#But it's better than it being bottled up

[nabaath-areng]

Been impossible to take photos of these nails due to horrible weather lighting, but since it was specifically inspired by Ieeha I needed to figure out a way... thank you closet for having surprisingly decent lighting and dresses for being a surprisingly decent backdrop!!!

[somnas-writes]

Truly believe in my heart of hearts that Azriel was meant to be some whimsical woodland creature and instead got put in this James Bond ass job

[moyazaika]

dean is the type of guy to take you out on a movie date except the movie is a surprise and you think you're about to watch something romantic but he actually got u tickets for the most disgusting vomit inducing gory horror movie of the decade just to mess with you if you're squeamish.... and he thinks it's hilarious

first date with this cute guy and he buys you a big bucket of warm, buttery popcorn and some choc tops, and you’ve got your 3D glasses on, and you turn to him because you just can’t help but wonder—and he hums when you start with a “hey dean?” that ventures towards the inevitable question; “what movie are we watching?”

“don’t you worry, honey bunny.” he grins easily, reaches out for the cool bottle of lemonade besides your seat, in the cup holder furthest from him; “i picked out something that’ll be fun for the both of us.” it’s strange, considering he has his own drink, and there’s only one straw in yours, but all you’re thinking about is how lucky you are that such a considerate guy likes you. <3

you settle down when the lights dim and the excited murmur in the cinema quells to a nervous sort of silence. anticipation, maybe. dean reaches out to squeeze your hand when the film starts, and you’re glad he chooses not to let it go when the title flashes across the screen in big red letters.

EVIL DEAD RISE

[arthisan]

i just find it SO FUNNY that arthur, an m.i.t. man, a mechanical engineer, a man of many inventions, probably the best man to solve a leak, to fix a broken apparatus, what have you, will always be broken up about the way he can't find a way to repair himself immediately

[mochiwrites]

being so honest I don’t understand how people can expect you to be doing things constantly every single day. I’m supposed to be on summer break but my university expects me to send in 80 sources for my senior thesis by next week

the very thought of doing school work right now makes me want to cry. I can’t even open a blank document and start writing for my own fics. I can’t even engage in my own hobby right now because I’m so mentally exhausted. how can you expect me to do thesis work? I’ve hardly had a break since finals

my personal life has been an ongoing shitshow since last summer. and has only gotten worse in recent months. how can you expect someone to function in society when you throw one thing after another at them?

I’m so tired and done. but I have no choice other than pushing through it because that’s what’s expected of me! that’s exhausting

[tennis-kittens]

Dominic Thiem • Generali Open 2023 • Trophy Ceremony

[concorp]

still don’t plan to watch any purgatory streams, but i feel so much better having worked through why i dislike it so much and what, in my opinion, caused the event to be such a mess.

its good to analyze what does and doesn’t work with media and what caused it to be so! feeling mad and upset is a lot easier to deal with when you understand what exactly is making you mad and upset and why it was created in that way.

[br1ghtestlight]

"why is this fanfic so focused on how BIG BOB feels about lily's illness and death why does it always center his feelings instead of hers" well you see the thing is that its written from his pov so it is focused on what he feels. Hope this helps

[kelpiemomma]

The screaming had lasted for hours.

Not screaming like someone was dying; Ingo would have intervened if that were the case.

In some ways, the argument he could almost hear was worse.

The twins had come round with Cori and Razz, picking up Akari and Rei and taking them out for ice cream when it had started. Ingo had asked Davis about it who had, reasonably, looked uncomfortable.

"Dizzy loves our brother, she really, really does. But she... takes his lifestyle personally. They're very similar like that." Davis had responded quietly. "It's an old argument with no end. This happens- not normally in front of the kids, so Khan had us take them out of the house when she started winding up, and Cor asked if we could grab Akari for ice cream and..."

Ingo had let them go, sitting at home and listening. He couldn't hear the words but he could hear the tone. How angry Dizzy was, how it would go quiet and then there would be another outburst. Only a handful of times did Khan raise his voice in return at his sister, but never for very long. Ingo couldn't remember having any arguments like that with Emmet. He didn't remember their childhood, but the memories he had recovered of their teenage years and before his accident... he didn't think he and his twin had ever been quite so volatile.

Then again, there had been no signs of this sort of conflict between the oldest siblings either. If he wasn't hearing it, he'd never have thought they'd fight like this. Given the lack of interference from the rest of the neighborhood he wagered Davis was right, and that the best way to deal with this storm was simply to ride it out.

When the argument finally ended he was standing by his window that looked into his neighbor's front yard, worried. Dizzy stormed out with Khan following quickly behind. Ingo had never seen him look so... small. It was hardly a word one would associate with the young man, given his height and stature, and yet it was the only word Ingo could think of to describe him.

He watched as Khan reached for his sister, only for her to turn and slap his hand away.

“Why can’t you even try, you self-sacrificing bastard? You never even try!”

She stomped down the sidewalk, slamming the door to her car shut before turning it on and pulling out at a decidedly unsafe speed. Ingo watched as Khan stared after her, shoulders still slumped, before he put a hand up to his face and turned to walk back into his home.

Maybe it would be better to leave well enough alone, to pretend he hadn’t overheard… _that,_ but Khan was… well. Khan was his friend. Things may have been shaky to start with between them, but they had smoothed out. Khan knew about Ingo’s amnesia and never once judged him for it. Now, Ingo knew about… this.

Still. He hesitated before walking out of his own home and down the sidewalk to his neighbor’s, glancing around at the rest of the homes on the street. Blinds were slowly opening, curious eyes peeking through to see what still stood in the wake of the hurricane argument. The door to Khan’s home was unlocked when he tried the handle and Ingo slowly opened the door.

“Khan?” He called out.

There was a sniffling sound, a familiar hitch of breath.

“Yeah?” Khan’s voice was thick and low when he replied. “What’s up, need something fixed?”

“No, I…” Ingo shut the door behind him. The house was in one piece. For all the screaming and noise it appeared that nothing had been broken. The argument may have sounded violent but nobody had gotten physical. “I heard what happened and I was wondering if you were… alright.”

“Oh, you… you heard that?” Khan hadn’t come out to find him and so Ingo continued towards his voice instead. “Well,  yeah. They could probably hear that on the moon.”

“Possibly. I was unaware that Dizzy’s volume could rival my own.”

Khan was sat in the kitchen, slouched down in one of the chairs he’d built by hand. A byproduct of one of the many jobs he’d taken to keep his siblings fed, homed, and safe. He still looked, to Ingo’s dismay, small. Defeated. Deflated of all life.

“Yeah, she’s got some pipes on her. Always has. About burst my eardrums when she was a toddler, the way she’d howl when she threw a fit.”

