#it's almost 4am I should go to bed...

[cloud-the-forgotten]

*Digging my nails into my legs*

There should be. more timeloops

[justgleekout]

Sunday morning sleeping in <3

[louisaguy]

“Diana, you really are being silly about this,” Ingrid hissed, hurrying to keep up with Diana as she did her best to power walk away from her fellow agent. And preferably out of a window.

“Oh! Well! Shall we have a little laugh, then? Ha-ha-ha!” She pressed on a little faster, a twist of glee shooting up in her when Ingrid gave a fraction of a stumble.

“Diana,” Ingrid whispered again, nearly begging as she tailed the woman she still had the audacity to be calling her friend. “Come on, now, it’s only one assignment--”

Diana stopped suddenly, scoffing to turn around and look Ingrid in the eyes. “Oh, only one assignment!” she snapped sarcastically. “You make it sound so insignificant, Ingrid, that you snaked me out of my rightful place--”

“Oh my--” Ingrid shook her head. “Do you even hear yourself? ‘Your rightful place’, like you’ve been promised the world and more, you are so full of it--”

“--As Partner’s protégé , it should be me working next to him on this assignment, not you! And not only am I being passed over, I have to endure the humiliation of not even knowing the details-- I mean, since when do you have higher clearance than I do!?”

“You’re Partner’s protégé now, are you?” Ingrid crossed her arms. “Tell me, when did he bestow that title on you? Because I was under the impression we were all working our way up the ranks, that any one of us could be in line for First or Second desk--”

Diana barked a laugh. Ingrid frowned.

“...And anyway, Diana, like I said, it’s only one assignment. I’m sure you’ll get the next one.”

“No.” Diana’s jaw locked defiantly. “It’s never just one assignment.”

And perhaps Ingrid was right. Perhaps this assignment would prove insignificant in the grand scheme of things, and Diana was here making a fuss over nothing. But a single assignment, Diana knew well, could make or break a career. And, intentional sabotage or not, it rankled with her that Ingrid-- Cartwright’s favorite, and five years Diana’s junior-- would be chosen to work with Partner, for whom Diana had been the most loyal underling of for years. The closer she got to forty-- and she was quite close now-- the more she worried about the amount of time she had left to climb in her career, and whether each new height she reached would be her peak.

And she wasn’t ready to peak yet in her current position-- reasonably high up in the service, nothing to sniff at, but not the one calling the real shots. She had her sights set on First Desk. And nothing would stop her from reaching it. Not even her so-called “friend” Ingrid, who, unfortunately for them both, also had her sights set on the top.

Diana let the fury and the frustration of the previous two hours, as she pleaded her case to Partner and was swiftly and unmercifully denied, emanate through her as she shook herself out, turning away from Ingrid and continuing down the hall to her office door. Ingrid trailed her again, though less urgently now that they’d had their little row, and was just starting to speak again-- saying God knows what, Diana resolved to tune her out-- when Diana swiped her keycard and opened the door to her office.

…And froze abruptly, causing Ingrid to bump into her from behind.

“Diana, what--”

Then Ingrid saw what Diana was looking at, and she froze, too.

The light was on in Taverner’s office. Not a file out of place. Except…

A child, somewhere between five and ten years old-- Diana was always terrible at guessing children’s ages-- was sitting in the big plush chair at Diana’s desk, sticking his legs out as he spun himself in a quick circle.

When he spotted the two women standing in the doorway, he caught himself against the desk, though still swayed in the seat, dizziness making his body lurch in slow rotations.

“Hi,” he said plainly.

Diana, who was already not having a spectacular day, didn’t bother to contain her frustration. “Why. on Earth,” she asked dangerously, narrowing her eyes at the boy. “Is there a child sitting behind my--”

Ingrid squeezed her forearm, leaning forward to whisper into her ear: “Diana, hush. It’s baby Cartwright.”

And. Well. That changed things, then, didn’t it? She gave the child a once-over again. Young as he was, he seemed well behaved judging by the state of the office, the only thing out of place a pen and a doodle-covered paper sat in front of him. And now that it was pointed out to her, she could spot the resemblance to the Old Bastard in the boy-- his calm stillness that felt almost eerie in a child, his blue eyes wide and seemingly all-knowing. He immediately unnerved her.

She bit out a dazzling grin.

“Well, of course!” The forced cheerfulness in her voice made Diana want to choke on her own tongue. “Hello, young Cartwright.”

“My name’s River.” The boy pulled his sneakered feet up onto Diana’s chair, tucking them underneath him so that he could kneel to peer over the tall desk, and she had to choke back her reprimand-- do you have any idea how much that chair costs?

“Of course,” Diana said again. She already had a tension headache flaring up. “What a… lovely name.”

River made a face. “I don’t like it,” he told her, as if letting her in on a great and serious secret. “Granddad says my mum was in her ‘hippie phase’.”

“...Ah,” Diana said, unsure how else to respond. She had never been the most comfortable around children in general, and this particular one was even more disquieting. Both his mannerisms, uncannily similar to the man behind the curtain of everything going on at the Park, as well as his proximity to power, made Diana want him to leave very quickly.

On the other hand, his proximity to power could certainly be an asset…

“You know,” she said. “I think I’ve got a few candies in my desk drawer, if you’d like them.” In reality they were only breath mints, but she was hoping the child wouldn’t know the difference.

“Yes, please!” River chirped. He rolled himself away from the desk as Diana approached, but didn’t make a move to get up out of her chair. Damned child. “Granddad told me not to touch anything until he came back, so I didn’t snoop.”

Which meant he had definitely snooped. Diana repressed a groan, hoping whatever the little twat reported back to Daddy would make her look good, or at least not bad. At the very least, she assured herself, he wouldn’t be able to call her a slob.

“Here you are.” She deposited a few of the mints into River’s hand, though she’d done a quick count of the number in the tin and concluded that he’d already snacked on more than a few of them. “You know, you do remind me quite a bit of your grandfather.”

The boy beamed, which made him look absolutely nothing like David Cartwright. That man never smiled. Except, rumor had it, when looking after his grandson, whom he adored more than anything else in the world. More than his political power, even.

Yes, Diana was deciding. She had to find a way to please this child. If he left her office tonight upset, or even offended, she may as well kiss First Desk goodbye.

While River was occupied picking through the multicolored mints, Diana glanced up toward the door of her office again-- Ingrid had let it swing shut, but was standing near it with her arms crossed, an odd kind of amused smile on her face.

“What?” Diana whispered, coming back toward her. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing.” Ingrid tilted her head. “I’m just enjoying this.”

“Enjoying what?”

“Watching you suck up to a child.” Ingrid laughed. “I mean, really, Diana, he’s eight. Don’t you find this all a bit embarrassing?”

Diana made a mental note of the number. “Well, you can see yourself out, then.”

“Oh, no, no, no.” Ingrid grinned again. “This is the best thing I’ve seen all week.”

Diana ignored her and turned back to little River. Ingrid could poke fun all she liked. It wasn’t her approval that mattered-- it was Cartwright’s.

“How would you like to play a game?” She asked the boy, scouring her brain for any memories of her schoolyard days.

“Sure!” River agreed easily.

.

When Cartwirght finally came to collect his grandson an hour later, it was to the sound of River laughing. After attempting Diana’s sorry excuse for a game, he had convinced her to try one that he played at school. The boy even managed to rope Ingrid into playing, too, though neither agent could quite figure out the rules from River’s unfocused babbling (Diana suspected the rules may have well been changing based on River’s whims), so he kept beating the two of them over and over. Still, it kept him entertained until David appeared in the doorway of Diana’s office, and River hopped up to run over and happily take his hand.

She had suspected partway through the strange experience that River had been left here, in the office of one of the few high-ranking female agents in the Park, for reasons having to do with little other than her high heels, a suspicion which was confirmed when David said, “Thank you for looking after him, ladies,” in a way that made Diana’s teeth grind together so hard she thought one would crack.

