stalker!simon, who lurks in ill-lit alleyways, prowls on corners near your house. protecting you from unwanted harm that weird creeps like him would cause.
stalker!simon, who makes sure you’re safe at all times. even if that means walking behind you, at a reasonable distance, when he’s not deployed, or on base.
there were potent signs that he was always present. you could often smell the light scent of nicotine and gunpowder in the air. imbedded into your sinuses like a bad cold that never leaves.
stalker!simon, who sits in tight and uncomfortable booths when you’re out at clubs. examining everything minor detail around him, from the loud music to the eerie creeps who sat in the corners. waiting to pounce on their next victim.
which unfortunately was you.
stalker!simon, who incredulously veers forward, watching how one man decided to approach you. the leather seating beneath him was creating artificial squeaks as he shuffled impatiently.
stalker!simon, who is about to pummel his head into a brick wall until it turns to pulp when he notices your demeanour shift; an uncomfortable grimace spreading across your face like wildfire.
luckily, you fend off the man, as he was hopefully one of the nicer lads out of the group.
that didn’t mean simon didn’t follow him out of the club 10 minutes later to have a ‘chat’ about respect. but thats not the point.
stalker!simon, who follows you the whole way home. like always. but tonight could be considered for a good cause.
the neighbourhoods real life ‘superhero.’
i mean.
he was just looking out for you.
and he was loved by all of the old people. and single mothers…
stalker!simon, who gently rocks the window of your room open. the splintering wood creaking as it went all the way up to fit his large frame. thank god, you were a heavy sleeper.
stalker!simon, whose gaze rolls over your form. supple, soft skin exposed as you lay splayed out on your bed; a cool breeze set over your curtains, calmly blowing the ends further into your room.
striding over to the side of your bed. he pulled the covers over you to prevent the chill accumulating.
gently stroking a piece of hair out of your face, he twirled it around his thick, gloved fingers before letting it go.
stalker!soap, who accidentally bumps into you at a local coffee shop, brew spilling down your white shirt. welkin stained eyes contrite while he apologised profusely; smooth scottish accent carrying well.
you told him it was fine, but he insisted to buy you another one. reluctantly you accepted, and he tried to make small talk, but it was a bit awkward with how he was practically burning holes into your partially see-through button-up top. giving him a clear window to the bra you had on underneath.
it didn’t last long, thankfully, as your name was called out for a vanilla cappuccino. you said your goodbyes, and instantaneously trekked off to work.
as ominous as he was, he seemed like a nice enough guy, so the interaction didn’t plague your mind as much as it should have.
stalker!soap, who remembers your name the whole day and how nicely it rolled off of his tongue.
stalker!soap, who searches for you later that night. scrolling through every inch of social media he could find. making sure to not miss a single detail.
stalker!soap, who maps out where all of your favourite places are, favourite restaurants etc. even going as far as creating a schedule for you; knowing where you’ll most likely be according to that day and time.
stalker!soap, who accidentally ends up at the same library, and book aisle as you. picking up a specific novel by your favourite author.
stalker!soap, who acts completely clueless when you come up to him, proclaiming that you’ve seen him before; up until you mention the coffee shop incident.
creating a fake alias, he introduced himself, flashing you an unnatural grin.
obviously he would come clean, just not now… but eventually!
viking!simon, who has a scowl on his face every time he sees you. being in an arranged marriage was hard enough, but to have your husband hate you every waking moment was just the cherry on top. you thought you were good enough, coming from the daughter of another powerful village, however according to some of the other villagers you were softer and daintier than they expected.
sure you were less bulky, but you were still on the taller side! just not as tall.
all of your thoughts came to a screaming halt when your village was in the midst of getting raided. the soft pads of your feet as they hit the rough bark and coarse dirt beneath you, were the only other noise except for the howling wails in the background, luckily for you they were slowly fading away.
you knew how to fight, and you wanted to, but simon didn’t let you. as soon as he saw you swinging an axe into an enemies skull, he stripped you of your weapons, and pushed you away while yelling at you to hide in the forest.
so here you were, running in and out of the deeply defaced trees, trying your hardest to not eat shit and stack it, over something stupid like a rock.
a quick look behind you was all it took for you to be tackled to the ground. the distraction left your organs squished, lungs winded, and completely helpless on the floor, writhing under what felt like a ton of bricks.
using the remaining strength you had left, you pushed the stranger off. or tried to. as they sat up, a knife was pulled out of their waistband, presumably to stab you or slice your throat.
you never knew thanks to simon who swooped in at a second to spare, decapitating them.
the head slid off of their neck, while sticky ichor gushed over your bare stomach; the draining, lifeless face took its time rolling onto the ground.
with a helping hand simon brought you onto your feet. blood, sweat and dirt smothered his blonde hairy chest, creating a mixture that was dripping everywhere, including over fresh wounds that adorned his skin.
can you tell I love overly jealous guys? they make me weak 😵💫
linked with this post
bodyguard!soap who angrily fisted his cock to the scent of your panties, which were currently balled up in his hand; smushed into his nose. he loathed that slimy fucker who touched you today. couldn’t he tell that you were off limits? soap finally got you to himself, and he just had to stroll in?
