🐻 | bear!simon x bunny!reader
neighbour!simon, fem!reader, explicit.
simon was not the type to enjoy moving house. as much as he were used to moving away for long times from long deployments, simon hated it. he hated how moving required picking up what life he'd established, even if it were small. he didn't understand how people could pack their lives up and ship across the country just like that. and plus, being deployed was different. a home was somewhere he could stay in peace, away from the gunfire.
but even he, too, needed a move here and there. wasn't really a must, but he wanted to downsize—he needed something a little smaller than what he had. it's not like he spent all his time there anyways—he was usually on base, and taking care of a bigger apartment was asking too much.
so he packed up, moved a few blocks away, holed up in a little apartment building. the day he moved in, carrying just a few boxes (he didn't have much to begin with), he couldn't help but notice the person right beside his door.
cute. you were wide-eyed and cute. stared at him across the hallway before sheepishly asking him if he minded moving out of your way so you could get to your apartment. lo and behold, you opened the door beside his and slipped in.
simon didn't give it much thought, to be honest. didn't really care how cute you were. he wasn't the type to want anyone, let alone a sweet little bunny. he doubted you could defend yourself if you joined a fistfight with a gun—he needed someone who could protect themselves while he was gone on long deployments.
but you thought differently. walked past his apartment extra times a day, hoping you'd catch him on the way out so you could get a better look at his biceps, or the scar on his cheek, dragging down to his lip. the bear was handsome as hell.
you lengthened your grocery lists, made sure the bags were a tiny bit too heavy, just in case you might see him in the parking lot and ask him for help.
you knocked on his door in the afternoon, shyly looking up at him with those big doe eyes, biting your lip and asking him, "um, sir, do you mind helping? my sink is leaking... and i just don't want to... bother anyone else."
simon had been pissed, the first time he had met you. he always heard some kind of excited prattling from through the thin walls, as you excitedly rambled to a friend. you just talked, and talked, and talked—simon's ears were going to fall off, subject to your loud conversations through the walls.
so maybe, if it shut you up, he'd entertain your silly little requests.
so here he was, under your sink, on his back, his shirt under his head as he'd taken it off.
(you'd increased the AC in your room, hoping he'd take his shirt off. sneaky little thing.)
you sat on the counter, uncaring about what he was saying about your sink. he kept talking and talking about the mechanics of it so you could fix it for yourself next time, but you were hooked on the slight rasp of his voice and the way his abs flexed as he tightened your pipes.
then simon was done, and you grabbed his arm as he sat up. you didn't want him to leave, not so soon."sir? can i pay you? um... don't have much money on me to give you, but i could give you something else."
and fuck him, you were so needy. felt your hand on his arm tighten every time he moved as if to leave. simon knew he was falling straight into a trap, and if he was being honest, he's not sure he minded. he sighs, the crease between his brows deepening. "'yer alright, luv. ain't gonna ask y'for anythin'."
you pouted. like a sad, kicked bunny. pouted at him with wide eyes and flattened ears, tail twitching unhappily. "please? stay a bit, let me... um. i can make you something to eat. cookies? i make really good cookies."
simon was really good at dodging negotiation tactics. really good at surviving the harshest forms of torture. but he hadn't been trained to dodge the torture suddenly straining in his pants as he took you in, pretty pink frills on your skirt, your thighs which dissapeared under the fabric. so he stayed, sat there whilst you busied about the kitchen, whipping together some cookies.
when they were done, you presented them to him, real giddy, jumping on your heels. "here, try one."
before he could reach for one, you sat yourself in his lap, right on top of him, offering the cookie to his lips. simon grunts, his hand instinctively moving to grip your hip. "watch y'rself, luv. don' wanna start somethin' you ain't gonna finish."
shame, that you were so confident, really. maybe then you wouldn't have ended up grinding on his lap like a bitch in heat. maybe then he wouldn't have bent you right over the counter, pushing your pretty skirt up to leer at the sopping wet patch of underwear over your cunt. "mh, she's real pretty, eh, luv?"
you were so confident up until you came on his fingers. simon didn't even give you a second to think, his fingers pressing deeper, squishing against your gummy walls. "c'mere, darlin', jus' wanna have some more."
you were losing your mind, hands gripping against the table, cheek mushed to the wood, your ears barely registered the thumping of the chair's legs every time he forced his fingers back into you. then it stops, and before you can whine, the sound of his fly unzipping reaches your ears.
in one smooth stroke of his cock, the rest of your confidence dissipated. the stretch burned, like he was splitting you in half, god, he was too fucking big. "s-sir, sir, it's too big..."
"hush, take it. y'asked for this, bun," he grunts, practically folding you over, his hips forcing against yours, his hand on your jaw. his thumb rubs over the corner of your mouth, swiping up the drool that slips from your mouth.
poor thing. you shouldn't have poked the bear, but you just couldn't help it, could you? craved the way his cock filled you up so good. he was going to ruin you for everyone else.
"ah, m'gonna fill you right up," he grunts out into your ear, heavy breaths puffing against your skin.
"ah, fuck... yes, please. please, sir, want you..." you're cut off by a desperate moan as he thrusts into you heavily, his bodyweight pressing against you. the chain around his neck, dog tags, press into the skin on your back, branding against your skin, leaving a little red mark, pressing his name into you.
when he comes inside you, he huffs, rubbing your clit gently as he pulls out, softening cock resting against your thigh. "good fuckin' girl."
(you may just have to poke the bear a little bit more.)