ᝰ.ᐟDomestic dominance headcanons I can’t stop thinking about Pt. 2
Makes you repeat his words, when you look in the mirror and don't like what you see, he'll walk up behind you, hands on your waist and say "you look beautiful, say it" and will make you repeat it louder if you mumble. "Say that again, louder."
Lifts your chin gently when you avoid his eyes. When you’re upset and not talking, he'll wait—just watching—until your gaze finally meets his.
"There's my sweet girl."
Opens your water bottle for you without being asked or just takes it from you silently when he sees you struggle and hands it back to you all without even glancing away from the tv.
Subtly flexing the difference between your hand size and his by holding your hand and looking at it intertwined with his.
Runs his thumb along your knuckles, just to remind you.
"So small. No wonder you need me."
Controls the grocery list. You try adding junk food, but it mysteriously disappears.
"I said real food. You’ll eat properly or I’ll feed you myself."
If you pick up a bag of snacks and add it to the cart he will add two more of the same ones behind your back.
Texts you instructions like it’s a checklist.
"Take your meds."
"Eat something green."
"Stretch your back."
"Send me a selfie so I know you’re alive."
Makes you sit on the counter while he cooks.
One hand on your thigh the whole time so you stay there.
"I don’t want you wandering off. Stay where I can see you." Steps between your legs to feed you a bite of whatever he's cooking, making sure it's up to your standards. "Good?".
Let's you yell at him all you want while you're upset, he will just silently walk up to you and wipe your tears with his thumb "go on love, I'm listening".
Has a "look" he gives you when you're being bratty.
No yelling. No scolding. Just the kind of stare that stops you mid-word.
"Try that again and we'll see how far you get, sweetheart."
Always feeds you the first bite off his plate, makes sure it's got a little bit of everything off his plate and holds it up to your lips "open up".
Never lets you pay for anything, if you even try to pull out your wallet after dinner, he'll lean back and cross his arms "I'll let you try again" And will stay there till you put your wallet back and he pulls out his card.
You get mouthy, and he just smirks.
"Big words for someone who cried because I told her no snacks before dinner."
Tucks the blanket around you snugly every night and kisses your temple before sleeping and always says "i love you". Always. before he falls asleep.
ᝰ.ᐟSoft Dominant things they do that just make you melt.
⋆.✏ ̊Based on an anonymous ask i had gotten previously about a reader who only responds to soft and gentle commands. (sorry i probably lost the orginal question)
He always phrases his words in a way that isn't demanding, never a "eat lunch" always a "let's eat lunch, yeah?".
Knows when your spine goes rigid and your speech stutters when someone around you is demanding and you refuse to function or act accordingly.
Your stubbornness doesn't anger him. He knows why it happens.
Instead of snapping, he simply gives a patient, steady look.
"Talk to me. Don't hide from me".
Lowers your walls and grounds you with slow breathing, warm hands, and quiet words—"I'm right here,".
someone talks to you sharply, he steps between you and them—not aggressively, but with a quiet force that shuts the other person up. Then he turns to you, voice always soft and grounding.
“You alright, sweetheart?”
When you’re overwhelmed, he tilts your chin up with two fingers to check in on you, to make sure you're okay.
"Too much?" he asks softly.
Never forces you to hurry up, let's you take your own pace with things. Gives you a task and walks away expecting and knowing you'd finish it at your own pace.
Always praises you and rewards you when you're done.
A head pat followed by, "good job, love" and a forehead kiss.
And when you feel patronized and babied, when you refuse to do something and accuse him of treating and talking to you like a child.
He simply shrugs, shoulders relaxed and says “I’m not," brushes your hair behind your ear. "I'm talking to you like someone who matters to me."
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
Idk if this deserves to be a 1k special (〒﹏〒) but I just finished my exams and I needed to post this.
My friend found my Tumblr so say heyy everyone (つ✧ω✧)つ
i need a fanfic of yuta as an older man, the head of the gojo clan, more mature and serious, full of responsibilities. when he arrives home, still serious, he finds the reader putting their children to bed, and he relaxes a little seeing the family he built and deserves <3
𝓨𝒖𝒕𝒂 was obsessed with you. not in the way you'd expect. not in the demanding, or the aggressive or even the outwardly possessive way. it was persistent. dedicated. and worst of all?
loving.
he never quite got over you after the breakup. a year after the shinjuku showdown. you said he changed. he insisted he grew.
“i miss my sweet boy,” you'd said.
“aren't I sweet?” he still smiled like it.
you shook your head. turned away. told him there was something else in his smile. something shifted. an innocence you mourned.
he never quite let you grieve his absence, though. your coffee would be on your desk in the morning. your favourite flowers delivered every other week. you'd find him on your doorstep with takeout and a smile. find him in your apartment cooking, cleaning, making your bed, making things easier for you.
“what're you doing here?” you confronted him. got up in his face. looked at him like he was an irritable nightmare.
and yuta? he just smiled. never a threat. never a warning. looking at you like you were the sweetest dream.
“we're friends, aren't we?” he tilted his head. “that's what you said we were.”
“yeah well—”
“friends take care of each other, don't they?” his head tilted. that flicker of innocence that you lost shimmered in his eyes. ached your heart. flared your mind. because he knew what he was doing.
this wasn't first, nor second year. okkotsu yuta knew how to get under your skin, and he did so with the same smile that stuttered your chest.
he was insistent. promising he'd wait for you. assuring that you just needed time. but then another year went by, then another, and another— and before you knew it? he was twenty three and still delivering your favourite flowers.
it was overwhelming. he claimed love should feel like that. said love should be something that you chased for.
what scared you the most? the way his cursed energy crackled whenever he said it. like it really was his curse onto you.
“you can't chase me forever, okkotsu.” you'd hissed, as he stood in your kitchen. using your ingredients. cooking you dinner.
he didn't even look up. “that's what you think.”
then he turned to you with a spoonful of soup and the flat of his hand brushing beneath your chin to raise it. just slightly. delicately.
he smiled. “now. . . say ah.”
he frustrated you. with his kind smile. with his shifted outlook on life. with the maturity he'd developed when you just weren't looking.
finding someone else was impossible.
going back to him felt like a sentence.
so when you'd snapped, who could blame you?
when you snatched his sword from his very sheath and swiped it through the air. bladed it to his throat. a threat, a shaky promise. with your trembling hands and your snarling lips.
he didn't flinch.
and that's what frustrated you more.
a special grade sorcerer like himself, what could you possibly do?
you saw it in his eyes. he asked the question without even uttering a word. a calm confidence that eased from him in the arch of his brow and the unfaltering look on his face.
he was sure of himself. and even worse: unafraid of death.
truly, not your sweet boy anymore.
no sweetness in the way he stepped closer. no sweetness in his shadow that loomed over you. in the paleness of his neck that pushed closer to his blade.
“you want to kill me?” he asked. drawled, simple. as if asking about the weather, and not his life that was held in hands he clearly still wanted to kiss.
his hand shifted. long fingers curling around the blade. tight. unflinching. he yanked it closer. shoved his neck further. till the steel bit into his skin. into his fingers.
and even while you shook. while you gaped and hesitance faltered your grip— he stood there.
staring into your eyes. into your very soul.
he spoke clear. crystal. calm.
“do it properly, then.”
his face pressed further. digging deeper into the blade if it only meant to be closer to you.
not a blink. not a breath.
just brutal. bloody. devotion.
“kill me,” he breathed. cold lips brushing yours. his own blood dripping from his fingers. “just make sure to curse me a little.”
I love Leon x Reader fanfics with a big age difference, but I find it annoying when people write the female reader as hyper-feminine or too childish, like only liking pink and girly things or treating Leon like a father :/
Hii! i didn't know if you were taking requests or not.. but I would like to see a prompt based on this tiktok I saw saying "god forbid someone is shamelessly kinky" with nagumo LMAO I think he would be into exhibitionism!
wait this is acc peak. cw exhibitionism (he cracks you outside yes), creampie and size kink with gn!reader
sometimes your hangouts with nagumo would either be borderline deadly or fun to some extent. he's the cheerful type sure but insanely unpredictable. you never really know what he's thinking about most of the time.
like right now for instance, he's got you spread open against the hood of his car, sleek black metal pressed firm against your cheek. you jolt when you feel the breeze of his breath blow over your exposed hole, his fingers softly holding the skin of your cheeks apart to examine you as if you're about to be dissected.
"eh—, sorry! that was a very forward reaction (name)-chan~" he teases literally below your spread legs, making sure he's squatted down properly to entertain said hole.
that irritating playful voice is the only thing you can hear in this supposedly "empty parking lot", or so he says. "say.. (name)," he presses a wet finger into your puckered hole, teasing the entrance a bit to elicit a whine out of you, and a whine he got.
"you think if someone were to see you real vulnerable like this, you'd feel embarrassed?" a flick of his tongue touches the inside of your opening and gradually licks the outer and inner rim. he does this for three good minutes and when your legs shuddered, he made sure to hold you still.
after he deems your hole well lubricated with his saliva he kisses the skin just above your tailbone and stands up to his full height, caressing your bum so softly that you almost forgot you're spread open in a public parking lot.
"since i'm so nice, i'll let you choose how you'll come, 'kay?" he murmurs into your ear, teasingly blowing air there too.
his hand splays delicately over the small of your back, fingers flexing properly to feel your heat and pulse beneath. he feels oddly.. powerful.
your whimpers don't go unheard by him, he guesses it's because the car's hood isn't the best place to rest your face on and since he's such a nice guy, he lifts you off the cold steel and holds your body close to his chest.
"now then, there are two choices." he brings two fingers in front of your face. he could easily see how much you've been trying hard not to shake. that's alright though, he's got you.
"first. by my fingers of course!" he wiggles the long digits teasingly, the clear slick of his saliva and your arousal mixed together and you rub your thighs at the sight. even the tattoos on his fingers seemed to pop even more under the lights.
your arousal goes obviously noticed by nagumo's eyes (perks of being an assassin) and he presses his firm hard-on over your naked butt. how is that possible..? he's already so big under there, even with his pants and underwear separating his dick from your hole.
"second~ my very obvious and painful bonerrr..." he whines against your ear, smothering your exposed neck with kisses and small bites.
he feels absolutely suffocated with his pants on right now, but he's patient. he is.
"so? what'll it be hm?" he grips your waist and then slides down to the round curves of your ass, takes a handful of the soft flesh as he pulls you impossibly close.
with aching need you arch your back into his chest, pressing your ass into his hard stiff- the only thing really obscuring him from ruining you is his pants.
"i can't wait anymore," you fret, squirming with anticipation and heightened need for him.
"yeah? then which is it?" he asks once more, he's patient. he's patientpatientpatient. he likes seeing you like this. no, he fucking loves it.
you grit your teeth knowing that he wants to hear you beg, as if the situation wasn't embarrassing and humiliating enough!