nononononono, that’s not how it worked.
you were his, and his alone.
he would just need to make them know. one way or another.
sure he was standoffish, and practically barked instructions at you when you did something wrong when outside of the safety of your castle. but it was just for your safety because he cared about you so much.
that’s what he was there for right? to keep you safe.
even if it looked like he hated you, every single day, the mere thought of any guy doing that to you again, got him really riled up; possessiveness flowed through his veins, every single day.
call him a guard dog at this point.
fuck’n hell bonnie, the things you did to him.
if only the circumstances were different; the things he would do to you. plunging his thick cock into the sweet pussy that matched your equally sweet voice he dreamt of.
bodyguard!ghost who angrily ruts up into you, huffing and puffing like a 3 year old throwing a tantrum; leaky tip hitting that sweet spot only he can reach like there’s no tomorrow. your drooling cunt hugged him tightly as he wrapped a fistful of hair around his hand.
something in him snapped that day.
he found out today that your father, the king, was looking into suitable prospects for you to marry.
“Fuck, princess…” he groaned into your ear, “This pussy is mine. And only mine, yeah?”
“Only you, Si.” you moaned drunkenly as he beckoned you into sweet release. ruining your virgin cunt for your future husband, and any future experience for you :(
DO NOT READ MY POSTS, OR COME AFTER ME IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THE MATERIAL. I AM NOT YOUR PARENT, YOU ARE READING THEM AT YOUR OWN ACCORD. I DO NOT CONTROL WHAT YOU SEE.
COMMON THEMES:
fluff, angst, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, missionary, creampies, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, grinding, NSFW work.
(anything not listed I will write in the post 🩵)
WHAT I WILL REFUSE TO WRITE:
scat, golden showers, ageplay, underage smut, raceplay, necrophilia, feederism, fisting, vomitplay, STI/STD, self harm, suicide (death excluded), foot fetishes, ED of any kind, physical abuse, anal, period sex, rainbow kisses.
I WILL NOT TOLERATE:
racism, homophobia, xenophobia, and any form of discrimination.
stealing my work, plagiarising it, and republishing it on other platforms as your own (reposts are welcomed on Tumblr ☺️), sharing my work on other platforms.
song for the chapter: Leave Me Lonely - Ariana Grande
ex-husband?!Simon, who eventually convinces you to let him come inside to talk once he finds out that your daughter isn’t home, and is actually at her grandparents for the night.
ex-husband?!Simon, who listens to all of your concerns when you are on the couch together; holding your hand in his with devoted eyes, thinking to himself that you were as beautiful as the day he lost you, possibly even more so.
ex-husband?!Simon, who rubs his thumb up and down the back of your palm trying to soothe you as you choke up into tears.
ex-husband?!Simon, who brings you into his lap, engulfing you in a hug with his big burly arms. stroking your hair as you sobbed into his shoulder, letting all of the pain you’ve accumulated wash over you in one fell swoop.
ex-husband?!Simon, who brings your head back so you can see him after you’ve calmed down. wiping away the tears and snot on your face, before giving you a kiss on the forehead.
ex-husband?!Simon, who presses back when you suddenly kiss him, cupping both sides of your face with his calloused hands; tugging down on your lip with his teeth to force his tongue through.
ex-husband?!Simon, who ran his hands up and down your body, before landing on your hips. gently squeezing the soft, plush fat surrounding them as he brought you higher up on his lap.
ex-husband?!Simon, who lets out a string of groans as you start to rock your hips over the growing bulge beneath your thinly clothed cunt; slick and throbbing, you try to soothe the increasingly hot ache between your thighs.
ex-husband?!Simon, who hikes up the lacy hem of your nightdress, and roughly tugs aside your panties, like they shouldn’t have been there in the first place.
ex-husband?!Simon, who glides the pad of his thumb over the pearly nub on your clit, going in motions that has you writhing and begging for him to at least use one finger against your velvet walls.
ex-husband?!Simon, who eventually gives in, gliding his ring finger into your sopping cunt, watching the way your juices collected on the silver band.
ex-husband?!Simon, who pulled out his digit before you reached your impending orgasm, because according to him:
“The only thing that you’re going to be coming on is my cock. Okay, sweetheart?”
You fumbled with his belt buckle, your mind still fogged from the rejection of what you desperately craved. No needed.
He lifted his hips so you could tug down his jeans and boxers. His strained cock hit his lower abdomen, angry red tip leaking with beads of pre-cum.
With your panties still pushed to the side haphazardly, you grab ahold of Simon’s broad shoulders for stability; watching as he grabs his thick, leaky cock and align himself with your entrance.
Slowly sinking down, you fold your bottom lip into your mouth to force back a moan, teeth digging into the flesh severely. As much as you loved. Love? No. Loved, Simon, you couldn’t let him know that he still had an effect on you after all this time.
After a few moments of adjusting to his size, pussy fluttering around him to accommodate his size you started to roll your hips, gathering a rhythm that left you both short for air.
