—oh, you feel so good. More, please, please—?” 

Simon brushes the hair from your forehead, keeping his thrusts long and slow and making sure to kiss your cervix each time, just because your breath stutters so prettily every time he does. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck, you're so—such a tight little cunt. Couldn't wait any longer, could you? Jus’ had to have me?” 

You nod immediately and empathically, eyes glassy with arousal. You try to answer him, but the only thing you manage are airy moans that sound like his name. 

That's alright. Don't need to talk. He knows what you want to say; he feels the same. Simon catches you in a messy kiss while lacing his fingers with yours. Yours. Mine.  

He shoves his free hand between your two bodies and finds your clit, circling it until he's found the right rhythm that has tears gathering in your eyes. He could live on that for the rest of his life, of hearing you mindlessly stuttering his name while your body tenses up and your head drops back and those pretty lips part in a choked moan— 

“Christ,” Simon grits through his teeth, sweat dampening his brow. Your cunt flutters around him, soft little flower in full bloom that, with another thrust or two, has him falling apart as well. 

Both of you moan at the feeling of his cum spurting hot and thick in your waiting womb. Simon rocks against you slowly to make sure you get every last drop—birth control or not. 

He kisses you on the comedown. You melt into his touch, butter and honey, running your fingers through his hair until Simon shifts you around so you're curled up against him. 

In another minute he'll get up and get you a washcloth before tucking you in and kissing your bare shoulders. He'll wrap himself around you before sleep takes you, make sure that he's the last thing you see and hear and touch. 

For now he lets himself bask in the present. In having a sweet little bird clinging to him for comfort and giving him more than he could ever ask for in return. 

Simon doesn't think you quite realise what you've gotten yourself into, in giving this big ugly watchdog your affection. He's not a king or a prince; not even a knight, not like the ones you read so much about. Simon wouldn't exactly call himself chivalrous or genteel. 

But he's just as devoted and twice as vicious. He'll belong to you, and you to him, and from the moment he saw you he was oath-bound. 

He'll have to steal a ring or two to measure which size is right. It'll take some work to knock down the walls between your two houses, but he'll ask the lads for help. Simon knows you'll win them over right away if you cook dinner or bake them something sweet. 

And maybe in time he'll have to try his own hand at baking. He always did want to put a bun in the oven, and Simon just knows that if you're the one to do it with him— 

It'll come out perfect. 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Princesse's Halloween

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The sixth of my Halloween-centric fics

"You're saying this is a family tradition?" Talia asks, one brow raised in confusion as you gather Kung up in your lap to feed him treats.

"Yes."

"And your mums did this all the time?"

"Yes," You laugh," Right up until I was born. Then they had to include me in it."

"And they just choose each other's costumes? Nothing fancy? And the other person has to wear it?"

"Yes."

Talia grins, looking you up and down and you get the funny feeling that you're missing something.

"Do you want to do?"

"I would love to do it." You girlfriend practically purrs out the words and now you definitely know you're missing something.

But Kung thumps his foot and Reina hisses on the balcony at the neighbours and Prins whines to go on his walk and you forget all about the look Talia had on her face when you told her about your family tradition.

It doesn't even come to mind again until you're welcoming your mothers in the day before Halloween.

"Oh," Talia says, throwing her bag down onto a spare chair as she comes in from her media commitments.

She's had a lot of those now that she's the Barcelona captain and you're secretly very thankful you don't have a captaincy. You don't know if you'd make a very good captain.

It's a dream, of course. Every wannabe footballer, pictures captaining their club and their country but you don't know if anyone would ever see you as a leader like that.

It's one thing to captain a youth team. It's something completely different to captain a senior team.

"I didn't realise you guys were coming today," Talia continues," I thought you were coming in a few days?"

"You'd be surprised by how many flights are packed after Halloween," Pernille throws over her shoulder, having completely taken over the stove in the short time she's been in your apartment.

Magda's over by one of the shelves, staring intently at Rocky like she's willing him to blow up with her eyes. "It's awful. There was a baby on our flight. It wouldn't stop crying. Who brings a baby into business class?"

You laugh. "You've gotten grumpy in your old age, Morsa," You say fondly.

"We didn't travel with you at all!"

"You did," You say," I used to go to camp with Momma."

Magda flicks her hand dismissively. "Yeah but you were a well behaved baby. You barely cried." She looks over at Talia, nose wrinkled. "I bet you cried a lot."

Talia grins, more of a smirk really as Reina clambers all over her. "And tantrums. They're the stuff of legend in my family. Completely blew Patri's tantrums out of the water."

"Yeah, well-"

"Must you two do this every time?" Pernille asks, plating up food and opening some drinks. "We get it. You're 'enemies'. Can we just skip this bit and get to the point where you're bonding over being remarkably similar?"

Talia and Magda exchange a look.

"You always ruin my fun," Magda complains good-naturedly, sitting down at the table," But fine. Only because I love you." She leans over to kiss Pernille square on the lips.

"Hey!" You say," If you banned PDA for us, no PDA for you! No kissing at my table!"

The meal is delicious as always.

Talia doesn't think for a moment that Magda was the better cook from your childhood no matter how many times you insist she was.

After cleaning up and a few movies, you finally remember that look a few weeks ago. The look that Talia gave you when she agreed to pick out your costume this year.

Magda and Pernille had gone first with Pernille choosing a cute tiger onesie for Magda and Magda choosing a massive, inflatable chicken costume for Pernille that nearly didn't fit through the doorway when she came in wearing it.

You'd chosen a fairly goofy looking vampire costume for your own girlfriend, complete with a set of fangs that glow in the dark.

It's only when you get changed into the costume that Talia chose for you, that you remember that god awful smirk she wore when you explained to her your family tradition.

"Er..." You look at yourself in the mirror, trying to pull down the skirt of your nurse's outfit. "Talia, are you sure this is everything? It's...Kind of short..."

You can hear Talia cough, movement outside the door and then her head is popping in.

"I...er...bought this before I found out your parents were coming. You look good though."

"So I take it this is the full costume."

"You look very good as a sexy nurse," Talia says, grinning back at you in the mirror.

You purse your lips in thought. "Yes, I do." You turn, passing her in the doorway. "I'm looking forward to hearing how you're going to explain this one to my mothers."

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Twelve - Mr Ricciardo

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.8K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

"So, tell me, why is it I have to wait for the neighbours boy to tell me that you've got a boyfriend?"

"Mum," Y/N tutted as she chopped the vegetables. "I haven't got a boyfriend, okay?"

Her mother sighed and she could picture her pinching the bridge of her nose out of frustration. "I've seen the clip. I've seen you kissing the man in the white suit."

Daniel, she was talking about Daniel.

"And, was that my grandson behind you? Do you know how heart breaking it is that this is the first time I'm seeing Milo?" Her mother continued.

Y/N rolled her eyes. But she was used to it by now, used to her mother berating her. "You've done this to yourself," she bit back. "You didn't want to support me when I was pregnant with Milo, so you don't have the right to know him." She pulled the phone away from her ear and ended the call.

She took just a moment to gather herself. Conversations with her mother always rattled her, but she couldn't bring herself to remove her mother from her life. Maybe one day she'd give her parents a chance to know Milo, she just wasn't ready for that yet.

"Momma," Milo called as he walked into the kitchen. He climbed into his seat at the table and placed his colouring book in front of him. It was a Formula One themed colouring book and Milo happily tried to colour in the Ferrari.

Y/N placed the vegetables into the pan with the already cooked chicken. "What is it, my little munchkin?" She asked as she sat opposite him.

Milo kicked his legs as he coloured in the number sixteen on the car. "Do you think Mr Ricciardo will take us to another race?" He asked.

Thank God Milo hadn't asked his mother why she had kissed Mr Ricciardo. He hadn't brought it up at all. But he had dragged Y/N away the moment Daniel had pulled away from her. And he had insisting on holding all of her attention on their way home.

She and Daniel hadn't had a moment alone since they returned home two days ago. They'd tried to text, but Y/N immediately went back to work and Daniel was training. Olivia was with her mother, so she didn't even see him when dropping Milo off at daycare.

"I don't know, munchkin," Y/N said as she pulled out her phone. "Would you like him to?" She texted Daniel as she waited for Milo to answer.

"No," he answered, and Y/N looked up.

She frowned at her son. "Why not, Milo? What's up, munchkin?"

Milo muttered something under his breath, something that Y/N couldn't hear. So she asked him to say it again. "I don't want you to date Mr Ricciardo, momma! You won't have time for me if you date him," he muttered under his breath.

Suddenly Y/N stood up. She walked around the stable and stood at Milo's side. "Oh, munchkin," she whispered as she knelt down beside him. She wasn't going to tell him about the text Daniel had just sent her, it would make him far too upset. "If your momma ever starts dating, she's not gonna have less time for you," she said as she pulled him close. "You'll always be my number one guy, even if I date Mr Ricciardo."

"Are you gonna date Mr Ricciardo?" Asked Milo as he swung his legs back and forth.

Y/N let out a sigh. "Mr Ricciardo has asked if I would like to go to dinner with him," she said as she stood up straight. "That means you get a sleepover with Livvy, and her grandparents are gonna look after you," she said and went back sorting dinner. "Are you okay with that, Munchkin?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, momma. Sleepover with 'Livia!" He cried and went back to colouring.

y/n (milo's hot momma)

tomorrow are you okay if milo stays with olivia and your parents?

daniel riiiiiciaaaardoooo

of course i'll let them know

She plated up dinner and placed on in front of Milo, putting his colouring book and pencils up on the counter. They didn't mention Daniel and Olivia for the rest of the night. As much as Milo said he was okay with it, Y/N still want' sure. So she didn't say anything.

***

She hadn't been out on a date since before Milo was born. Y/N didn't have any date clothes, which is why she went shopping on her lunch break.

There wasn't a lot she could afford, nothing too fancy. She searched through the shops for the entirety of the half an hour she had for a lunch break. It took a few attempts in a few different shops before she found the dress she'd wear out to dinner with Daniel.

It was black and fit to her body. She skirt was short, with a tiny, little slit on the side. Nothing like what anybody would expect to see her in, but she felt beautiful when she tried it on. It was going to be perfect for her date with Daniel.

It stayed in the back of the car while she completed her day at the office. It stayed in the back of the car when she picked Milo up from daycare.

She got Milo ready for his sleepover at the same time that she got ready for her date with Daniel. She showered as Milo packed away his toys.

For the drive over to his house, she was dressed down, wearing just her sweats. The dress only came out of her car when she and Milo walked up to the house. She kept it clutched tightly in her hands as they knocked on the door and waited for Daniel to answer.

"Milo!" He called the moment he opened the door.

"Mr Ricciardo!" Milo cried, attaching himself to his leg.

He offered Y/N a smile as she walked into the house. Immediately Daniel went to get Milo settled with Olivia while she went to the bathroom to get changed.

When she came out of the bathroom Milo was already comfortable with Olivia's grandparents, telling them his favourite facts about his favourite dinosaurs. He already had Rexy out and the beginnings of Jurassic park was playing on the television in the background.

"Munchkin," Y/N called softly from the doorway.

All eyes turned to her. At Daniels stare she felt herself become rather bashful. He muttered a 'wow' under his breath, but she didn't react.

But Milo still ran over to his momma. "Are you sure you're be okay here with Olivia and her grandparents?" She asked softly as she crouched down to his height (while still trying to keep herself dignified.

"Yeah, momma," Milo said. "Go and have fun." He sounded so grown up, she could have cried. She wrapped her arms around him for just a second before letting him run back to Olivia and her grandparents to tell them the rest of the facts he knew.

Daniel strode towards her and offered her his arm. "Shall we?" He asked. Looping her arm through his, she nodded her head, and they left the house.

She hadn't been on a date in so long, she had forgotten what they were like. Or, maybe no date she'd ever been on before was as good as this one.

Daniel was a perfect gentleman for the entire night. He opened doors for her, pulled out her seat for her, let her order whatever she wanted, and insisted on paying.

Dinner was incredible. The food was good, the drinks were good, and Daniel was even better. She tried to argue with him about the payment, but Daniel wouldn't let her. There was no way he was letting Milo's hot momma pay on the first date.

That night she confessed to him what her dreams were. It wasn't something she liked talking about, not since having Milo. It wasn't that she didn't pursue her dreams because of Milo, but she was a single mum who had moved across the country. She didn't have the time or the money for dreaming.

"I hate to say it," she began as they walked back out to the car, hands joined, swinging between them. "But I'm actually enjoying a night off from parenting."

"Don't feel bad," Daniel said as he pulled open the passenger door for her. But Y/N shook her head. Aside from her little comment, it wasn't something she wanted to talk about. If anything, she wanted to get back to Milo.

Daniel shut the door and climbed into the drivers seat. "Come on," he began. "We've got one more stop before we head home."

"We do?"

Daniel couldn't help the grin that crossed his face. He started the car and began driving, heading away from the restaurant. The further they drove the less busy the roads got. The city lights soon faded but Daniel kept driving.

It was only when they were in the middle of nowhere that he stopped. Out here they could see the stars. "Wow," she whispered as she opened the car door and stepped out. Her outfit wasn't really suited for the cool night air, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she leaned against the hood of the car.

"Have I told you that you look really good?" Daniel asked as he sat beside her. He placed his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into his side.

She couldn't stop her giggle as she allowed herself to rest against him. "Yes, Daniel. Several times." She looked up at the stars with her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Daniel. You also look great."

He was in a simple pair of jeans and white shirt. But damn did it suit him.

She couldn't stop herself from grabbing his hand and tracing her fingertips over his tattoos. "Tonight has been amazing. I don't think I've been on a date since I was maybe seventeen," she confessed.

"We're gonna have to make up for lost time," he said, leaning his face closer to hers.

He was addicting, and she couldn't help but find herself drawn to him. Drawn in close enough to kiss him. His hand was cupping her cheek, fingers pushing stray hairs behind her ear.

Just like kissing Daniel the first time, it was amazing. He quite literally took her breath away. But neither of them wanted to pull away, not until they were desperate. Even then, Daniel still rested his forehead against hers. "Be mine," he whispered, his lips almost touching hers again.

She couldn't stop herself from stealing another kiss. "Not until I take you on a date, Mr Ricciardo," she said smugly.

Mr Ricciardo. He liked the sound of that.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

[b14augrana]

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Everything is still inconclusive

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

pt. 4 masterlist

Warnings: this story contains depictions of alcoholism, adultery, and familial issues. read at your own discretion.

A/N: part 3 is here! i was flat out of ideas for a good week or so but i’m actually really happy with this chapter and how much i managed to write. i hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

Vicky invited you to her home to talk.

“Just around this corner,” she said, pointing to a street. She was sitting in the passenger seat of your car while your siblings sat in the backseat. Vicky still lived with her parents, as you expected, because she was still too young to buy a place of her own. It was a nice house, situated in a neighbourhood just a few minutes outside the city centre, and once you had parked your car, you hesitated for a moment.