"please just fuck me hard with your cock already!" you scream and it bounces off the empty walls of the lot.
he's taken aback for sure. "uwa (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)~, since you asked with so much energy!" his fingers are inside you once more spreading it wide open, "have to make sure i'll fit pretty." two of his annoyingly long fingers scissor their way into your rectum slowly.
"a-ah.. hah.." you were being loosened as the seconds ticked by and had to steady yourself on the car. he releases his fingers when he felt you nearing orgasm and replaced the warmth with his tip.
"i'll be gentle." he coos into your ear, steeling himself over your back and thrusted his heavy cock into you.
the sheer height of his length stirred something within the base of your belly. he's so unbelievably big, you couldn't help the tears that escape your eyes.
"na..hah..gumo.. m-mgh", shuddering when he thrusts slow in and out of your entrance. your gummy walls seemed to follow the movement of his cock whenever he would particularly hit the deepest spot up your ass.
"yoichi. did you already forget~?" he clarifies with a quirk of his lip before tightening his hold around your waist and snaps his hips forward again and again until you can feel him in your stomach.
"w-wait! wa..wait...ngh gumooo.." you hold his hand desperately trying to pull yourself together but fuck if you were lying his dick feels amazing.
"yoi~" thrust "chi~" another hard thrust accompanied by another and another and this time you couldn't help but cum hard. white hot pleasure blurred your vision as you lay there limp before you feel his his hips still momentarily.
"awh seriously? coming before me, that's soo unfair." he playfully smacks your ass as a mini punishment and you jolt in sensitivity, more cum dribbling out of your little slit.
nagumo watches your fluids dribble past your heat and down your thigh, some of it dripping on the asphalt below.
"so dirty.." he scoops the remains off your skin and rubs it over his length before shoving himself inside your hole once again, smothering you in that overwhelming heat.
"fu-fuck!" you curse loud when he bites the juncton between your shoulder and neck, teeth indents visible as he ruts like an animal into your velvet heat.
"feels good," he murmurs but then hissed when he felt you clamp down on him, "you're going to rip it off of me at this point." he muses lightly, focusing hard to make you come again but this time together.
the strength of his arms around you made you shiver with intense pleasure. you can feel him spasm inside you with something desperate and final. he presses deep with a strangled groan, the fill of his cum warm and thick oozes into you, stuffing you with his load.
"mh.." he doesn't move away and keeps his cock steady, not pulling out.
his fingers linger over the rim and more cum leaks out, he pushes a finger into your stretched out hole to pump it back in, "i was worried it wouldn't go in.. guess it worked out huh?" you can feel him smiling. annoying!
"nagumo pull your shit dick out of my ass now." you wiggle forward but he only pushes himself back in, his fingers tracing lines up your back.
"you oughta be ready for round two 'kay?" he pats your bum and you whine, "..okay?" he cups a hand over his ear, "yes?"
"okay! now fuck off! b-before someone sees!" you shriek trying to move away from his dumb dick.
he hums thoughtfully, "oh yeahh, we're in public! haha! (^▽^)"
"little shit-" you reach a foot to kick his thigh but all he does is laugh, much to your frustration. yeah.. you're not lasting for round two.
synopsis. you’ve saved up for the perfect escape — a quiet cabin in the woods, far from the noise of your everyday life. But the land came with something else, its owner. He’s older, sharp-eyed, and far too invested in what you do, where you go, and who you talk to. The longer you stay, the less his interest appears to be neighborly concern. Out here, there’s nowhere to run… and he seems intent on making sure of it.
you didn’t know what you were doing out here—the reality of your choices settling in the longer you stood. the weight of discomfort creeping into your body as you shifted from one leg to the other. the cabin itself was not problematic, it was you, who had suddenly developed cold feet at the absolute last minute.
a moment of no return, you digested.
the cabin stood tall, its brown exterior being obviously well-kept. just as advertised on the rental website. so once again as you stood before it, it wasn’t the cabins fault you were nervous and feeling ill-equipped to actually enjoy your week long stay here. after all, it was your idea. you’d spent hours and days scouring the internet for a cabin like this one—secluded and located in a forest.
at the time, you thought you wouldn’t be afraid. convincing yourself that you had grown beyond those childish fears of hearing a creak outside the bedroom door or mistaking a coat rack for a man.
but as your hand anxiously curled around your luggage, you recognize now that you weren’t that far removed from them after all. it was the eerie morning fog surrounding the cabin that unnerved you. along with the reality that there were no neighboring homes for miles. the only exception being a two-story house that looks to be in similar condition being a half mile walk away from where you’ll be staying.
a black pickup truck parked outside of it, letting you know that it’s occupied currently.
it didn’t help that you had spent a considerable amount of your savings on this rental, telling yourself at the time, that life was just too short to not enjoy it. you’d never traveled anywhere completely by yourself prior to this as well. so you were looking forward to experiencing this as a first.
but something, just kept your feet planted firmly in place before the cabins wooden steps.
unable to work up the nerve to ascend them and open the door you previously were ecstatic to approach. it was a feeling maybe, just a heavy cloud of tension and impending doom that sat on your shoulders like weights. you couldn’t see what the cause of it was, but god could you feel it.
taking a deep breath, you placed one foot infront of the other and climbed the short assembly of stairs to the front porch.
everything about the exterior of the property was squeaky clean. no creakiness to the floorboard or stairs, illuminating to you that they’ve been reinforced. a shine to the wood beneath you reflecting how meticulously it is cleaned after each guest. using the same key you found underneath the mat—as instructed via text from the owner—you pushed the key in the lock and turned open the door.
letting the door fall wide open, your eyes shifted from left to right cautiously. lips slightly agape as you surveilled the walkway before you, from what you could see, the interior was well done also.
you released a breath you didn’t acknowledge you were still holding as you raised one foot and moved it forward to enter the cabin.
stepping inside, you quickly pulled your luggage in behind you and swung the heavy front door shut. double locking it with all of what’s available, and pausing a moment before moving away to ensure that you really did lock it. ‘phew’ you huffed lowly as you went ahead to look around the cabin, peaking into every room and closet as you moved.
you kept this search up until you were satisfied with what you’d seen—nothing. everything was in place, there was no monsters in the closet or any other incriminating material hidden within the walls. all entrance doors were locked and so were the first floor windows. placing your hands on your hips, you twirled around in a circle to take a final gaze at the kitchen and living room. it had the rustic style you were looking for. the yellow beaming lights giving the place a homey and comfortable energy to it.
your blood pressure and adrenaline levels began to lower once you recognized that there was no threat. finally allowing your parasympathetic system to kick in.
now, you could finally relax and enjoy the vacation you paid for. you walked towards the bedroom of the cabin, heading towards the shower to turn on the warm water—just in case it needed to heat up. heading back out to the foyer to open your luggage and take some clean clothes out to relax in.
assembling all your items into your arms, you carried them back to the bathroom and began to undress. going ahead to take a long steamy shower after the tumultuous drive here. the roads were so hilly as you drove, the engine of your car squealing in annoyance numerous times along the drive uphill and sharp descent downhill.
but it was all worth it now as you got to wash your skin in the beautifully crafted bathroom. the only qualm being with the large frosted window that was centered on the wall.
despite it being covered with frosted glass to ensure privacy, you just couldn’t imagine taking a shower in here at night. your mind already imagining all of the possible scenarios that could be facilitated by the windows placement. you didn’t want to do anything that could possibly draw the wrong attention, especially whilst you were out in the forest for the next week alone.
once finished with your shower and dressed, you padded towards the kitchen. deciding to search for something to eat. opening the fridge doors, your eyes noticed the sealed and fresh ingredients that the owner must’ve left for guests. these ingredients and the groceries you brought along were showing signs of a great vacation ahead. for now you settled for a snack, taking it with you to the living room couch as you went to scroll on your phone.
some hours past, the day shifting into the evening hours as night seemed to come earlier in the forest. you sat in the same place with a throw blanket over yourself.
the only sound being the soft hum of the fridge and the light whirling of the ceilings fans. you were enjoying the peace, it was a significant difference from what you were used to at home. in your little apartment you could hear sounds of cars driving by at all hours of the night. the laughter of your neighbors and the sound of your morning alarm letting you know it was time to get up—you weren’t missing any of that at the moment.
your body was lax on the couch as you continued scrolling mindlessly. suddenly, you tensed at the sound of heavy knocking on the front door.
paralysis consumed you as your mind traveled to many different places in milliseconds. you couldn’t decipher if you should stay in place and pretend you hadn’t heard anything or attempt to tiptoe towards the door and look out the peephole. opting for the less courage-requiring option, you choose the prior.
turning off your phone, you stay in complete stillness as you even breathed softer and took shallow breaths until the moment passed.
“know yer’ in there”, you heard a heavy and gravely sounding voice shout through the door. even with that, you still did not feel inclined to get up at that less than inviting statement. you remained still and waited once more. hoping that the stranger would just go away.
you could hear another heavy knock on the door and then the sound of the doorknob moving. at this point, your heart began racing as you leapt up from the couch. standing still in place as you waited to hear if he would open the door next and accost you.
“m’ the owner of the cabin, simon riley” you heard the man say behind the front door. pausing his movement of the doorknob.
‘simon riley’, you thought. the name sounded familiar as you recalled the name of the cabins host on the rental website. but either way, it was still unnerving as you thought of why he would be attempting to talk to you at all.
“just want t’ talk to ya, give ya some tips”, he added in a bored tone as if he just wanted to get it over with as he likely grew tired of you pretending not to hear him.
slowly, you crept towards the front door and looked through the peephole at the man on the other side of it. he looked rough—for all intents and purposes. a large nose with a crooked nose bridge that suggested it being broke before. bland pale eyes and long blond eyelashes that extended out from above them. pale pink lips and buzzed blond hair included. the most aching part of his features being the scars, he had so many strewn across his face that revealed some type of fighting that he must do often,
his eyes dropped to the peephole, staring into it blankly as if he knew you were there looking at him through it. you felt embarrassed a bit as you pulled away from it, deciding to just open the door and face him head on.
“sorry, i was busy”, you lie immediately before you raise your head up to look him in the eye. the peephole hadn’t revealed to you that he was this tall and bulky.
his body being covered in heavy layers of muscle mass and fat that it made him fill every crevice of his clothes wholly.
his eyes drink you in gluttonously, his eyebrows raising a bit as if he wasn’t expecting someone like you. you felt his weighty gaze flow from your toes to the top of your head as you stood before him. “mm”, he hums unenthusiastically at your lie, obviously not believing it. one of his eyes twitched, just a small glitch in his expression as he looked at you. staring back at him, you couldn’t get a good guess of what he was thinking. just that he had taken a very thorough look at you and said nothing at all about it.
“right, well m’ just gonna warn ya about the bears”, he grunts out while taking another slow glance at you. clearly not trying to restrain his curiosity.
“bears?” you repeated before shifting your weight.