One hand was rubbing at his face and his shoulders were still shaking intermittently. Ingo paused, uncertain, before he rested a hand on Khan’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what happened, but if you’d like to talk about it… or if you’d prefer, I can leave?”

Khan was silent long enough that Ingo prepared to straighten up, head out the door, and pretend this had never happened.

Khan leaned forward, rubbed his eyes again, and shook his head.

“You can stay,” he said quietly, and Ingo pretended he didn’t see the tears falling onto the floor, “it’s fine. You can stay.���

[redstrewn]

But the magic of human consciousness is a two-edged sword. We can use it to shape a brave new world or crack open a Pandora's box of hidden devils to destroy our world and all life on this planet. The temptation to misuse power is a hidden aspect of any archetypal figure; but since the powers of the Magician are so primitive and subtle, this temptation is his special bête noire. It is perhaps in recognition of this fact that the Magician's "black beast" is specifically pictured in card fifteen, where we shall meet him as the Magician's shadow, the Devil.

In Jungian terms, the shadow is a figure appearing in dreams, fantasies, and outer reality that embodies qualities in ourselves which we prefer not to think of as belonging to us, because to admit to these would tarnish our image of ourselves. So we project these seemingly negative qualities onto someone else. Such a person seems to always haunt our dreams, disturbing the atmosphere by saying or doing inappropriate or even downright devilish things.

Sallie Nichols, Jung and Tarot: An Archetypal Journey (1980)

[cowboysmp3]

i think the most evil thing testosterone did to me is rid me of my ability to cry. it’s not that i feel the urge to cry less in fact i feel the urge to cry the exact same amount and yet there’s a terrible barrier !!!!!!!

[e77y]

Seriously need to make more friends or go outside more (both things are easier said than done) bc I am a little bit tired of relying on content creation for attention and connection :(

[chelliebelle]

I DON'T SEE A RING ON YOUR FINGER | n. kento

꩜ SUMMARY . . having just finalized his divorce, a bitter kento tries to find the end to his sorrows in the bottom of a liquor bottle. but when a pretty young thing comes fluttering by his side, he decides there's no better time to get laid than now. ꩜ WORD COUNT . . 4.9k words of flith <333 ꩜ CONTAINS . . smut, divorcee!kento, reader is described as slutty, age gap (reader is in her early twenties and kento is in his late thirties), sexual frustration, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, pussy slapping, spanking, rough sex, biting, spitting, they're kind of drunk, choking, bruising, pussy drunk!kento ꩜ AUTHOR'S NOTE . . kento's balls practically shriveled during his sexless marriage so best believe he's gonna enjoy himself!!

Nanami Kento had it all. 

A two-story house in the suburbs, a high-paying job, a beautiful wife—he had the perfect life. And damn did he hate every second of it. He hated waking up in that house to greet his nosy neighbors, hated driving to his soul sucking office job, and especially hated going home to his wife every night. She’d leave him leftovers in the fridge and kiss him goodnight before bed, and Kento would stay up every night wondering how to escape this limbo.

Tonight was the first time he felt free in years. Sitting at some shitty bar he can't remember the name of, he absentmindedly fiddled with his wedding band. Months ago, this little piece of metal meant everything. A loving marriage. A promise of a future. A sign of success. Now? It's just a worn-out ring that he can't throw out.

Kento sighed, setting it down on the table in favor of a glass of whiskey, letting it burn down his throat as he took a sip. He was never a drinker, but maybe it was something he repressed over the years. What else had he missed out on while trying to play Mr. Perfect?

Right, sex.

Kento was so obsessed with a picture perfect life that he even married someone he barely knew. She was pretty and nice enough—boring as fuck now that he thought about it—but that was enough for him to get down on one knee and take her down the aisle. What he didn't take into account was his own needs. All a man needed after a long day of work was some pussy, and he was no different. Mrs. Nanami was beautiful, sure, but one hell of a prude. If he was lucky, he got laid about once a month. Even then, she'd just lay stiff on the bed while he fucked her. If Kento didn't see the rise and fall of her chest, he'd assume he was sleeping with a corpse.

This meant that every night after his wife fell asleep, he'd go to his study to jack off to porn on his computer. It was enough for him to go to bed without a raging hard-on, but only having his hand to rub his cock raw all the time took a toll on him. Kento stopped initiating anything with Mrs. Nanami, opting to go straight online whenever he felt his dick twitch. For years, he lived like this.

Wake up, go to work, get home, say goodnight to wife, jack off.

Until a few months ago when his wife said she wanted a divorce. She must've been expecting him to start a fight, because her face fell when Kento nodded without a second thought. It was a long time coming. Sure, he believed he should've been the one to divorce her, but at least he was gonna be free. The days after she moved out was the happiest he had ever been. Waking up in an empty bed and coming home to an even colder bed filled him with a sense of contentment he thought he'd never feel again.

Cheers to being single, he thought to himself as he ordered another drink. As he waited, he couldn't help but sigh. The ink on his divorce papers hadn't even dried yet and he was already thinking of getting his dick wet. Kento hadn't had good pussy since he was twenty. The thought of cheating never even passed his mind during his marriage, opting the company of his own right hand over breaking the promise he made to his wife. Ex-wife.

He brought the rim of the glass to his lips, eager to drink himself to sleep, until the scraping of a barstool broke his concentration. "Drinking alone, handsome?"

The voice was soft and feminine, making him turn his head in curiosity. It came from a young girl, probably still in college but wearing a tight dress that looked like it came off a stripper. Kento wasn't a boomer by any means, but he still found himself disapproving how there was more skin than fabric on her body.

Kids these days.

Retrieving his gaze, he let out a quiet hmm before turning back to his drink. That didn't deter you, a girlish giggle leaving your lips as you leaned towards him.

"Seriously, there's no way you're here alone. Is this a set up? Where are the hidden cameras?"

College kids were so weird these days. With a scrunch between his brows, he shakes his head as he lets out a low rumble that makes your stomach twist. "Sorry to disappoint, kid. It's just me, no hidden cameras."

When he turns his head to face you, he's surprised at how close you were to him. Kento could smell the vodka shots off your breath. It reminded him of when he was as young as you were, getting drunk off cheap liquor. A soft pink dusted your cheeks, along with a tipsy smile that made his chest warm for some reason. You seemed to catch him staring, reaching out to rest your hand on his bicep.

"You look like...really put together. Like you do your taxes and sleep early or something."

The choked cough he lets out when you touch him makes the whiskey burn up his nose, hand coming up to cover half his face. Just a friendly gesture from a girl made him act like this? Get it together, Kento. Scoffing, he shrugged off your hand as he looked away. You pout as he does so and the sight fills him with regret immediately. Before he can apologize, you knock your head against his shoulder, nuzzling against him like a spoiled kitten. Guilt pools in the pit of Kento's stomach when his cock twitches in his slacks. Not now!