But still. She kept her smile. Kept her composure. Until the OB and his grandgremlin were gone. And, all things considered, she felt she had made a fairly positive impression on the boy-- he waved goodbye to her (her, and not Ingrid), as he and his grandfather left. Hopefully that would earn her a point or two.

So, all in all, despite the horrid mess of a day that had preceded it, Diana felt overall quite satisfied with the evening’s end. At least, until Ingrid coughed next to her.

“Ahem-toady-hm.”

Diana scowled, elbowing her in the ribs.

[sullina]

I am fucking. Obsessed with the idea of 14 year old Luke in America using his skill of talking to animals for his detective work.

But not just for gathering information.

But also like.

Training some animals to help him in an emergency.

I mean the boy is 14 years old. I highly doubt he really has the strength to go against a grown man looking to harm him, not to mention several. His father surely knows this as well. Clark loves his son and will support him in anything he does, but without the Professor to look out for him, he's pretty concerned about his sons safety.

So what I'm imagining is like

Luke, cornered in alley, alone except for the culprits he just apprehended (on his own. Because... reasons)

And he tries to fight back, but he's still just one guy and doesn't have the strength of someone like Inspector Grosky. He lands maybe a few punches, but the others overwhelm him still.

So what is a 14 year old boy to do in this type of situation?

The only thing he can do.

Luke stands up, slowly rising to his feet. He raises an arm and looks the main culprit in the eyes as he shouts: "TEN THOUSAND CROWS BE UPON YE!!!!!!"

For a second nothing happens and the culprits just laugh. "Did you really thing that would work? Let's get him!"

But then, suddenly, a noise so loud it's deafening. It's like a thousand ocean waves all crashing against a cliff at the same time.

The culprits looks up and the sky is black, when just a second ago, the sun was shining over the entire city.

They'll remember this moment. It's the last moment of peace they'll ever know.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"

Birds descend upon them, their beaks like daggers raining from the sky.

The crows won't kill them. Luke has made it clear that that is not acceptable. He has also taught them not to go for the face. He didn't want anyone maimed, after all, no matter how heinous a crime they committed. Fortunately, the crows are smart. That's why Luke picked them for this job, after all.

The culprits are all struggling against the black birds, flailing around uselessy trying to shoo them away, but they've already made the extremely grave error of daring to hurt their friend.

Luke instructs the birds to keep them there to the best of their ability, and if they run, to follow them them closely. In the meantime, he finds the nearest phone box and contacts the police, who, of course, rush to the scene to make sure that he's okay and to catch the culprits. They have no idea what sight awaits them.

When the leading Inspector arrives, he is astounded by what he sees. He questions Luke, how could he apprehend this group of culprits all by himself?

"Is it not clear, Inspector?" Luke chuckles, and instead of a long-winded explanation, decides to simply state the obvious:

[Image ID in alt]

[vibrantstarfire]

sometimes fics are love letters to canon. and sometimes you're writing to congress telling them to get their fucking act in gear.

[somerandomcryptid]

Dreaming of death!Wilbur doodles because I can

Fuck I made Dream too short. Just imagine Wilbur is wearing three inch combat boots.

Dream and Wilbur certainly have a... something in Dreaming of death. And that something definitely isn't allies.

Also yeah, Wilbur is both just a lil guy and an absolute bastard in Dreaming of death.

Revivebur is more influenced by ghostbur because they interacted more and also he was stuck in solitary confinement for 2 months he's just a happy little guy about finally being free.

Anyway I love both moods of his.

(Dreaming of death is of course an au of the fic penpal by @calamari-minecraft-corner)

[cybernightart]

Random thought/head canon

The reason "Tav" is so special (excluding the origin runs) is because they basically have the ability to rewind time, and do things over and over and over again.

That or "Tav" is an ever changing being stuck in a time loop where they go on pretty much the same quest every time, but every time ends up a little different!

That's my personal belief anyways

[verraising]

did an hour of chaotic raid followed by like three hours of blind ex3 prog with friends today and BOY did we die a lot but also BOY was it fun!!! we got all the way to coronation before we started getting tired and loopy but we're planning on picking it up again sometime next week and i'm excited \o/ 💖

[parasite-core]

I’m curious, since it’s a podcast and not everyone watches the YouTube w/art (me, it’s me who does that), how do you picture each character?

Phineas looks kind of like Laios from Delicious in Dungeon, except lankier.

Weepe, despite my best efforts to imagine anything else, looks like Igor from the Persona series but opalescent.

Lark looks like a strong tall butch obvs. I can’t help but imagine her with short red hair even though she’s described as having dark hair.

Imelda looks like Umbridge from the movies

Saskia looks like Mitzi May from Lackadaisy (including being a cat, I simply cannot make my brain imagine anything else)

Sherman looks like an in shape middle aged guy with short blonde hair and stubble, who has an air about him that people can confide in him.

Jonas Spar switches between two looks. The first is basically Metro Man from Megamind but blonde. The other is his actual appearance from official art because I actually have seen art of him and like his design.

[clingyduofan]

agghhhhh I need to keep watching subz's vods x_x

[cloud-the-forgotten]

Art is hard :(

[moon-fics]

Some Nights

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Reader

Summary: During the day, the tower is filled with laughter and banter. It's a warm feeling. Until night comes and the silence is too much.

Warnings: none

A/N: This came to me during a class lecture. I physically cannot make myself write angst for him. I've tried and I just can't.

There's never a quiet moment during the day. Everyone has gotten close enough to talk regularly. There are conversations started on complete nonsense, and then there are ones about past traumas. Over time, it became natural to hear laughter or yelling every once in a while.

There'd be banging of pots and pans while Walker tried cooking. Alexei would be trying to start a dance party while everyone rolled their eyes. There were too many examples, and yet you treasured them all. It was a family you never thought you could have.

It's almost perfect. Until the night comes crawling, and suddenly the tower is dead silent. Everyone is asleep way before you. It's impossible to sleep when you're now being watched by media outlets and citizens. It's nerve-wracking to not know whether they'll accept you as Earth's heroes.

Sometimes it's unbearable to be left alone with your thoughts. However, you eventually find a solution.

-

One night, you're sneaking out of your room for some food. It's nearly 4am, and you know you should be sleeping. You convince yourself that one snack will be enough and then you can go back to bed.

You slowly open your door, and you almost expect a comically loud creak. Instead, you're met with Bob standing outside the door. His hands are playing with the hem of his shirt, and he looks like he's about to say something.

"I wasn't trying to be weird. I just saw the light under your door," He says while nodding. He has that goofy, closed smile on his lips as if that explains everything. The way your heart skips a beat is almost enough of an answer. "I was trying to gather the courage to knock."

"So, you just stood outside my door in hopes I wouldn't open it?" You ask. You raise an eyebrow at him and wonder how long he's been standing here. You didn't even hear him approach your door.

"Well, no," He starts, but cuts himself off. "Yeah. Yeah, I was just standing here." He admits with a nervous chuckle.

"Do you need something, or were you just paying a late-night visit?" You ask in hopes he'll give a better explanation. Bob isn't the best at giving details or talking about how he's feeling. It's why you often have to ask multiple questions to form a full story.

"Oh, right! I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out!" He perks up.

"It's like 4 in the morning, Bob." You say with confusion. Why was he asking to hang out this late? There's nothing they could do besides sit in her room. "You should be in bed."

You don't mean to sound harsh. You'd honestly love to spend time with him, but it's at an ungodly hour. You aren't sure if pulling an all-nighter is smart. However, you see the way his eyes soften and the corner of his lips dip down for just a second. Your snack will have to wait because he's in no state to be alone.

"Get in here," You sigh. You grab his arm and practically drag him into your room. There's not much to look at, but he still examines it as if there is. "I found an old projector that we can watch a movie on."

You were planning on watching romcoms on it, but maybe it'll have a better use with him. You carefully aim the lens at your ceiling in the center of your bed. It gives a large projection of whatever it's hooked up to. Luckily for you, you know how to get free movies and shows on your laptop.

That's how you two spend the night. Watching movies that he's never seen or comfort movies you enjoy. It becomes a regular thing, and after a few nights, you two end up falling asleep tangled in each other. It was an accident at first. You woke up with his arms around you and didn't have the heart or willpower to pull away. Eventually, you two just accepted that it was inevitable.