“yea, they come roun’ the property daily. try t’ get in and go through the trash” he relayed blankly as your face wretched into an expression of worry. you didn’t like the sound of that, bears trying to get in at night sounded like a horror film.
“don’ worry bout em, just keep the doors n’ windows locked” he looks you in the eyes before waiting for your nod of agreement.
“one more thing, don’ want y’ out by yer self at night out here. woods are dangerous” he warns you before folding his arms over his chest. your eyebrows tense at that information. what was making the woods so dangerous?
“why, is it dangerous?” you inquire, your head tilting to the side softly.
simon’s eyes follow your head’s soft tilt, looking at you with a slight smirk. “don’ worry about it”, he replied cryptically. you’re eyes squinted unappreciatively at simon’s response. his lips deepened further into an amused smirk at your obvious dismay. clearly taking pleasure in placating your inquisitive nature.
“stayin’ ere’ by yer self?”, he asked although it was phrased more as a statement. an observation even. you didn’t want to approve his assessment, but at the same time it would be hard for you to lie considering you were alone.
only you and your belongings being present. “yea, just a little getaway” you affirm almost shyly. you could imagine how common it would be for a young woman to just go ahead and book a getaway in a cabin in the woods all alone. it was kind of a vulnerable position.
“don’ feel bad, doin’ the right thing. learning how t’ take care of yer self ain’t ever bad” he says encouragingly which boosted your confidence a bit in a way you didn’t know you needed. taking a vote of confidence from a stranger to heart wasn’t something you should do, but the way that he sounded almost proud of your bravery was motivating. you don’t really have many people that try to encourage you like this, much less at all.
“thank you” you reply while leaning against the doorframe a bit.
simon’s eyes lowered to appreciate the curve of your frame a bit with a heavy gaze at your hips and thighs. “hm, no boyfriend then?” he states gruffly, not allowing you time to even answer before answering his own question.
“couldn’t ave’, wouldn’t let ya out on yer own if ya did” he muttered with a smug expression. taking his time to turn and descend from the porch steps. you stood in awkwardness as you watched him walk off. noticing that he hadn’t driven the pickup truck you are now assuming is his at the other property half a mile to the left. watching him silently, you watched as his large frame disappeared into the surrounding woods toward whatever place he was heading to.
when he was finally gone, you stepped backward into the cabin and moved to lock the front door. you padded through every room to close all of the curtains and ensure the windows were still locked.
as you did so, you found yourself thinking about simon and how phlegmatic he appeared to be—presenting as a dispassionate yet intriguing figure concurrently. the scars that riddled his face and his hands, from what you could see, signaled a life of fighting. you couldn’t figure out what career he could have that allows him to live so far removed from society yet includes fighting of the magnitude evidenced.
once you were done, you decided to pad towards the bedroom and go to sleep. once lying in the soft bed, your mind still routed back to the owner.
the way he simply waltzed into the woods like he’s done it a million times after assuring himself that you couldn’t have a boyfriend. he was right, and given that you’re staying in a cabin alone, it was obvious. sighing heavily, you lied on your side, pulling the warm comforter up to your neck as you tried to calm your mind and assume a state of sleep.
as the pink and purple hues of sunrise pierce the tall surrounding trees of the area, simon had been long awake. never being one to sleep deeply or to the usual extent of normal people, he was up and moving. moving exactly outside of the bedroom window where you slept peacefully.
it was wrong, he knew that. in a way it could be seen as taking advantage of an unsuspecting woman.
he just couldn’t bring himself to care. after speaking with you yesterday, simon could not shake the thought and image of you out of his consciousness—not that he wanted to anyways. the curves of your stature and tone of voice that he found incredibly nectarean in nature. for a living, simon completed jobs of a similar nature, stalking and carefully curating scenarios that benefit his team. benefit himself as well in this case.
as he stood behind the window, he simply watched the way your chest fell and rose. the generally barren part of his heart coming alive to only exacerbate the effects of this longing.
and it’s been—too long since he’s had a woman, a partner, an anything.
being on deployment constantly was never an attractive factor when it came to securing relationships through the many years he’s been alive. beyond his job, simon knew that it was just him. he was the problem, never being attractive enough to the opposite gender to go beyond a drunken fuck.
no one being interested enough in him to even entertain the thought of dating him, loving him, or cherishing him. he assumed it was the off-putting features of his face that often disqualified him. the scars, the brooding gaze, and overall discomfort he noticed that he causes in women. it’s been a lonely existence, one that he’s become adapted to.
opting to just purchase this large plot of land in the woods as a kind of ‘f you’ to the universe.
showing that he’s accepted his lot in life, no matter how empty and miserable it was. when he bought the land, it had come with both cabins half a mile apart. the land being expansive with wonderful scenery but just unkempt. dilapidated cabins, broken concrete, overgrown shrubbery, and interiors that needed gutting. so, simon took on the job.
took him less than a year to finish both cabins, choosing to live in the one to the right and leave the one you are now sleeping in, empty.
putting the cabin on a rental website was not his idea at all. at first when he told the boys about how he fixed up the cabins and gaz suggested renting it—simon’s ears went hot with irritation. why would he want to rent his property to a stranger? especially when all he wants in life is to be left alone to die in peace.
soap hurriedly interjected before the rise of an argument to say that it would be a short-term rental, not long term. just a few couples who would want to stay for a weekend here and there. and it would be a good way to bring in some extra money, not that simon needed it, but it would keep the place occupied sometimes. simon considered the idea for months before finally coming back around to the duo to ask about posting it.
that was the history of how this came to be, but as he stood and watched you sleep comfortably in the guest bed, his bed. the one he made with his bare hands, blood, sweat, and tears from chopping wood. nailing it together and hand-carving it to show his craftsmanship.
he wanted you.
he had decided it now, not needing much time to decipher. plans wracking his brain almost painfully during the previous night. so many options to attain you; kidnapping, accosting, manipulation, dating. simon had decided that he wanted you to desire him as well, knowing that he would have to take control of the matter to curate the circumstances necessary.
he’d been alone for so long, and now that you stumbled into his life. he wanted nothing short of to keep you. make you his, no matter how wrong that instinct was.
it just was.
and simon was never good at resisting his urges.
you shift in the bed, your arms raising above your head in a movement of stretching. it was the second morning of your stay, and you had hope to make the most of it. ideas already whirling around in your mind as you came to true consciousness. you could go for a walk through the woods and head towards the lake pictured on the website, and even order take out for breakfast.
your hand slid up to your chest as you felt a weighty discomfort, similar to the one you felt previously when you first arrived to the cabin yesterday.
it was as if someone’s watching you, or something was about to happen. you couldn’t decipher which one it was, but you couldn’t shake that feeling of doom. the feeling of being preyed upon if you make a misstep. your eyes surveilled the bedroom around you hurriedly as you hyperventilated. once again not seeing anything incriminating or any proof of what your psyche kept pestering you about.
you even got out of bed, slipped two fingers behind the curtains to peek through them, and you saw absolutely nothing. just the gorgeous sunrise on the horizon.
god, you were going insane out here.
maybe you just needed to go ahead with the idea you had in mind for your morning. walking away from the window, you grab your phone on the nightstand and go ahead to order some breakfast from a diner nearby, basically only a couple miles away. you called them and placed your order, asking for delivery and giving them the address of your cabin.
the elderly lady on the phone paused momentarily once she heard the delivery address, her previously chirpy voice going wobbly, “honey, you’re staying at the riley cabin?” she inquired.
“yes, i am—why?” you asked in confusion.
“oh—well just be vigilant out there hun, i’ve heard bad things about that Riley” she warns in a grim tone. not allowing you anytime to ask just what things she had heard because she suddenly started rushing you, saying something about it being busy at the diner at this time of day. and that you can expect the delivery to arrive between an hour to two hours, then she hung up.
you placed your phone back on the bedside table slowly, digesting the minuscule information you managed to receive inadvertently. the lady didn’t give you much to go on at all. shaking it off, you knew that you just didn’t want your savings to go to waste by leaving here early.
it was only day two, and you had a handful of days left. so you just chose to make the most of it.
heading into the hallway, you went towards your luggage that was still left near the front door since yesterday. opening it up, you chose some comfortable clothes to go for a walk in, deciding to take a walk in the woods until you find that small waterfall and river you saw online. you went back for your phone, changed, and afterwards slipped on some sneakers before heading out the front door and ensuring to lock it behind you.
there was a mixture of warmth and cool breezes swirling in the air at this time. the warm sun rays cascading down your back as you felt the simultaneous cool breezes swaying past you as you traversed the woods.
you didn’t get that bad feeling when you were out here atleast as you stepped over some fallen log. continuing your journey to the waterfall as you headed forward. leaves crunching beneath your feet as rabbits hopped by and birds sang on tree branches. it was a utopia in these woods as you glanced around you.
further into the walk, you finally began to hear the sound of water splashing and falling as you looked through the treeline. the waterfall was absolutely stunning, the sparkling blue water reflected the sun rays as it fell continuously into the river below it. the river water was see through as well as you noticed some smaller fish swimming about in blissfulness. you were enraptured by the view until you saw a glint of sunlight being reflected at your eye from an angle.
your head spun to the right in surprise when you noticed the owner, simon, emerging from behind the waterfall. you hadn’t noticed he was underneath the water fall at all until now.
but there he stood, all 6 ft something inches of him, naked. his hands traveled over his face quickly as he worked to move the water from his eyes. but your eyes weren’t focused on his face for long, you felt yourself pause mentally when your eyes drifted lower to his cock. it hung heavy and thick between his legs with his large balls behind them.
your mind quickly assuming the number eight when you wondered how long it was. the girth of it was impressive as well as his untrimmed blond hairs clung wet to the base of it. the tip an angry shade of red as it faced downward between his legs. and you simply could not shift your eyes, the way the waterfall was still cascading water down his back as he stood as naked as the day he was born. one of his muscular arms being absolutely covered in tattoos depicting images of war, guns, fire, and knives. you would’ve never guessed prior that simon was that heavily tattooed because yesterday all you saw were his face and hands.
“enjoyin’ the show, eh?” he grumbled as a thick arm slid down to grip the base of his cock. the weighty muscle of it twitching at his touch. your mouth fell open in embarrassment,
“i-i’m sorry, didn’t mean to—i just wanted to see the waterfall” you stumble out as you noticed the way simon softly works his cock. the flesh growing hard as you couldn’t move your eyes from his ministrations. you watched it grow thicker as his blood rushed to it in excitement, his cock moving to stand upwards towards his belly button.