“Are you sure your mum isn’t going to mind? It’s late, we can always talk tomorrow,” you spoke, looking at her for a moment. She shook her head, opening her door and responding as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “She’s fine with it, don’t worry. Let’s go inside.”

You unbuckled your own seatbelt and stepped out of the car, your siblings doing the same. Magdalene clutched your shirt gently while the other two boys walked behind you.

The front door of Vicky’s house had little stained glass details that you admired for the short moment that you stayed outside. The door swung open when Vicky knocked on it gently, and behind it was a woman that bore a striking resemblance to the girl beside you.

“Mamá, this is (Y/N),” Vicky said, gesturing to you. You smiled shyly, and the woman returned it with a much wider smile. “Bona nit! Please, come in, it’s freezing out there,” she replied, ushering you and your siblings inside. She was right, it was chilly outside, and the warmth of the López household was nice.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked, looking over her shoulder as she directed you to the living room. You shook your head, but she insisted on making you a cup of tea, and the appeal of a warm beverage was too much to resist. After a few minutes, she brought two cups of tea out to the living room for you and Vicky, then placed them on the coffee table. “Graciés, Mrs. López,” you spoke.

You sat down on the couch, the warm mug of tea in your hand as you faced the girl. “So, what do you need to talk about?” Vicky asked, and you took a deep breath before telling her.

“Something happened, Vicky. My neighbour heard some noises from my house and thought one of us was getting hurt, so she called the police and–”

You paused for a moment, pinching the bridge of your nose as prepared to tell the rest of the story. It was like reliving it all over again; the currents of fear that overwhelmed you, the unsettling atmosphere of the interrogation room, all of it.

“They told me that they’re going to place my siblings in a foster home unless I become their legal guardian — which I can’t do in time — or find someone I know to foster them. They suggested my father but…” you shrugged, hoping that Vicky would catch on, and by the understanding look on her face, she did.

“I don’t know what to do– who do I even ask?”

You didn’t want to cry, but you knew it was inevitable. You had spent the day processing probably the worst news of your life, without shedding a tear. You deserved to cry. One tear quivered in your waterline before you blinked, and it was gone.

“Why are they getting taken away?” she asked.

“Social welfare thinks they’re unsafe as long as they’re under my mum’s care because she’s got a drinking problem and my dad is out of the picture. I’m not their legal guardian so I don’t have much of a say. Can’t really afford a lawyer yet either,” you explained.

Vicky paused for a moment, staring at the coffee table as she was deep in thought, and then she spoke.

“(Y/N), I know you two don’t have the best relationship, but I think you should ask Alexia.”

You almost spat out your tea in her face, and it showed in your suddenly very wide eyes. Vicky was quick to place her mug down and raise her hands in defence.

“Wait, wait! Before you say no, just remember that she is your captain,” she explained, justifying herself.

“Dios mío, that’s got to be the stupidest shit I’ve heard all week,” you mumbled, putting your head in your hands.

Vicky frowned, pushing you gently to grab your attention again. “I know she doesn’t treat you very well, but she can help you.”

You tapped your nail against the mug, considering the option. You had a very strained relationship with Alexia, and honestly, you highly doubted that she’d want to foster and risk compromising her career for something as stupid as a few kids that weren’t even hers.

“I don’t think so. She won’t have time,” was your final verdict. You didn't perceive Alexia as the type of person interested in motherhood… but, there was one thing.

All your siblings loved football just as much as you. It'd be easy for Alexia to relate to them, because they were like her; their eyes lit up at every beginning of a conversation relating to football, they were immersed in the world of FC Barcelona and always present for your matches and celebrations. They fought to wear their blaugrana jerseys to school and blaugrana scarves in the summer.

Your hand found itself fumbling with the charm bracelet on your other wrist, the initials ‘M’, ‘D’ and ‘L’ dangling from the delicate chain. Alexia would've loved your siblings, because they were the Barça-loving, unconditionally supportive children that she imagined when she thought of having kids.

“Don’t mention it to anyone, please.” Your voice was quiet, because Magdalene had fallen asleep beside you, curled up into a ball with her head resting on a cushion. The boys were just barely awake on the other side of the couch, closing their eyes for a quick moment before opening them again in an attempt to stay awake.

Vicky nodded, but that was it. Not many words were said afterwards, until her mother asked whether you’d like to stay the night. Too tired to disagree, you mumbled a little ‘please’, and she directed you to the guest bedroom.

The three of them slept on the bed that night. You made yourself a bed on the floor, out of cushions from the living room in which you put your Barça sweater over it as a makeshift pillowcase to ease the rough feeling of the original material on your cheek, and Vicky lent you a few spare blankets.

Magdalene wanted to try sleeping on the floor with you, but after a while you felt her leave your side and get into bed with her brothers.

She was little, they all were, but their presence was bigger than life itself, and laying there with Magda tucked in your arms reminded you of what it used to be like before. When you used to keep the abandoned shopping carts close so you could put all three of them inside at night and ride down the streets to the local restaurant, then you’d treat them to a big serving of their favourite foods and the night would end with you receiving three big hugs from the tiniest humans.

Life was simple before.

You called alcohol ‘big drink’ when you were young, because only big people could drink it. You didn’t know why, but soon your Mami started getting upset more and more, after she had some big drink. It only took a few lash outs for you to get caught in the crossfire and vow to never become like Mami.

You’ve tried it a couple times here and there, and it tasted like shit. You couldn’t understand your mother for choosing that bitter concoction over happiness but soon, you figured out that when all else failed for her, it was her happiness. Her kids were seen as secondary, if you were lucky.

A light suddenly illuminated the room, and that’s when you realised your phone was buzzing. A number flashed across the screen, but you stayed idle, not reaching for it. You watched the contact disappear before a text appeared, and you read it through slightly squinted eyes still trying to adjust to the light.

+34 ### ### #####

→ We’ve gotten a hold of your father and he has agreed to attend a meeting at 9 a.m. Please call or text back immediately if you’re available.

You should’ve responded. Instead, you stared at the message until the screen went black again, and even then you kept staring in the same direction until there was nothing. The next time you opened them, it was morning, and you were facing the bottom of the bed.

Magda, Dani, and Enzo were still asleep. Peering just above the mattress, you could see them piled on top of each other as they slept.

The ‘bed’ you made on the floor felt more comfortable than ever, making you reluctant to move. With a tap on the screen, your phone lit up and revealed the time to be just past 8:30.

Your hand flopped back down and you stared at the ceiling. Everything was perfect for a couple seconds, as you forgot about the need for the day to proceed and only recognised the serenity of being in that room right now, with the people you loved most.

Everything was perfect.

“We’ll wait five more minutes and if she isn’t here by then, you’re free to leave, señor.”

The man only gave a small nod in reply, otherwise his attention was almost entirely fixed on the little sliver of blue sky that was visible from the tiny window.

Five minutes flew by. The talks of getting ready to leave started up, but they were short lived when everyone was stunned back into their seats by the door suddenly swinging open. It clicked shut as a chair scraped across the floor.

“Sorry, traffic was bad,” you mumbled, folding your arms across your chest.

“How nice of you to join us, Miss (Y/L/N),” the social worker said, and it sounded like she was feigning politeness. You acknowledged her words with a quiet hum.

“Señor, since you are the only other legal guardian of Magdalene, Dani, and Lorenzo, we’ve sought you out as a possible option for a full time caregiver of the children,” she spoke, clasping her hands together and placing them on the table.

Your father pursed his lips, nodding along with her words, “I see.”

“I still don’t think this is a good idea, and I’m saying this before you waste more of our time,” you interrupted, pointedly refusing to even look at him.

“Why not? I’m their father, (Y/N), and I’m also yours, so–”

“You didn’t want them then, so I doubt you’d want them now. Don’t say you’ll take care of them to make yourself look good and then mistreat them because they’re not on par with your other kids,” you hissed, finally meeting his gaze with a stone cold glare.

The social worker across the table didn’t intervene, though she initially jolted forwards with the intention. She settled back into her chair and observed, looking to discover the true nature of your adamance to not let your father take your siblings.

Regret flashed across his face, and it was obvious; you noticed it in the downwards twitch of his lips and the shameful lowering of his gaze as you spoke.

“They’re still my children. It’s my job as their father to look after them,” he responded.

“So where were you all these years, when Mamá was drinking her body weight in alcohol? You left us! You are not their father and you haven’t been ever since you left us.” Your fist hit the table, the noise echoing through the room. The grimace on your face was only the surface level of the disgust you felt in that very moment.

“‘My job as their father…’ my fucking ass. I was more of a father to them than you, at 16 years old! I did your job better than you before I was even 18, and you have the nerve to come here and say that they’re still your children?”

His head was hung in shame as you chided him, and he still had nothing to say.

“I knew this was a bad idea, I knew it,” you almost yelled, jumping up from your chair. It skidded along the ground with a screech, and your fingers pressed at your temples.

You hated him so much, but standing there and yelling at him made you realise how much you missed him while he was still your father, before the cheating and abandonment. “You ruined Mamá’s life by putting your own needs before us, and I hope you’re proud. Have as many new kids with your new wife as you want, but you only destroy everything you touch.”

You hoped your words reflected the years of pain and torment he had inflicted on your family. You lost not one but two parents, because your mother loved him so much and he only took advantage of it while it benefited him before he decided it wasn’t enough.

There wasn’t a single word or phrase that could convey the inexplicable feelings you felt just then. He’d have to search for it in the flushed apples of your cheeks, your glossy bloodshot scleras, and tightly furled fists tensed up at your sides.

“(Y/N), mi carita…” he started, standing up. You took a big step back, your hand finding the door knob with a steady grip.

“Just leave and don’t come back. I don’t want to see you ever again, never ever!”

With those words, you were 13 again, standing behind the corner and listening to your mum say the exact same thing to your dad.

Back then, when you two argued, you couldn’t hold his gaze without crying, but now you were. He was nothing in your eyes if not the smallest man who’s ever lived. You made sure to give him your most withering glare so he knew that there was no point.

In his eyes, you were probably the furthest you had ever been from his daughter. The loving and energetic girl he watched grow up, was now eye-to-eye with him in a police station, refusing to allow him any entry into his kids’ lives.

“Don’t give them false hope,” you sneered, wrenching the door open before deliberately slamming it behind you.

Maybe, just maybe, Alexia wasn’t such a bad idea. Yes, she was passionate about football and didn’t take it very well when people didn’t display the same amount of passion for the sport as she did, but that only meant that when she loved something, she loved it hard and with all her being. She could love your siblings. She could love them more than anyone, even their own blood.

You sought to get out of the police station and away from it as a whole, so as you stormed out of the building and sunk into the driver’s seat of your car, you had no specific place in mind.

You ended up at the Barceloneta beach. There weren’t many other places you could think to go to; the pitch was out of the question, because wherever there was a ball and a goal, there was Alexia. Your house was a huge memorabilia museum for the past, and you couldn’t show up to Vicky’s house out of the blue.

The beach was pretty, and you always loved going there. Nothing could spoil that for you.

Just the horizon and ebbing tide for company while you watched the sun slowly descend — it was what you needed.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Part of you didn’t want to pull it out in case it turned out to be someone you didn’t like wasting your time, but you pulled it out anyways. Thankfully, it was only Vicky.

She sent you a photo from earlier that morning, and it featured all three of your siblings fast asleep on the guest bed while you slept on the floor in your comfy cluster of blankets. She followed the photo up with two laughing faces, and then two more messages.

Vicky

→ 🤣🤣

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ Hermanos y hermanas

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ Come sleep over again (Y/N)!!! My Mamá found the Uno cards 😉

You smiled at the photo and saved it to your camera roll before you considered Vicky’s request. You took a moment, but eventually you responded.

(Y/N)

→ vale vale 🥲 i’m picking la hermanos y hermana right now and then i’ll come straight to your house. graciés vicky ❤️

You watched the sun set further during the drive to the schools, and then again while you drove to Vicky’s. This time, you parked in the driveway, and you didn’t feel dreadful entering her house.

You rang the doorbell and the four of you waited patiently. Mrs. López was quick to rush to the door and open it.

“Hi, I hope we’re not bothering y–” you started, but you were cut off.

“(Y/N), mío querido! Come in, come in, you’re not a bother at all. You’re always welcome in our home,” she said, embracing you tightly with a warm smile.

Vicky appeared from the living room, shuffling a deck of cards in her hands. “Who wants to play Uno?” she asked, waving the cards in her hand and immediately receiving a positive reaction from your siblings, who bolted towards her eagerly.

You followed them, because though you knew they were getting taken to their foster home tomorrow and being stripped away from you, you wanted to enjoy the night and play Uno with your siblings.

Nothing’s for sure but right now. You couldn’t waste this moment.

[tales-from-elysivm]

★。／can i be a hero too?＼。★

ask: "I have a really cute request, Bakugou from Bnha with a little sibling reader. They weren't able to get a babysitter and Bakugou bring his little sibling to school, the reader is the complete opposite of him though"

pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader

fandom: boku no hero academia

word count: 1,196

tw: none! purely some platonic, wholesome fluff. of course, a bit of cussing from bakugo but that comes with the territory

notes: thanks for being one of my first requests anon! it was really fun to get back into writing fanfic, and bnha is one of my favourite animes so writing this was a lot of fun - i just hope i did it well and you enjoy reading! i used primarily they/them pronouns for the sibling just in case ;)

! this is a repost from my other blog !

‘Can’t we just hire that old fucking neighbour?!’

Mitsuki doesn’t even bother smacking her son this time, too busy fixing up the bento box she has already begun making in the kitchen. Rice and egg and soft pretzels which [Y/N] always insisted on. The same thing everyday, which Katsuki found increasingly frustrating. Their name is painted on the lid, which sits on the sink.

It’s one of the only memories that Mitsuki repeatedly brags about to her mom friends. How her son eagerly decorated a bento box for his anticipated sibling, and how he ended up despising them when born. That’s what it looked like anyway

‘She’s too old for [Y/N], you know this.’ Mitsuki snaps, snapping on the box lid. ‘They’ll get bored if they have to sit in her living room all day.’

‘The place smells like shit too.’

‘Katsuki!’ This time she does hit him.

‘It’s just one day. All you have to do is keep them busy for a while, and they’ll find a way to occupy themselves for the rest of your classes.’

Mitsuki packs the bento box and several colouring books and pencil sets into a tiny school bag that’s been sitting open on the dining room table. Just as [Y/N] comes skipping into the room in an All-Might tracksuit that they demanded they ‘had to have’ when they saw it at a convention a while ago.

‘Aren’t you so pretty, hun?’ Mitsuki coos at - arguably - her favourite child. ‘Guess what?’