You have to admit, you enjoyed feeling his breathing and hearing his body. His skin was soft and lacked the scars most of the others had. It was refreshing to hold someone and understand them completely.

-

It's the second time you've chosen to watch your favorite movie. It brings a deep comfort inside you that you cannot explain. Watching it next to Bob is even better.

You're both lying on your backs while staring at the projected movie on the ceiling. There's a calm silence between you two that creates a tension that you cannot deny. Every once in a while, you'll glance over at him. His eyes are lit up by the movie, and it makes your heart swell.

At some point, he catches you staring and immediately assumes something is on his face. After clarifying that there isn't he asks why you're staring.

"I don't know. You just look happy," You explain. It's the truth, he's been looking happier. Ever since you've invited him to stay the night and relax with you, he's been brighter. The nights are no longer as hard. "I like seeing you like that."

"You make me happy." He blurts out. It's sudden, and his eyes widen. He sits up and turns from you as if he's just spilled a dirty secret. You're frozen in place, wondering what that truly meant.

"Hey, don't shy away from me." You sit up and turn to him. You can't help but let out a laugh at how he's practically shunned himself. You place your hand on his shoulder and pull him towards you. "Come on." You coo.

When he finally faces you, he's beet red. You have another round of laughter before composing yourself. Your eyes land on him, and he's frowning. He looks humiliated, and it crushes you.

"You don't need to laugh. It was stupid of me to say," He mumbles while unable to hold eye contact. His words make your skin crawl at the idea of hurting him. He thinks you're rejecting him or mocking him at least.

"No, no, I'm glad you said it." You grab his chin to force him to look at you. "You make me happy, too." You keep your voice down. It feels more intimate to say in softly than to rush it out.

His eyes brighten once again. There's uncertainty within him because for all he knows, this could mean two different things.

"Yeah, but, uhm, I feel a 'I want to kiss you' happy," He stumbles over his words while trying to explain himself. "N-not like a 'I enjoy your friendship' happy." He speaks quickly as if he's running out of time. Your hand moves from his chin to cup his cheek.

"So, kiss me," You suggest. You try to play it cool, but deep down your heart is pounding. You want more than anything for him to actually kiss you, but when he pulls away an inch, that hope flies away. "Or not. I mean, it's whatever you're comfortable with-"

You're cut off by the harsh crash of his lips against yours. It's sloppy at first, and it feels like kissing for the first time. After a few seconds, it slows down and softens. It becomes natural, and you don't want to pull away. His hands wrap around the top of your neck and reach your jaw. His fingers curl around the base of your hair as he pulls you in closer.

His lips are chapped, but they aren't rough. You can sense his need to be closer, and it's intoxicating.

He's the first to end the kiss to get air. His hands never leave their place.

"Like that?" He asks nervously. His puppy eyes are too much to bear. He's so anxious about doing it right that it only makes the moment more special.

"That was perfect." You assure him. Right after you pull him back into another kiss.

[bobasbn]

a flame that ignited fire (2)

1.6k words again | Sylus achieved his goal and is finally having a daughter but now he must deal with his wife's pregnancy cravings. Read part one <- here

-

“Are you alright, my love? Is the pillow fluffed up to your liking? Should I get you some snacks? Do you want anything else?” Sylus asks you profusely. He’s been nothing but attentive and worrisome ever since you were confirmed to actually be pregnant. 

Sylus was driven to tears when you showed him a positive pregnancy test after all his effort to convince you that a baby is just what you two need. It’s been six months since then, you haven’t gotten the chance to even feel any discomfort without Sylus swooping in and pampering you with every available resource he has. 

“Everything’s fine, thank you,” you say with a smile. You hold onto Sylus’s hand, your thumb gently turning the wedding band on his finger. All you wanted to do was lounge on the couch and watch a movie but your husband refused to let you move without him preparing the couch for your maximum comfort. 

Sylus lowers himself to his knees in front of the couch, resting his elbows up right beside you. His eyes have been carrying a certain sparkle to them lately, an undeniable softness has been gracing his features, reminiscent of the way he looked at Riley when he realised that the baby wasn’t afraid of him. 

“I’ve been having the tendency to be… overbearing,” Sylus admits sheepishly. His hand raises to smooth your hair back in a soothing manner. “Just tell me if you need me to just shut up and leave you alone.” He reminds you. He’s more than aware of his new habit of pampering you to an almost overwhelming degree sometimes. It’s endearing for the most part except for the select few times where your mood was naturally sour due to the pregnancy and you had chided Sylus for not giving you space. 

“You know I will,” you joke, admiring the way Sylus has been stealing your pregnancy glow. You definitely envy it, the way his skin has been glowing and eyes glistening. You always thought it was the pregnant lady who was supposed to have that shine laid upon her skin, not her husband who is far too elated to be a father. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. He never fails to remind you of that either. “My precious girls.” Sylus gently rubs his hand over your pregnancy bump. Along with being driven to tears once he found out you were pregnant, his waterworks started up again when you found out you were going to have a daughter. You swear he’s been bearing the larger half of the emotional instability and moodiness between you two. 

A girl is exactly what you were wishing for. The idea of giving Sylus a daughter that will melt down his tough exterior and bring out this vulnerable side like this is heartwarming. 

Sylus stayed home because he was feeling worried after you had expressed your discomfort in your lower back. He prepared hot water bottles, fluffed up all your pillows and catered to your every request. 

“Aren’t you tired? You’ve been awake all day,” you ask Sylus as you climb back into bed. After an adventurous day of laying on the couch on this bright weekend, you’re back in bed. 

“Truthfully, I’m a little fatigued. But it’s nothing that I can’t handle,” Sylus says, but he’s already sitting up in bed with his hands folded in his lap. His eyes look like they’ll fall shut at any moment now. 

You fix the blanket over your body. You’re just about to say something back to Sylus but when you look back at him, he’s already snoozing away. You can’t help but chuckle. Of course he pretended as if staying up all day didn’t bother him at all. 

You relish in the moment of silence that lulls you to sleep in the peaceful atmosphere of the room. 

In the early hours of the morning, about 4am, you’re jolted awake by your own senses. 

You were feeling warmer even though the temperature of the room hasn’t changed. A sudden itch prickles around your abdomen and you feel some discomfort from the position you ended up in while sleeping. You lean over to turn the lamp on your bedside table on, feeling yourself involuntarily becoming more awake. To top it all off, you have a hunger for something cold. Cold, sweet and fruity, slightly floral. You smack your lips, noticing that your husband isn’t up and around like he usually would be at this time. 

Despite not abiding by his usual sleep schedule, he’s still an incredibly light sleeper and his scarlet eyes are soon open and adjusting to the dim lighting. 

“Sweetheart? Are you alright?” He husks, his deep voice almost inaudible from just waking up. He stretches his arms out, his muscles flexing as he props himself up. 

“I’m not feeling good,” you admit. Sylus immediately becomes alert. 

“What’s the matter?” 

“I’m hot, I’m itchy, uncomfortable and I want blueberry lavender ice cream,” you list out your issues. Your husband’s fingers touch your cheeks, noting the slight warmth to them. 

“Blueberry lavender ice cream? Where would I find that at… 4 in the morning?” He inquires out loud, already planning on how he’ll fulfill your craving at this ungodly hour. 

You shrug your shoulders, your mind running a bit too rampant about all the negative things you’re experiencing and not caring at all for the new quandary you’ve imposed on your husband. He gently rubs your back as you stiffly sit up, your joints feeling as if there’s something jammed between the sockets. 

“I’ll be right back,” Sylus assures. His tiredness from just a moment ago disappears in a blink as he walks out of the room. Soon enough he comes back and props a hot water bottle behind your back and adjusts your pillow to make you more comfortable. 

“Ice cream…” You mutter, clutching to the fabric of his shirt. The more you were awake, the more you craved the cold, sugary treat. You felt as if you would die without the ice cream you desire, like your stomach will simply twist up and kill you. 