“s’alright, know you didn’t mean to” he grunts out as he watches you stand in a state of complete paralysis.
a small smirk traveling to his lips which exposes his dimples. simon felt satisfied that phase one of his plan was in motion. you had gotten a good view of what you were working with, and that was the true reason why simon rushed from your window to the waterfall here. undressing in record time as if his life was on the line and hurrying into the waterfall. he wanted you to see this, needed you too, in fact.
and you, you felt hints of humiliation but not enough to move your gaze. you had never seen any one like this in person before, the swollen tip of him just tapping on his lower stomach as he moved—
moved toward you, which you weren’t registering because you simply couldn’t raise your eyes. “better stop yer starin’, don’t wanna start something’ ya can’t andle” simon warned you playfully. a warm wet hand gripping your chin to tilt your head upwards to make eye contact.
“sorry, i’m sorry” you repeated in a frenzy.
you didn’t mean to stare, it’s just—mesmerizing. “mm” simon grunts like he had done once before the previous day. you realize that he seems to like communicating that way specifically for some reason. like the noise communicates just enough. you held his smothering gaze with softer eyes. not really knowing what to say or do, this was all just… different.
“c’mon, ll’ take ya back t’ the cabin” simon speaks after long moments of silence. moments of just holding eachother gaze, not knowing what to say or do next. you nod in response, not really wanting to stay any longer after you dirtily stared at the owners private area for minutes unrelentingly.
simon turns around, your eyes move to rack over his back. you noticed a plethora of scars at his back as well. many of them raised, bruised over, and stitches included. but your eyes also devoured the gorgeous movement of his back muscles, the way they became more pronounced as he walks forward. your eyes drifting just alittle lower to appreciate his bottom, it looked good too—
“oi, need t’ change my clothes” simon remarks with a soft huff of amusement.
you paused in your steps immediately, you hadn’t noticed that you’d begun following him either. your mind just moving on autopilot once he said he would lead you back to the cabin. “sorry” you repeat for the nth time. something about being around simon just made you anxious and uncoordinated. not even thinking through your actions, just doing. and it was making you weary.
he didn’t answer, just walking off into the treeline to where you assume his clothes are. your eyes appreciated his form as he walked away as well. you never knew yourself to act like this, but then again you’d never been in such a situation before either.
you waited patiently for simon to redress, your mind still showing the mental image of his cock just tapping his lower stomach, he was so excited. just from you staring, you acknowledged. and you didn’t know what to do with that information, you still had a few more days left in the cabin, and you have now seen the land owner erected and naked by the second morning. you stood as you stared blankly in the direction simon had gone in. after a few minutes, he came back fully clothed in loose sweatpants and a hoodie.
and you regret to admit to yourself that your eyes fell to his private area instinctively, finding that he was no longer hard but you could see the outline of his cock slapping against his thigh as he walked closer to you.
“let’s go” he grumbled as he walked ahead of you, heading in some direction in the woods naturally.
you could tell that you hadn’t come this way when you went to the waterfall but you had some trust in simon for some unnatural reason. he led you through the woods, often reaching back to hold your hand and help you slowly step over large branches. mumbling about how next time he’ll have the logs moved. you didn’t bother to answer or question him further, but you were stuck on the part of ‘next time’. simon spoke as if you would be here for a next time, and he said it with such nonchalance that even you for a second had forgotten that it shouldn’t be possible. there was no next time, why did simon seem to believe there would be one?
simon reached ahead and moved a branch for you so you step under it and continue to follow him. “enjoyin’ the cabin?”, he rumbled out as he led you forward.
“mhm, yes i am. it’s really nice” you admit in earnest.
because truly there was nothing wrong with the cabin, it was in beautiful shape and donned updated appliances. you couldn’t find one aspect to complain about the cabin as an property—but the energy that weighs over you when you’re inside of it is simply unmistakeable. that feeling of being watched, being prey, and having a consistent weight on your shoulders made it uncomfortable there. you knew you’d couldn’t relay this mythical issue to simon, so you decided to keep it to yourself as you followed him closer to the edge of the woods.
you were beginning to see the cabin in sight, “glad t’ ear” he grunted out before pulling a thick branch aside so you could walk ahead of him and back to the cabin.
looking over your shoulder at him, you mumbled a thanks which he just grunted in reply to. when you went to walk ahead to the cabin, you noticed a man standing there with your bag of takeout in hand. “who’s he?” you heard simon say but you were too giddy for your food to answer. speed walking ahead of him you got to the front door in record time, ascending the steps to the porch behind the delivery man.
“hey, that’s for me right?” you asked sweetly while the man turned around—he was cute, in the way that college boys are. but not hot in the way simon was.
“you’re y/n right?” the driver smiled at you, his demeanor suggesting that he has taken an instant attraction to you as he moved to stand closer. you nod in happiness as you take the hefty bag of food from his hands. standing in place, you waited a few seconds for the guy to walk back to his car, but he didn’t yet.
“are you renting the cabin here?” he asked with another smile, clearly trying to make conversation with you.
“mhm, and it’s really peaceful here” you said calmly before looking to the side of the treeline where you left simon, noting that he wasn’t there anymore.
“well, i think you’re really pretty and—“ the guy admitted bashful while rubbing the back of his neck. his sentence getting cut off abruptly by the sound of simon’s deep grunt revealing anger.
“y’think she’s pretty eh?” simon huffs out in a gravelly tone. the eyes of the driver widening a bit when he notices simon ascending the steps and standing behind you. his whole form engulfing yours and then some. the driver cranes his neck up to even make eye contact with simon.
“i-“ the driver went to answer.
“don’ wanna ear’ it, leave before i do something we’ll both regret” simon threatens coldly while holding the drivers gaze in a challenge. the driver hurriedly got moving, opting to spring down the porch steps and rush into his car. he reversed on the driveway so fast that rocks kicked up behind his car.
turning you’re head to face simon, you didn’t know what to do. you’re fingers just clutching the food you had bought. “lil mutt thinks he has t’ righ’ to flirt wit ya” simon shakes his head in clear agitation at what just occurred.
“don’ want ya orderin’ any more food while yer here. ya want something, call me ill make it or buy it myself. y’ ear me?” he looks to you with a serious stare. not allowing any room for debate as you felt too intimidated to question him.
“ok” you submit
“good girl”, he nods before turning away and heading back to the treeline. taking his time to step into it, but not before turning to look over his shoulder, noticing that you were still in the same place watching him leave. simon pauses for a moment, and then enters the woods. all proof of his presence being eradicated.
you let out a hefty breath of you didn’t know what, it didn’t feel like relief. it felt more like, being wound up. as you held the food in your hands, you thought back to simon’s hard cock you saw earlier. then thinking about how he scared the delivery driver away and forbade you from ordering takeout yourself again. your stay at this cabin was strange, and you didn’t know what to do with that information. heading inside the cabin, you went straight to the kitchen with intentions to devour the food you bought.
‘he’s so… strange’ you thought as you undid the tie of the plastic bag. your hand reaching inside of it to retrieve one of the take out plates you ordered.
and you just didn’t know what to do with that information per usual. things were occurring so unpredictably as you stayed here and you couldn’t help but conflate the strange events happening with the cabin’s energy as a property. viewing the occurrences as interconnected somehow. but so far, you didn’t have any real evidence of the cabin facilitating any strange activity.
and simon, well he’s just being a good property owner. just looking out for his land, you couldn’t fault him for that.
you dug into the food you bought, thoughtlessly chewing at the food. it tasted really good, you were going to miss this restaurants cooking when you leave this rental. you decided to attempt to relax for the rest of the day, choosing to lounge in the living room as you did a variety of small activities. just anything to pass the time as you didn’t really have an itinerary when you booked this trip. at the time you were just focused on proving to yourself that you could do it—that you weren’t afraid.
but as afternoon, turned into night and the sun descended towards the other side of the globe. you started feeling restless, that uneasy feeling of anxiety pressing into your stomach as you begun to feel, watched.
you’re head turning to surveil the living room area, where you didn’t see anything. everything was in place, there was no strange noises emitting from any area but the cabin was bestowing you with that hefty feeling you’ve grown privy to during your stay here. and it was discomforting.
shifting your body on the couch, you started to pull your legs to your chest. it was a haunting feeling and you couldn’t stand it. couldn’t put words to it, or an explanation. standing slowly from the couch, you moved towards the hallway, just wanting to try and stay occupied. hoping that stretching your legs a bit would dispel the discomfort that plagued you.
it wasn’t working, if anything you begun to feel more vulnerable. as if whatever it was would move to accost you at any moment—a moving target.
your heart started beating faster, palms growing sweaty as you placed your hand on the doorknob of the front door. it was late, and dark out. you didn’t really want to go out there, but you couldn’t bare the suffocating feelings that plague you in the house currently. you just wanted some fresh air, maybe a few moments on the porch would help you cool off.
give your body a chance to lessen its adrenaline rush. although you just felt that you wouldn’t get any considerable rest tonight.
standing outside, it was a cool night in the woods, the soft sound of cicadas chirping away in the trees surrounding the property was a bit calming. it was a waxing gibbous moon tonight as well, its large luminous glow shining bright onto the porch before you.
you let out a shaky breath, looking up at the night sky that shined brightly. the stars and constellations being so clear from here.
“thought i told ya, not t’ be out ere’ after hours, girl?” the sound of a familiar gravelly voice spoke out to you from the tree-line. but it was night now, and you couldn’t see anything beyond the porch, just shadows. but still you tilted your head in that direction anyway, as if you would be able to make out his features.
“simon, what’re you doing out here?” you asked wearily. keeping your back against the outer wall of the cabin.
you felt intimidated, what was he doing by your cabin at this time of night? your mind considered so many different options but the most realistic being that he was watching you. you stood tensely as you heard the slow crunch of grass when simon took steps towards the porch. allowing himself to be revealed by the light.
“my property”, he answered flatly, raising one heavy shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. placing his large hand on the side rail of the porch steps.
not yet ascending them, but just keeping himself there. “now, didn’t i tell ya not to come out after dark” simon asked in a reproachful tone. turning the situation around as if you were the one in the wrong. not him, who appeared to be watching you inside of the cabin. but you, who had not followed one of his orders.
“yes, but-“, you begun before simon patted his heavy palm against the wooden stairs rail. creating a sound that paused your sentence in its tracks.
“yer being a bad girl, y’know tha’ right?” simon huffs with an audible exasperation. he looked down at his boots, shaking his head a bit before ascending the few steps to the porch. at his approach, you scurried off to the side of the porch like a little mouse about to be caught by a ravenous cat.
“m’not bad” you blurt, feeling nervous when he stops in his tracks. looking over at you with a stoic expression.
“mm” he hums, the disagreement being interlaced with the sound.
“think you’ve been good then?” he asks plainly with a twist of sarcasm drenching his tone. you nod your head, not being sure of where this is going.
“think ya were bein’ good when you were staring at my cock earlier?” simon asks with a flat droll, his pale eyes observing your body as you leaned against the wooden balcony of the porch. trying to keep as much distance between yourself and him as possible. your breath caught in your throat. the question reigniting the embarrassment from earlier.
“it was a mistake” you rushed out in your defense.
simon just blinked slowly at you, not feeling moved by your words at all. “s’ not good enough, girl” he replied manipulatively as his gaze never wavered from where you stood.