[Y/N] mumbles something around a mouthful of a soft pretzel. Where’d they even get it from?

‘You’re going to school with Katsuki today!’

Oh shit their face got a fuck ton more bright when he looked down again. Even the mention of U.A on any given day made them bounce around while babbling about how they’d love to be a hero when they got their quirk. 

‘Really?’ [Y/N] attaches themself to his leg, bouncing up and down to make sure they’ve heard Mitsuki just right.

She glares at him when [Y/N] looks away.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’

No one’s expecting anything entirely different when Aizawa starts class that morning. The only thing that seems slightly out of the ordinary is Bakugo being late. Kirishima is counting through the minutes and soon enough a whole half hour passes without him being there to yell at anyone. Even Midoriya is having a particularly stress-free morning!

However, no one was expecting for him to parade into the class an hour later with a six year old sitting on his shoulders, because (as he said) “they didn’t want to use their damn legs”. 

‘Bakubro,’ Kaminari is already laughing his ass off in the back corner. ‘Ya got a hitchhiker there.’

Bakugo is almost fuming by the time he drops off the child at his desk, standing by Aizawa to demand - or ask - that he ignore the situation. Number one, [Y/N] got a day off school because of a downtown villain attack, and Mitsuki couldn’t find a babysitter after their current one caught the flu. With no other options and both of his parents going to work early that morning, he had no choice but to drag them along as long as, and quote:

‘You don’t make a damn noise, and no questions, and no playing around, you sit down and shut up.’

Did [Y/N] listen? Nope. Not really. 

Halfway through the first lesson of the morning, and little [Y/N] is sitting in the lap of half of his classmates, messing with Hagakure’s invisible hair in utter curiosity, and playing heroes with Midoriya and Kirishima. At which point they all stand on their desks and put their fists in the air yelling ‘Detroit Smash’!

Katsuki just stands and watches as [Y/N] jumps from person to person, playing with quirks and planning out their future hero name. Kaminari is the most excited to stand on his desk and create a fake hero mask out of tape and paper, and theorise all the new quirks that could be made for [Y/N].

‘[Y/N] sit down for God’s sake!’ he growls at them, and they do so as they nestle themselves into a corner of his desk. Katsuki squeezes on with her. ‘No more talking to these... damn extras during class, ok?’

Mitsuki would skin him alive if he even thought about swearing properly in the same room as her “precious angel”.

‘But why?’

‘’Cause it’s annoying.’

[Y/N]’s eyes widen a bit, but then they beam at him and nod again, picking up a pencil as if they actually are a student and begin doodling a picture while others begin homework. Aizawa doesn’t collapse into his sleeping bag this time, instead keeping an eye to ensure he isn’t sued later for the death of an unrelated child. Midoriya and Iida are the first ones to finish of course, followed by Katsuki, who has to steal his pages when [Y/N] isn’t looking, handing it across the teacher’s desk with glitter flowers and stars in the margins. 

The bell goes to signal the beginning of their hero training, and [Y/N] clutches Katsuki’s hand as they shyly approach the scary-looking racoon man to hand him a (“professionally signed”) artwork by [Y/N] Bakugo. A misshapen house with a cat and a very dead looking racoon. 

(Aizawa does frame it later, like a dad of course.)

(Katsuki does call his teacher roadkill exactly three times after that.)

For hero training All-Might stands with his hands on his hips with [Y/N] at his side to help conduct the lesson. Together they order drills and [Y/N] gets to practise their hero voice and pose. The class ends with the whole group playing games and kicking a soccer ball around so they can pretend that [Y/N] has to save it from various situations. Which they do so successfully - “a top-rate hero” in All-Might’s words.

For Katsuki, he’s glad to get home and die in bed when 8:30 rolls around. It’s been non-stop questions and poking and prodding even though he told [Y/N] not to, but they wouldn’t listen! And when they got home Mitsuki hounded him to make sure they hadn’t done anything stupid while at school. 

But 9 rolls around and [Y/N]’s socks cast shadows over the door frame, and the door handle jiggles. Katsuki waits and doesn’t move to help them with it. They come padding in with a stuffed Midnight plush, and crawls onto his pillow. 

‘Kat, can I come to school with you everyday?’

And god-fucking-dammit, they look so damn excited to go to school with their big brother that all he can do is turn off his lamp and pull the covers up and pat their hair. He can feel his chest swell with pride, because his sibling wants to come and watch him become a hero.

He can’t help but wonder what kind of hero [Y/N] will be. What would their quirk be? 

Oh, Mitsuki would kick his ass if he even thought about surpassing his own sibling.

He smirks at the thought. His sibling would be the best hero at U.A, not like those fucking extras. 

‘Yeah, whatever.’

i really enjoyed writing this!

let me know if you want to request anything, and i'll try my best to get to them as quickly as possible.

[daydreams-after-dark]

Haii babes

Hear me out okay. Younger neighbor living next to DILF Chan and he's having a BBQ with all his middle aged friends like Minho, Changbin and Han and he invited you over. Obviously you have to dress your best (to get fucked) and it turns into a gun activity amongst the 5 of you 😫. PLEASE IM DYING ABOUT THIS

Holy shit! This ask came in and it instantaneously unlocked something in me! I was about to go out and meet a friend for coffee and the whole drive over I was thinking about channie and his friends fucking reader!!!

The idea of middle aged Chan and his friends, using younger reader like a little whore has got me rather turned on. Maybe it’s the voyeur in me wanting to see her getting absolutely ruined by the mature men? I don’t know and I’m not going to question it.

I just want to write something downright filthy (because this is the after dark blog). 😈😈💀💀

Just to clarify, the asks is meant to say “fun activity” not “gun.”

Oh and I just have to mention that this is basically 3Racha plus Minho…. Which I’ve always said is my ultimate dream! 🫠🫠🫠🫠 i'M SUCH SLUT FOR THEM!!

Ready? Here we go. Buckle up, it’s going to be pure filth!

CW: age gap - chan and co are in their forties (but very energetic) and reader is 22, implied consent, objectification, praise, name calling, unprotected vaginal and anal sex, double pen two holes, gangbang, blow jobs, cum eating (m and f), cream pie, slapping, spanking, hair pulling, rough sex, nipple play., videotaping

Your neighbour, Chan, is a filthy man. At first glance he is quite polite, very good looking, and a wonderful resident of the neighbourhood. But it's just an act. You know this from the way he sits on his upstairs balcony watching you whenever you sunbathe in your backyard.

It feels thrilling knowing he's watching, and the next time you sit in your backyard to sunbathe, you take your bikini off entirely. He doesn't even pretend he’s not looking.

You wonder if he'd come over and fuck you if called out to him? Probably. He seems like that kind of man.

One glorious spring day, Chan invites you over for an evening barbeque. "I'm having a small gathering of a few of my close friends, and they'd love to meet you." he smiles kindly, crinkling the wrinkles around his eyes. But there's a deviousness behind them.

"Of course! I'll be there."

From what you’ve seen, his friends are hot too, and so of course you're ringing Chan's doorbell in your shortest sundress, tiniest panties, and tallest heels you own, balancing a platter of finger food in your hand.

“Y/n! Thank you for coming. Everyone has been waiting for you.” He guides you through his home to a closed in outdoor entertaining area at the back of the house.

“These are my friends.” He gestures to the three men sitting in outdoor couches around a low coffee table.

“This is Changbin, Han and Minho.”

You smile and wave at each of the men, exchanging pleasantries.

There are snacks spread out on the table in front of them, along with empty glasses. “Chan, shall I help poor drinks?” You offer. He smiles and tells you where to find the wine.

As you go retrieve the bottle of wine you take a moment to catch your breath. They are all so fucking handsome. You think to yourself, and you’re glad you decided to dress cute-slash-slutty.

“Here she is.” Smiles Chan as you walk back out.

“Drinks, boys?” You chime, holding up the wine, and all four men hold their empty glasses ready for you. You make your way around, being sure to bend over and stick out your ass to give each of the other men a view up your short dress, whilst smiling innocently at the man you were pouring a drink for.

You hear a few mumbled “fucks” and you know they’re eyes are glued to your ass cheeks poking out from underneath the dress.

“Y/n. You should come sit down. Take a seat.” said Chan.

You stand up and look around, but there isn’t a chair or space for you to sit.

“I think Chan means go take a seat on his lap, princess.” The one named Minho chuckles.

You turn to Chan who’s sitting with his legs wide and his arms outstretched along the back of his chair.

Oh. That’s exactly what he means. You can see it written on his smug face.

Quietly, you make your way over to Chan and carefully perch yourself across his lap.

He sucks in a breath and wraps an arm around your back. His other hand comes to your knee and squeezes it gently. “I was just telling the guys about what you and I get up to on the weekend.” He smirks.

“W-what do you mean?” You ask.

“Oh you know perfectly well, babygirl.” He says sternly. “How you put yourself on display for me.” He inhales the skin on your neck, causing you to shudder. “And they want you to show them what you show me.”

You look around at the men. Han is snacking on some crisps like this is an everyday situation, Changbin has the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen, and Minho looks like he wants to eat you.

You gulp.

Chan slowly unzips the back of your dress and pulls the sleeves down your arms until your tits spill out. He immediately attached his mouth to a nipple, then he pulls off with a loud pop. “So young. So supple.” He says approvingly groping at your breast.

“How old are you, y/n” Changbin asks curiously.

“T-twenty two.” You squeak.

“Perfect age.” He licks his lips.

“Old enough to fuck rough, and young enough to teach a lesson.” Minho stated.

“Hear that, babygirl? They want to play with you.” He whispers low.

Fuck! You bite your lip and grind ever so slightly on Chan’s thigh. He notices the small action. “You like that idea, don’t you? You gonna be our little whore for tonight?”

His hand slides up your dress to find your soaking panties. “Thought so.” He chuckles, pulling them to the side and pushing a finger into you.

“Fuck! Oh god… Chan.” You choke as he thrusts his fingers into your tight wet cunt.

“Hmmm… I think you mean daddy.” He corrects you. “Now bend over. You deserve a slap for that insolence.”

You looked at him questioningly, and the other men snicker.

“I said bend over, you need to be spanked.”

You move to lay across his lap, and Chan lifts your dress to reveal your ass.

"Hmm, scrumptious piece of meat." ogles Changbin.

"Bin, pass me the cheese knife...thanks, mate."

Your eyes squeeze tight and your breath hitches as he carefully traces the knife up the back of your thigh, before using it to slice your tiny little panties right off.

He tosses the knife back on the table and spreads your cheeks so the other three can see your glistening pussy.

"She looks like she'll be really tight." mumbled Han, his mouth full of food. "Do you think she'll be able to take us all? You know what we're like once we get started."

"She looks trainable." said Minho.

"Now, I think five spanks, should be enough." Chan concludes, and you secretly smile to yourself. You've can easily handle way more than- "Ahhh...Fuck!" you cry when a hard slap lands directly on your pussy. His hand comes down again. Slap! and another one. God, that stings.

"Just three more." Slap. Slap. Slap.

He pulls your dress down your body and slides it off your legs and tosses it to the floor. "Up we get, babygirl. Sit up now." Chan cooes.

You sit up with tears down your cheeks and look at the three other men. They all have their cocks out and are stroking their lengths.

"What do you have to say for yourself." Chan caresses your thighs and nuzzles into your breasts.

"S-sorry, d-daddy." you whisper.

"That's it. Good girl." The praise makes you feel good, and it makes you want to please him more.

"Now, I need you to go and suck Han's cock." He helps you onto your feet. "Go. He's waiting for you." he urges you on.

Naked, except for your heels, you make your way to Han. You feel wobbly on your feet from the shock of being spanked, but at the same time you've never felt more turned on in your life.

"Here, doll." Changbin stands up and directs you to kneel where he had been sitting and lean down and take Han's cock deep into your mouth. "Yes. This way we can have a bit of fun with you at the same time Han is fucking your throat." he adds.

"Baby, ahhh...ngh... fuck your mouth..." Han hums as you give him the best head of your life, taking him all the way into your throat. "Mmmh...you've sucked cock before haven't you, baby. ahhh...like a fucking pro." he holds your head down and thrusts into you, making you choke. "One of my favourite sounds." he adds.

Changbin spreads your ass cheeks and rubs the pads of his fingers around the entrance to your pussy, making you moan around Han. Then you feel the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance.

"Changbin. Split her open for us." Minho says.

"Is our little toy ready to be played with? hmm?" Changbin chuckles as he pushes his cock into you. You let out a muffled cry as Changbin's girthy cock stretches your pussy open. He's so thick, but you're so wet, and once he is fully seated inside you, he starts to fuck you.

His thrusts are slow, deep, measured, and so powerful that you really are being forced to choke on Han's cock. Together, two men use you like a fleshlight, like a pretty toy to fuck into. Their hands explore your body in a rough, animalistic way, and you're fucking loving it.

You know that Chan and Minho are watching you from their chairs, probably jerking off and dying for a turn of you.

"Fuck...your pussy...so fucking tight..." he digs his fingers into your hips and slams your ass back onto him. "That's it...fuck...show me how you fuck yourself..." he releases his hands from your body, and stops thrusting entirely, making you back yourself onto him over and over again.

You can barely breathe, your makeup would surely be ruined by now, between the sting of the spanking and choking on cock, your face is surely a mess.

"Fuck. Coming." choked Han and you feel spurts of his hot cum hit the back of your throat. "Take it, baby. Such a good slut." he pants, emptying himself in your mouth.

Changbin abruptly pulls out, causing you to whine at the sudden emptiness, and he pulls your head off of Han by your hair. "Open, quick." he grunts and bullies his cock into your mouth. Three harsh thrusts and he's coming on your tongue too. "Show me, doll. Good girl." He nods in approval when you show him you swallowed every drop. “Belly full of cum.”

Han gets up off the couch to find a snack and a drink, and you almost collapse face first into the cushion. You feel Chan move behind you, spreading your cheeks again for a good look at your used hole.

"Babygirl didn't get to cum did she?" he mocked. You shook your head whimpering. You are so close, and your core feels so tight that you are going to snap at any moment.

You hear the sound of a cap from a bottle and then a familiar feeling of cold lube being applied to your asshole. They're going to fuck your ass.

"Shh... Daddy's just going to loosen you up." he purrs as he begins to prep you for his cock. You rest your head on the cushion and give yourself to Chan, letting him finger fuck your ass until he is three full fingers deep. "Taking me so well. Now for you to feel my cock, yeah? It’s gonna be a tight fit.”

He removes his fingers and presses his cock to your hole.

“That’s it…Good girl…Look at you taking daddy’s cock so well.” He praises as he pushes into you slowly. “Your tight little hole loves to be stretched… doesn’t it. Answer me.”

B-yes…loves to be stretched.” You pant.