“Of course,” he responds and immediately nods his head. He presses a chaste kiss to your temple before heading out on his exploration for ice cream, specifically blueberry lavender ice cream which isn’t just found anywhere. Sylus has never run so fast in his life for something so trivial as ice cream. He knows he’s on limited time but the task isn’t an easy one, and every convenience store he stops by doesn’t have this specific flavour. 

You rest your head against the pillow supporting your neck, shifting a bit as you absentmindedly rub your hand over your pregnancy bump. This daughter of yours is already giving you such a hard time before she’s even been born. She already has her father running mindlessly through the streets to fulfill her every whim. 

Half an hour goes by and your cravings do not settle at all. If anything, they’re growing stronger. You try to distract yourself with your phone but everything is swirling into blue and purples hues, breaking into mosaics and forming the image of blueberry and lavender in your mind. It’s driving you insane. 

The door almost breaks down when Sylus makes his return and he immediately starts making a big clatter downstairs which catches your attention. You tried to ignore it for the first few minutes but your curiosity grew to know if he ended up getting the ice cream or not. You muster up all the strength you can to push yourself off the bed and you pad downstairs curiously to see what your husband is up to. 

To your surprise, when you enter the kitchen you’re met with the sight of Sylus handling an ice cream machine. A violet mixture churns in the machine, looking like the product of all your wishes right now. 

“You’re making ice cream?” You lean your head against his arm, earning a kiss on the head from him. 

“I couldn’t find it anywhere. But, fresh ingredients will taste much better,” Sylus says calmly. He had gone ahead and bought the raw ingredients just to make the ice cream you want at home. Despite being married to him for a significant amount of time, he still finds ways to make your heart melt. 

You watch the ice cream being mixed for a few more minutes before he opens the lid to get a peek of the creation inside. You couldn’t resist swiping a finger through the smooth cream, taking a taste and your body instantly rests as you do. All the senses in your mind that were screaming for blueberry lavender ice cream were silenced the moment you finally got access to the fruitful, floral treat. 

“Yes, this is it,” you nod. Even though the ice cream wasn’t set, it was calling your name. You served yourself a large bowl with every drop of the ice cream that Sylus made for you. You brought the bowl back to bed with you, your husband following behind closely like a puppy making sure that this was enough to satiate your craving. 

“Is it good, sweetheart?” He asks. You hold up a spoonful of the ice cream to his mouth, it’s more cream than ice. He takes a bite, eyebrows raising with delight. 

“I’ve been waiting my entire life for this,” you murmur. You hog the rest of the bowl, shoveling spoonful after spoonful into your mouth as your husband watches with a sense of admiration for you. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, a small smile on his face.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” he gently taps his finger against your nose. His eyes flit down to your belly. 

“I can’t wait to meet her,” he whispers, his eyes full of wonder. He wouldn’t get annoyed even if he had to fly to the ends of the Earth to satisfy your cravings. It all didn’t matter as long as he was helping you feel better, and that he was getting closer everyday to meeting his daughter. 

He was already ready to give up everything to take care of you two, his girls, his entire world. You two were definitely going to be spoiled rotten by Sylus. 

-

[schnuls42]

It's almost 4am, and I probably should go to bed, but look how snuggled up to my leg she is, and I don't havevto ger up tomorow anyways bc it's Sunday, so I guess my fate has been sealed ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[chuulyssa]

drunk and driven. (light yagami)

↷ A/N ─ happy belated birthday to light and me !! i hope you enjoy this :) again, this is NOT rape/non-con. the reader is as sober as light here. written by a zombie-me at 4am. also im sorry if the camera topic is overused, i just couldnt help myself fantasizing about this

★ COUNT ─ 2.5k

!! TAGS ─ f!reader, dom!light, drinking, smut, fingering, spanking, unprotected sex, p in v, nicknames (good girl, pretty girl, etc.), edging, begging kink, voyeurism

★ PROLOGUE ─ your boyfriend punishes you for almost letting slip his real identity

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

The dim glow of the television cast shadows around the room. You had been at your high school's farewell party, and had too many drinks there to stumble back home in one piece. It was almost midnight, so there was also no way your boyfriend, Light Yagami, would have let you out of his sight, especially with how tipsy you were. He was quite protective of you, but he was right. You let out a drunk sigh and looked away, silently accepting the fact that you'd have to meet his parents in the morning and share a few awkward exchanges.

Light had had more drinks than you at the party, but he looked far from as drunk as you currently were. He was quietly watching a movie on the TV, stroking your hair lightly. Your gaze went up from Light to the flickering screen. A sudden surge of courage rushed through you.

"Light," you whispered, breaking the silence with your hoarse voice.

"No, you're not going home tonight," Light replied without looking at you.

"No, it's not that," you said frustratedly.

Light raised his eyebrows, hearing you slur your words due to the effects of the alcohol. Still, he did not look at you.

"How much did you drink?"

"Less than what you drank," your throat burned, your eyes drooping slightly.

He ignored you, seemingly engrossed in the movie, but you knew it was all just an act for the cameras L had set up.

You continued, "And it doesn't matter how much I drank, because either way, you refuse to give me attention."

Ryuk snickered in the corner.

Light frowned, finally turning his attention towards you as his eyes trailed down your body. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the redness of your cheeks, and the slight swaying of your body.

He looked at you for a few more seconds with a calculating look before sighing and setting the remote on his table. He stood up, "You should really get some sleep."

"No," you repeated.

"I-" Light was starting to get annoyed. "Are you crazy? Don't you want to go home tomorrow?"

"I just- I-" You sighed again, leaning back against your chair and almost falling off.

"Idiot," Light muttered, catching you before you fell. He carried you to his bed and lay you down gently before covering you with his blanket. "Are you comfortable? Do you want me to sleep on the floor?"

"No, no, I need cuddles," you smiled drunkenly, completely forgetting what you were going to say back when you had gotten some "courage".

"Of course, you do," Light said proudly. "You need my cuddles to sleep."

You hummed in response. As he snottily took his shirt off before lying down next to you, you closed your eyes slightly. They were burning, as if trying to stop you from both closing them and keeping them open.

His hands made their way to your back, gently pushing your neck to his bare chest. You finally shut your heavy eyelids and snuggled closer to him. This was what you always wanted. Just you and Light. Alone.

You furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes still tightly shut, your face pressed against him. Alone? It was laughable that you thought even for a moment that you two were alone right now. Well, for one, there was a God of Death in the same room as you, trying not to pass out from the lack of apples in his digestive system. Second, a great detective was watching the two of you, possibly along with your boyfriend's own father.

Light pulled you even closer to him, inhaling your scent deeply. Soon, the two of you drifted off to dreamland, and L was left questioning whether the seventeen-year-old star student really was a murderer.

You woke up, limbs tangled with Light's. You checked your wristwatch. About four hours had passed, and as you tried to sit up, your head felt heavy from an early hangover. Light's eyes jerked open. He had always been a light sleeper.

"Hm?" he mumbled in his sleep, no longer feeling the presence of your head in the crook of his neck. "What's the matter, honey?"

"I... had a dream," you said slowly.

"Nightmare?"

"Kinda."

Light sat up slowly and reached out for a glass of water to hand to you.

You peeked into the glass, rubbing your left eye until you saw stars.

"Vodka?" you said hopefully.

"Water," he replied calmly.

You pouted pleadingly; more alcohol was what you needed right now, but you eventually had to resign to your boyfriend. You drank the water, and instantly felt much more sober than you were before. Your sleepy eyes fell on Ryuk, his legs and hands in a rather uncomfortable position, perhaps due to not having apples for such a long time.

For a moment, you, for the second time that night, completely forgot about the existence of the cameras.

You turned to Light. "How long is he going to go without apples?"

"Who, honey?" Light's eyes flashed warningly, but you were far too sleepy to notice.

"Ryuk, your Shini-"

Your words were cut off by a sharp kiss. Light had completely thrown himself at you, and you fell back down on the bed due to the sheer force of his abrupt kiss. The empty glass landed on the floor with a loud clink, but he ignored it. His hands reached under your shirt, his nails digging into the skin of your hips as if daring you to talk further.