"Do you have a name, handsome mystery man?" you mumble against his shirt, the action making his loins burn. He seriously considers pushing you away but decides you're probably too drunk to function right now. After a few beats pass, he reluctantly grumbles a "Kento" in response. You're quiet save for a soft hum and Kento is left hating himself for getting hard at how clingy you're being.

Poor girl, you're clinging to someone who you think looks dependable in this shady ass bar. Or at least that's what he thinks until you grab his wrist and bring it up to your face. For a moment, he assumes you're trying to get a look at the Rolex around his wrist, the sleek gold glinting in the air. He has to repress a sigh—until he realizes your attention is actually on his hands. Kento's fingers are lengthy from years of typing at his desk everyday, the digits at least twice as thick as yours. Pretty veins run along his knuckles and up his forearms, disappearing under the fabric of his rolled sleeves. You can't help but sigh, eyes flickering up to his with admiration.

"Your hands are like, really...big."

He immediately pulls his hand away with a bewildered look, clicking his tongue as he adjusted the watch around his wrist, ignoring the whine you let out.

"What does that even mean?" he huffs, his fingers twitching at the traces of heat from your delicate hand grabbing his. You giggle at his reaction, slumping against him until your chest presses against his arm.

"I wonder what you can do with them, m'sure you'd know how to use them good."

Oh. Oh. When his gaze connects with your breasts that are almost spilling out the top of your dress and the sultry look in your eyes, only then does he realize that he's being hit on.

"Look, kid. I'm m—" he catches himself before he finishes his sentence. Fuck, was he going to say he was married? The wedding band in his other hand suddenly felt much heavier and he quickly shoves it in his pocket.

"...much older than you, I'm almost twice your age."

Another mellifluous giggle leaves your lips and Kento has to hold himself back from shutting you up so that blood stops rushing to his dick.

"I think you're flirting with me," you tease, rubbing your chest against his arm. If he focuses, he swears he can feel your hardened buds brushing against him through your dress. Not even wearing a bra, you're begging to be fucked. The thought of being the one to take you home tonight passes his mind but he shoves it away. You're drunk and almost half his age, it'd be wrong. All rational thought comes flying out the window when your hot breath fans against his ear.

"But, I also think you're really hot, Kento. So maybe we can..."

Your words fall on deaf ears as his eyes flutter shut and his head tilts back. Kento was never a religious man, but in this moment he prayed to the gods above for clarity. You were offering yourself up to him like a hog on a silver platter, tied up with an apple in your mouth for him to devour. He couldn't help but imagine your glassy eyes rolling into the back of your head, your sweet lips hanging open when he drives his cock deep into your tight and wet cunt—

Fuck it.

Will he ever get another chance to bring a pretty young thing like you home? The thought is what drives him as he grabs your wrist to drag you out the bar and into his car.

When you approached the hot stranger earlier, you sure didn't expect that it'd end with you moaning with his hand between your legs.

Drunk out of your mind, your gaze had fell onto the brooding man at the bar, eyeing his rippling muscles under his crisp blue shirt. Now that was a back you'd love to scratch up. It didn't take long for you to stumble on your too-high heels towards the blonde man. You were never this forward but something about him had you squeezing your thighs together. Maybe it was the silent classiness that screamed luxury, the heat in his eyes that burned every time his gaze lingered on you—or maybe it was how he practically flung you over his shoulder and ran all the red lights to take you home.

But never in a million years had you expected that man to be this nasty.

His lips tasted like heavy liquor, tongue sloppily tangling with yours as he slammed you against the door, one hand coming up to cup your jaw. You were used to bad french kisses from frat boys, all teeth and smelly breath, but the way Kento was devouring you made you lightheaded. 

"What a dirty mouth, wonder if you pussy's even wetter."

He pushed your legs apart with his foot and let his hand wander up your inner thigh. You gasp when he finds your mound, panties thoroughly soaked. The scoff that leaves his lips makes your cheeks flush. He cooes as he drag a thick digit along the clothed slit of your cunt, swallowing up your weak moans with his mouth.

"I don't even need to prep you," he chuckles, shaking his head as his thumb prods at your bud hidden beneath your folds.

"You have such a smart cunt, s' already drooling for me."

Kento pulls his hand from between your legs and grabs the back of your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist. Head still spinning from the alcohol, you lose your balance, but the death grip he has keeps you upright as he carries you to his bedroom.

It's scantily decorated and you note that the bed it a bit too big for someone living alone, but you forget all about it when your back hits the plush mattress.

His eyes are wide as if he's trying to commit the sight of you to memory, every exposed sliver of skin and plush flesh permanently burned into his mind. Before you know it, Kento's hands are everywhere—gripping your waist, squeezing your thighs, yanking your dress up like he's unwrapping the first real gift he's ever had. Your slutty dress is long forgotten on his bedroom floor, and fuck, he's hard. Painfully so.

How can't he be when your sweet body is all on display for him?

Kento can't find it in him to give a damn about some dress when all he can see are your perky tits, so soft and malleable. He doesn't spare a moment to admire the view, slapping your breasts till they jiggled deliciously. Before you can whine about how mean he's being, he attacks your tender chest, lips wrapping around the mounds of flesh. It catches you off-guard and you tug at his hair, but he only bites down around your nipple, flicking his tongue over the hardened bud.

"Don't." 

His voice is a low growl you never heard before, and damn if it didn't make your clit throb with need. Right on cue, he pries your legs apart and gets on his knees between them, mouth never leaving your breast. The way his hips grind against you is vicious, as if he's been waiting years for this. Which, in a way, he has. Kento has spent too many nights in his cold bed, jerking off to the thought of someone warm beneath him. Now that he has it? Best believe he's not letting you go tonight.

Your heat seeps through the fabric of your underwear and he can tell that you're making a mess all over the front of his slacks, his bulge covered in your slick. Clicking his tongue, he pushes your knees against your chest to come face-to-face with your clothed core. His thumb tugs at the lace of your panties, lifting your hips to slide it over your ass and letting the flimsy fabric dangle on your ankle.

He intended to teach you a lesson, but his brain short-circuits when he sees your weeping cunt. Your chubby lips were glistening with slick from his teasing, that pretty clit hidden under your swollen folds. Kento hasn't had a taste of pussy in years, so he can't resist leaning forward to roll his tongue against your slit.

Immediately he's gone.

He laps at you like a man starved, locking his arms around your thighs to keep you spread open for him. Mrs. Nanami was never this wet for him and it had messed with his confidence for a while, but your sweetness was all it took to bring him back. His cock twitches at the sight of you writhing under him, the front of his slacks now completely stained with precum. Kento nearly forgot to breathe with how absorbed he was in your pussy.