“This is what you think about isn’t it? Me deep in your ass.” He starts to fuck you, withdrawing slightly, then pushing in deeper on each thrust. You can’t help but cry out, moan and whimper as his thrusts steadily become faster.

“Next time you’re out in your backyard naked, I’m gonna come around and fuck your ass….just like this…” he pants.

“We’ve managed to hook it up.” Changbin says excitedly.

“Babygirl. Look.” He whispers. You look up to the wall mounted flatscreen to see a close up of your ass with Chan’s enormous cock fucking into you. You turn your head back to see Changbin videoing the action, then your eyes return to the screen to watch your hole being abused.

Han comes to your side to reach underneath you to play with your clit. “You gonna show us how you come, baby?” He smirks.

“Oh fuck! Fuuuuuccckkk!” You squeal, coming hard.

“Good girl! Now daddy’s gonna fill you up. Ready, sweet thing?” His hand comes down to slap your ass.

“Yes, daddy. Fill me up. Need your cum.” You plead.

Chan groans as he releases himself deep in your ass and withdraws himself.

“Princess. Over here right now.” Minho snaps.

You haven’t even a chance to recover from your orgasm, as you stumble over to Minho. “Sit on the coffee table. Spread your legs for me.” He pushes you down to sit in front of him and shoves your legs open. Then he’s suddenly kneeling between them and lapping at your cunt.

You throw your head back and moan. The man knows how to eat pussy, and you’re not sure you will ever be go back to go back to lacklustre oral.

Minho’s mouth moves down to catch the cum leaking from your ass. Now that’s the most erotic thing you’ve ever witnessed.

“Which hole you gonna fuck?” asks Changbin.

Minho pulls away from your pussy and lazily fingers your cunt. “I wanna DP her. Han. You haven’t fucked get yet.”

Minho sits back in his chair, pulling you on top of him and spreading your legs over his. He pulls your heels off and instructs you to press your feet into the cushions beside him and lift yourself up. You do as he says as he lines his cock up with your ass and slowly lowers you onto him.

“S’deep.” You choke.

“Mmm… you feel perfect, Princess. Such a pretty little cockslut for us aren’t you? Gonna be filled with so much cum by the end of this. Full of cum and your holes fucking gaping.” He smirks against your cheek. His hands squeeze your tits as you grind on his cock.

“Come on, Princess. Not getting tired I hope? C’mon, bounce on me…put on a show for the camera.” He hisses.

You’ve forgotten they were recording you. You muster all the energy you can to bounce up and down Minho’s cock and watching the screen to see your hole swallowing it up with ease. Fuck! You are a slut. And you’re fucking loving every second of it.

“Han. Come on.” Minho growls.

Han positions himself in front of you and lines his cock up with your cunt. “Have you done this before, baby?” He asks you.

You don’t answer, you’re about to come again.

“Hey!” He slaps you across the cheek and you come hard around Minho’s cock.

“Fuck, she just came. She’s clamped up. Fuck… quick… Han, fuck her now.” demands Minho.

“So our little lady likes to get roughed up. Huh?” Han shook his head In disbelief, and then groaned low as he pushed his cock into your pussy.

“Oh!!” You groan. “So…full… you’re splitting me in two… shhhiiittt.”

You’re not new to anal sex whatsoever, but you’ve never taken two cocks like this.

“Babygirl…” Chan tugs you by your hair and you turn your head to the side to take his cock in your mouth.

Changbin is on the other side taking your hand and wrapping it around his cock. He’s still holding his camera, aiming it from above, and managing to catch everything that is happening.

All four of them are using your body at the same time. Minho fucking your ass, Han your pussy, and you alternate between Chan and Changbin as they fuck your face.

Your hair is being pulled, someone has a hand wrapped around your neck, your nipples are being pinched and slapped, and Han is spitting on you.

They pull another orgasm from you before moaning and growling as they fill you up with their cum.

Eventually, they pull themselves out of you, they say their farewells, leaving you and Chan alone.

He carries you bridal style to his bathroom, runs you a bath and tucks you into his bed so you can rest.

“Such a good girl for daddy.” He whispers as he slips in bed beside you. “We need organise another gathering soon.”

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23

[heavenbarnes]

completely self indulgent thoughts about older!bf simon inspired by today's events at work. I work in tech/sales and a lot of my days are spent setting up new phones for people who are 35+, that for the life of them, can't figure out technology. just thinking about older!bf simon needing to get a new phone and asks reader for her thoughts, but when reader starts talking about storage size or sim cards he gets confused and just tells her "pick whatever love, I trust your judgement" not just because he does in fact, trust her judgement, but also because he can't he bothered trying to learn and understand.

have many thoughts about this.

friend, 90% of what i write is entirely self indulgent- we’ve got to do it 🫶🏼

it’s a miracle you convinced older bf!simon to finally get rid of that god forsaken flip phone and start working with an actual smartphone.

granted, it was like pulling teeth (yes the prospect of receiving nudes whilst he was deployed helped) but what mattered was he’d finally entered the 21st century.

and then he drops his cellphone on the drive and manages to boot it into the side of the neighbour’s garage. the thing was absolutely munted by the time it’d come off the end of simon’s steel cap.

which is why you’re standing in the middle of the electronics store looking at endless tables of cellphones and simon looks like he’s there at gunpoint.

“i ‘ave been held at gunpoint, was better than this”

so you lead him to the smartphones that are smart but not too smart, the ones that look hard to break or get wrong. they also look older than half the people working in the store, but that’s besides the point.

“can i help you both with anything?”

right on cue, a young but cheery guy appears across the table with a lanyard that tells you his name is hunter and he’s ready to help!

“no”

your elbow fits nicely under simon’s ribcage as you gear up to play hunter’s defence lawyer for however long this interaction is going to take.

“hi hunter, this one is looking for a new smartphone- what do you recommend?”

and while hunter does a standup job at explaining the benefits of a handful of phones he probably hasn’t sold to anyone under 75, simon is suddenly well engaged.

“and we’ve got a selection of cases, just regular ones or tough ones”

“need t’be tough, don’t want the fucker breakin’ when i’ve got someone in a headlock”

hunter pales and you veeeery slowly turn to simon with a look on your face that begs to know what the actual fuck is wrong with him.

“oh simon, you comic trailblazer- you know what, you’ve been so helpful hunter, thank you!”

you cut the kid loose as he tries to leave the table without taking his eyes off simon, who coincidentally is doing the exact same thing to him.

“would it kill you to let him help us?!”

“just about, didn’t like the way he looked at ‘ya”

the kid didn’t look a day out of school and naturally your better half has to pick a fight with any guy that so much as exists within your atmosphere.

he’s lucky he’s so handsome.

“ugh, which one do you prefer? 32GB? 64?”

“whaddyou’ reckon?”

and you’re about to let out the longest sigh known to man when you catch the look on his face.

that same look he gives you when he’s dressed up for dinner or just come back from a haircut, the look he gives you that tells you he’s looking for your opinion.

approval

“32 would do you, i don’t think you need that much space”

he grunts before he pulls you into his side, taking you both to the counter so he can get you to say all that again to your helpful attendee.

“oi, hunter”

poor guy nearly jumps out of his skin but manages to settle when he realises he’s about to close the sale, even manages to upsell that tough case.

simon settles once he’s back in the car with you, eyes scanning the box his phone comes in and grumbling something under his breath.

when you ask him to speak up you immediately wish you hadn’t.

“lost all those videos ‘f yours, better be enough space f’the new ones”

[norrisreads]

you belong with me

plot : having oscar piastri as a neighbour and best friend was great, supporting him from the sidelines, everything was fine even when the feelings was just one sided…. or so was it?

pairing : oscar piastri x reader! lando norris x reader! platonic

warnings: slight angst, fluff! mainly inspired by you belong with me by taylor swift

growing up with oscar piastri as your neighbour had been a core memory, you would remember communicating with him through windows, yes windows.

the first time you moved in to his neighbourhood, you were just a girl who had moved from singapore to australia and had zero friends, you had to restart your whole life in another country

of course, your parents had opted to let you settle down for a few weeks before starting school, which led most of your days spying on your neighbour’s family and just casual people watching

the piastri family, just a normal family who had 3 little sisters and him, oscar piastri being the eldest in the family. you would notice him arriving home with his mum by his side in his karting suit, enraged sometimes, happy too.

it was a sight to see, your dad had allocated your study table right in front of your window and what a coincidence it was that just in-front of you was his room.

It was a shock of course to him when he noticed you flipping through your books (or so he thought), and the moment you had your head up to do some stretchings , the both of you had a few seconds eye contact and smiled.

you didn’t pay much attention because as much as your heart was jumping around, it was a tad bit awkward, but you notice a motion that he was scribbling on something, and a few minutes later a sketchbook was seen holding up by him

“just moved in?”

you nodded your head, you looked around and grab some empty pieces of paper and a black marker

he then wrote a few more sentences, “i’m oscar, what about you?”

“y/n, just moved here from singapore!” with that information he absorbed , he made an ‘o’- shaped mouth, and went back to scribbling a few more sentences

“any plans right now?” of course, you shook your head

“do you wanna grab dinner?” was written on oscar’s sketchbook, he then held up an ‘OK’ hand motion along with a thumbs up and thumbs down which then u gave him a thumbs up

and from that day on, you made your first friend who then became your best friend who then became your first love.

“let’s just go to at least one race, y/n! you’ve been there for me since formula 3, won’t seeing me race in formula 1 in real life make you happy?” his voice speak through your phone that was placed on your bed

you were currently cleaning up your room while being on-call with oscar, even-though the both of you were neighbours and he could technically come over and talk to you physically in your room, he was sadly grounded.

so there he was, sitting on the ledge of his window, being on call with you at the same time just watching you moving around your room.

“osc you’ll be traveling across the world, my dad’s gonna kill me if i’m skipping school, lily’s gonna be with you”

Lily zheimer is Oscar’s girlfriend, you had found out when Oscar had asked for your guidance to assist him in his prom-posals which you did so (stupidly), you had been there for Oscar when the both of them had fights, of course you were the one consoling him even-though you could hear bit by bit pieces of your heart breaking apart.

“it’ll be great if you will be there too, you’re my best friend after all” and yet again, just a best friend

dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that

you’re looking for has been here the whole time

“lily’s gonna be fuming if i’m there, you know the both of us don’t get along, let’s not do that Osc”

as much as you were kind to lily, she had been against of Oscar’s friendship with you since day one, oscar would missed out on the days where the both of you had planned to hang out and every-time you smiled to lily it wasn’t reciprocated back instead she would give you an eye roll.

you never understood why lily hated you, or disliked? you gave space to oscar whenever he’s out with lily and you’re not that type of girl best-friend who’s all up in Oscar’s business. Oscar had assured you multiple times that lily would get over it (which she didn’t and it’s been years).

lily zheimer was the stereotypical popular girl in your school, meanwhile you were just an average student who had few friends because to be fair you’d rather have an average life rather than being popular.

except she wasn’t the typical popular girl who’s a cheerleader, she was the smartest in your school, you did admire her, she’s a beauty with brain. were you ever jealous of her beauty? of course, but what you were jealous the most was the way oscar looked at her.

The way Oscar looked at her was as if he could see his whole future planned out with her, and THAT was the way you looked at Oscar, and this is of course a typical best-friend unrequited love.

“my parents will be following y/n, you can tag along with them, just one race please” you stopped in your tracks and looked up at him, he was literally pleading with his hands together begging you

“fine, i’ll go to one race osc”

you could hear oscar shouted “YES” and a moment later you heard your phone notification went off and it was Oscar’s mum

“so glad that you’re coming along, y/n! girl’s day for us 🥰” to which you laughed and let oscar know

“your mum just texted me osc, that was fast”

“yeah she loves you y/n, i have enough sisters already but she already is claiming you to be her daughter. At this point even my sisters prefers your existence more than me” to which he flipped you off and rolled his eyes jokingly

“fuck you osc, i’ll take back whatever i said about attending” and there it was the beeping of an ending call

and the next moment you heard him shout across the window, “don’t even think about it, I’m grounded right now, I’ll literally stormed to your front door in 2 days if you decides to back out” and closed his windows

it’s the day of the australian grand prix, you were granted the 3 days paddock pass by mclaren as oscar’s guests.

osc and lily had of course arrived the paddock together, meanwhile you arrived with oscar parents.

few fans had recognised you as oscar’s best friend, and you being nice had small talks with them, it was the first time you could see the amount of fans oscar had and you felt so proud of him, of the journey you had seen him grew up with.

you were just walking around the paddock, this wasn’t the first time you were in the paddock but it was the first time you were in a formula one grand prix.

you spotted oscar’s team mate lando norris scooting around the paddock and remembered the first time oscar told you about him. He was exactly how oscar described him.

curls, a smiley person, and of course sarcastic.

you noticed lando was heading towards your direction and stopped exactly infront of you, “you must be oscar’s girlfriend right?”

you had a confused face on and laughed, “no that’s lily, i’m his best friend”

“oh, my bad. I’m sure you know about me from oscar?” he held his hands out, and you shook his hands

“yeah, lando right? i’m y/n”

“are you searching for him?” Lando asked you noticing you were walking around the paddock without him

you shook your head “i’m just familiarising myself, was a-bit bored. Oscar’s a-bit busy right now”

“well then i’ll be your guide for the day, y/n” this time lando walked the same pace as you, completely abandoning his scooter by the side of the hospitality.

By the end of the day, you were well contented with Lando’s presence with you, he had introduced you to a few of his friends and some of the grid drivers. Oscar had warned you about lando’s past, stereotypically his flirty personality.

You had seen his flirty traits but you couldn’t care less, instead lando seems like a long-lost friend you’ve never met.

“thanks lando for giving me a great tour of the paddock, i shall do the same to you whenever you’re in singapore! i know some great places that you’d take pictures with your leica!” the both of you were sat in the hospitality with an ice cream in both of your hands.

“well that’s a promise then, oscar’s probably done right now, i guess it’s my turn, i’ll see you around?”

you smiled and nodded your head, “i’ll be around, can’t get rid of me that easily”

landonorris started following you

lafilledhiver_ just posted

liked by landonorris oscarpiastri maxfewtrell and others

lafilledhiver_ my week in pictures + aus gp 🧡

oscarpiastri shouldn’t it be my garage instead

↳ lafilledhiver_ you’ve been replaced 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

↳ landonorris she’s my best friend now piastri

oscpi81 why did i not know y/n went to aus grand prix 😭

↳ lnaurris if udm answering who is she?

↳ oscpi81 she’s oscar’s best-friend! she used to attend f2 races q frequently!

papayaboys does she not follow lily?