You attempted to prop yourself up on your elbows, to gain some kind of control over what was happening. But Light pushed you back down, pulling you by your hips and roughly throwing your head down on the pillow.

He pulled away eventually, the pupils of his eyes completely red, and you cursed yourself mentally. This was not your Light. This was Kira.

He leaned away from you, got up to pick up the thrown glass and filled it with water again, but as he offered it to you, you rejected it. "I'm sober enough for this, Light."

"Very well then," Light whispered and leaned in closer to your ear. "I hope you remember you're being watched. Make sure you put on a show."

You nodded slowly, letting his hands roam around and make their way to the hem of your skirt, twirling the fabric around his fingers. He brought another hand to your top and slid it under the cloth, feeling the material of your satin bra.

"The one I gifted to you?" he raised his eyebrows, a little smirk on his face.

"Yes," you whispered, pulling his bare chest against your clothed one. "Strip me, Light."

"What's the magic word?" he teased, hand slipping under your bra and cupping your breast.

"Please," you whimpered when he pinched your nipple.

Ryuk snapped his eyes open and tumbled out of the room clumsily, perhaps to give you some privacy.

"Good girl," he didn't hide his smirk this time as he pulled your top off completely, throwing it to the side where it landed on his chair next to his own shirt. He ran his hands down your back, grabbing the zipper of your skirt and slowly pulling it down. Light slid the skirt down your legs, leaving you in a matching set of satin underwear and bra.

"Pretty," he murmured, his hand grasping his growing bulge tightly.

"Let me help you with that," you sat up on all fours and leaned in closer, a hand stretched out to touch his crotch.

You rubbed him lightly, slowly increasing your pace before unbuckling his belt and slipping your hand under his boxers. Your constant touching of his tip made him groan, hand reaching out to yank you by your hair and push you back down to the bed. You grabbed his hands and brought them to your breasts, pressing them against your chest.

"Take my bra off."

"I'm not a man to be told what to do," he said, bringing his lips down to your neck. "But I will allow it this time."

Light freed his hands from your grip and brought them to your back, unclasping the hook of your bra and letting it fall to the floor. He cupped your breasts in his hands, lowering himself so that his mouth sucked on one nipple while his hand squeezed the other.

"Fuck," you moaned, pushing his head against your chest.

He grabbed your hand and brought it once more to his crotch, letting you feel the bulge in his pants again.

"You're not the only one who's needy right now."

"You're so- god, I can't wait to feel you inside me," you said, rubbing his dick through the fabric.

"Patient girls are rewarded," he said, dragging his lips from your neck to your collarbone, his free hand ripping your panties off.

"Hey!" you whisper-screamed.

"I'll buy you another set," he said calmly, sliding two fingers inside you, curling them up and hitting your g-spot.

"Yes," you moaned, pushing his hand against your pussy. "Faster."

He brought his other hand from your nipple to your clit and started rubbing it in circles, simultaneously fucking you with his fingers.

"Fuck, I'm going to come," you whimpered after a few minutes, feeling your orgasm build.

"Mhm, do it, what a good girl," he said, rubbing your clit faster, aiding your release. You came hard on his fingers, arching your back, bucking against his hand and moaning loudly. Your legs shook, while he pulled his fingers out of your pussy and brought them to your mouth. "Clean them."

You nodded, sucking on his fingers, your teeth digging into his skin. Light smirked.

"Don't you think you should be punished?"

"Huh-? For what, Li-?"

Your words were cut off once again when he pulled you onto his lap so that your ass faced him and you lay on your stomach, pussy pressed against his crotch.

_ _ _ _

"L, I don't think we should be watching this," Soichiro Yagami kept his eyes away from the screen, where his son, his perfect little son, was busy fingering his girlfriend. He hadn't even known he had a girlfriend, let alone the fact that they were so... intimate with each other.

"There has to be some meaning in what the girl said," L racked his brains, eyes scanning the scene, now showing you in Light's lap and his hand rubbing your ass. "Apples?"

"For god's sake, it may be some sort of safeword for when they- for when they do- this," Soichiro yelled, his eyes on the floor.

"It's not a mere coincidence, Mr Yagami," L said thoughtfully. "Apples? Kira told me 'Shinigamis' loved apples earlier. This is not a coincidence, Mr Yagami."

_ _ _ _

"You're going to be punished for fucking everything up," he whispered in your ear before smacking your ass hard. "Count."

"One!" you yelped, feeling the sting of his hand on your ass. "Two!" "Three!" "Four!" "Five!"

He kept spanking you, alternating between your ass cheeks. You could feel his dick hard against your stomach, and ignoring the pain in your ass, you started to grind against it.

"Six!" "Seven!" "Eight!"

He spanked you harder, and you could feel your ass getting red. You were breathing heavily, and your pussy was so wet that it was dripping onto his lap.

"Nine! Ten!"

_ _ _ _

"Can we stop watching this now?" Soichiro groaned.

"There has to be some hint," L traced the screen with his fingers which showed you getting spanked hard by Light now.

Soichiro let out an uncomfortable sigh.

"Mr Yagami, you can close your ears and eyes," L said without looking away from the screen.

_ _ _ _

"Good girl," Light said, rubbing your ass. "Now, a reward."

He slid his pants and boxers down to his legs and wiggled out of them. He brought his dick to your pussy, rubbing its head against your clit and earning a moan from your pursed lips. He flipped you over, pinning you under him on the bed again as he continued to tease you.

"Please, Light," you begged, trying to reach out for his dick so you could push it in.

"Please what?" he said sweetly and you groaned in annoyance.

"Please fuck me."

He smiled and pushed his dick inside you slowly, savouring every inch of your tight pussy.

"Oh!" you wailed, feeling his cock stretch your pussy.

He started bucking his hips in and out, fucking you harder as his balls slapped against your clit, doubling the pleasure. He was careful not to make a sound, but he didn't stop you from letting your strangled moans out. This would be your punishment, facing his mother in the morning after getting fucked so hard by him at night.

You tried very hard to suppress your lustful sounds, eyes welling up at the thought of facing his family in a few hours, but you couldn't. He was too good. He knew just how to get under your skin. Slowly, you felt your second orgasm approaching.

"Ah, ah! I want to come," you clasped your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. He was going so hard on you, of course, his mother and his sister would wake up if he continued.

"No, you're not. Hold it in," Light commanded. "You're going to come when I say so."

He kept fucking you harder, and you could feel your orgasm building. This was torture. There was no way you could hold yourself in when he was going so hard on you.

"Please, Light," you begged, feeling your pussy clench around his dick. "I can't hold it in anymore."

"Hold it in, I said," he said, flipping you over again and spanking your ass hard. He increased his speed, and you buried your head in a pillow to muffle your screams. "I'm going to come inside you now. Understood?"

You could feel his cock twitching inside you, and you knew he wasn't lying about his orgasm. You nodded slowly, voice still distant because of the pillow.

He let out a long, satisfied groan as he released his juices inside you, pushing his dick deep inside you. You could feel his cum filling your pussy, and it sent you over the edge.

"Now, come for me, pretty girl," Light said in a hoarse voice.

"Yes!" you screamed, feeling your orgasm wash over you. His cum was dripping out of your pussy, and you could feel his cock softening inside you.

"Good," he said, pulling his cock out of you. It was scary how calm and composed he was when a minute ago, he had spanked you so hard. He grabbed a towel and wiped your pussy clean.

_ _ _ _

Soichiro blinked at the abrupt ending of the sounds. Still refusing to look up at the screen, he asked, "Is it over now?"

"They're both still naked," L said, analyzing the place, feeling his own dick harden at your bare figure, panting and sweating as Light got off you and laid next to you, throwing the towel somewhere insignificant.

"Well then?" Soichiro said.

"Well what?"

"You made me watch my son... doing- doing stuff with his girlfriend," Soichiro said in a shaky voice, his hands behind his back to avoid pulling his hair out in frustration. "What have you understood from this?"