“You're like a piece of candy,” he mouths against your sensitive cunt, pushing the tip of his tongue into your warm entrance. “So sweet, can eat you up all night.”

Your thighs tremble and clamp around his head, the action only pushing him closer against your waiting heat, nose bumping against your clit. Kento moaned as he flattened his warm tongue against you, making out with your cunt with more fervor than when he had kissed you. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, Kento completely forgets about his aching hard-on, hips instinctively rutting against the mattress with every swipe of his tongue. Your lips were so puffy that he couldn't resist biting down, latching his lips onto your neglected bud and sucking hard.

You almost cry out at the sensation, reaching your hand down to pull at his hair as you thrash under him, feeling your thighs quiver. "S'too much! Gonna make me come—"

SMACK.

His palm had landed flat on your cunt.

"None of that. You wanted my attention, now take it." 

The mean rumble of his voice along with the harsh slap against your sensitive heat sent you over the edge, coming onto Kento's face as your back arched off the bed. He was more than eager, lips hanging open as he swallowed up every drop of your sweetness.

Like heaven on his tongue.

Your taste was addictive, making him groan with every bob of his Adam's apple. Kento slurps up all the wetness he can get, chin glistening with your essence once he pulls away. The sudden orgasm had you panting, only coming back to your senses when you heard the sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor, lifting your head up at the exact moment Kento tugged his ruined boxers down.

His heavy cock slapped against his sweaty washboard abs, leaking onto his abdomen. You had seen enough subpar dicks in your life to know that he was big, the idea of it stretching you open making your pussy drool. Pretty veins ran along the base, leading up to his thick tip that was already dribbling pearls. It was an angry red, sensitive from rubbing against the fabric of his slacks. You could've sworn his cock twitched when his eyes locked with yours.

He reluctantly rolls on a condom, mumbling something under his breath as he strains against the pink rubber. Should just fuck this pussy raw. Luckily, he still had enough common sense to stop him from begging you to let him go in without protection. Kento grabs your thighs, hefty length dragging down your slit as he positioned himself between your legs. With his cock resting on your mound, you can tell he's gonna be so deep in your tummy that you'll feel him tomorrow.

“I'll make sure of it, pretty girl,” he chuckles, slapping his member against your puffy clit.

Did you actually say that out loud—?

Your cheeks puffed up at his words, an embarassed flush on your face at your little slip-up. He's so heavy between your legs that you wonder how he'll even fit. Kento's hand reaches to pull you flush against him by the ankle, propping your leg up his shoulder, groaning as his cock dragged between your lips.

"You're so wet," he muses, pumping himself lazily before he lined himself up your entrance. "Bet you're gonna take me like a good girl, hmm?"

You gasp when he pushes his flushed cockhead between your swollen folds, struggling past tight rings of muscle. So tight. Fuck, he should've known—you were just a little brat who thought she could handle him. He hisses as your walls clamp down around his tip, nails digging into your hips as he tries to catch his breath. 

"Loosen up, sweetheart. You're gonna snap off my dick."

Kento stayed like that, tip twitching inside your warm pussy, before he pushes forward once more. He's bigger than any cock you've taken before. Unprepared for the stretch, your brows knit together when he bullies his way into your cunt. He barely makes it a few inches in before your eyes start to water. Your insides were being stuffed to the brim. You take a deep breath, weakly shaking your head as your thighs tremble.

"K-Kento, please—" Please? 

You didn't even know what you were begging for, did you? How cute. With a sigh, he pulls out from the comfort of your pussy. You let out a sigh of relief, before a warm liquid hit your bare lips. With the viscosity dribbling between your folds, you realized that was Kento's spit. Your gaze flickered up towards him but he focused on other things—like the way your clit twitched when his saliva hit the neglected bud. Eyes dark and brows knitted, he reached down to thumb at your sensitive nub, a choked moan leaving your lips.

"Ease up, that's right," he praised, using the wetness to roll his hips forward. 

Your walls fluttered around him, your moans egging him on as he continued to feed you more of his monster cock. Kento never needed this amount of prep with Mrs. Nanami, considering she always seemed so...bored. He was even beginning to think he was bad at sex! But the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head told him all he needed to know. A low groan rumbled in his chest when he finally bottomed out, his tip kissing your cervix. After so long with only his hand as company, he worried he'd come the second he was inside you. The way you were squeezing his dick didn't help either. Kento swallowed hard, trying to take deep breaths as he let you adjust to his size.

"How are you so tight?" 

When his panting reached your ears, you let out a slurred mumble, eyes unfocused as you tried to look up. He leaned down, forehead resting against yours to regain his composure. Body covering yours, he only buried himself deeper all the way to the hilt. It was like your mind went blank.

"Ngh—you're just too big!" you managed to shout, eyes glassy from how he kept nudging against your womb.

That was all it took for Kento to lose his mind.

Locking an arm around your leg, he fucked into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as his hips snapped forward. His pace was merciless, knocking the breath out of your lungs with every mean thrust. 

"Yeah? How deep am I?" he growled, his grip on your waist bruising.

 All the way in my tummy, you try to say, but you were too fucked out to answer. Just a few thrusts had you dumb on his cock, glossy lips hanging open weakly. The sight makes Kento chuckle, holding onto your thighs as his skin smacked against yours.

It had been years since he had been in a pussy this wet and eager for him. He was in love with your cunt. The slickness as he slid past your folds, the way your walls tried to milk him—but the cock drunk look in your eyes was the cherry on top. Kento turns his head to the side, pressing kisses onto your calf as he fucked you. 

Come back, pretty girl.

When he notices your lack of response, he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh, emphasized with a harsh thrust that made you scream. "Kento, slow down," you cry out, heat churning in your belly from the cruel pistoning of his hips.

He only chuckles, shaking his head before he sped up his pace. The shocked look in your eyes made him reach down to rub tight circles on your clit for relief. Loud squelches and the slapping of skin-on-skin filled the air, the room reeking of sweat and sex. Kento's eyes locked on the way your ass bounced back against his pelvis with every thrust, cock twitching as he thought of taking you from behind. He continued to jackhammer into you, strings of profanities leaving his lips. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into. As you mumbled incoherently on the verge of tears, a hand wrapped around your throat.

"Shh. Your sweet pussy's talkin' to me," he tuts, squeezing your throat to shut you up. 

His hand completely engulfed your neck, rough palm pressed tightly against your pulse. Gasping for breath, you could feel your head spin from the lack of air. You rake your nails along his back, digging crescents into his skin to try and make him let go. Kento hissed at the sensation, cockhead slamming hard against your g-spot. It was too much—the delicious stretch of his cock, the way his tip kissed your gummy insides with every thrust, his hand around your throat—the knot in your stomach snapped. Even when you tried to push the heat down, your climax ripped through you like white lightning. 