↳ russell44 maybe there’s beef 😐

↳ pastry81 she’s not required to follow her bestie’s gf ig 😂

mclaren our favourite guest is back

liked by lafilledhiver_

“you’re getting cozy with lando, y/n” lily’s voice caught your attention

“he’s a great friend, plus he takes great care of osc” answering to her remarks and getting back your attention to your phone

“i wouldn’t do that if i were you, would not want to tame osc reputation or image” lily shrugged her shoulder

you sighed, you knew when oscar left you with lily, this conversation is bound to happen

“lily, i don’t have an idea on why you’re so against of osc and i’s friendship, you’re the one who has osc head over heels for you. if I were you, I would have just choose to mind my own business, but clearly you can’t seem to do that?”

packing your things up, within the timespan u were packing oscar came to the both of you

“hey i was about to ask, let’s grab dinner together” until he saw you packing ur items in a rushed state

“sorry oscar, another day, i’m not really feeling well” giving him a soft smile and hugging him, bidding him a goodbye

it’s true, you’ve been coughing the whole day and your body has been feeling rather heaty

oscar sighed and faced lily, “what did you say to her this time?”

while walking your way to the hotel, your phone ringed multiple times, and with the distinguished ringtone you knew it was oscar

“finally you’ve answered, lily told me what happened! Look i am sorry alright, i’ve already told lily to be mindful of her words, now can you please follow us to dinner? mom wants you there”

stopping in your tracks, you can’t help but to feel that oscar had never once considered about how you felt about the situation between him and lily

“osc, i’m tired. Have you ever considered talking to me about how i felt about this too? Let me have a break tonight, I’m unwell”

Oscar could been heard walking himself out of the noisy room he was in, and sighed , “i’m coming in few minutes, we’ll talk this out”

“oscar that’s not what i meant” with that he ended the call

you’re pacing around your room, mind clouding with all the possible outcome and the fallout between you and oscar.

the both of you were inseparable since young and to think that a situation like this would actually be a reason of a fallout, aches you.

then you heard a knock, specifically four knocks. Four knocks was oscar way of telling you he’s here whenever he’s over at your house.

you walked towards the door half expecting lily and him at the door, amazed that it was just him this time.

he welcomed himself in and sat on the hotel sofa that was provided in your room, “we’re gonna solve this today, no one is leaving”

this is gonna be a long day.

sighing, you made your way to the empty spot next to him

“there’s nothing to talk about oscar, i was just feeling unwell to attend the dinner. nothing serious, see?” shoving him your proof of the thermometer that you’d just used a few minutes ago

“i’m sorry about lily, i know she doesn’t like you but i’m fixing this okay y/n. I really do want the both of you to get along well!”

sometimes, fixing is never a solution, especially when it comes to these scenarios

“Oscar, don’t waste your time fixing this. she’ll never like me, you’ll have to understand that”

oscar seems confuse with the sentence that had came out of your mouth, “ what do you mean, never.. y/n?”

“oscar, i like you. I’ve been liking you ever-since I’ve gotten to know you. You’re not required to like me back, so don’t bother, but i know lily knows this, that’s probably why she’s protective of you oscar”

the information that was said out by you made oscar shocked and still. This was how he had always reacted to news, be it great or bad news.

“i was probably crazy when i agreed on helping you with your promposal to lily, but you were happy osc. The other times you were so happy was when you won during your races, and i would do anything to just see you, my best friend be happy. I was dumb, i probably thought it was going to get away, i mean that’s what y/bff/n says. Just a small crush, but it’s been years and it’s still the same.”

this time you had to pause whatever you’re saying because you felt tears brimming in the corner of your eyes.

can’t you see that i’m the one who understands you

been here all along, so why can’t you see?

“you made me happy oscar, and i’m happy we’ve met. Things will be awkward afterwards but i’m always here, osc. Lily’s great, she makes you feel happy, and i like that for her. She makes you feel like there is something to actually look forward to every single day, and i wish i had that in me.”

Oscar shifted his sit towards you, and glanced at you, “ i have no idea, y/n..”

well yeah, no shit. he was crazy for lily, of course he had no idea.

“that’s fine osc-“ before completing your sentence, oscar had cut you off

“ i liked you, i did, but when lily came it made me feel different. I never knew you liked me, y/n. This could be us, y/n. I don’t know what to say, i treasure this friendship, you were there for me for all of my races, i liked what we had, y/n.”

and there it was the sentence that you knew you’ll hear someday, being friend zoned.

you stood up, “oscar, let’s just forget this ever happened okay? you can just leave, we’ll see each other per normal, like we had before this conversation”

dragging oscar by you, you led him out of your hotel room, and before oscar could have a say, you slammed the door right by his face.

—

sitting by the side of your bed, looking out to the sky with y/bff/n on the phone, has never been better, especially when you’re finally homed alone.

“it’s crazy how he ignored whatever you said, and declared his love for lily just like that. After all, you’ve been there from the start”

sobbing silently, you couldn’t help but reminiscing the moments when you’ll wake up early in the morning to help out with oscar’s moment to prepare breakfast to bring along to his karting races.

“to be fair, lily’s gorgeous. He always had a huge crush on her. Maybe one day, i too will have someone that’s willing to have that love for me”

your best friend scoffed, “who are you kidding, you’re fucking beautiful. If anyone’s blind, it’s oscar. Who was the one who had a filled to the brim locker of valentines chocolate, surely not lily but you! he’ll regret his choices, y/n”

just remembering the times when you and your best friend had to literally give away chocolate to a bunch of kids made you giggled

—

the following weeks after the incident, things had been silent between the both of you.

it had became a controversial topic for your siblings and your parents to even bring up oscar’s name, and this goes the same to oscar too from what you’ve gotten an update from his sister, who you were still very much close too.

apparently word of mouth has gotten to the public too, especially after you’ve removed oscar and a few other followers from your Instagram in an order to stay more lowkey.

—

i’ll do a part 2 soon, promise! i am finally back from the dead :)! hope yall like this! next part will be an inspired story from ariana’s new song! (we can’t be friends)!!

[cumikering]

Neighbour Ghost x reader 6

2.7k | angst No matter how loyal, guard dogs still have their teeth (part 1) (part 7)

Simon’s steps to your door were heavy, as his heart had been since that call.

Despite his blazing wrath, he was unprepared for the waves of guilt that washed over, the shame that wrestled to drown him. He was unable to protect you from his past – he brought it upon you, even after how much too sweet you’d been, how softly you’d touched him. How could he ever look you in the eye again?

The stray never deserved any of that.

When you gave him a squeeze at the door, he didn’t return it. Still, you tugged him in with the same lovely smile, even when it wasn’t as wide.

“Fancy a cuppa?”

“No.”

Your pretty hand shouldn’t be in his filthy one. Do you even know what I do with these hands?

You sat at the dining table and Simon remained on his feet to your side, eyes fixed on the cup of pu erh before you. His fists clenched and released. You didn’t like pu erh.

At the end of the day, he was still a reaper in dress uniform - one with an unrelenting demon that lurked in the far corner. He could have fucked him up that evening at the bakery. Feel his nose crumble against his knuckles, maybe even the snap of his scrawny neck in his hands.

But no, this happened because he didn't. Like his mum said, you were good for him, of course you were. But was he for you? He was nothing but trouble.

You smiled up at him. Always so sincere, so delicate, making his stomach twist more.

“My dad’s visiting this weekend. I was wondering if you wanted to meet him? And… Um, what I should introduce you-“

Not addicted, he'd tell himself too many times, as if it didn’t sound like a bloody lie to his own ears. You were the beginning of an incurable addiction, a cliff with the bewitching view he was a step away from falling off of.

His gaze left you. “I’m going back home with my mum tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you said, your disappointment evident. “Okay, maybe next time then.”

His heart pounded in his ears as he forced the words out, nails digging into his palms. “We should stop this.”

“What… What are you saying, Simon?”

“This. Meeting you, staying over. I’ll have less time when I become captain. This isn’t going to end well,” he reasoned, but it sounded more like he was convincing himself this was the right thing.

He knew it was, even when it didn’t feel like it, like a lot of things in life. He knew one day he’d be glad he did this. One day, even when right then it felt like the worst thing he could be doing. Would someone, something, rip this decision away from his hands?

“You don't get to say that yet, not right now. I know you're going through a lot.” You reached for his hand. “But we can wait until things settle and we’ll talk-“

He pulled away from your touch. “I've made up my mind. I never meant for things to get this far.”

In the still room, his stare remained on the cup you hadn’t touched since his arrival.

“You knew this all along and you still let it happen,” you said as realisation dawned.

He looked up to meet your hardened gaze. He’d seen you sad, annoyed, angry, but this was the first time your eyes were devoid of warmth. Being the receiving end of that stare was a stab to his chest.

“I should believe people when they show me who they are.” You chuckled humourlessly. “Get out, Simon.”

The world slowed. It was hard to draw his breath as he remained unmoving, like he was chained to the floor of where his sanctuary once was. Despite the arms that ached to wrap around you and never let go, he forced himself to walk away as his blood ran cold.

The door slammed behind him. He didn’t expect a positive response, of course, but it was definitely not the shatter of his own heart.

Still, it didn’t hurt as much as it would have had he waited until you inevitably left him for one reason or another. At least he’d never have to worry about being like his dad, about hurting you, betraying you, if you weren’t there to begin with. Like he’d always known, you deserved better, someone as lovely as you – unlike this stray who would never be enough.

It’s the right thing.

He could give his mum his undivided attention now. She would never leave nor kick him out the door. If he was not wanted, he had to be endlessly needed, used dry until he was nothing but a ghost.

“Who the fuck broke my bloody door!”

Simon and his mum had been waiting for his dad’s return to the house that had turned into a complete mess. Meanwhile, she’d packed as much of her belongings as she could, her luggage in the living room.

“Sign the bloody papers before I make sure you never can anymore,” Simon barked, standing tall next to his sitting mum.

His dad rounded the corner and Simon’s jaw ticked thinking of what he did to you. He let out a weak sigh at the sight of his wife and son at the dining table, a sight he hadn’t seen in over a decade. His eyes softened.

“I don’t want anything from you, James. Please sign them and we’ll be out of here.”

He pulled out the chair across the table and propped his elbows up, face in his hands as he took a deep breath.

“I need to apologise, Melanie,” he began. “I’ve made your life hell, and I know there’s nothing I can do to change that now. I was my fault.”

“She didn’t ask,” Simon said through gritted teeth. He shoved the papers closer when he ached to break the filthy table with his dad’s skull.

“I’m sorry about your last night here. It was unforgiveable, what I did.”

Simon slammed his fist onto the table. He had watched the grand performance too many times. “You’re not fooling anybody with your tricks. Sign the bloody papers. I swear this is the last time I’m asking.”

His mum patted his hand, and he reluctantly took the seat next to her.

“I want you to have the house, Mel. You’ve always kept it too beautiful for a man like me. It’s the least I can give you after everything.” He let out a steady breath, flipping open the document. “I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me for how much I’ve hurt you,” he added quietly.

Was that remorse that settled in his hollow eyes?

His mum bit her lip as a tear slipped. When Simon wrapped an arm around her, she sobbed into his chest.

No words were exchanged as his dad went through the papers, and it remained so until Simon wheeled his mum’s luggage out the door behind her.

“Goodbye, James.” She didn’t spare him another look.

“Simon?” he called in a small voice. “I’m sorry I’m not the father you deserve.”

The lieutenant threw the door shut.

Simon spent the next few days with his mum, Tommy, his wife and son. Since his last visit, Tommy’s got a new job and seemed to be spoiling his son rotten with plenty of new toys, including the shiny red bike outside. Unfortunately, even after over a year, he and Beth still hadn’t had much luck trying for a second child.

Joseph was a brilliant kid with a toothy smile, just like Tommy was, and it always surprised Simon how big his nephew got between each visit. It was a shame he only got to meet his family twice or thrice each year.

“Joe, you’ve been sitting on your uncle’s shoulders all day,” Beth said with an amused smile. “Give him a break.”

“It’s the best seat ever!” His little arms wrapped tighter around Simon’s head, eyes glued onto the cartoon on the telly.

“You need to do your homework.”

“I’ll do it here.” He poked the top of Simon’s head.

He laughed. “I don’t mind.”

She shook her head. “Come on now. Dinner will be ready in an hour. You don’t want to be late.”

“Okay…” he huffed before dragging his feet to his room.

While he flicked through the channels,  Beth went back to the kitchen where his mum was. He wasn’t one to watch the telly apart from football, but his thumb hovered over the button when the Great British Bake Off came on.

He remembered the episode. He’d watched it with you, the only person he ever watched the show with. It was yours, like a secret only the both of you knew.

It’s the right thing.

Faintly, his mum chuckled at something her daughter-in-law said, and his mind couldn’t help but drift to all the times it was you and her in his flat instead. Sharing stories, laughing, while he smiled at the sight from afar.

It’s the right thing, Riley, I promise.

He turned the telly off and went for a walk instead.

At dinner, the table admired little Joe’s drawings he’d done at school – he always saved them for when his daddy came home. With his precious family beaming, it seemed like the life Simon should have had, the one he always imagined was supposed to be like. But even without the devil trailing behind like an ellipsis, this, somehow, didn’t feel right either.

Despite his smile, his chest was heavy with the rotting carcass of the heart he didn't know he still had until weeks ago.

It’s the right thing, it’s the right thing, it’s the right thing.

Later that night, Simon’s head tilted when he entered the guestroom his mum occupied.

“Have you not packed yet? We’re leaving tomorrow. I’ve still got training on Monday.”

On the bed, she lowered her book and frowned. “I’m not leaving. Manchester is my home, Si.”

“Home is where you’re safe, mum, and you’re not here.”

She sighed, the sympathetic kind, before putting her book away. “My well-being and happiness aren’t your responsibility.”

He scoffed. “‘course they are.”

“I can’t thank you enough for thinking about me, but what’s happened, happened. I’m trying to start over, and that includes not being a baggage to you.”

He blinked. “Mum, what are you on about?” he asked carefully as he sat next to her.

“You need to live your life. You push good things away, Si.”

What… “I don’t. You’re all I’ve got.”

“Always so stubborn.” She shook her head. “Don’t make the same mistake I did, Si. My first love… Your granddad didn’t want us together, and I ended up with your dad. I grew to love him, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I chose easy over real. Sometimes I wonder if I’d been less afraid, what life would be like now.

“I'm by no means regretful, because I got to have my two perfect sons, but you had to pay for my mistakes too, and for that I’m yet to forgive myself. I’m supposed to give you a good life, but I didn't. The least I can do now is not hold you back.

Her hands clasped over his. “So live for me, Si. Don't worry about me. Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will always be your mum. I can’t stop loving you even if I tried. I just need to see you happy, that’s all I need from you.”

His gaze dropped to the ground. “I’m not good enough for her,” he muttered.

“That’s not for you to decide.”

“Isn't it too late?”

“Never.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“You make it sound harder than it is.” She cupped his cheek. “It won’t be painless, but if she’s the one, it will be worth it.”