"What I've understood?" L said thoughtfully, his gaze unconsciously reaching his growing bulge. "Your son is quite romantic, I suppose."

© chuulyssa, 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[lvrxly]

ִ ࣪𖤐- An Odd Feeling

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

summary: your neighbor, Simon, is a single dad. and you frequently babysit his son, Oliver. You've grown to love Oliver, buying toys for him, planning play dates, and even offering to babysit him while his dad goes on a date..wait what? You really thought after all of this Simon would choose you, but maybe he will..?

cw: simon is somewhat oblivious at the beginning >:((, mdni - smut, slight age difference (Simon is in his mid-30s while the reader is in her mid-20s), unprotected sex, breeding kink on Simon's part, oral sex (f receiving), Simon can't help but want another kid after seeing how you treat his :((

a/n: sorry this took so long to get posted! and i apologize for any grammar mistakes, i don't have the energy to edit this right now ;( (it's almost 4am).

hope you enjoy lovies ;)

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"Thanks again for this love, I should be back around 9pm, please try and get him to bed before then," Ghost says frantically as he passes his son over to you along with his diaper bag and favorite blanket.

There was that damned nickname again. 'Love'. Simon always seemed to call you love, it was almost infuriating how that little pet name could make your heart race and your cheeks heat.

Simon had a date with someone a friend of his set up for him, Soap, you think was the guys name. From a photo Simon showed you, she was pretty, gorgeous even. Slim and tall, long blonde hair, and seemingly put together.

"Yeah no problem. Have fun, try and get laid. You definitely need it," You say with a dry laugh, bouncing his son, Oliver, over to your other hip. Why the fuck would you say that? 'Get laid?' Why would you even suggest such a fucking thing knowing you can barely stomach watching him go out on this date in the first place.

He cleans up nice, a fitted pair of dark grey khaki pants with a white button up shirt, the sleeves rolled, revealing his tattooed forearms, and his sandy blonde hair slicked back out of his face, making him less shaggy looking than you were used to.

Simon laughs and waves goodbye as he turns on the heels of his dress shoes and hops down the steps of your front porch. You wave at his back, shutting the door with a heavy sigh. You turn around and set Oliver down, watching as he bolts toward the little corner of your living room which you had designated as his play area for when he comes over.

Your heart feels heavy as you walk over towards your couch, tossing Oliver's diaper bag and blanket onto one of the cushions. You flop down onto the other cushion, kicking your feet up on the coffee table that is placed in front of your couch.

Oliver looks just like his father, from what you could see anyways. Dirty blonde hair, gunmetal blue eyes, and a small dimple on his left cheek. He was an adorable kid, an easy one to babysit too.

Oliver runs up to you, a toy tractor in his hand as he holds it up to you, his other hand rested on your knee as if to help him balance better. "Tac-tar!" He exclaims.

You smile at him, taking the toy he was offering you, and touching your fingertip on his nose, causing the little boy to giggle. Enough about Simon. Oliver was your date tonight. Your own play date buddy.

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It was a little after 9pm, maybe just about 9:47, when Simon got back. He had knocked on your door for a good 5 minutes before he gave up and decided to let himself in.

He used the key that you would poorly hide under your doormat. The two of you would get into arguments about the placement of the key.

"It's the most obvious spot, love, you're gonna end up getting robbed on of these days." Simon had said the day you told him where it was, he was always worrying about your safety. You knew he was an ex-military Lieutenant, but then again that might just be the dad in him talking.

After unlocking your front door and pushing it open he begins to speak, "Sorry I was a little later than I thou-" But he cuts himself off after his eyes land on your couch.

There you laid on your back, an arm falling off the couch and a leg propped up on the back cushion, snoring lightly. That position couldn't have been that comfortable. But that's not what made him freeze. It was how his son was laying on your chest, fast asleep with his favorite blanket draped over his back. You looked as if his son was your own.

His breathe is caught in his throat as he stares at the two of you, slowly shutting the door behind him as he makes his way over to the couch.

A small smile paints his face as he stands behind the small and slightly sad turquoise couch, bending down so his forearms rested in the back cushion. He watches you sleep, his eyes dragging up and down your frame. After a moment he uses a single finger to brush a stray piece of hair off of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

His smile never falters as he pets the back of his sons head, his long blonde hair slightly sweaty from how hot it probably was being all nuzzled up to you.

You stir in your sleep, your eyes fluttering, only for them to end up shooting wide open in shock. You gasp and clutch the back of Oliver, sighing after realizing who was really watching you sleep.

You sit up, cradling Oliver in your arms, careful not to wake him. "Do you normally watch people sleep?" You say with an annoyed look on your face as you rub your eyes, sleep still attempting to pull you back in.

After regaining most of your consciousness, you stand from the couch, your clothes wrinkled and Oliver's little head on your shoulder as you hold him in your arms.

"Eh, define normally," Simon says, a joking tone noticeable in his voice. Was he trying to make a joke? Since when did Simon Riley ever makes jokes? What the hell happened at the date?

"Your in a good mood. You didn't really end up getting laid right? You know what..? I don't think I wanna know." Your words are frantic and slightly irritated. Why did you feel so...odd right now? Simon is a single man. He has the right to go on dates with beautiful women. Unfortunately.

You bounce around your kitchen, rocking your hips side to side to keep Oliver asleep for as long as possible. You can't help but notice how Simons eyes follow your hips as they move. And..what was that? Did he just groan? No no, that would be crazy.

"No I didn't get laid," He finally replies. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. Almost like a breath of relief.

"If I was getting laid I would have gotten back a lot later..It takes more than 30 minutes with me, love.." Simon was suddenly behind you, his breath hot on your neck as his hands hover above your hips, heat radiating off of his tatted skin, almost scorching the flesh of your thighs through your pants.

You stop bouncing his son, glancing over your shoulder at Simon and..holy shit he was close, almost too close. Those damned eyes were pulling you under and you didn't know if you wanted to be saved.

Oliver shifts in your arms, waking up slowly. His tiny hands rub his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. Once he's awake and spots his dad he immediately makes grabby hands towards him.

You gladly hand him over to Simon, anything to get away from the man that was way way wayyyy to close for comfort. You give Oliver to his father and take a large step away from Simon. You see his smile falter but he quickly regains his composure when his son calls his name, his tiny hands on Simons cheeks.

"You have fun while I was away buddy?" He asks his son, to which Oliver responds with a vigorous nod. He then begins to blabble on about his trucks and snacks he ate, but you space out, your eyes still locked on the two of them.

Simon looked so good with a kid, he was a good dad. You can't help but imagine how good he must have been to his wife while she was pregnant. Her lose for leaving him. He's a great guy. Unfortunately, that means women probably throw themselves at him. Hot, ex-military, AND good with kids??? Yeah, they definitely do. And you would to, if you were so full of self doubt.

"Love?" You hear Simon say, his eyes now focused on you as Oliver was seemingly put down to go play for a little longer.

"I asked if you're free this weekend? Oliver is going over to his grandparents for a few days and I was wondering if you'd like to do something?" His voice was shy...that was weird. It's almost like-

"Are you asking me on a date?" You say, a teasing smirk playing across your lips.

"No no, well- no it's not like that. Just as friends, you know- without the ruckus of that one running around." When he says "that one" he points towards Oliver, who was currently crashing two tractors together and making a crash sound with his mouth.

"You know what? Sure Simon. I'll see you then."

He smiles, nodding softly as he runs his hands through his hair, the gelled effect must have worn off because it was back to its shaggy state, almost getting to the point it reached his eyes. He needed a haircut, but it's not like you didn't like the shaggy look. It was unexpectedly sexy.

Maybe it was just your hormones talking but everything about this man was unexpectedly sexy. His tired eyes from sleepless nights and early mornings, his tatted arms, a few of the tattoos colored in with what seemed like marker from Oliver, and his tall frame, almost towering over you to the point you had to look up to see his face.

You did suggest that he should get laid, but maybe you're the one who really needed the action. It's been who knows how long, and your getting so desperate that you literally can't look at him without butterflies fluttering in your stomach as well as..further south.