Your back arched off the bed, cursing out Kento's name as your orgasm shook through your body. The man nearly collapsed on top of you, a sharp groan leaving his lips as your walls clamped down and milked his cock so suddenly. His grip on your throat loosens and you thrash under him. 

You might die from how good he's dicking you down. 

Rolling onto your stomach, you stumble as you get on your hands and knees to try and crawl off the bed. A pair of rough hands grab onto your waist, followed by heavy panting that makes your blood run cold.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Kento spits, dragging you back against him. 

He'd be damned if he let the first good pussy he's had in years get away. Even when you try to thrash and break free, your body is too weak from coming so hard! His palm lands a harsh smack against your ass, your arms collapsing under your body as you cried out. Kento pushed your head down into the pillows, propping you up by the back of your knees. Face down, ass up. The sight of you so vulnerable with your glistening pussy on display made him lick his lips, quickly positioning himself behind you. 

"Naughty girl, trying to run away from me," he tuts, swiping his tip up and down your creamy folds.

As punishment, he reached down to pinch your clit, earning a choked sob from you. He rolled the bud between his fingers, resting his free hand on the plush of your ass. Cock throbbing for release, he buried himself to the hilt in one thrust, setting up a mean pace immediately.

Yep, might die from this dick. 

Every slam of his hips against yours had you sobbing into the pillows, the fabric damp with your salty tears. Your body was still reeling from your multiple orgasms, cunt fluttering around him. Even if it was too much, Kento was fucking you so good your insides had molded to every ridge and vein of his cock. Your tits jiggled with every thrust and he wasted no time in grabbing your hefty breasts, playing with your soft nipples. He buried his head in the tender area where your neck and shoulders connected, groaning against you. 

Kento was getting close, you could tell from how frantically he rutted into you. His cock throbbed inside you, pulsing against your gummy walls. You couldn't resist the urge to push your ass back into him, making his dick hit even deeper inside you. You were half sure he was bulging through your tummy at this point. The action made him suck in shallow breaths through his teeth, keeping a death grip on your ass as he bulllied your cunt.

"Fuuuck, I'm gonna come," he groans into your shoulder.

His face scrunched up in pleasure, panting heavily into your skin as he buried his cock deeper and deeper. Seeing such a composed man this broken made your cheeks flush. Your walls were heavenly, every clench pushing him closer to the edge. 

Screw his hand. Coming from your pussy squeezing him was better that jacking off to any porno he could watch online. 

With a strangled moan, Kento shot thick spurts of cum into the condom, as if he hadn't finished in years. He collapsed on top of you, the orgasm rendering him unable to even hold himself up anymore. It was like losing his virginity all over again. You whine as the rubber began to fill up with his load, heavy in your pussy. After a few moments to catch your breath, you tried to push yourself off him, worried he'd spill into you.

"We should probably take that off—" 

Kento shut you up immediately, grabbing your waist to drag your hips back on top of him. Now straddling his lap, his still hard cock prodded new places you had never even touched before, a pathetic moan leaving your lips. His blonde hair was messy and dripping with sweat, eyes glazed over as his cheeks flushed. You felt him twitch inside you when he met your gaze, the same fucked-out look in both your eyes. He definitely wasn't done with you yet.

"It's only midnight, sweetheart."

You'd be lucky to come out of here alive.

You spent the rest of the night going several rounds, trying every position possible before collapsing from exhaustion. What's for sure—sex would never be the same ever again. How could you go back to one night stands with shitty frat bros when an older man just gave you the dicking down of your life? 

The next morning, you roll on your side to see Kento sitting at the edge of the bed. His bare back was wrecked, littered with vicious nail marks and lipstick stains. You chew on your bottom lip, pulling the duvet over your chest. 

"Are we gonna see each other again?" you croak, voice hoarse from last night.

The muscles in his back tensed at your words. Kento didn't want to see the hickeys and bruises on your skin, undeniable marks of the years of frustration he took out on you. He actually slept with a girl almost half his age right after getting divorced.

Talk about issues. 

Though his stomach churned with guilt, the memories of last night flashed through his mind. How eager you were for him, your sopping cunt, your sweet whines. He was even starting to imagine what it'd be like to sink into you raw.

He couldn't deny how addicted he was to your body. Doing this once was one thing, but agreeing to meet you again? Kento let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. After a few moments, he spoke up.

"Let me check my schedule, pretty girl."

TAGS: @lucakaneshiroswife @susanhill @hana-patata @kenzieluvsnanami @luvingmyships @sutaagaaru @secretfoxmaker @savannaounana @ilyjupit3r @h4n1vs @supernatrualqueen @mayhaps-nerd @1ennj4 @jiwooahae @gojomaki @raenfall562 @l0v3rgirl-owo @levisjinchuriki @yourgirljasmine5 @nanamiscsleeve @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @jjkmenluver @vmpireslut @namorafushiguro @cindyneko-strider @zeunys @t4matar @c0ckdrunkk @mortallyshadysoul @red-writes @fferairy @vipblinkagase1111 @evieloves @jdopeisdope @cherryreads-blog @itsinherited @sparklyhologramstarfish @hannahhmelv @umiwu @sugurusjaz @miguelsonlywife @lyraa06 @illumissei @aneternallyexhaustedpigeon @celestialhvns @nanamisd0ll @blushedcheri @grr457 @yogichi @kaislashes @briefrebelfanalmond @fictionalytmenhavemyheart @kekeanna266 @airandyeah @hollowwolf22 @ssstingrayyyyyyyy

[suksatoru]

smile for the camera! — ft. k. bakugo x fem!reader

katsuki bakugo is tricked into smiling during an interview when they bring up your name!

you didn't notice it at first, but katsuki bakugo developed smile lines after meeting you.

he didn't smile much as a kid. most of his baby pictures consisted of him either crying, screaming, or making some sort of vulgar gesture at the camera. it only got worse as he entered his teen years. his temper calmed down a bit, sure. but the chances of catching katsuki bakugo smiling were as rare as catching lightening in a bottle.

the paparazzi were well aware of the famous dynamight barely having any pictures of him smiling out on the internet—there were three singular photos out there that consisted of him with a somewhat pleased expression on his face, and the only reason he looked that way was because you were in frame right beside him.

it seemed to be a well known fact that getting bakugo to smile was nearly impossible—but the current interviewer sitting in front of bakugo was determined.

"great explosion murder god dynamight—or, well, just dynamight sir—what would you say is your favorite part about being a hero?"

katsuki stops himself from rolling his eyes, already anticipating the rest of the interview's questions as he answers flatly

"the glory. the strength. and kicking ass—make that the first thing, actually."

"okay! now, i'd like to ask you a few more things..." the young woman chirps up, and katsuki sighs and tells her to continue. the next dozens of questions were just as he'd predicted—stuff like asking who his biggest inspiration was, what kind of merch his team would be putting out in the upcoming months, and what he thought his weaknesses were.