Against his mum’s shoulder, he wished his tears would stop flowing, but with the way she rubbed his back, Simon was once more just a little blond boy with the scraped knee.

From the front porch in the chill night, it was shameless how he called you at that hour, when he didn’t even say goodbye when he left. It was shameless how even after you rejected his calls, he still called for the 5th time, or 10th – he’d lost count. But at last, the line connected.

“Luv,” he said breathlessly, palm pressing against his eyes that had barely dried.

“Please stop calling me.”

“No, wait. Please, listen. Don’t-”

“You’ve made up your mind. Begging only reduces me to nothing, so I didn’t try to change it. I owe you nothing, Simon.”

And the line clicked off.

Still sat on the steps, he blinked at the phone in his hand, deciding if he was going to worsen the situation if he called again. It was shameless that he did anyway, but it went straight to voicemail.

Simon might not have had plenty of dating experience, it was shameless really, but he knew he still had a chance if you were mad.

You’d listen when he showed up at your door, still hauling his backpack.

“Luv, please. Please, listen.”

He thought his heart was about to explode when your footsteps approached. The door opened halfway.

“Hi,” you said, not meeting his eyes.

His breath hitched, and he was near to tears. Despite his resolve, he couldn’t get the words out.

“I've thought about it. You're right. I thought I knew what I was getting into, but it was always so hard to see you leave, and I realised it’s only going to get harder.”

No, no, no...

“Thank you for being honest and saving us from further heartache. I know I didn’t have to block you, but I hope you understand my decision to not be in contact anymore.”

“Luv, no. I wanted- I want to try. I don’t care how hard it gets.“

“I care. I want stability, maybe even a family, and I see now we’re not heading in the same direction.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes and a pained smile. “I wish you all the wonderful things, Simon. Truly, I'm so thankful I got to know you.”

He barely made out the words tumbling out of your lips, wishing he was hallucinating.

“Goodnight, Simon,” you whispered as you closed the door.

Even then, you didn’t give him a foul look for his audacity to show his face after biting the hand that fed him. It was the last time you were going to see him, why did you still have to treat him with respect?

He wished you’d have said something mean, even sick. You should have called him names, tell him he was the most ungrateful man there was, that he was just like his dad, so he had something to hate, so the fire could flare up high once more and he’d be safe behind it like he always was.

But it was you. You could stab him in the chest, and he wasn’t sure it would have been enough to hate you. To overwrite how wonderful you’d been to the wounded stray.

His gaze cast down, unmoving at your door. He did this to himself. It was his fault for dropping his cold stare, for smiling, for looking when you weren’t, cracking his jokes, touching your hand and kissing you, for lying down and baring his belly. It wasn’t your fault you didn’t want him anymore after what he’d done.

If he closed his eyes, he could still see the vivid curve of your lips, your soft laugh, the caress of your fingers. The ache for you morphed into an itch that made him want to claw at his skin, to replace the sweetness with bright, searing pain.

Would you please do the humane thing and shoot him so he didn’t have to drown in the storm that brewed in him?

It was for the best, he told himself. It was what he wanted after all, to keep his problems away from you, to keep you happy, even when he wasn’t in the picture. Leaving you was his repayment for being a thankless beast.

“Just because I go, doesn’t mean my heart follows,” he whispered.

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @lyenera @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @footyandformula @opalesquegirl @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs @strawberrystargal @damalseer @onlineoutcast

[damiansgoodgirll]

can you please write angst with damian priest where him and reader break up because she wants a kid and he doesn’t but deep down he knows he wants a family, but he is scared because he doesn’t want to give up his wrestling career because he thinks he can’t handle family and work together please❤️❤️

damian priest x reader

‼️angst, mention of pregnancy and mention of sex but no actual smut (don’t know if there’ll be a part two sorry)

what i always wanted

it was the way becky told you that you would have been an amazing mother and the way damian was trying to change the topic that you realised that maybe, all you ever wanted wasn’t the same for damian.

you spent an amazing night with becky, seth and their adorable daughter. actually, you spent more time with roux than with becks and seth and you loved every second of it

the ride back home was silent, only music playing in background, knowing that once home you had to talk about it because it was too evident in your eyes the need to talk about the whole situation, about damian changing the subject when becky complimented you on how good you were doing with roux, about you wanting to be a mother and about damian, apparently not wanting to be a father.

“can we talk about it?” you asked him once you both changed for bed.

“about what?” he asked you, sitting in bed.

“about tonight dam…why did you change the subject when becky said i was good with roux? it looked like you were annoyed…” you said.

“what? i didn’t, and i wasn’t annoyed i promise” he said reaching to cup your face with his hands and gently kissing your lips.

“don’t you think it’s time to talk about it?” you asked him, laying in bed and staring at the ceiling.

“what do you want to talk about love?” he asked, getting curious.

“us…the future, a family”

he didn’t reply at first.

“dam?”

“you’re not happy with me?” he asked.

“i’m so happy with you dam and i love with all my heart, we’ve been together for four years now and i wouldn’t change it in any other way…but we never talked about having a family…i feel like we should have this conversation” you said , slowly sitting in bed, facing him.

“why now? i thought everything was fine…it was because of roux?” he asked.

“i don’t know, maybe…everything is fine damian but i was wondering if it’s time for us to start a family…” you said softly.

“i don’t know mi amor…i don’t even know if it’s the right moment to have this conversation, it’s midnight and we’re both tired…shouldn’t we have this conversation another day?” he asked yawning and maybe he was right.

so weeks passed.

months passed.

and you both went on with your lives.

he took you on some fancy trips. you had the best sex, like always. you had dates every week. you had sex again. you had your little fights that always ended up with make up sex and damian apologising. everything was normal, except you never had that conversation again.

and in all honesty, you were getting tired of it.

in these past months you’ve spent more times helping becky with roux and the desire of being a mother grew. your best friend son, who was now 5 said how you were his favourite aunt and how he loved spending time with you. you even babysat your neighbour’s daughter when she needed a little help with her work shift.

you needed to talk about it with damian but you never knew when or if it was the right time. when you tried to talk about it last week, he stopped you, not even letting you finish and began to talk about wrestlemania.

that comported a fight between the two of you, that ended up having sex on the kitchen counter.

and then on the kitchen table.

one night, after dinner, you’ve been cuddling on the couch while watching a show that in reality neither of you were paying attention to.

damian knew something was wrong the moment he came home from training. how you both sat in silence while eating your dinner, but he was too scared to ask.

“dam?” you called him.

“yes?”

“can we talk?” you asked him now sitting on the couch in front of him.

“sure…”

“i’ve been thinking…we’ve been together for a while now, we have this amazing home together…what do you think about kids?” you were patiently waiting for his answer.

“us? having kids?” he asked you.

“yes! i mean, not now…we could wait for a few years but i really wanted to talk about it with you…do you want a family?” tears were gathering in your eyes when you saw how hesitant he was being.

“y/n…”

“dam” you said standing in front of him “it’s an easy question. yes or no? do you want a family?”

“it’s never an easy question if it’s involving kids…it’s not a yes or no type of question. it takes time raising a child…mi amor, it takes a lot of time and effort and money and…i don’t know…i never pictured myself being the type of father guy…i don’t see myself with kids”

his answer broke you.

“do you want kids y/n?”

“yes…” you whispered “more than anything…”

“why did you never talk about it?” he asked, leaving you speechless for a second.

“i tried damian, i tried…but you stopped me…taking about wrestlemania or your training with dominik…”

“no i mean…why you never said that when we started dating” he asked you.

“what? why? would it make any difference now?” you were shocked.

“you always knew i wasn’t the type to settle with a van, kids and dogs running in the house, the type of guy with a normal job, coming home every night and kissing you good night…i’m always travelling and luckily you’re able to follow me everywhere but how would it be with kids? they need stability, they need a home and we both know we can’t…i can’t provide those things with the type of life i have…i don’t wanna settle with leaving you pregnant and home alone, i don’t wanna settle with being away all week and coming home just for the weekend…i don’t want that” he said. his words breaking all the hope you had left.

in reality, damian wanted to have kids, a family with you.

he was scared.

scared of failing.

as a partner. as a father.

scared of being too old for raising kids now.

he knew his job was a hard job, especially if kids were involved.

he didn’t want kids before but everything changed when he met you. he was just too afraid of having something good happen and now he was pushing you away. he could tell how broken you were, how disappointed you were.

being a parent is a completely new experience and he was sure he wasn’t good at it. maybe because of his rockstar lifestyle before meeting you. maybe because he never saw himself with kids before. maybe because he was scared of not being able to focus on family and career at the same time.

he was just too scared and he was pushing you away.

“dam…please…we can’t let this thing break us apart…i love you so much and i want to spend the rest of my life with you but”

“but what?” he asked, watching you crying. seeing the damage he just done “i love you so much y/n but my answer is no. you asked me if i wanted kids and my answer is no.”

“so it’s over?” you asked him, not even being able to look at him in the eyes.

“you want to be a mother y/n” he came closer to you “i can read it in your eyes, i can see it when you’re playing with roux or holding our neighbour’s daughter, i feel it everytime we walk by to a kids store or a playground, how you admire all the kids playing with their friends…i love you so much y/n, that’s why i have to let you go…you deserve to find someone who shares the same wishes as you” he said, taking your face in his hands and slowly kissing your head.

i want to be that man - his mind kept screaming.

but fear stopped him.

so that’s how you ended up in your best friend’s guest room. rhea was the first person you called when you and damian broke up and to say she was mad - no, she was pissed at damian for being so stupid to let you go.

three weeks have passed since you last spoke with him and the pain you were experiencing was too much. damian wasn’t good either - rhea said - staying away from you was hurting him too.

three weeks of no contact. three weeks of feeling like shit. you were eating less and throwing up more. always sleeping in, never going out. no matter how hard rhea and buddy tried to get you out of the bed, you always refused. you felt like shit but you never felt like that shit. you had no energy, always tired and sick. you blamed everything on the break up but deep down you knew there was something off.

rhea blamed it on damian. on how he was hurting you and on how stupid he was.

but curiosity kicked in when you realised something was more than off as it was the first time you were feeling so weird.

that’s how you found yourself, sitting on the bathroom floor with a test in your hands.

“pregnant.”

[adoregojo]

mikage's 5 steps guide! - nagi.s

i missed writing for nagi... my loverboy.. also this writing style is so fun??? wth??? i need to write like this again. i can barely keep one eye open so if there's any typo, ignore pls pls.

warnings: some cussing ig?

nagi was never that charming.

'charming' couldn't even stand being a word in his dictionary to be honest, nagi truly had zero sense of romance within him. he was an actual brick-walled person when it came to these things, or anything of strong-emotions in particular, there was no thoughts behind those void eyes of his but a circle of: sleep, eat, go to work, eat again, play games, sleep, and repeat.

even back to his high school years, not once he recalls talking to a girl, let alone getting a girlfriend, that was something beyond out of his character. maybe there was a girl that confessed to him, he remembered on valentines day he got a letter saying that he should go to the school's roof. and he ended up leaving the poor girl hanging on the air till the sky was clean orange because he genuinely 'forgot', nagi then earned the title 'heartbreaker' for a year straight, he let it be since it was much of a hassle to keep on correcting them. not like his reputation was any better before.

so you could say that nagi wasn't that much of a company to have around, on the other hand was his friend, reo who was basically the opposite of nagi, if anything he was prince charming himself. those social skills were enough to befriend anyone on sight, he got the looks, money and attention was surrounding him 24/7.

and even if reo gather the earth power to try and motivate nagi would go down hill, every time he tried setting him on a date it's either gonna end up horrible or nagi using the excuse to go to the bathroom and vanish to the nowhere. what an asshole.

at some point, reo accept the fact that maybe he's friend will in fact die alone.

and things switched around when you came to the picture.

first it wasn't that hard to notice you, your desk was glued to him after all. it was weird when you would greet him every morning and wish him a good night when you left, no one ever did that to him before, he tends to ignore and ends up being ignored. it was nice, a little reminder that somone was seeing him, acknowledging him.

slowly, the walls between you two was falling apart with each introduction. when you would pat him from his little naps for lunch time, or when it was leaving time, then he would stare at your back until your figure disappeared with a last wave, staring at the door for a little too long, perhaps wishing for you to walk back in.. who said that?

it was getting worse, or better, not the best at analysing his feelings. but nagi found himself looking out for a glimpse of you around the office, he has no shame to admit that the world suddenly felt gloomy without your presence beside him.

maybe he raised his head a little too fast when you walked in, maybe not. but he mostly did.

then you would ramble about how your shitty neighbour refused to clean after his pets filth and you two had a screaming match for a while before realising you were late. the was the worst way to start a monday morning, so you closed your eyes shut, rubbed your forehead for a peace of mind. then you opened your eyes, a piece of your favourite snaked would magically appear on your table.

for some reason your eyes traveled to the white painted head, he was looking at the other side, avoiding your questionable gaze hoovering over him.

Mondays aren't so bad after all, you thought.

perhaps he did place it there, who knows. —but nagi just really didn't like seeing you glum.

possibly, did he grew fond of you? he doesn't know. all he knew that lunch box you handed him the next day is a blessed gift within his palms. too good for him, you were too good for him.

you were the prove that the sky itself favoured him above anyone.

and when nagi wanted to ask you out, he only had one person to guide him to your heart.

so the very mysterious person behind the scene (reo) had a astounding idea that if someone like nagi; mister, game-addiction-freak. that on every step he'll get points! 100-90 if he did well, 80-70 not bad, 60-40 could've been worse.. 40-20 definitely could've been better... 20-0 yikes....

so with that, nagi was sent on a personal mission to win you over and soothe you with his nonexistent charm.

STEP ONE: be straightforward! it's not good to keep on dancing on someone's mindset with hints, it may cause a lot of confusion feelings and misunderstandings! only ask under a certain circumstances, a suitable place where were you two sit alone so they could have they're attention on you only. SIDE NOTE: try to make a good welcoming conversation to ease up the tension first then ask!

so nagi did just that, maybe a little too well.

he couldn't even eat his own lunch and just kept on rubbing his sweaty hands against each other's, staring back forth —he just noticed how many unfamiliar faces were there? did he really only seeyou?一 he was extra quiet which made you ask him multiple times if he was okay, he would just hum in response. what a smooth talker.

"nagi, you haven't even touched your food. are you actually okay?" you questioned, concerned. after taking a brief sip of your juice, but nagi just shook his head in conform, you raised a brow, a little in disbelief that he would think an obvious lie would go through you just like that. there was something off. the tension upon you two was twisting.

the words were on the tip of his tongue, yet they felt un-removed. all this stressing over four words were a pain, and a heavy burden he needed to reales before he lose his breathing track.

and the moment you took a bite and chewing on it, he just had to drop the bomb carelessly.