Gaining a bit more confidence, you bounce up and down on his cock. Simon’s dick hitting the gummy bundle of nerves tucked away inside you that made your toes curl; thighs trembling as your orgasm attempts to wash over you.
A deep, desperate groan echoed through your ears, “Fuck." He panted, pawing at your ass, "I've missed this pretty pussy so much. And I bet she's missed me too, yeah?"
Nodding your head feverously, you tried to focus on the euphoria you were about to experience in the horizon. Just as you were teetering on the edge, he must've felt a change; grabbing your hips, he flipped you over, denying your orgasm once more.
"You fucking asshole!" You seethed, hitting him on the chest.
"Don't." He snatched your wrists, flashing you a harsh glare. "Now you're going to behave and come on my cock when I tell you to, because I can stop all of this in a heartbeat."
In all honesty, you would’ve done anything for him. With a small nod of your head, he hoisted your legs over his shoulders, burying his throbbing cock deeper into your velvet walls; desperate with the need to come, he clenched his jaw and started his onslaught. He wasn't done with you; not yet.
Pursuing fuller strokes, he looked down at your lower abdomen, waiting to see the bump of his tip on the outside of your precious, fertile, vacant womb.
Your jaw slacked from being stuffed full of his cock. A distorted whine clawed up your throat as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
“Good girl, you’re takin’ my cock s’well.” He smirked, now looking back up at you, and driving his hips faster. Your heels dug into his shoulders, pussy clenching him like a vice.
“Please, Si.” You whispered, clinging onto his chest like you clung onto your destined euphoria.
“Please wha’?” He mocked, looking down at you condescendingly; mixing his strokes with either quick and short jabs, or long and heavy thrusts. Only because he wanted to be an asshole and make you choke on your words as you tried to answer him.
You tried to form sentences, you really did, but it only came out as incomprehensible garble.
Pulling yourself together, you forced out, “Please let me cum, Si.”
“It’s cute y’think y’had a choice.” He teased. His pelvis snapped up faster, turning the coil in your stomach faster in doing so.
"Please, Si. I-" You cut yourself by an annoyed whine; not wanting to hold on any longer, and release the overstimulation consuming your body, "-I can't anymore."
"S’okay." He mumbled, stroking a piece of hair out of your face, looking into your teary, glistening cockdrunk eyes. “Cum aroun’ my cock jus’ like that. I’ve got you.”
ex-husband?!Simon, who promises to pump your pussy full of his milky seed; fucking it inside your womb over, and over again, to ensure you’re round with all of his future kids.
please don’t be too harsh this is my first time writing smut which is why it took so long to post 😔
there is a part 2 in the vault with smut if you guys want it 🫣 (as this story is gender neutral, the daughter can be adopted or surrogated, if you wish to put it that way. but the next part will specify that the reader is afab)*
song for the chapter: intro (end of the world) - Ariana Grande
husband!Simon, who is gutted but understanding when you say you want a divorce. your relationship had taken a slow but scrutinising turn ever since you had your first kid.
the flame wasn’t there anymore, and you had gone into a depressive state due to the overwhelming pressure of having to take care of your daughter by yourself every time he got deployed to another country, then having to pray he would make it out alive.
ex-husband!Simon, who moves out in a matter of days after the talk, going to a small local motel so you had your space. you are devastated at the loss of warmth on the other side of the bed. although it wouldn’t have been any different if he stayed, as you had both been isolating yourselves for a while.
ex-husband!Simon, who comes around every weeks to check up on you and your child. making sure that everything was okay, which it wasn’t, but you had pulled yourself together to make sure you were there for her.
ex-husband!Simon, who still comes to parent-teacher interviews/conferences, resting a loving hand on your thigh as your daughter’s teacher talks about how much of an amazing student she is.
you expected nothing of it as it could’ve just been a natural instinct from him.
like how he still wore his ring………. every day…
right…………
ex-husband!Simon, who helps out in the kitchen one night, after dropping off your daughter at a sleepover; passing dishes back and forth, making sure to add lingering touches, to see if they were reciprocated, or if he should stop. and you just ignored them for the time being, not wanting to give him the time of day due to the state he left you in.
ex-husband!Simon, who is on your door step the night before the divorce is finalised.
“I’m not signing the papers.” He stated firmly.
Your brows furrowed at the sight of him on your doorstep this late at night; speechless, you just let out a scoff of surprise.
“What?” You asked him confused, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I’m not signing the papers,” He repeated, “I want to make this work.”
“You don’t get to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Waltz back into my life like it’s nothing,” You answered, “I wanted a divorce for a reason.”
“I’ll be better.” His gaze narrowed, “I’ll prioritise you and our daughter, I didn’t do a good job last time. But now, I’ll be there every step of the way, and support you.”
“I won’t leave you in the dark again. And if you’re lost, I’ll make sure to be the light.”
Your gaze softened as he grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his chest.
“Please,” He whispered, “Can we try again?”
And just like that, the walls that you had built up to make sure you didn’t get hurt again, came crashing down.
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