"—and i don't have weakness. i'm fucking perfect, ask anybody. now, are we done here?" he snaps, rolling his shoulders as he moves to stand up, eyes flitting towards the exit with nothing but disinterest

he'd spent an entire hour answering these stupid questions when he could've been out fighting villains, finishing up his paperwork, literally anything else would be more time fulfilling than answering baseless questions like these ones.

the interviewer's eyes widen when katsuki stands up from his seat, stretching his arms above his head with a grunt before she quickly interrupts him

"what about your wife!"

"....eh?"

"your wife!" she says, quickly collecting herself

"could you tell us about her? it seems like many of your fans are interested in learning more regarding you two! you have a very private relationship, so it's only natural for people to be curious!"

katsuki blinks, absorbing her words. slowly, his feet—once pointed towards the exit—shift ever so slightly towards the woman

"well...what do you want to know?"

and that's how katsuki found himself sitting in the same seat another hour later. except this time, he had the dorkiest grin ever plastered on his face.

"oh i knew i wanted to marry her the first time she yelled at me—she was pretty feisty back in our ua days. still is, but now all the insults she throws my way usually have the word babe or honey added at the end. she has a clever mouth, i'm warnin' ya—you don't wanna get into an argument with her."

the interviewer laughs, and katsuki decides he might come back to this station another time if they asked. he's... well, simply put, having fun.

he leaves after another forty minutes, only because his manager literally dragged him out of the room—he had a meeting to attend and then his patrol—but he left waving at the camera crew and in a far more better mood than he'd arrived in.

katsuki spends the rest of the day getting through all of his hero duties, the interview slowly being pushed to the back of his mind as he focuses on finishing all his work and coming home to you.

it's nearly nine pm when he opens the door to your shared apartment—groaning about how tired he was and how you better not be asleep—when he hears your padded feet running towards the main entryway to greet him

"you're home!"

he offers you a slanted grin, opening his arms for a hug

"missed ya today," he mutters, pressing a kiss onto your scalp as you peer up at him with a grin—looking a little too happy.

"what're ya cheesing so hard about?"

you hum, tapping the back of his thigh with a knowing grin

"your ma called. guess what she told me?"

katsuki groans, shrugging off his gauntlets and boots before tugging you towards the couch in the living room, flopping onto it while mumbling under his breath and pulling you towards his chest

"you two devils were probably gosspin' about me, that old hag better not have sent you any pictures or i swear—"

"she told me to turn on the tv and head to channel seven."

katsuki pauses, staring at you with furrowed brows. well, it couldn't have been him on channel seven, right? he didn't have any crazy villains to deal with for once, so it wouldn't make sense for him to be on one of the main channels today.

"what..."

he smacks his forehead with an embarrassed groan when you pull out your phone and show him your recording of his interview. you're practically bouncing on the couch beside him with glee as you shove the screen in his face

"you're smiling! they made it the cover of their video, too—gosh you look so cute when you smile! and you're talking about me!"

katsuki huffs, but watches you play back the video with a cheesy grin on your face. your round eyes are illuminated by the screen, and you re-watch the video with your lips parted in awe

"you got the real thing right in front of you but you'd rather watch that...i see how it is." he grumbles, something similar to a pout forming on his face when you still don't acknowledge him—too busy watching his video as you bring the phone closer to your face

"i'm going to screenshot your smiling face in this video and make it my profile picture on insta—"

he snatches the phone out of your hand, powering it off before tossing it aside and wrapping his strong arms around your waist in an iron grip

"i'll make that one of you snoring and drooling all over my chest my profile picture if you even think about it."

"i'm pretty sure half the comments on that video literally have your smiling face as their profile picture."

"...well that's a lot of people i'm gonna have to sue."

[readwritealldayallnight]

Part 3 of ‘Bird Watching’ aka hot construction worker Simon x single mom reader

He thinks your favourite colour must be yellow

It’s the first thing he notices when he walks into your flat, or rather, the first thing his brain registers as existing around you, because in actuality he’s unable to let his eyes stray from your form for even a second

From the corner of his eye, he spots a yellow rain jacket hung up by the front door as he kicks his boots off, sees yellow mugs drying next to the empty baby bottles by the sink, notices yellow pillows and blankets laid out across the couch next to a laundry basket, tiny onesies and burp cloths left half folded inside, notices an arrangement of drooping yellow tulips in a vase that have seen better days, and in the midst of all the sunshine scattered across a flat evidently well lived in, well loved, is you

You, in a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt that definitely doesn’t have dried spit up on it, bags beneath your eyes betraying the exhaustion that your smile refuses to divulge, and with a tiny baby cradled against your soft chest, you’re nothing short of a vision Simon feels unworthy to be bearing witness to, the epitome of everything he thought he would never have, would never deserve, pure and unabashed domesticity at its finest

He thinks you’re the most beautiful sight he’ll ever see

As privileged as he feels to have been invited inside your flat, inside your home, invited to take a glimpse into the four walls that keep you and your baby bird sheltered from the outside world where things aren’t all sunshine, another part of him wishes you’d never extended the invitation in the first place

When you’d answered the phone last night, he could tell immediately that he had called at an inopportune time

The sound of a baby’s displeased shrieking in the background was impossible to ignore, even over the sound of your sweet ‘Hello?’ coming through the line, but how was he meant to ask if this was a bad time, when you let out the most delighted, tantalizing little gasp when he’d said it was Simon calling

“Oh, Simon! It’s so nice to hear from you! How are you?” You’d asked him, voice sweet as a candy and addictive as a drug. How was he? Well when you said things like that, he felt like he was on the verge of either a heart attack or a relapse into something he was sure would leave him feeling high for the rest of his days, but he managed instead to tell you that he was fine, not that you’d heard his reply

Talking on the phone while holding a newborn who demanded her mum’s undivided attention proved to be a feat easier said than done

“Sorry, could you say that again?”

“Asked how you girls were holdin’ up?” He’d repeated for you, voice a little louder for you to understand over the noise

“We’re alright. Better now that you’ve called, we’ve been lookin’ forward to hearin’ from you. I mean- I don’t mean to get ahead of myself here but, I’m guessing you’ve called with good news? I hope?”

Simon couldn’t help but let the small chuckle that built in his chest and slipped past his lips, knowing that there wasn’t a single alternate reality out there where he’d allow himself to ever give you anything other than good news, give you any reason other than to smile

“It is good news.” He confirmed, smile widening when he could practically hear you grinning on the other end of the phone. “Though there are a few uh- kinks we might have to sort out.”