"go out with me."

so nagi didn't try and sooth the air, nor start a decent conversation. and when he gathered the earth courage to speak up, it wasn't even a question, that was a whole ass demand.

although, it worked. but it definitely could've gone better than you choking on your own food that you swore you witnessed death himself laughing his ass off at you.

what a great timing.

after you saw the heavens gates open for you and life flashing through your eyes, weirdly enough, you accepted.

huh, maybe he didn't mess up everything like he thought (he in fact did).

20 points!

STEP TWO: dress nice and compliment their outfit! dressing well means that you take the date seriously, complimenting them to foster a better sense of comfort and confidence, and they'll compliment you back! extra points if you made them all blushy and giddy!

nagi really wasn't the best at this.

instead of dressing 'nicely', all he wore was a big white hoodie and pants. didn't put much effort to his hair and just went off. it wasn't his problem that picking an estimated outfit was such a hassle. it's good at least it is something that covers him, right?

it all went downhill when you showed up, listen. he always thought you looked fit and nice in your suit work, and now he definitely wasn't ready to see you in regular, uniform out of work place. you just looked... so good, even great, stunning and beautiful, you name it.

nagi barely breath out a greeting, his eyes too busy scanning you from head to toe over and over, he couldn't take his gaze out of your sight even when you were on your way to the table. and he almost stumbled over twice for that, the first was nearly his face planting on the floor, and the second time he almost knocked out a whole plate of drinks. you just somehow managed to muddle over half of senses with your looks alone, maybe he should've considered writing his last letter.

"nagi.. you're staring too much."

the of yours dragged him out of his thoughts line. he saw as you held a sheepish— extra points?—expression, it was either from his heart-eyes eating you alive, or the date itself was bringing you to the nervous state, or both?

nagi cleared his throat, slightly cringing at himself for staring a little too hard. he was absolutely not doing reo's steps justice.

"sorry. you just, look really pretty." if not the prettiest of all, but again, nagi has eyes for you only to pay a mind to others around him.

your breath halts at that, you don't know what to say for a second, nagi himself was complementing you? and the fact that he said as it was a matter of a fact was such an out character thing. but at the same time a an amiable change. and it was for you only.

"thank you, I appreciate that." you say as you kept on twirling your fingers over your hair, you felt like a lovesick teenager. "I think you look very nice as well." you add, almost like a whisper, he still managed to catch it.

nagi let out a scoff, not even a smile forming on his features for that. "it's just hoodie, really."

"i still like it, it's very like you. I'm happy seeing that you can be yourself around me."

he flinch a bit at that, he really wasn't ready for this- it takes a strong-soulful soldier to handle this. and he really, really wanted to be gods strongest warrior just for you. so he gets a grip on himself and mumble a thanks.

you smile sweetly at that, and nagi may really be not the strongest soldier under your spell.

50 points!

STEP THREE: make a conversation! show interest in their personal life and listen to every ramble they have, try to also throw side comments there and here to support them and blow away any negative feelings of the talk being one-sided. also try and talk about your own life to make it easier for them to talk all night. SIDE NOTE: try and joke around to bloom a friendly tune. extra points if you made them laugh!

third time's a charm, right?

however, since nagi was uncommonly unfond of others babbling. in fact he found it annoying and it was hard keeping his eyes evenly open. but then when it comes to you, he found your feathery tune to be airy, he grew ease to it pitch.

so he handed over all his senses of hearing to you on one knee, and let you speak freely. switching between different topics form nowhere, and like the world- his world- itself was turning for you only, his eyes and soul was for you to talk and he'll rot into a shallow void to your lovely enunciate to play on a broken radio repeating.

maybe he should tell you to stop, because your non-touched food was getting cold, and maybe he should tell that to himself that too because he didn't even realize his plate was even there.

it felt like he had drifted from the original plan, instead the tables were turned and he was the one being swoon by you..

not that he minded honestly. but ending the night with you being the one who filled the space was enough to create a makeshift reo berating him, nevertheless, nagi really, really wanted you to like him back. to consider the idea of another date with him.

plus, he also liked your laugh, he really did. didn't the guide say something about making you laugh? even tried telling a joke that you actually chuckled at, something that was unneeded to say that his book was empty, he had to search on google "funny jokes" for gods sakes, how hopeless can he possibly get?

"why couldn't the sunflower ride it bike?" nagi utter flatly, "why" you slope your head to the side. "because it lost it petals." the joke was old, dusty, forsaken. and the urge to recoil the second it left his mouth was understandable. but somehow you still pushed out a laugh at it, you don't know if it was an amusingly one, or because that nonchalant face was clearly begging you to laugh. with that monochromatic tone and all made it even funnier.

that bloomed the smallest amount of exhilaration within his rib cage. it was lovely, and what was made the giddiness to flourish inside his belly was the fact that he was the reason for it. it felt priceless. a sight to a crave in his midst. completely bizarrely about all of this, nagi let's you take over him. to consume him, his heart, his breath and soul were yours to claim.

at least he did something good that night?

70 points!

STEP FOUR: walk them back home! it's quite a simple act but very affected and gentlemanly, make sure to make them feel save and guarded! hidden notes: try to hold their hand!

after paying the price, you and nagi take your leave. with also nagi's off attitude with him opening the doors for you and let you walk first. although, who were to complain about such a treatment? you'll take it

but weirdly enough, nagi was a bit on the edge. like he had a n amount of ants in his pants, couldn't look at your direction, barely spoke out a response, or anything in general. and 一was he holding his breath???一

wait, was nagi actually.... nervous?

you glanced at him, shoulders stiffened, hands moving too much and fast, mouth was dry and agape, half dizzy 一when he isn't?一

now that you did not expect.

it was even ten times worse than him in the cafeteria earlier, it felt like nagi was about to confess to you his cruelest crime. the tenseness was mixed with the deep-seated tenderness, nevertheless, it was a bittersweet taste. and it kept on going until you two stood together by your home.

"i had fun tonight, nagi." you spoke first.

he finally flinched out of his own world, he sees you rubbing your arm, the gesture was sketchy, almost as if you were waiting for him to say something, anything.

but nagi's mind was blank, blow out an air in his ear and it will run out of the other, empty head. yet his mind was roaming, that need to say something clung up to him again. too many thoughts he cannot process.

but all nagi did know was he wanted you to stay a little longer.

"that's.. good?" he should have stayed quiet, what kind of answer is that.

you nodded awkwardly in agreement, breathing out an 'yeah..' he felt a bit guilty at making you feel uncomfortable, the fact of him being unfaithful may have crossed your mind, and nagi didn't like it. but you always managed to make feel weird, he always felt too warm when you would get close to him, words were lost when he would look at your eyes, and now this..

but despite everything, he felt like himself when he was with you the most..

every game had it secret move, and his was that he need to let himself be.

"can we do this again? i also had a good night." a part of nagi wanted to add that it was one of the best nights he ever had, yet it was too cheesy, cringe.

"yes!" you replied, too fast. you sounded so desperate! you palmed your mouth, embarrassment remains on your face as you cleared your throat. "i mean.. yes, we can do this again."

nagi had to physically bent down his head, he was gonna set you on fire alive with his eyes, if he may say, you looked cute when flustered. and his heart wouldn't stop beating so infuriated, almost bursting out raw of chest.

nagi for some reason, stretched out his arms. it was bold and he knew it, he just did it and hoped for you to handle it. "um.. can i?" he sees you halting at your place. eyes ogling around but his own.

you walk up all jittery to him until there's barely any inches left between the two of you, you kept your eyes glued to your feet as if it was the most interesting thing in this moment, but it's also like you were asking him if it was okay, unsureness. so he pushes your head gently forward to rest on his stiffen chest. an arm runs around your back to force you as close as possible to him.

you shrivel when nagi's nose would be buried deep unto your hair locks. your scent would draw him at slacken, his whole body bending against yours that you felt like he wanted to crawl under your skin desperately, searching for the seeds of endless love you endowed to him.

you didn't know if you were somehow intoxicated, but you swore that you felt a pair of soft lips pressing against your skull, god, you felt like melting and soon to become a paste sliding down between his fingers. you gently pushed yourself back, and perhaps you imagined nagi's whining for you to not let go. it's like you were gonna fly away once he unwrapped you free. the second you meet his face, a pout expression on his lips, and you couldn't help yourself from cupping his cheeks, squeezing them slightly. a smile made it way to your face as his eyebrows grew frowned.

nagi's hands were on yours, pulling them down from his face, but not too far. unabashedly keeping his eyes locked with yours, he was holding you tight and close, basically hostage. the bug-stomach is back at again but more fiercely than ever.

80 points!

FINAL STEP: kiss.

the dull hue travels down on your lips. boldly, he doesn't look away for what felt like eternity, if anything it seems like they grew heavy the second you parted them slightly to say something that sticked on your tongue.

"can i kiss you?"

was he trying to kill you?

you don't respond, instead you made a move to give him a quick peck on his cheek. backing off faster than ever. nagi stood still, rooting in his place, completely bamboozled. his mind stopped working and his eyes were drifting off in different directions.一is it normal that he felt like melting to the ground?一

"im so sorry, nagi- i just got really nervous and-"

"seishiro."

"eh?"

"seishiro, call me seishiro." he finally found a piece of mind to say. he didn't know if it came out as a command, but he sincerely wanted you to call him by his name. he'd die a happy man then.

"well.. goodnight, seishiro. can't wait for our next date," you said, weaving before your door. nagi barely being able to wave back, his mind was still half empty. you just made him see the light of the stars and left with with the sweetest, loveliest smile for him to think about for the next couple of weeks.

maybe he stood there for a little longer than he should have, his face was on fire, his heart on race track. antithesis of the nonchalant face he had, he made a move to rub the spot you pressed your soft lips against. and the first thing that came to his mind that it was definitely worth it.

and by now, he absolutely forgot about the points and the game itself. oh well, at least half of it worked. he just did it in his own version, which apparently was charming to you. nagi thinks if being charm to you, than he can come over anything.

limitless points! you have made your own path to the heart!

[powerfultenderness]

neighbour!könig’s reaction when he sees a guy walk out of your apartment . need your thoughts on that

omg, the man is gutted! Absolutely heartbroken! Especially after you asked to sit on his couch like that! 😆 He gets jealous but if you aren't technically together, then he realizes that he doesn't have a right to be so jealous and is a little overwhelmed with sadness!

So, last night König deviated from my outline! How very rude of him. But despite a power outage this morning, he was all over this and provided some fluff of the hurt comfort variety!

Even before he joined the military, he was an early riser. The sun was just starting to rise when he stepped out of this flat and heard the door to your flat open. He turned, smile already lighting his eyes, when instead of seeing you, there was a man. He had a slender but muscular build; the sleeveless workout top he wore gave plenty of proof of the man’s definition. The man, taller than you, shorter than him, looked at him a little warily, good. The man gave him a subtle nod as if to greet him then went down the stairs ahead of him. 

A sense of smugness, along with the sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of you with another man, washed over him as he noticed how quickly that man moved, how quickly he tried to run. König’s long stride made it easy to keep up, though, and he was only a step behind as the guy exited the building. He watched as the man practically sprinted to… guest parking. That was it then, you had had an overnight guest, a man. And König found himself jealous. 

-

He tried to ignore the bitter, pitiful, sensation that plagued him all day, but was not very successful. What was he supposed to think of when thoughts of you led to the sad reminder that you had chosen someone else? He certainly shouldn’t be thinking about using the man’s license plate number to find out more about him, where he worked, for instance. 

Now on his way home for the evening, climbing up the stairs to his flat, beer and food in his hands, he was met with another painful sight. The man was back, leaving again apparently, and you leaned forward, pressed your lips to the left side of his face, then again to the right side. 

“Alright, be careful!” You bid the man good night, “text me when you get home.” 

König wanted to sigh, he pouted underneath his hood. The way you had the capacity to care for others so much was one of the things he liked about you, but right about now, he wished you only cared for him.

“Oh! Hi, König!” You caught him before he could enter his flat.

He looked at you and tried to smile, but even he could tell it didn’t quite meet his eyes. "Hello."

“I have something for you!”

“Me?” You nodded, “hold on a sec, let me grab it!”

He unlocked and left his door open while you disappeared for a second, just so he could put his groceries down. You came back, knocking on the open door, with a plastic food container and a smile adorning your face.

“Come,” he invited you in, his prior sorrow temporarily forgotten at your friendly disposition. Friends, yes, maybe friends was ok.

“Liliana wanted you to have some cake! She said after all that candy you bought, you must have a sweet tooth!” 

He took the offered confection and set it down on the table, next to his beer. “It’s her birthday?” 

“No. She had this big performance today. The whole family gathered at my sister’s place to congratulate her. The place was pretty crowded, with my parents there too, so my brother stayed with me last night.” 

König blinked. “Your…brother?” Now that he thought about it, the man did bear a slight resemblance to you…

“Mmhm.” You nodded then tilted your head, “what’s up with you? Everything ok?” The man was your brother! 

König let out a loud and boisterous laugh. “Everything is perfect! Please thank the little mouse for me!” 

“Mouse?” You scoffed, “wait till you get to know her.” You’re pretty sure she loudly told you to take a slice of cake to your “nice neighbor man” to embarrass you in front of the family, little shit. 

He laughed again, “I would like to!” Because that would mean you incorporating him into your life even more! “Will you eat with me?” He asked once his chuckling faded.

“Well, I’ve had my fill of cake, but I’d love to hang out.” 

Oh, he’d love that too!

[More neighbor König]

[blahblahblees]

Hey there!!!

This is my first time requesting on Tumblr and I am not sure if you're accepting requests or not so if you aren't feel free to ignore it.

Can you please write a short drabble on Rodrick and the reader being neighbours and the reader liking him but not telling him because he likes Heather. And then everything happening at rodrick's party.

And all the drama can go according to your imagination!

I am sorry for my bad English.

Have a good day/night/evening/afternoon.

Thank you.

ヽ｀、☁ヽ｀─── make you mine ミ rodrick heffley

✎ ·˚ ༘ ─── reader has a crush on rodrick but his eyes seemed to be locked on heather hills, but when greg takes notice of rodrick’s lyrics, his perspective begins to change.

wc: 1,333

movie!rodrick heffley x fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), the use of y/n (your name)

tw: kissing (?)

a/n: your english is wonderful :)

HEATHER HILLS. The way her name rolled off of the tongue made her seethed in ways she couldn’t explain. It wasn’t because she was jealous of her, she knew that Heather Hills was gorgeous, but she (herself) was also just as beautiful. She liked her hair, she liked her body, she liked her style, and she liked Rodrick Heffley.

But his eyes seemed to be locked on Heather Hills. He always talked about her long blonde hair and how her outfits just perfectly fit her. It was Heather Hills this and Heather Hills that… but she let him go on about her.

It was an awful thing to do to herself, but here she was, once again, sitting with him in his dining room as he explained his plan to her.