“i’m sorry simon” you whimper out with a mix of fear and growing sense of arousal. the situation you’re in currently, causing you to grow a bit wet between your thighs. you’re body was reacting crazily.
“jus’ words, need actions” he waved his hand, showing his disregard for your apology.
the gesture revealing how he found your apology to be ineffective in assuaging his feelings. but genuinely, he knew that he didn’t care about any of that. if anything he was satisfied by this outcome.
“i want to rectify this, simon. i’m sorry” you said desperately as you wanted this situation to end. you just wanted to go back inside the cabin now, and forget about this. maybe pack up your things and just leave all together tomorrow morning. but allowing that was the farthest thing from simon’s mind. he wanted you here, for good.
“get on the floor” he demanded, stepping a bit closer to you. your face turned into one of confusion.
“why?” you asked as your poor heart kept racing away in your chest.
“wanna fix this? get on your back n’ spread those legs f’me—know ya want it” he replied in his heavy and thick voice. you were frozen for a second, taking time to register what this situation had led to. but on the same token, you were still interested and wanted to see where this led.
taking your time, you got down onto the floor of the porch. the wood being cool from the night winds as you laid flat on your back. spreading your thighs as your sleep shorts kept you covered. simon simply stood over you, feeling more than satisfied with your compliance. “good girl, now take those lil’ shorts off. n’ show me what i wanna see” he stated as he looked at you with heavily lidded eyes.
your cool fingers moved to the waist of your shorts, slipping against your hot skin to slip them off. you pulled them down slowly, shimming a bit on the ground before tossing them farther on the porch.
“christ—didn’t think ya were this type of girl. look at tha’, so many surprises” he smirks as he stares down at your puffy pussy.
the crotch of your panties being soaking wet and engulfed between your pussy lips. simon gets down to his knees with a crooked smile on his face, displaying his absolute pleasure with the situation you were in. he moves down more, laying on his stomach before wrapping his large arms underneath your knees. gripping at them and then using them as leverage to tug your body closer, and your pussy closer to his mouth.
you whimper at the movement, your head leaning back to stare up at the night sky above you. simon savors the opportunity gladly, using his front teeth to tug at the crotch of your panties.
pulling them forward with his teeth, before releasing them and letting them slap against your clit. “a-ah” you squeak at the movement.
simon watches how your hips wiggle from the sting of the panty slapping your sensitive area with engrossed eyes. “fuck girl—y’ ave’ any idea what i’m gonna do t’ ya?” his voice steady with promise as he lifted his gaze from your wet clit to your eyes. you leaning back on your elbows as you looked down at simon between your legs.
“n-no” you mumbled, alittle nervously.
“gonna wish y’ stayed in the ouse’” he grunted out in a low tone.
he flattens your bended knees to your chest, pressing them down flat until your hips feel an ounce of pain. opening his mouth, simon sticks his long and fat tongue out, pressing it onto your clit. you could feel the heat radiating from his tongue as he rubbed it ardently making your toes curl in sensitivity. he hooks one of his sharp teeth underneath the sodden crotch of your panties and tugs on it hard this time.
his tooth catching it, and tearing into it. popping a hole into your panties, and yanking back on it until the fabric gives way. you were now seeing the fabric of your panties in simon’s maw.
releasing a hum of delight, simon engulfs the fabric in his mouth. savoring the taste before tossing it aside and looking back to your twitching clit. the night air hitting your hot skin. hurriedly, he drops his mouth to your clit like it was going to run away. engulfing your pussy lips in a steamy french kiss. his lips wrapping around your small nub so he could suckle on it.
your stomach erupted in butterflies at his motions. your hand slipping down to press onto simon’s scalp, trying to make him lighten up.
simon sucks your nub deeper into his mouth, his pale eyes looking upward at you so he could hold eye contact. he huffed in pleasure as he licked at your pussy again, paying the hand on his head no mind at all. moving downward, he uses the tip of his tongue to rub against your hole. circling it softly before prodding his tongue at it, edging toward slipping it in.
your stomach tightened at his ministrations, tiny squeals spurting from your lips as you let simon work on you.
“s-sir, please” you squeak as you beg for a bit of mercy. the overwhelming behavior of his mouth making your body lock up in sensitivity. simon ignores you, sticking his tongue deeper into your pussy as his hands gripped the back of your legs tighter. giving you no opportunity to move.
he acts as if he hadn’t heard you at all, moving to push and pull his tongue in and out of your hole with his eyes focused upwards on yours.
you quiver in his hold, your body trying to get used to the motions. simon eventually pauses, withdrawing his hot tongue from your pussy like he’s gotten a better idea. he removes his hold on your legs, letting them flop to the wood floor beneath you two.
he uses his arms to prop himself up, getting into push up position before getting up to sit on his haunches. reaching behind his neck, he pulls his hoodie over his head. placing it beside himself on the floor.
“c’mere girl” he grunts as he waits for you to slide your body closer to his.
you oblige, using a slow motion to slide closer to him on your back. simon sat between your legs, making you need to spread your legs and bare your pussy to him. he looked down at your pussy with greed, his hand moving down to undo the button of his jeans.
“pussy looks so good, wanna ruin it” he grumbles as he tugs down the waist of his jeans. pulling his boxers down as well to release his cock. you grew wetter at the anticipation—you had already seen it before mistakenly—but this time it was different. this time you were going to feel it. he grips himself from the base, revealing his hard cock. it juts out from his groin with fervor, pre dripping from the tip and landing on the porch floor.
“mm, look ow’ wet ya are. yer excited?” he said smugly while placing two hands on your hips, pulling you snugly against him.
laying on your back, you did feel excited.
“mhmm” you hum nastily. letting your desire get the best of you.
he huffs a laugh out, “look at you, eh?” he teases as if taken aback by your lustfulness. he holds his cock in his rough hand, leaning forward to tap it against your clit. rubbing the thick head of it in circles on your clit repeatedly. his tip getting wet from doing so. continuing his movements, he slipped his cock up and down between your pussy lips.
you couldn’t help but spread your legs wider, welcoming his behavior. the cool wind of the night making your nipples pebble. “legs up,girl” he orders as he stares down at you.
your stomach twisting in a knot at the order, he was going to put you through the porch. “b-but—“ you began before he simply shushed you whilst pressing the wide tip of his cock against your sensitive hole. your body going tense at the feeling and making him grin.
“gonna’ show ya why you’ll listen next time” he mumbles but you hear him loud and clear. it was the same two words he had used earlier, the tips of your ears becoming perked from familiarity. but as simon gripped his rough palms around your ankles, your brain was practically melting out of your ears. taking your right leg first, he places your ankle over his shoulder. repeating the same motion with the left as you eyes widened a bit in concern. the fear in your eyes only spurring simon on.
“be a good girl f’me, show me how ya take it” he cooed as he leaned forward, going belly to belly with you and making your legs bend farther back than you even knew they could.
feeling the stretch in your calves and thighs, you squealed out loudly. the corner of your eye getting teary as you looked at the moon over simon’s shoulder. the light of it shining down at you with its unfaltering luminescence. “yea—didn’t even put it in yet n’ yer cryin’ already” he huffs before dropping his head low, pulling you into a warm and steamy kiss to help you relax. the slip of tongue into your mouth serving as a bit of reprieve as he started nibbling on your lip, making you crack a small smile.
he couldn’t hold his smile either, trying to disguise it by diving deeper into the kiss. you felt him placing the tip of his cock at your hole again, this time seriously meaning to insert it.
“a-ah, simon!” you moaned out so loudly the animals in the forest likely heard it.
“goodddd fuckin’ pussy” simon groaned as he slipped in past his tip, sliding his cock in slowly by pushing it in and pulling it out repetitively until he got to the base. you were breathing heavily, your back going slick with sweat even in the cool weather due to the strain of your pussy widening for him. you couldn’t hold in your whines, your eyebrows furrowing and crown of your head falling back against the porch floor as you waited for him to bottom out.
“christ” he moaned out. the sound being so salacious and surprising to you as you looked over at him.
“oh god” simon huffed out as he steadied his palms on the ground beside your bent legs. starting off with a steady pace immediately as he pounded your tight pussy aggressively. the sound of skin slapping and wet squelches piercing the once silent woods surrounding you both. simon was going a bit light headed as he fucked you, not having done this for so many years. he didn’t expect to ever meet someone like you, figuring that this was just the lot the gods had bestowed upon him—one of loneliness.
and god, did he not anticipate meeting someone with a pussy like this—like yours. “gonna pound ya through the damn floorboards-fuck- and then i’m gonna fix em. just to do it again” he grunted with the air of a promise.
you were moaning unabashedly, knowing that no one for miles could hear you or see you. it was so different out here then where you live, you liked it. “oouu simon, feels so good” you cried out as his leaking mushroom tip rubbed against something in your stomach, your mouth falling open in shock. simon leans down, his crooked teeth going to tug at your lips again in admiration. this time you initiated the kiss, reaching your hand up to pull on the back of his neck, making him kiss you back.
“awh, gonna make me cum in ya” he grunted, feeling your walls twitch welcomingly at the idea.
your ears were ringing from the intrusion, the overwhelming amount of sensations your body was undergoing being almost shocking. pressing his body forward even more, he moves his hands even higher, gripping the floorboards above your head. allowing you to see how his veins and biceps flex, as simon slides his face in between your shoulder and neck—starting to give you the most punishingly pleasurable strokes. it felt like even the porch was shaking a bit from the rough motions occurring between you two.
simon didn’t care, simply going to nibble on your neck.
your vocal cords were growing strained from all the screaming you were doing. simon licking at your neck as you felt his thick cock rub against some tender and mushy part of your anatomy. it was a like a switch had clicked in your brain, letting you know that you wouldn’t last much longer. and with the pace he was fucking you at, your stomach felt like it would explode if you came on him. pressing your hands against his stomach, you tried to slow him down and escape the absolutely devastating orgasm that was hurdling towards you.
“ah-ah, no running, girl” he said before moving one of his arms to push yours away from his stomach. continuing his merciless pace. “take tha’ dick, there ya go” he encouraged as you started closing your eyes, trying to relax your body for what was inevitable.
“s-s-simon”, you practically screamed as he kept pounding into you like an animal. “m’ never letting ya go, ya ear’ me?” he growled out while practically taking your soul. you could hear the promise in his tone. your body went rigid, going paralyzed in his hold as your pussy started squirting all over his cock and lower belly. messing up the porch floorboards beneath the two of you in the process.
“oh yeaaaa, c’mon girl—own this cock. make it yours” he said with a blissful expression. his cheeks getting flushed with redness as his eyes fell closed. relishing in the feeling of your pussy around him.
using every bit of self restraint he had to avoid cumming inside. his stomach erupted in butterflies as his nerve endings alerted him that he couldn’t hold it anymore. pulling out, your pussy makes the nastiest squelching noise, as simon starts jerking himself over your belly. you reach upward, moving simon’s hand away and starting to rub his cock instead. holding eye contact with him as he looked down at you with his pupils blown.