Whatever reply you might have given, Simon was unable to hear over the sound of tiny cries on the other end growing louder, more insistent

“Sorry, I think she’s ready for another feeding.” You’d explained to him after the interruption, unaware that the mental image you’d just painted in Simon’s mind, of your aching breasts being suckled on while you spoke to him over the line, had his heart skip a beat, shaking his head and willing himself to stay focused. “Feels like the little lady never stops eating.”

“Would it be easier if I met you somewhere? Might be able to give you all the details tha’ way.” He thought about how he’d have to thank your baby bird one day, for giving him an easy excuse to see you in person again

“Think you might be right.” You’d giggled softly through the phone, a deep blush creeping up Simon’s neck up to the tips of his ears at the sound

Now, Simon wasn’t overly thrilled at how easily you offered him your home address, in spite of him offering to meet you at a cafe, or a park, anywhere that’d be convenient for you, you’d explained to him that getting yourself and a newborn out of the house was more time consuming than the actual outing, and that you’d be happy to offer him a cup of tea for his troubles

As infatuated as he’d become with you since your last conversation, and as much as he’d hoped there was a sliver of a chance you’d been thinking of him too, he wasn’t keen on you so willingly giving your address to someone who was still more or a less a stranger, even if the stranger was doing you a monumental favour

But Simon couldn’t fault you for being sweet, for being kind, for being so trusting, for still looking at the world and seeing good where others saw nothing, for finding the sunshine in the darkness

On top of that, he could tell how exhausted you were, despite your cheery disposition over the phone, the sleep deprivation was clear as day, certainly playing a part in your willingness to invite a stranger into your home, no questions asked

And that had Simon’s heart aching the entire drive over to your flat, thinking about how you were taking care of this new little life, so dependent on you for everything, but who was taking care of you? Who was making sure you were looked after? You’d mentioned how it felt like she never stopped eating, but who was there to remind you to eat enough too?

That train of thought led to a small pit stop along the way, sweet and savoury treats sat in the display case of the bakery reminded him of how little he knew about you, how we wasn’t sure which ones you’d prefer, until finally he was walking out with a box tucked under his arm filled with one of everything

As he’d knocked on the door to the flat, part of him had even wondered if he should’ve gotten some groceries for you as well, remembering how you’d said getting out of the house was especially tricky now, but he had to reign himself in, not wanting to overwhelm you too early, to come on too strong. You’d soon enough discover how willing he was to help, it would only be a matter of time until everything settled into place, for now he would have to pace himself

For now, he could allow himself to enjoy the sight of you licking your lips as you pull a chocolate croissant out of the to-go box, let himself appreciate the comfortable silence of a meal shared between two- as you’d insisted he had to have something to eat as well- two mugs of steaming tea sat cooling on the table as the tiny bird snuggled in her wrap sleeps peacefully against your chest

He hadn’t been able to get much of a glimpse at her last time, tucked away under layers of blankets in her pram, and granted her mum had been holding most of his attention. But now he’s able to get a slightly better look at her as she snoozes on you, her body as tiny as he remembers his nephew having been once. She’s got her mouth open in a slight ‘o’, her petite little hand curled up against the top of your cleavage, she slumbers without a care in the world, knowing she’s in the safest spot she could ever be, listening to her mum’s heartbeat beneath her ear

And you, every time your hand rubs gently against her back or softly pats her little bottom, eyes glancing down to check on her and eyes beaming with intangible love and devotion, well, you appear to quite literally glow before him. The two of you look like a perfect puzzle, the pieces fitting together seamlessly to reveal a most beautiful image

Simon only hopes that there’s perhaps room for a third puzzle piece in the mix, a chance to discover an even more complete picture, one that maybe includes him

“Part of me wants to insist again that you didn’t have to do this, but I think I actually really needed it.” You say, wiping crumbs off the corner of your mouth with a finger, Simon’s gaze inevitably locked on the movement, mind wandering towards thoughts of licking chocolate remnants off your lips with his own tongue. “So I’ll say thank you instead. Again.”

“You’re welcome.” He replies with a soft chuckle reverberating through his chest, shoulders unconsciously straightening with the pride he feels swell within him, knowing that such a simple gesture could so easily please you. “Really, no need to thank me.”

“I just um-” you add, shifting slightly in your seat, fidgeting with your fingers as you avoid his gaze and look at the box of sweets instead. “I just would feel bad taking all of these if someone’s waiting on you at home that would like them too. Should we save some for ‘em?”

You’re cute, Simon thinks to himself, trying to get an answer to a question you don’t want to ask directly, tip toeing around it

“There ain’t no one at home, love.” He confirms, the term of endearment slipping out intentionally this time, feeling emboldened by being in your home, in your orbit, in your gaze, and apparently being on your mind too. “They’re all yours.”

The treats are all yours, yes, but what he doesn’t dare say yet is that so is his time, his attention, his focus, they’re all yours now birdie, if you’ll allow him to give them to, that is

The blush that creeps up your cheeks has his own blood rushing south, your shy smile imprinting itself to the front of his brain for safekeeping. You’re as sweet as any of the goods they made in that bakery today, and so he decides he’ll let you in on the other question you’ve been dancing around since you’ve been sitting here chatting

“So is the nursery spot. It’s yours, I mean. Or, rather hers I suppose.” He adds, jutting his chin towards the bundle laid across your bosom, noticing how your face stills at his words for a second, before blooming into the brightest expression he’s seen on you thus far

“Really? Oh my gosh, are you serious? I- okay hold on, let me try and lay her down in her crib. I’m too excited, I’m gonna wake her up.” You say, the pure joy evident in your voice as you slowly rise from your seat, a palm cradled against the back of her head as you excuse yourself down the hall towards what must be your bedroom, Simon’s eyes following your every move until your mismatched socked feet are padding back towards him a few minutes alter

“Simon, you- you really mean it? What did- how did you- what’s- just tell me everything!” You laugh, pulling your kitchen chair closer towards his side of the round table, sliding your mug across the wood towards you as you settle in, beaming eyes locked on his

He has to fight to reign in the grin threatening to stretch across his face as well, your excitement contagious as he angles his body towards you, not missing the way your eyes flit towards the flexing muscle of his arms for a split second, before returning to his face

Now, Simon’s had ample time between meeting the daycare’s director and walking into your flat, and each second has been spent wondering how he would go about this… situation he’s put himself into, considering what he should do about the little white lie he didn’t correct when the owner presumed Simon was inquiring about a spot for his child, a child she presumed he shared with his wife, rather than the woman he’d started falling for only days earlier

And yet with all that time, and as skilled as Simon once was at making life or death decision in the blink of an eye, not having had the luxury to consider actions and consequences when in the heat of the moment in what feels like a lifetime ago, he hasn’t been able to bring himself to a decision, hasn’t been able to convince himself that it’s worth bringing up at all, so long as no one tugs too hard on the loose string and unravels everything he’s working to seam together

After all, if Simon has it his way, the owner’s assumption won’t be wrong for too much longer, and so as he sits across from you, waiting for his answer, he decides that no one is being hurt if he omits the truth just a little while longer

“Easy ‘nough to find the owner, after all.” Not entirely true. “Turns out she’s a friend of a friend, who would’ve known?” Not true at all. “Told her I needed a favour, and she was happy to oblige.” A lie. “They had exactly one infant spot left open, and it’s yours now.”