His band, Löded Diper, had somehow convinced Heather to perform at her birthday party. She didn't know how they convinced her to let them play or even why for that matter, but it was good enough for Rodrick.

Her eyes watched as Rodrick scribbled down songs for them to potentially play at her party along with some newer lyrics that would "tell her how much he loved her", which she didn't quite understand. Rodrick hadn't really known Heather for long, quite literally meeting her at school when he was picking up Greg.

"... So, what do you think?"

She looked up from Rodrick's notebook and towards him. She was so in her own mind that she hadn't realized that he'd been speaking to her.

"I'm sorry." She muttered. "What did you say?"

"I asked if the hook should be changed so it fits for the party..." He answered. "Are you listening?"

"Yeah... yeah." She answered, sitting upright in her seat. "Sorry." She apologized once more and quickly gathered her belongings.

"What's wrong?" Rodrick asked, his brows furrowed by her sudden movements. "Where are you going?"

"I should head home." She said. "My mom is expecting me soon and I have to help her with dinner tonight."

Rodrick nodded, slowly standing up and following the girl to the front door. "I'll see you at Heather's party tomorrow, right?"

She closed her eyes for a moment before turning, her hand resting on the doorknob as she looked at him. She really didn't want to go to Heather's party and had planned on it, in fact, she was pretty sure it was an invite-only party and she hadn't gotten an invitation from the girl.

But she was pretty sure that Rodrick was going to find a way for her to get inside, invite or not.

So, she took in a small breath and nodded. "See you there."

With that, she quickly shut the door behind her and headed towards her car, and sped out of the Heffley driveway.

"I can't believe some of the stuff you write in here."

Rodrick quickly turned at the sound of the voice. It was Greg. He was standing at the dining room table with his eyes locked on Rodrick's songbook.

"Is this what being in love is like for you?" Greg asked. "If so, she just went out the door without a kiss goodbye."

Rodrick quickly marched over towards him and grabbed the book before he quickly hit Greg with it. "What are you talking about, dork?"

Greg muttered something under his breath, rubbing his arm in the process. "That stuff... that stuff you call music. That's about Y/N, isn't it?"

"What?" Rodrick scoffed. "No. This is for Heather's birthday tomorrow."

"You're going to sing a love song to another girl at Heather's birthday party?" Greg chuckled. "Are you crazy?"

"You're going to be crazy dead if you don't shut up." Rodrick barked and held his book in the air once more, prepared to hit Greg with it, but the younger boy quickly ran off before anything else could happen.

Rodrick heavily sighed and sat back down at the table. He flipped his book open and tapped back and forth against the table as he went over the lyrics once more, just to make sure everything was perfect for...

But the more he looked at his lyrics, the more and more that he imagined her… he only saw her.

With a heavier sigh, he shut his songbook and slumped down into his seat, rubbing his hands over his face before stopping halfway and sitting up quickly.

He knew what he had to do.

HEATHER’S PARTY was in full swing.

People had been partying for quite some time before she arrived. She obviously wasn’t going to upstage Heather, she didn’t think that was possible with how outlandish Heather’s party had been, but still, she chose to dress up for the party and stay until Rodrick’s band called it for the night, which may take hours at the rate this party was going.

But as soon as Rodrick set eyes on her, he sat his guitar down and told his band to just go with the flow until he got back.

He took in a deep breath, and gently shook his hands to bring himself some comfort. He titled his head side to side before finally reaching her side by the punch bowl.

“You made it.” Rodrick smiled.

She turned at the sound of his voice and nodded, taking a small sip from her drink. “Yeah, of course.” She smiled. “Couldn’t miss the best band play their biggest gig.”

Rodrick smiled at her words, whether or not she meant what she said didn’t matter. She said them to make him feel good, to bring him comfort over the fact that he was about to tell Heather Hills that he liked her.

Or so she thought.

“Did I miss your love bomb to Heather?” She asked.

And she really hoped she had.

“Uh, not quite, no.”

She furrowed her brows at his response. “Everything okay?”

Rodrick's heart was racing as he looked at her. He knew he needed to tell her how he felt; he just didn't know how. But as he looked into her eyes, he found himself lost for words. All he wanted to do was kiss her.

Without warning, he leaned in and captured her lips with his own. It was a soft, gentle kiss, but it was filled with all the emotion he had been trying to hide from her.

When they pulled apart, he could see the surprise in her eyes. "I'm sorry," he said quickly.

She blinked. “You’re- You’re sorry? What- What-“ She stammered, her face growing red as she flustered her words. “What about Heather?”

“I don’t think- It was never Heather was into.” He said. “I mean, yeah, she’s hot, but she doesn’t make me feel the way I do when I’m with you. All those songs I was writing were never about her.”

As Rodrick spoke, she could feel her heart racing. Did he really just say what she thought he said? Could it be possible that he liked her as much as she liked him?

"Really?" she asked, her voice soft.

He nodded. "Really.”

Without hesitation, she leaned in and captured his lips with her own. It was a deep, passionate kiss, filled with all the emotions they had been holding back for so long. Her body melted into his as their lips moved in perfect harmony, each kiss taking them deeper and deeper into the moment.

When they finally pulled away, they were left breathless and dizzy with desire. She looked up at him with a shy smile, her heart beating like a drum in her chest.

"I've loved you for so long," she said softly.

"I know," he replied, cupping her face in his hands. "I've loved you too, but I didn't have the courage to tell you until now."

She leaned into him, her head resting against his chest. "I'm so glad you did," she whispered.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

This would be the only time that Rodrick would be thankful of Greg.

— lucy has something to say !!

i think i’m gonna start using you and yours again lol

but regardless, my request are opened! check out my rules and such before requesting and check out my masterlist to see who i write for!

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Seventeen - The Third Date

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

2.1K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

warnings: smut, p in v, hickies, blowjob

Series Masterlist

The third date. That was meant to be the big one, right? The one where... it happened? She had no reason to be nervous. It was Daniel, a man she knew incredibly well, a man she was pretty sure she was in love with.

With Milo eating his dinner, Y/N went to the neighbours door and knocked.

The neighbours Seventeen year old daughter pulled open the door. "Hey Miss L/N," she said. "Do you want me to get my mum?"

"Actually, Mol, I'm here to see you. Would you fancy babysitting Milo tonight? I can pay and I've got pizza money for you," she said.

"I'd love to," Mollie answered. "Let me just check with my mom."

The door shut in Y/Ns face and she waited patiently for Mollie to get back to her with an answer. If she couldn't get a babysitter for Milo she'd just have to reschedule with Daniel. Daniel wouldn't mind. He might even suggest to bring Milo along.

The door opened again and Mollie nodded her head. "She said its fine, Miss L/N. What time do you want me there?" She asked.

At 7PM, Y/N was ready to go. She was dressed to the nines, wearing her favourite dress, her favourite shoes and her favourite jewellery. Milo had told her all about his new favourite dinosaur as she did her hair and makeup.

At 7PM, Mollie the neighbour came over to begin babysitting and Y/N left. She kissed Milos head as she said goodbye and walked out of the front door, driving her way to Daniels house.

She didn't know what he had in store for their third date. Neither did Daniel until a couple of days ago. All he knew was that be wanted it to be special. Just them, not surrounded by loads and loads of people.

For days he had been attempting to cook and forcing his friends to try it. Day by day he got slightly better, but he was still nervous about the date to come.

He had started cooking as Y/N drove. He had done his preparation fir the meal during the day. All that was left to do now was cook it.

Just like she was, Daniel was dressed at his best. It felt incredibly strange to be dressed in a suit for a dinner in his own house. The candles were set out on the table, along with his best wine and best cutlery. This night was going to be perfect.

The doorbell rang and Daniel felt his anxiety spike. It didn't need to, it was Y/N, the person he was expecting.

When the door opened, his breath caught his his throat. He knew she was beautiful, knew she was incredibly beautiful, but this was something else. "Holy shit," he breathed as he welcomed her into the house.

Her shoes clicked against the floor as she stepped towards him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. When she pulled away the imprint of her lipstick was still there and she went to wipe it away, bur Daniel stopped her. He'd wear it with pride for the entire night.

"Milo is with a babysitter, so you've got me for the entire night," she said as Daniel led her into his kitchen.

He lit the candles and poured her some wine. The night started out as easy, light conversation. They sipped the wine slowly as they talked, and the conversation turned to heavier topics, the kinds of things they found themselves talking about late at night where she couldn't sleep and Daniel was in another country.

He tried with the dinner, he really did. But she had to step in. The recipe was open on the counter top and she cooked away.

"I'm sorry," Daniel said as he wrapped her arms around her hips. "I'm so useless."

"Shut up," she said with a laugh as she moved the food around in the pan, ensuring it cooked evenly. "It's a good thing I enjoy cooking, huh?"

She plated the food up and they sat at the table, talking their way through dinner.

"This is the third date," said Danny between bites of the food. That was delicious, but it didn't surprise him. "And, since it's the third date I was wondering if... you'd..."

It was so difficult to get the words out of his mouth. And she didn't want to assume that he wanted to take things to the next level.

Daniel groaned and finished off his glass of wine. That was all if the courage he needed. "Be my girl," he said. "I want to love you properly."

The dinner was abandoned. The moved around the table to get to each other. As soon as they were together she wrapped her arms around his neck and he placed hers on her hips, holding her flush against him.

"Yes, Danny. Oh My God, yes."

He pressed his lips against hers. Her eyes shut and her hands Oundle his hair, moving through it, tugging at the strands.

Daniel couldn't stop the groan that left his lips. His body was fully pressed against hers, pressing her against the table. "Fuck," he groaned, his grip growing tighter. He ever so slightly hiked up the skirts of her dress.

"Take me upstairs," she whispered against his lips.

Daniel picked her up. He took her into his arms and carried her through his house. It was incredibly romantic, the way he held her so tight. She couldn't help but stare at him as he carried her up the stairs. This must be how wonderful brides felt on their wedding days.

Daniel took her into her bedroom and laid her down onto the bed. As soon as he could he resumed kissing her, his body on top of hers, pressing her into the mattress. They'd kissed before, sure, but they didn't usually allow this for themselves, didn't allow for this much intimacy.

But they couldn't stay away from each other. Daniel wanted her. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything. It was a good thing she wanted him too.

Her skirts bunched up around her hips as she wrapped her legs around him. Daniel couldn't help himself; he rutted against her. She whined, her hands finding his hair, tugging slightly. He couldn't stop the groan leaving his lips.

"I need you," she whispered and rolled onto her stomach. Daniel obliged, unzipping her dress. He pushed it off of her shoulders, goose bumps following where he touched. "Danny," she whispered.

He slowly pulled her dress all of the way off until she was in nothing but lingerie beneath him. She'd taken her time choosing it out. It was her best pair, the only pair truly sexy. It was plain, with thin straps around her shoulders and her hips. A small bow sat in the centre of each piece of underwear, and the border was scalloped.

Daniel let out a low whistle. He wanted this image burned into his brain for the rest of his life. She looked so pretty laid out in front of him, laid out for him. He let his hand trail down her sides and she shivered.

He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his shirt, letting his clothes fall next to her dress. As soon as he was in nothing but his boxers, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers.

Daniel held her tight. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over so that she was sat on him, hips moving on top of his. His eyes were shut as he groaned, his grip tightening. "Fuck," he hissed and she leaned down to kiss him again.

But the kiss didn't last very long. Soon Daniel was kissing down her neck. He didn't leave a hickey, not until he got to her chest. A series of moans left her lips as he kissed her chest, paying attention to what wasn't covered by her bra. "Danny," she moaned as he reached behind and unclasped the bra.

It fell away from her chest and Daniel threw it to the side. Immediately he began sucking a dark mark into the flesh, marking her as his. Her head was thrown back and she couldn't stop her hips from gyrating against him.

But suddenly she pulled away from him. He climbed off of him and Daniel tried to follow, but she pushed him back down, keeping him laying on the bed. She shuffled down to the bed until she was between his legs and pulling at his boxers, freeing his cock.

She wrapped her fingers around his already hard length and pumped. Once, twice, before she wrapped her lips around his tip. "Holy shit," Daniel cried out, accidentally bucking his hips towards her.

He escaped from her mouth but she quickly wrapped her lips around him once again. She ran her tongue along the veiny underside and moved her lips down his shaft. Her cheeks hollowed and she closed her eyes, concentrating all of her efforts into bringing him close to the edge.

Only close. He wasn't going to cum until he'd had his turn with her. But that wasn't her decision. Daniel pulled her off of him and pulled her up. He rolled her over once again, trapping her beneath him. He kissed her, his fingers hooking around the strappy waistband of her panties.

He pulled her panties off and dropped them onto the floor. Daniel pushed his fingers gently through her folds, feeling just how wet she was. He couldn't wait to be inside of her.

And he didn't have to wait. He rolled a condom on, pushed himself inside of her and she let out a gasp, gripping onto his shoulders. "Fuck, Danny," she whispered, throwing her head back. "Holy fucking fuck."

Daniel grunted. Nothing in the world could come close to this feeling. Slowly he began moving, pulling his hips back every so slightly and pushing back in. He kept his pace even, giving her time to adjust to his length.

But Daniel sped up. She moaned and whined, crying out his name beneath him as he fucked her.

She didn't last very long. Maybe it was all of the anticipation, maybe it was the fact that she hadn't been fucked like this since before Milo was born.

Daniel fucked her through her orgasm. "That's it, sweetheart," he grunted, kissing her slowly, tenderly. "So good f'me."

He pace slowed, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he brought himself closer and closer to his orgasm. "Shit," he grunted, his hips stilling against her as he came, spilling into the condom.

"Fuck," she whispered as he pulled out of her.

Daniel got rid of the condom and climbed into the bed beside her. He wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. He kissed her head and pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her. "So, you still happy to be mine?" He asked, unable to keep the smile off of his face.

"Are you kidding me?" She said as she touched his tattoo. It hadn't escaped Daniel just how much she loved his tattoos, loved tracing them. "I don't think happy is the right word. I'd go for something like... really happy."

"Really happy then," Daniel said and kissed her again.

They laid like that for just a few minutes, enjoying each others company. "What do we tell the kids?" She asked as she reached for her phone.

"The truth," Daniel answered as she turned the phone on and checked the time.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath. She jumped out of bed and quickly got herself dressed. "Fuck, I've got to get back to Milo and the sitter."

Daniel did the same. He jumped out of bed and got back into his trousers and shirt. But he left off the tie and didn't button his shirt all of the way. They'd just gotten done boning, but fuck she wanted him again. But there was no time, she needed to get back to Milo.

"Let me come with you," Daniel said, unlocking his phone to call her a cab.

Y/N stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She turned towards Daniel, undeniable smile one of face. "You seriously want to come with me?"

"Of course I do, you're my girlfriend."

Girlfriend. She loved the sound of that.

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