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After sending Simon and his son home, you immediately ran to your bedroom, quickly stripping out of your clothes and hopping into the warm water of your shower. With your back to the water and your hands in your hair, you can't help but let your mind wander back to your neighbor.

What was he doing right now? Was he helping Oliver brush his teeth? Was he just getting into the shower too? Was his shower water warm or cool? Did he have tattoos elsewhere? What did the soap look like running down his chest and down his legs..?

Okay, you need to go to bed. Sleep would do the trick. Right?

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Wrong. Sleep 100% didn't do the trick. Two full days of almost nothing but sleep and this man has been filling your head with thought of him, some more naughty than other. He had crawled into your dreams, your thoughts, and your daily life in general. You cant even pour creamer into your coffee without seeing his smug ass face in your mug.

It was now the weekend, around 7pm on a Saturday. The sun had already gone down and you were sitting in your living room, a random cheesy rom com on the television as you scrolled on your phone. You scrolled through your feed, seeing videos of your college friends out partying, drinking, and having fun. Then there was you, sitting at home with day old mascara on your lashes and sleep evident on your face.

There was a heavy knock on your door, with a raised brow you hop up from your couch and make your way over to the door, peaking through the peep hole to see who it was. And to your surprise, it was exactly who you were thinking of.

There Simon stood, a bottle of champagne and a single red rose in his hands as he bounces on his heels, he was back to his regular shaggy look, unkempt hair, white t-shirt, blue jeans, and his silver dog tag hanging from his neck.

Quickly, you open the door with a smile and invite the man in. As he walks in towards your kitchen counter you quickly become aware of your appearance. Old makeup on your face, and crinkled clothes that you couldn't be bothered to iron.

However, at this point the two of you have seen each other at your worst, hell you've seen Simon running off of two hours of sleep with a sick little Oliver who wouldn't stop crying and coughing.

"Champagne and a rose? This feels like a date to me.." You tease running a hand across his shoulder as you pass him, earning a shiver from the man. you stand on the opposite side of the kitchen island as he takes a seat on one of the barstool chairs you have, sliding the bottle towards you.

"Take it however you want love." He laughs, running his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face, his bicep flexing in the process, and holy fuck.

You shake your head and pop open the bottle of champagne. "I'm glad I know you and Oliver, he's a good kid."

"You're such a big help with the little guy, I honestly don't know what I'd do without you. He loves you a lot." Simon is more soft spoken than usual as he twirls the rose between his fingertips.

You're frantically searching your cabinets for those champagne glasses you got all those years ago but have never used. You swear you still had them.

"It's no biggy. He's a joy to have around and probably one of my only friends!" You laugh, sighing after you cant find those dumbass champagne glasses and grabbing two mugs out of the cabinet instead. Not quite what you'd normally drink something like champagne out of, but it would have to work.

"So I'm not considered a friend? I see how it is," Simon fakes a hurt expression as he takes a mug from you with a raised brow. His shoulders shake in silent laughter after he looks at the mug to which it read "Male Tears" in big black lettering.

You laugh along with him, "Eh, I kinda like your son more than you, he's less broody," You tease, pouring the champagne into each of your mugs. Your mug saying "Reading is Sexy" with blue lettering.

There the two of you sat, at your kitchen island drinking cheap champagne out of coffee mugs with a single red rose placed between the two of you.

-

After a few hours and an entire bottle of champagne, the two of you sat on your couch together, a movie on your tv.

You sat with your legs draped across Simons lap, his hand resting on your knee as his fingers gently rubbed circles into your skin. It tickled, but in a good way.

You fought sleep, your eyelids slowly shutting and reopening. Your breath was calm and slow, a comfortable silence had fallen between the two of you.

"Gettin' sleepy love?" Simon asks with a chuckle, his deep blue eyes lingering on you as he rubs up and down the length of your leg.

You don't bother answering verbally, you don't have the energy. You shake your head in a quiet and small 'no', your hand coming up to rub your eyes. What time was it? It couldn't be that late.

With a groan, you sit up and grab your phone off of the coffee table, tapping your screen a few times for it to turn on. Your screen nearly blinds you, a curse falling from you lips as Simon merely chuckles next to you. 11:57. Almost midnight already? You thought, there's no way.

Simon peaks over your shoulder and shakes his head, running his hands over his face with a yawn. "Surely I haven't been here all that long, it's definitely past our bedtimes," he teases as he moves your legs off of his, standing from the couch with a stretch, his shirt lifting, showing off a fucking happy trail. This man was too hot for his own good. It had to be a crime at this point.

You stand next to him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you yawn, making your way lazily towards the direction of your bedroom.

"I better get ta' goin'-" Simon begins, before you cut him off.

"Oh please, theres no way in hell you came over here just to hang out as friends, Simon." Your voice is low as you stand before him, your bodies mere inches apart as you stare up at him. Messy hair, sleepy eyes, and those god damn dimples shining through as he smirks down at you. You fuckin' knew it.

His arms wrap around your waist, his face nearing yours as he walks you backwards into your kitchen, your hips hitting the kitchen island. "I've been caught."

His breath smelling of cheap champagne and cigarettes as his lips grazed yours. His lips are soft as he finally kisses you, fitting perfectly against yours.

Simons hands remove themselves from your waist, landing on the kitchen island, trapping you between him and the counter. You deepen the kiss, standing on your tippy toes to match his force, earning an audible groan from the blonde man in front of you.

When the kiss ends, nothing but heavy panting and quiet curses fill the air. "Fuckin' hell love.." he whispers against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up and down your warm skin.

Quiet whimpers leave your lips as his lips work their way up to your ear, where he whispers a phrase that makes your knees want to buckle. "Get on the fuckin' counter doll, I've waited far to long for this and my tongue is tingling for your taste.."

Obviously, you do as he says, hopping up onto the cool granite. "Atta girl," he says, his voice raspy as he tugs the waistband of your pants down, pulling them off your legs as if he's been craving you for years. Maybe he has been..

In a swift motion he pushed you onto your back, earning a quiet yelp from you as your back touched the cold surface. With his eyes glued on your panties and his hands on your plush thighs you can't help but whimper, letting your head fall back onto the counter top.

"Fuckin hell lovie, you're already so wet..." Simon says through gritted teeth, the pad of this thumb rubbing slow circles against your clit, the feeling of the pressure over the fabric of your panties was enough for you to clench around nothing.

"Simon please-" you whimper, your hips rolling against his touch, eager for more. This draws a chuckle from the man in front of you, he pulls his hand away with a smug smirk on his lips.

Not another word is shared between the two of you before Simon is kneeled on the tile flooring and he has your legs over his shoulders, his face at perfect height with your core. He pulls your panties to the side, groaning at the sight before him. He was so fucking hard right now, straining against the zipper of his pants.

He blows a cool puff of air against your cunt, watching as it flutters before it, his smirk never falters as he runs his thumb over your cunt, coving his finger in your juices.

"Riley I swear to the gods, if you don't stop playing with your food-" you begin, getting cut off with his tongue against your slit and his thumb rubbing circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves. His tongue works in and out of you, flicking and sucking, the noises that fill the kitchen are positively hypnotic. Your whimpers and moans mixed with the wet noises of Simons tongue between your legs. And to top it off, every time you buck your hips against his face he moans, a low growl like noise that makes you absolutely drip.

Simon is only using one hand to hold open your legs, his right hand has traveled down to his pants, unzipping his jeans and finally giving himself that oh so needed friction that he's been deprived of. His tongue goes flat against your cunt, his head shaking side to side, flicking his tongue every so often, just enough to catch the tip of your clit.

He palms himself through his boxers, rutting into the palm of his hand. "You like that baby? You're gettin' louder.." he teases as he sucks on your clit, causing your back to arch off of the counter top and your hands to fly to his hair, tugging on the blonde strands, pressing his face into your greedy little cunt even more.