“Oh, Simon, I- I don’t even know what to say! I was only expecting you to find me a phone number, or a name, or- I can’t believe you would do all of that.” You practically gush, pulling your knees up so you’re facing him entirely now. “I thought I was going to have to beg whoever was in charge for a chance, no one in the city is accepting infants right now. I just- Simon I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am, truly. But, why would you even do all of this? Even if you’re down playing it, it sounds like you went through a lot of trouble for us.”

Simon decides he’ll try a little honesty for a change

“The truth?” He asks softly, and you nod up at him, gaze wholly enraptured by whatever reply he’s about to offer you. “Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ ‘bout you. Either of you. But, you especially.”

“R-really?” You practically whisper, the blush on your cheeks as dark as ever, though your smile is anything but shy this time. He would dare say you look almost relieved at his words, a sentiment that has his heart skipping another beat.

“O’ course.” He answers easily, wondering how he’s gone all his life without this feeling stirring in his chest, the rush of chemicals to his brain addictive to say the least, wondering why he’s denied himself this joy for so long. But then again, it was you he was waiting on all this time, wasn’t it? “The director would like to meet you first though, she said there’s enrolment details to sort through or something, and she wants to meet- erm-” He trails off, motioning in the direction of the hall where you’ve laid the baby bird to rest

“Rosie. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe how rude I am, you’ve done all this for us and I haven’t even introduced you to her properly!” You say, a hand unconsciously smoothing over your stomach where she once grew, as though that would always be the place you considered her first home, as being within you. “Her name’s Rose, but she’s my little Rosie.”

“Tha’s beautiful.” He says, following your gaze as you look lovingly down the hall towards her, as though you could both see her through the walls.

“Thank you. I had no idea what I was going to name her, all throughout my pregnancy. I was literally in the hospital bed pushing her out and still unsure what I’d call her.” You reminisce with a small laugh, Simon hanging onto your every word as you offer him a glimpse into your reality a few months prior, the time before you’d turned his world upside down, a time when the foundation of your own world was being rocked.

“I was uh- I was by myself for it. Didn’t have anyone there, and this one nurse was so kind to me. She made me feel like I wasn’t alone, stayed with me for all of it, even after I’d delivered. Afterwards everyone kept pressuring me to come up with a name for her already, one doctor even told me I should’ve been able to look at her and just know. That mothers are supposed to know these things when they look at their baby. But there was so much happening- I just couldn’t decide, nothing felt right for her. Anyways, a few hours after I’d given birth the nurse came into my room and she’d gotten me flowers, probably from their gift shop. But it was a bouquet of roses, it was- it was the nicest thing anyone had done for me in a long time and I knew right away, that my girl was going to be a Rose.”

Simon can’t help but to sit in comfortably silence for a moment, letting that information sink in. You’d told him in your first meeting that it was just you and the baby, that much he knew. And walking into your flat, it was evident that there wasn’t a trace of a man living here with you. But to hear this, to know that you were alone as you gave birth, the fucker who’d had the downright honour of putting a baby into you nowhere to be found, has Simon’s blood boiling. He’s seeing red, but he steels himself with a deep breath and files that information away for another time.

“Rose is perfect. Just like she is.” He says without hesitation, watching the far off look in your eye as you told your story change instantly into one of pride, your eyes meeting his again with gratitude brewing behind them.

“Thank you.” You whisper, a timid hand slowly reaching to rest on his forearm for a moment, the small gesture having Simon’s heart beat so rapidly he’s worried you’ll be able to hear it. “Anyways uh- you said she wants to meet us?”

“Right, just details she needs to iron out, nothin’ for you to worry ‘bout. The spot’s yours love, I made sure of it.” He affirms, knowing that he’ll be replaying this moment in his mind constantly as he shows up early to work in the mornings and leaves entirely too late at night in order to finish the job he’s promised would be completed early, all for you. “I think it’d be best if I went you girls, to the meeting. Don’t think anyone would give you a hard time but, just want to be there to be sure.” He also wants to be there to filter any questions that might arise about your relationship to one another, keep the thread from being pulled

“Oh, of course, okay.” You say, pulling your hand back as you go to reach for you phone, pulling up your calendar. “Do you know when she was hoping to meet? We’ve got an appointment with the paediatrician on Wednesday morning, but if she gives us enough time we could be on the tube and there by-”

“You’ve been takin’ the tube with her?” Simon cuts you off, more abruptly than he meant to, but the image of you and your baby bird stuffed into the tube with all the delinquents and criminals that frequent London’s underground instantly has the hairs on the back of his neck raising

“Well, yeah of course. Used to have a car but, selling it made more sense when- well you know.” You shrug, clearly not wanting to linger on your dwindling financial situation since bringing a baby into this world

“I’ll pick you girls up.” He declares without hesitation

“Oh, Simon you really don’t have to! Seriously, you’ve already done so much for us. I can’t ask that much of you.” You try to reason, though Simon can tell there’s not much fight behind those words, a mothers instinct to protect her baby stronger than your need to insist on independence at this moment, especially if it means not having to navigate a pram through the tube

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, love. Like I said last time, I want to, so I will.” He replies simply, because to him it really is that simple. Give him the chance to prove himself, and he’ll give you everything, anything you need

“Well, if you’re sure.” You smile softly at him, placing your phone back on the table, worries dissipating already.

“I’ll reach out to ‘er and confirm a date and time.” He tells you, pulling his own phone out this time, preparing to shoot off a text to the owner right away, though your next words have him stilling, certain that his heart is going to give out soon

“Great. Then it’s a date.”

He’ll be sure to bring you yellow roses next time

But first, he’s got an infant car seat to go buy for his truck

Next chapter

Ladies and gentleman, part 3 of Bird Watching 😇😇😇

I am having entirely too much fun writing this series, and it really does mean the world to me that you all have been so into this story as well!!! Hope part 3 lived up to your expectations! Simon’s lies surely aren’t going to catch up to him, right?

- M 🫶🏻

Tag List:

@puppydollgstar @strawberrygato @heletsmelovehim @404creep @just-lilita @desiretolive @marigold-morelli @robinfeldt98 @gojos4evrluvr @afanofbeans @br3nt-12 @sleep101 @scaleniusrm @bbygirl9 @elysianightsss @spidersuneee @mihoonz @ungodlydilf @nicolebarnes @kentuckyhobbit