untitled

I wrote this trying to work some kinks out (reader is very Daisy also) and it's nothing. I don't think it will ever see Tumblr/AO3 but you never know. Anyway:

"Need a ride?"

"No."

"Y'sure? Gettin' all wet."

"Fuck off Simon." It's just like him. Show up in the middle of the day just as you're getting out of work, leaning against the building with his hands in his pockets, casual like he hasn't been gone for weeks. Casual like he couldn't care less. Like he didn't leave without a word. Dusted. Ghosted. Calls and texts unanswered.

He ambles alongside you, not even breaking a sweat as you try to out-walk him. "Car is jus' around the corner."

"That's great for you." You snap, teeth sharp, pulling your hood up over your head. He sighs like he's at the end of some kind of rope, like he has any right to be exasperated. "Leave me alone." He hangs back once you reach the platform, shaking his head.

"See you tonight then." You snort, doubling up on your bravado.

"No, you won't."

That was of course, a lie.

Embarrassing, because now you're face down on your belly, legs spread open with your ass pressed against Simon's belly as he feeds you his cock.

"Fuckin' hell love." The stretch bites, and you groan into the pillow, involuntarily jerking forward until the heel of his palm presses into your spine to hold you down. "Stay still," he grunts, pushing deeper, farther, trying to burrow into your cervix, "don't wanna chase you."

"Si- ouch." You try to squirm.

"Easy." He's still got you pinned, dragging his cock in and out of your hole slowly like a strip tease. The rhythm is easier to adjust to, burn turning bright, toes curling and stomach tensing each time he fully seats himself. You could explode, already. "You've got it, there you go- that's my girl."

"Not," you twitch against his fingers on your clit, rolling, pinching, "your girl." You pant, and he chuckles.

"Sure. Not my girl." He's fucking you like he wants to punish you now, like he wants to drown out all the noise in your head, the static that tells you to kick him out. "This pussy is mine though, ain't she? Misses me when 'm gone." He presses down on your clit, fingers too large to give you a reprieve, they just drive you over the edge instead. You come easily, and he follows, collapsing afterwards, weighing you down with his big body.

What a mess.

"I want my key." His brow furrows.

"It's mine."

"No. It's my key, Simon. It's my house, and I don't want you here. I don't want you to keep showing up. It's confusing." Still, you don't fight him off when he slides closer, his nose at the back of your neck. "It's not fair." The reality is, you're all talk, even though you'll deny it until the sun goes down.

"I know," he sighs into your skin. "I know. But-" A shrill cry cuts him off, and you instantly pull away.

"I've gotta get her." He swings his feet to the floor and sheepishly rubs the back of his head.

"I can… if you want." You pause.

"You can what?" He shifts uncomfortably, but you have no desire to put him out of his misery.

"Get 'er." This is new, and you should discourage it, really. He doesn't have the right to have any place in her life, or yours. He's not a father. He's a ghost in the night, appearing and disappearing as he sees fit. This isn't something you should want, but he has a thoughtful, almost desperate expression on his face, and your heart softens.

"How about… I bring her in here and you can feed her?"

"She bein' good for you?" She sucks on the bottle greedily, eyes wide and staring up at him.

"She's great." You smile and rub her cheek. "She's perfect."

"Should be, with a mum like you." She got the short end of the stick, being saddled with the two of you for parents, but you don't say anything. Let him believe whatever he wants, it's easier. "'m gonna be home for a few weeks now." She finishes with one long slurp, and before you can reach out, he's got her up on his shoulder, burp cloth under her chin.

"Okay." What comes next is so predictable, and sad. Sad because your heart races for a split second before reality comes crashing down.

"So, I'll be around." You want to scream. "Can give you a break, help out."

"We don't need it." She grunts against him, little burb and coo, and you clench your jaw. He looks too good holding your baby. Shirtless. Her bare skin on his like it should have been the day she was born. "Your help, I mean."

Every time he comes back it's like this. He gets in your head. He makes you feel these things you shouldn't feel, makes your forget about the things he's done. Turning his back on you when you were pregnant, vanishing without a trace. He wasn't there for a single second of it, and only half the blame lays on his job.

The other half is solely on him.

"Know y'don't but jus' figured… since I'm here I'd-"

"What? Try to play dad?" You hiss in a half shout, too loud, too caustic. It disturbs her, and he glares at you, like it's somehow your fault. You pull her from his arms and stand, shaking your head. "Go, Simon. Go home or go wherever, I don't care. Just go, and stop coming back." You try to blink away your tears, uncontrollable pain starting to surface.

You close the door to her room, settling into the rocking chair to get her back to sleep, straining to hear whatever is happening on the other side of the door.

It doesn't matter what you think, or what you feel, or what you say in the end anyway. He won't still be here when you're done. He never is.