"Simon! Right fucking there, please please please..." You moan, your thighs threatening to close around his head as your legs shake with pleasure. Your breath is quick and your moans are loud as Simon god damn Riley holds your legs open, sucking and licking your clit, you were about to fall apart right then and there, but after he shoves two fingers into your cunt you absolutely crumble.

The orgasm rushes throughout your body, your grip on his hair tight. He doesn't stop though, his tongue stays glued to your clit, his fingers moving at a pace that makes your writhe, drawing out this heavenly orgasm as long as he can.

You're already fucked out as he pulls his fingers out of you, kissing your fluttering cunt, kissing up your torso and tugging your shirt over your head to kiss all the way up your lips. This kiss was everything passionate, the taste of you still lingering on his lips.

Your eyelids are heavy and your chest rises with a quick pace, still trying to come down from your high. Sweat glitters your skin, your panties hanging from your ankle and your mascara running down your cheeks. "So beautiful, so fucking gorgeous baby.." Simon whispers as he kissed you on the forehead, running his hands over your cheeks. "But we're not done yet, no no no, this night isn't over until I fill you up so full that Oliver will have a fucking sibling by tomorrow.." His voice is deep and sultry, pulling you up off the counter by your wrists and tossing you over his shoulder like a damn sack of potatoes.

With a yelp from you, Simon gives a little smacks to your ass. His quick strides make it to your bedroom in no time at all. He tossed you on the bed, you landing on your back, your toes bouncing along with the mattress, earning a low curse from the man in front of you. He stands at the end of your bed, quickly pulling his pants and boxers off of himself. He can't go another fucking second without being inside of you.

The image of this man crawling on top of you, his ink covered arms on either side of your head and your legs on either side of your hips as he pressed against you. It was all so much, your cunt was dripping, and from what you could see so was the tip of his cock.

Holy shit his cock, it was huge, veins running up and down the length of it. You figured he was from the start, but now that it's in front of you, how the hell will it all fit?

His hands reach for your thighs, pushing them up so your knees neared your ears, the tip of his cock teases the entrance of your cunt, the bead of pre-cum smearing all over your clit. You wiggle your hips, eager for something, anything but this fucking torturous teasing that this man seems so obsessed with.

"Simon.." You moan, earning a groan from the man. His eyes have not left you this entire time, his gaze wandering up and down your figure with a look of biting desire.

"Moaning my name like that..fuck," He groans through gritted teeth, pressing the tip of his cock inside, fucking finally.

You suck in a breath through your teeth, biting down on your bottom lip as you grip the sheets.

Simons eyes shut with pleasure as he pushes into you. Only to open once again to watch your face, watching for any looks of displeasure, he makes it about half way when your eyebrows furrow and your hand flies to his torso, pressing against his abdomen as a way to tell him to stop for a second.

"It's okay lovie, breath, you're taking me so well.." He whispers, leaning down to kiss your cheek, kissing away a single stray tear that had seemingly rolled down your cheek. Slowly, he continues to push into you, the two of you share a mutual moan as he finally bottoms out, his stomach pressed flush against your clit.

"Good girl, my good girl baby, yes.." He moans, his hands under your knees as he holds one leg over his shoulder and the other off the the side.

Your whimpers, his groans, and the smell of sex fills the bedroom. You rock your hips, indicating the need for friction. With pleasure, Simon gives you what you needs, rolling his hips and pulling out about half way before slamming back inside you. Your loud moans and pleases for more, more, more fill the room, causing Simon to let out a guttural groan, hai cock twitching inside of you.

Simon shifted his hips, dragging his cock out of you. It glistened with your arousal, and it made his face grow hot. He bit back a whimper when he pushed inside you once more. You gasped, and he did it again. Again and again until he had a set a rhythm that had your entire body on fire, writhing against the mattress.

"Yes yes, fuck Simon, makin' m' feel so good, I-" You whimper, your legs shaking and your eyes squeezed shut out of pure pleasure.

Simon had reached a hand down and was now rubbing circles on your clit. Your words had his brain swimming, his thrusts deepening and pace quickening. The tight ball of pleasure was drawing tighter and tighter in the base of your tummy, your cunt fluttering around his cock.

"Fuck baby, you feel so good..wanna put a fuckin baby in you lovie..." His voice is low, his groans turning into whimpers as his thrusts become sloppy, he's nearing his own climax. Your own peak is nearing, your cunt fluttering around his cock, clenching and squeezing as he moves at a pace that is absolutely intoxicating.

"Come for me, baby," he whispered. "Come on my cock. That's it, baby, yeah– good fuckin' girl."

His finger moves quickly against your clit, rubbing as his cock bullies in and out of your greedy little cunt. The force of his thrusts make your tits bounce, earning deep and needy groans from the back of Simons throat.

You came around his cock with a sob of his name, your cunt squeezing him tight as the ball of pressure snapped in your tummy. Your orgasm was hard, slamming over you and rendering you breathless, your head floating. Your clit pulsed beneath the movements of his fingers.

The tightness of your cunt earned a fucked out moan from Simon as he slams in and out of you, reaching even deeper than before. You wanted to scream. He was so deep. You were so full.

"Such a good girl, suck a greedy little cunt— so tight I don't think I'll be able to pull out-, yes baby.." He blabbered helplessly as he becomes utterly pussydrunk, his head lolling back and his eyes closing with pleasure.

"M'gonna come in this tight cunt," Si whispered, almost too quiet for you to hear. He spoke louder when he continued his sentence. "You want my cum, baby? You want me to come inside you? Want me to fill you up, fill this pretty tummy?"

"Yes! Please—!" You practically scream.

"I will— I'll fill you up with all of my fuckin' cum.." He moans, his thrusts sloppy and his grip on your thighs bruising. "Take it all like a good girl," he moaned. "Get you–fuck —get you pregnant. Fill you up with my kids. I'd look after you, baby."

You were basically screaming.

And with that Simon cums, your name falling from his lips as the white hot liquid spills from his cock into you. He doesn't pull out, tugging you up so that you straddled his hips, his hands on your as as he holds you up, him leaning back against the heels of his feet. The two of you share a tender kiss, his lips softly kissing your lips, cheeks, and neck.

"Fuckin' hell love.." He laughs, his voice raspy. He finally pulls out, a deep groan slipping from his lips as he watches his cum drip out of that sweet little cunt. Carefully, he lays you back down on the mattress, staring down at you with low eyes and a small smile on his lips.

"You were so good just now, you know that? So beautiful, so fuckin' hot-" He moves so he's laid beside you, his chest pressed against your back as he rubs small circles on your hip with his finger. "-I loved your moans, and the feeling of your pussy..just stay like this with me for a second, yeah?" His hand runs up and down your side, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as his breath tickles the back of your neck.

What an odd feeling. It all felt as if everything had always been like this. As if the two of you were meant to be, and this was all just natural.

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Simon and You sit in your living room together, his hand on your thigh and Oliver running back and forth with a superman action figure in hand making a 'swooshhh' sound with his mouth.

The promise ring on your finger sparkles as you look down at it, you can't take your eyes off the damn thing. It's been a week since he's given it to you, but every time you eye catches the little piece of jewelry you can't help but stare.

Three years of crushing and helping him raise his kid. One night of his name being moaned and orgasm after orgasm. Two weeks form that night he asked you out. It's been four months since he asked you to be his girlfriend. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly. But not, at the same time. It feels like you've know each other forever so it was natural. Nothing odd about falling in love so quickly.

Or maybe the love has always been there, it was the commitment and the confessions and the confusing mixed signals that were messing with the process.

But in the end everything had fallen in place. Simon still lives next door, but that is gonna change soon. He spends more and more time over at your place than his own. Both his and Oliver's clothes litter your laundry, and instead of one lonely toothbrush in the bathroom, there's now three.

Pink, Blue, and a tiny red one for Oliver.

This was how it was meant to be. Simon, Oliver, and you. And possibly another one. Simon is pretty eager for that addition. Now that was a little fast even for you.

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a/n: not to singledad!simon anymore. <33

p.s.- i tagged everyone who i saw asked to be, sorry if i missed ya! and thank you all so so much for all the love. i love all of ya so so much! <33