“want it” you whispered,
your voice alone being enough to make his body stiffen, his mouth falling open as he let out a heavy and gruff moan. his warm cum falling on your stomach as you kept jerking him. simon’s head falling back as he breathed heavily above you. his palms turning into fists on his sides as he felt you jerk him to sensitivity.
“alrigh’ alrigh’ gonna kill me” he breaths out as he pulls your wrist off of him.
you lied back in the floorboards in a loose state of shock, your gaze being focused over his shoulder at the sky as you simply tried to catch your breath. you couldn’t believe that this had just happened between you and the landowner. simon was in a similar condition, breathing raggedly as he tried to relax his body from the rush of cumming.
“next time, i’m gonna cum in ya” he sighs as if it was inevitable now. his prediction being just a matter of time.
you were feeling a bit hazy, but you were able to understand what he said just fine. what was it with him and talking about ‘next time’?
“next time?” you repeat; intending to finally get a satisfactory answer on why simon keeps suggesting that you won’t be leaving. that these nights are just the first of many to come.
Guys... I need help finding a Simon fanfic 😭 It's one where Reader goes to an escape room? A haunted house in a park? Like those with costumed characters chasing people. Anyway, Reader gets separated from her friends and Simon finds her, and then the smut happens 😪 I can't find it anywhere.
Your father was the richest man within four states. And you'd come to hate the dumb dresses, the silly hats—how you were expected to marry a man that would inherit your father's wealth. Utter bullshit.
Now you'd think that with all of that information, you'd have been glad when Simon and his gang stopped your carriage on your way to some high society event your father sent you off on.
The stupid bastards used their names with each other. Which is how you came to know Simons name. And disturbingly, he was attractive. Black long sleeve button up that seemed to be well worn, some dark, almost black jeans—Christ this guy likes black—Even wearing a black wide brim hat.
From what you could see, despite the dark cloth covering the lower half of his face, he had a few scars. A jagged one through his eyebrow.
Simon bound your wrists and legs before throwing you over the back of his sturdy horse.
They'd taken you back to their camp. Strapped you to a tree as Simon reloaded his pistol.
"Should get a good amount of ransom from her father" Simon says gruffly, Price, the man you assumed was the 'leader', nodding along.
"God, neither of you understand high society." You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Simon tilting his head at you. "My father won't give two shits if I'm gone. He just wanted me to marry the man that will take over his bank. So he has someone to pass off his wealth to."
"Quite the mouth for a high society girl," Simon hummed, stepping closer and holstering his pistol "So what're we going to do with you now?"
Turns out, you were the perfect addition to their gang. You knew the ins ands outs of your father's banks. You could draw the blueprints from memory after sneaking into your father's office at night out of an act of rebellion.
And after the first successful heist, Simon dragged you into his tent. His mouth a flame that traveled down your body, nudging his face between your legs and giving you an orgasm that your fingers could never achieve.
His tongue flicked against your clit meticulously. Finding the perfect angle and the perfect rhythm. Your thighs tightening around his head when his fingers joined—Practically suffocating him when he makes you come on his tongue.
And after he'd loosened you up for him, he split you open on his stupidly thick cock. Throwing your legs over his shoulders as his hips practically slam into yours. His fingers likely leaving bruises where he was holding your hips.
Unfortunately for the rest of the gang, Simon made sure you screamed in pleasure for him. Reaching between your heated bodies to rub your clit at a delicious pace. Making your overstimulated cunt come twice more for him. Before pulling out and burying his face into your neck—growling into it as you reached down and stroked his uncut cock. Simon growling a low, drawn out 'fuck' into your ear as he came on your stomach. Claiming you as his own.
You definitely felt claimed the following morning when you limped out of Simons tent, blushing furiously as you felt the other members of the gang staring at you. Though, Simon made sure everyone knew you were his. When you went to sit around the campfire to eat breakfast Johnny made, Simon pulled you onto his lap. Squeezing your ass before resting his hand possessively over your hip. Large scarred hand making your stomach feel like warm goo.
Turns out your father being a high society douchebag was the best thing that ever happened to you.
⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧
turns out the depressive episode I thought I was in, was a day long?? My brain confuses me. Anyway yes this is fully inspired by rdr2. Simon is in that all black get up you see Arthur in, in ALL the edits.
strutting around the house in a little sundress, loose hem of the dress caressing at the supple skin of your thighs, fluttering around when you twist and turn, going around the house chores like some movie housewife, knowing well that simon riley watches you, sitting across the couch, hungry gaze sweeping over each curve of your body.
you know he loves them, the dresses, short or long, the allure is in the easy access, the possibility of finding you under there already naked, slip off each sleeve down your shoulder with a feathery caress, calloused fingers circling at the shoulder blades, skimming down your sternum, breasts squeezed together, round and pretty, nipples pebbled beneath, excited by the whisper of simon's touch.
walking like a kitty, each of your steps are stretched, presenting, languid as you float around the kitchen, bending over the kitchen counter, the dress complimenting at your ass, not short enough to expose, but enough to make the fabric hug around the plump swell of flesh, the outline of your panties, and simon catches the simmering gaze you shoot him over your shoulder, the bite of your teeth's down the pillow of your lower lip.
you pull up on your toes towards the higher shelf, dress raising, tenting over your breasts, and you close your eyes to imitate a yawn, taking a quick glance at simon, the flutter of his eyelashes, swooping down to hide the burn in his umber eyes, broad chest rising up, smooth breath turns into sharp, rumbling exhale, as you turn away, knowing he creeps up behind your curving, shuddering back.
your body succumbs under the push of his hands, rolling and tugging at the fabric that conceals your skin, pliable under simon's calloused fingertips, spreading your loose limbed legs over, rough palms paving a warm patch up your hips, tugging you closer to the edge, where his swollen, thick cock lays heavily upon the wet gusset of your pantied pussy, gliding up, nudging in, before he slips the soiled cotton aside.
it's ecstatic, each prolonged, sharp thrust of his heavy cock inside your drippy pussy, the curve of his tip butting against your spongy, gooey spot, making your every finger twitch, spasming both over the length of his spine, curling in his shirt, and toes digging right above his lower back, simon's palms grasping over your round hips with greed, nails sinking in, making your cunt flutter, gushing down.
the chores ain't finished at all, but that's exactly what you wanted, moaning sweet and cloying against simon's mouth, pulled in a ferocious snarl, melting over when you catch them in a blistering kiss each time his hips snap forward, pumping, pulling his body closer, stilling for a couple of minutes, huffing and groaning in your slack, kiss swollen lips.
Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley is an absolute dick towards rookies, and loves perving on you specifically
He acts like he's a basement dwelling freak the first time you met, like he's never seen a lady in his entire life. But he'd rather die than admit that your sweet smile and pretty eyes got under his skin and into his mind, he couldn't be looking soft in front of the brass.
The only way to remedy this is to just be a dick. Simon's not very good at flirting or expressing his attraction for you, finding it hard to break through those initial feelings of apprehension to express himself. You tried to be polite, chatting to him about you day in hopes of getting a conversation going, but all you get are huffs and grunts in return.
You just make his dick so hard that all his blood leaves his brain and rushes south, leaving him stupid and so horny :(
And Simon gets so mean during sparring sessions (that he seemed to be adamant about doing, alone too), throwing you down to the ground and putting you in a ruthless headlock. While you squirm around under him because he's so damn heavy he's crushing you, he takes the time to mock you, grunting and growling into your ear about how he could snap you like a twig.
Oh, and just ignore the hot and heavy cock currently poking into your ass, straining against the fabric of his tactical pants, or the way he's got you prone on the mat, chest and tummy pressed flat while he shifts his hips against your plush bottom, and stop wiggling around, you're making it worse!
Simon would put you in a tighter headlock, his thick bicep bulging while he's trying to silence your whines that are about to make him cum in his boxers like some stupid horny teenager :( But one hard thrust of his strong hips against you has got you quieting down.
And don't worry about the fact that all the other rookies now avoid you like you've got cooties or something, Simon just scared them all off, making it very clear that you're his now. And anyone who has a problem with that can have his size 13 boot up their ass.
That's how people would describe your relationship with Simon, even your friends gave you a confused, almost unsettling look when you first introduced him to them.
But you couldn't care less. Despite the constant disapproval looks of your parents—especially your father—you still kept on seeing Simon. That's why both of you are on your second year together.
Inside your relationship, both of you managed to stay . . . holy? Or maybe only you. Simon is definitely just holding back, he's aware you want to wait until marriage, and being the best boyfriend he is, he's willing to wait.
Though of course, you still have needs. And despite not wanting to acknowledge it, Simon insists it's okay if you do.
Kisses here and there begin to happen, even though it started as quick pecks on the lips, it slowly turned into a full-blown make out sessions. You pray after—you always do—telling God to forgive you for doing such things and having sinful thoughts.
But soon after, it isn't just kisses. Simon would occasionally pull you into his lap when things get heated, his rough and heavy hands guiding your hips to grind down on his erection, fully controlling your movements.
"'S alright, luvie," he whispers in your ear when he notices your eyebrows furrow slightly, caressing your hips, "It's not in, right?"
And how can you resist your boyfriend when it also feels good for you? So you let it happen, you close your eyes and let yourself feel pleasure, feel him.
Which is why you end up laid down on the couch, skirt lifted up just enough for Simon to see all of you, panties pulled to the side as the angry tip of his cock nudges your soaked entrance.
"Jus' the tip, angel," he coax, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek, an attempt to calm you down.
"Si . ." you whine at him, fat tears already threatening to spill down your cheeks any moment now, "I don't think I can—"
"Ya can," he answers, almost too fast, "Yer a good girl."
He places a hand on your cheek, caressing softly as his tip slide out of you, then in again, making you breathe in sharply. He makes sure to help you relax again, whispering lowly in your ear as he continues to slip his tip in and out.
He does that for a while, groaning lowly everytime he feels your pussy clench tightly around his languid thrusts—but then he lets an inch of his cock slip inside.
"Simon!" you gasp, mouth agape, your fingernails now digging further into his skin, leaving marks on his bicep. A stray tear runs down your cheek as you close your eyes.
"Shhh, luvie," he coos in your ear, kising your tears away and massaging your hips, "Feels good, doesn't it?"
When you nod hesitantly, he presses deeper once again, working his thick cock inside you inch by inch. It's buried inside your sweet cunt until it bulges in your stomach, the outline of his cock visible.
"Look at tha'," he chuckles darkly, looking down at where your bodies are connected, "Fuckin' made f'me, ye are."
His thrusts becomes harsher soon after, holding you down when you weakly attempt to squirm away from him, or rather his pistoning cock abusing your virgin pussy.
"Atta girl," he rasps, opening your legs wider in order to see more of your glistening cunt swallowing every thick inch of him, "Yer made f'this, made to take my cock, yeah?"
The size of his cock alone is enough to overwhelm you—but the way he fucks you is a different story, he does it like there's no tomorrow, like he's trying to break the damn couch. And his cock reaches your sweet spot over and over again, making your body shudder with each thrust, eyes rolling back.
He's so filthy, filthier than you thought he is. His raspy voice, whispering things in your ear like;
"Look at yer lil' pussy, angel. She's already so eager for it."
"Don't cry, luvie. 'S not wrong, yer still a good girl. My good fuckin' girl."
If you thought him fucking you mercilessly was already too much, you definitely weren't prepared when he fills your cunt up with his seed, hilting himself as deep as he can.
older bf!simon riley who has a nasty corruption kink but has to hold himself back around his virgin/inexperienced partner.
He's practically vibrating with need when he steps into your apartment, forcing himself to be gentle with you when he places a kiss on your cheek, not trying to shove his tongue in your throat and lick at your molars.
And now he's lying in your ridiculous bed with you asleep in his big, burly arms, who even needs this many pillows and blankets, are you really that cold? Poor Simon's balls are so tight and heavy from just a little bit of cuddling and kissing, but he'd never wake up his sweet love and ask you for help. No, he has to take it slow with you, let you set the pace and come to him when you want.
Also, he already knows the first time he finally gets his hand on you, it's not gonna last very long, his swollen tip spurting thick ropes of cum inside your warm, wet hole only after sinking in an inch :(
Now Simon has to go to work without cumming after visiting his lovely partner.
His cock is in a permanent semi-chub on base, his balls so fat and heavy with cum that was meant for you. Poor guy is just grunting and growling at everyone, acting like a proper bitch on base, barking out orders and making the rookies run extra laps for even looking at him.
Even poor Soap is walking on eggshells seeing how agitated and cranky Simon is, watching him adjust himself in his jeans.
Simon's gotta take 5 to furiously jerk off in the bathroom, staring at a picture of you he keeps in his wallet :)
you never planned on becoming a late-night gym rat. it just …happened. like most things in your life, it started with good intentions and spiraled into something you weren’t entirely in control of.
you’d made a new year’s resolution to get in shape— because health, discipline, all that crap— and, in a moment of overzealous optimism, you splurged on a gym membership. a pricey one, to add. the kind that made your bank account cry, which meant quitting wasn’t an option.
there was only one problem. you were busy. between classes, assignments, and the absolute joke that was your sleep schedule, the only time you could consistently work out was well past normal human hours.
at first, the idea of hitting the gym at midnight felt… weird. like stepping into a parallel universe where only insomniacs and questionable life choices existed. but then you considered the alternative— going during peak hours and getting judged for your piss-poor form, or worse, waiting in line for machines behind a dude who was live-streaming his workout.
midnight schedule it was.
it grew on you eventually. the routine became second nature. drag yourself in after class, half-asleep, toss your bag into a locker, and start on the treadmill to wake yourself up. a slow warm-up, music blasting through your headphones, then a mostly half-hearted attempt at strength training.
the people who showed up at this hour were predictable. a few other students— dead-eyed, running on caffeine fumes. a handful of older folks, the dedicated ones who treated the gym like a sacred temple.
and then there was him.
tall. broad. built like something out of a military recruitment ad.
the first time you noticed him, you’d nearly tripped on the treadmill. one second, you were zoning out, staring at the clock, and the next— there he was. buzz cut barely visible beneath the hood of his sweatshirt, arms thick with muscle, veins running down his forearms in stark lines. tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, black ink tracing the ridges of his skin.
(the combat boots were what threw you off. who the hell wore combat boots to the gym?)
he moved through his workout with terrifying
efficiency. no wasted movements, no unnecessary pauses. heavyweights. circuits. the kind of training that looked more like preparation for war than casual fitness. he never looked winded either. no gasping for breath, no pausing to rest, just relentless, controlled effort.
you developed a— not a crush— an appreciation for him. admiration. respect. that was it. not the way his hoodie stretched across his shoulders when he adjusted his grip on the barbell. not the way his jaw clenched in concentration. not the way his fingers wrapped around the weights with an ease that made you feel woefully inadequate.
“it’s a crush,” your friend announced one evening, stabbing a straw into his juice box.
you scoffed, flipping through your notes. “it’s not.”
“it is. i’m fit too, but i don’t see you staring at me like you wanna lick salt off my abs.”
you made a disgusted noise. “jesus, shut up.”
he grinned, tipping his juice box back dramatically. “i’m just saying. the fact that you haven’t even talked to him and yet know his entire workout routine is very-"
“i do not know his entire workout routine.”
your friend raised a brow.
you sighed. “…he does back and legs on tuesdays.”
his brow lifted higher.
“…and arms on thursdays.”
silence.
“right.”
“shut up.”
you’d considered talking to him. maybe asking for tips or making some awkward joke about his frankly ridiculous choice of gym footwear. but he didn’t exactly radiate approachable.
the man looked like he’d rather be waterboarded than engage in small talk.
and you? you weren’t some plucky rom-com protagonist who could charm the brooding loner into friendship with a dazzling smile and sheer force of personality. so, you kept your distance. which was fine. totally fine.
What the hell would you even say? “hey, nice pecs, can I bury my face between them?” he’d call the police on you.
so, you stayed quiet..
until the night you made the monumentally stupid decision to start lifting weights.
in your defense, it wasn’t entirely your idea. you were perfectly content with your usual treadmill-and-machines routine. but then your friend had to go and mock you.
“you’re paying for a full gym membership,” he said, flicking a fry at your forehead, “and you’re not even using the weight room?”
“i use it,” you protested.
“you walk through it.”
okay, fine. he had a point. which was how you ended up here, standing in front of a barbell, mentally preparing yourself to lift it like you were about to perform brain surgery.
you’d done your research— watched some youtube tutorials, read some articles. you knew the basics. foot placement. core engagement. not arching your back like a possessed demon.
you took a deep breath, squared your stance, wrapped your hands around the bar, and— nothing.
the bar didn’t budge.
you frowned, adjusted your grip. another deep breath. still nothing.
okay. you could do this. just, more force. maybe a little momentum. you planted your feet, sucked in a breath, and heaved—
"y’need a spotter?"
you startle so hard you nearly fall backward, breath catching as you whip around. close— he’s close, and jesus, he’s even bigger up close. broad shoulders, thick arms crossed over his chest, pale eyes flicking between you and the barbell like he’s already making peace with witnessing an injury. his hoodie is pulled up like always, shadows cutting sharp over the edges of his jaw, but there’s something vaguely unimpressed about his expression. braced for disaster.
you swallow. "uh."
his brow lifts, expectant, as if this is some kind of trick question. "that a yes or a no?"
"i-" your brain short-circuits. every ounce of confidence you had a second ago shrivels up and dies. "i totally got this."
he exhales sharply, something between a scoff and a sigh. he shifts his weight, one foot bracing slightly forward. "sure you do.
your face heats. you turn back to the barbell, fingers tightening around the metal, and pull. it lifts— barely. your arms burn, hands already sweating, but you’re stubborn. you have it. almost.
"you’re about to smash your fucking face in," he mutters.
you falter— just for a second— but that’s all it takes. your grip slips, the weight tilting. shit, shit, shit!
he moves fast. faster than you expect. before you can even panic properly, his hands brace yours, steadying the bar with zero effort. he’s strong, fingers wrapping over yours for a brief moment before smoothly guiding the weight back onto the rack like it weighs nothing. you stumble back, arms trembling from the strain, but he doesn’t step away yet, just watches you catch your breath.
"right," he says after a beat, stepping back. "now that you’ve definitely got it, mind if i give you some actual pointers?"
you blink up at him, still processing the fact that you almost died, and this guy just saved your life like it was nothing. "you train people?"
"no. just rather not watch someone crush their skull in." which is… fair, you suppose.
you wipe your sweaty palms on your leggings, trying not to look as embarrassed as you feel. "okay. please. teach me."
you and simon— you learn his name by the third day!— slowly fall into a routine, much to his chagrin. he hadn’t expected offering to help you not splatter brain matter across the gym floor would lead to... this. a persistent presence. a shadow in his periphery.
he doesn’t know how it happened, how you managed to wedge yourself into the one place he thought was untouchable, but somehow, you did. and now, you’re there. always. not in an overbearing way. you don’t talk his ear off or force yourself on him. if anything, you’re surprisingly easy to be around. and worse— comfortable. which is fucking dangerous.
a routine starts forming. he hadn’t expected that offering to help you not crush your own skull under a barbell would lead to… this. hadn’t expected that you’d still be here, three days later, four, a week, waving at him when he walks in, bright-eyed and warm despite the ungodly hour. he tries to keep you at arm’s length, really, he does.
but you’re not loud. you don’t force yourself on him. you don’t pry or try to push past his walls— you just exist, alongside him, like it’s a natural thing in the world. you ask him questions, ease him into conversations so seamlessly that sometimes he doesn’t even notice he’s talking until he’s already halfway into answering.
"you ever listen to anything in those headphones?"
he glances at you, then down at his battered over-ear set, blinking like he’d forgotten they were even on. "sometimes."
you hum, stepping up to adjust your weights. "what kinda music?
he hesitates. "depends."
"on?"
"the day."
you narrow your eyes. "that’s not an answer."
"sure it is."
you mutter something under your breath about how “everyone in this gym is allergic to giving a straight answer,” but drop it— he notices that about you. you ask, but you never push. never press. you’re content with whatever he gives, and somehow that makes him want to give you more.
it’s little things at first. small details. he learns that you hate most protein juices but drink it anyway, that you run cold so you always wear a hoodie even when you’re sweating through it, that you hate country music and give him a long, horrified look when you learn that he doesn’t. ("not all of it," he defends, rolling his eyes. "some of it’s alright." you just shake your head at him like he’s beyond saving.)
you learn things too. that his tattoos are actually a full sleeve ("when’d you get these?" "over time." "wow, thanks, that clears so much up."), that he has an endless supply of grey hoodies and sweatpants that he refuses to explain.
"you ever heard of color?" you ask, plucking at his sleeve, and he swats your hand away. "practical," he grunts. "s’not a fuckin’ fashion show."
and then— of course— you fixate on the boots. the combat boots. “okay, but why?” you prod, nudging the toe of his boot with yours. “you know you can wear actual gym shoes, right?”
he gives you a flat look, expression unreadable under the shadow of his hood. “they’re my only pair.”
you freeze. your face twists, and there’s this flicker of genuine horror in your eyes that throws him completely off guard. “simon... are you... homeless?” your voice drops to a whisper, hesitant, like you’re afraid to even ask. his brain short-circuits. he smacks you lightly over the head, more shocked than anything.
"what the fuck- no, i'm not homeless, jesus."
you rub the spot with a pout, still eyeing him like you're not completely convinced. “well, i don’t know,” you mumble.
“you wear the same thing every day, never see you with a bag or a wallet or-”
“drop it.”
“-you don’t even buy pre-workout, simon, who does that-”
“drop it.”
some days, he comes into the gym in a mood. the kind where his head is full of static, his skin prickling with the restless need to exhaust himself into oblivion. those are the days he doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to be seen. and you— you notice. you don’t come up to him, don’t pester him or try to joke around like normal. instead, you just stand off to the side, watching him with this soft, wide-eyed expression like some kind of kicked puppy.
it’s unbearable.
like an itch under his skin that won’t go away. it eats at him, gnaws at the edges of his concentration, and before he can help it, he’s groaning and gesturing you over with a sharp flick of his fingers. “for fuck’s sake, just get over here already.”
you grin like you’ve won something, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you jog over, and he regrets it immediately.
you bring him coffee sometimes. at first, he doesn’t know how to react. he just stares at it when you shove the cup into his hands, blinking down at the little scribbled name on the side like it’s some kind of foreign object. he doesn’t even like sugary coffee, but he drinks it anyway.
the next day, guilt eats at him, so he shoves a protein shake into your hands, unwilling to meet your eyes. "s’only fair."
you squint at it, shake the bottle, listening to the liquid inside slosh around. “what’s in it?”
he scoffs. "fuckin’ cyanide."
you take an exaggerated sniff before grinning. “smells like peanut butter.”
his eye twitches. “just drink it.”
and then, somehow, that becomes a thing, too. a habit. every other day, one of you brings the other something— coffee, protein shakes, the occasional energy drink when you can tell he’s running on fumes.
one night, the gym is nearly empty. just the hum of air conditioning, the occasional clink of metal, the low buzz of some forgotten playlist over the speakers. the late hour has driven most people out, leaving only you and simon.
you’re exhausted, arms shaking, muscles burning with that deep, satisfying ache, but you’re pushing for one more rep. just one.
simon stands behind you, watching through the mirror. arms crossed, weight shifted slightly forward. tracking every movement, every shift in your stance, the way your hands tighten around the bar.
"you're on fumes," he mutters, but steps closer anyway, close enough that the heat of him presses against your back.
you roll your shoulders, shake out your wrists. “i got it.”
he exhales sharp through his nose, scoff and sigh rolled into one, but he doesn’t argue. just moves in, bracketing your sides, his presence steadying.
"alright," he murmurs, watching as you adjust your grip.
you brace yourself, pull, and the weight barely moves. your arms burn immediately, tendons screaming under the strain. your grip shifts, fingers trembling, slipping—
his hands are there. firm and certain, sliding just beneath yours, adjusting your hold without taking over. his chest nearly against your back, his breath warm against the top of your head.
"fix that grip, sweetheart."
you do, fingers locking down harder, shoulders bracing. he doesn’t let go, not fully, his palms ghosting over your forearms, steadying you just enough.
"lock it out," he says, quiet but insistent. his hands shift, one flattening against your stomach, the other hovering at your ribs, like he can feel where the tension is pulling wrong, where you need to engage. "push through. i’ve got you."
your breath stutters, something curling low in your stomach, and you force everything into that last pull, dragging the bar up, arms shaking, until you finally lock it out.
his fingers press in, just briefly, a quick squeeze at your ribs. "good."
you hold it for a second before guiding the weight back down, slow and controlled. the second it racks, your body gives, arms dead, shoulders screaming.
you stumble, just a little, and his hands are already there, catching at your waist. warm. solid. fingers pressing in just enough to steady you. they linger, just a second too long.
and then— "good girl."
barely above a murmur, just breath and heat against your skin, but it slams through you all the same.
your stomach tightens. your pulse jumps. you freeze.
you turn, still breathless, muscles trembling from exertion.
and he’s right there. solid. massive. crowding you. broad chest rising and falling, sweat clinging to the fabric stretched over muscle. too close, heat rolling off him, sinking into your skin, and making your stomach twist. up close, he’s all sharp lines and thick muscle, biceps flexing slightly as he rolls his shoulders back, tilting his head down to look at you.
"don’t-" your voice breaks. you swallow hard. "don’t do that."
simon’s brow lifts, lazy. "don’t do what, sweetheart?"
your fingers twitch at your sides. you gesture vaguely, heat curling up your spine. "that. the- the praise."
his mouth quirks, amusement flickering at the edges. "what, telling you you’re doing good?"
"yes."
he makes a sound low in his throat. "why? thought you liked it."
you try to start a defense, but he steps closer, and fuck, there’s nowhere to go.
"you did so good," he murmurs. his hand lifts, brushing over the curve of your waist. "pushed yourself real hard. took every single rep like a good girl."
your breath catches and oh, does he catch on to that.
"you like hearing that, don’t you?" his fingers curl, pressing into your hip. "knowing i’m right there, watching you, making sure you finish strong."
low, warm, approving—
"bet that’s why you pushed so hard," he continues, like he’s musing to himself. "just to hear me say it. just to make me proud."
simon’s eyes flicker to the vein in your neck. his other hand lifts, brushing a damp strand of hair away from your face, slow, almost tender.
"say it, sweetheart," he murmurs. "let me take care of you.”
“please.”
the rest of the gym is a blur. you don’t even register leaving, don’t remember how you end up outside, only that simon’s hand is wrapped tight around your wrist, dragging you through the parking lot with a single-minded purpose. the concrete expanse is empty except for simon’s truck parked just underneath a street lamp.
simon hauls you into the backseat, the door slamming shut behind him. the truck rocks with the force of it, windows already fogging, the stale scent of leather and the last remnants of his cologne in the air. the streetlights outside cast a dim glow that cuts through the darkness in thin streaks, glinting off the sweat at his temples.
his hands are on you before you can think. rough, impatient. he grabs your hips, yanks you into his lap, drags you down until you crash against him. the heat of him burns through every layer between you.
his hips roll up.
you jolt, hands flying to his shoulders, gripping tight as the thick shape of him grinds against your clit. even through the fabric, you feel everything— the ridges, the weight, the solid pressure slotting perfectly against you.
he does it again.
your breath catches, legs tensing where they straddle his thighs. you try to move, to adjust, but his hands flex, fingers digging in, keeping you pinned where he wants you.
"shh," simon hushes, arm against your skin, grip tightening as he forces you down harder, thighs flexing beneath you. "let me feel you."
his hips drag against you and you react before your brain can catch up, instinct driving you forward, grinding down, chasing the pressure.
his breath stutters, shoulders tensing as he watches you move. the friction grows slicker, hotter, the damp fabric sticking between you.
you glance down— and then you see it. his sweats, darkened, soaked where you grind against him, your arousal leaking through, making a mess of him.
"fuck-"
he exhales sharply, hands shifting, one palm smoothing down your thigh before gripping, pulling you into him.
"that’s it." he’s almost slurring his words now, his hips rolling up to meet yours. "so fuckin’ wet..."
your nails bite into his arms, your body working without thought, hips rolling, pressing down harder. the truck shifts with every movement, the worn leather seat creaking beneath you.
"fuck, baby." his lips brush your jaw. "so messy. feel that?"
you nod frantically and his cock jumps at your eagerness.
his patience snaps.
one moment you’re grinding down against him, chasing the delicious friction, and the next you're scrambling for purchase as he lifts you.
simon shoves his sweats down, and his cock springs free, slapping up against his stomach. it's thick. throbbing. the flushed tip leaking pre, smearing along the ridges of his abs, catching in the dim of the streetlights.
he’s big. not just in length— though fuck, he’s long enough to make your stomach clench— but thick, too. veins run along the shaft, disappearing beneath the flushed, ruddy skin. the head is a deep, aching red, fat and swollen, leaking so much it dribbles down, streaking along his cock, mixing with the slick mess you’ve already made on him.
the weight of him makes his cock hang low even as it twitches, pulsing with the rush of blood. it looks almost angry, the veins along the base throbbing, his whole cock flexing with each slow pump of his fist as he strokes himself, spreading the mess of precum along his length.
simon watches your expression shift, pleased. "knew you’d like that.”
he's teasing but you barely hear it. your eyes stay locked on him, pulse hammering as you take in the sheer size, the stretch you’re about to take—
he shifts his grip, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other around his cock. your hips twitch, instinct making you reach for him, trying to press forward, but he holds you back, squeezes to get your attention.
"look at that..” simon presses the head of his cock against your stomach, dragging it up, smearing wet along your skin. "gonna take all this, yeah? let me stretch that little cunt open?"
"yes- yes, please-"
"fuck." his breath shudders, his hold on you tightening. "greedy thing."
he yanks you forward, spreads your legs wider, fits himself between your thighs, grinds his cock through your slit.
the first press makes you jolt, your whole body twitching, a choked sound slipping from your throat. he groans, gripping your waist, shoving you down, rubbing your swollen clit against the head, dragging himself through your slick over and over again.
"desperate," he muses, almost cruel. "thought you could take me just like that?"
you try to answer, try to say something, but your brain doesn't work, body too busy chasing relief, hips jerking, cunt aching, a mess of whimpers spilling from your lips.
his cock is heavy against your stomach, his tip leaving a damp streak along your skin as he drags it upward. the grip he has on your waist is firm, fingers pressing deep into your flesh, keeping you still, making sure you see exactly how much of him is about to disappear inside you.
“look at that,” he murmurs, lilted by something dark and pleased. “gonna fit all this inside, yeah? stretch that little cunt open real nice for me?”
your breath shudders in your throat. the weight of him, the sheer size, sends a pulse of heat through you, thighs trembling where he holds them apart. he presses his cock higher, smearing himself over your navel, dragging slow just to watch the way your stomach flexes beneath him.
simon's fingers tighten at your hips, anchoring you in place. his eyes flick up, locking onto yours. “still want it?”
you can’t nod fast enough, hands fisting in the hard muscle of his shoulders, your pulse drumming against your ribs. “yes-”
he huffs a quiet laugh before shaking his head. then he moves, his hands shifting to your waistband. simon doesn’t take his time, doesn’t tease— just yanks your shorts down in one rough motion, shoving them past your thighs, tossing them aside like they’re nothing.
your panties are soaked through, the thin fabric clinging to your skin, darker where arousal has seeped into it. his gaze drops, and he groans, fingers flexing against your thighs.
his eyes practically shine as he reaches down, hooking two fingers into the waistband, pulling the fabric to the side instead of taking it off completely. “how long have you been sittin’ here all wet for me, huh?”
then, without warning, he lifts his cock and slaps it against your cunt. the obscene sound echoes between you.
you jolt, a sharp gasp catching in your throat. the weight of him presses down, drags over your swollen folds, smearing your slick along the length of him, leaving him just as messy as you.
simon's breath hitches, jaw going tight for a moment before he grins. “feel that?” he rocks his hips, slow and deliberate, the ridge of his head catching against your clit with every motion. “soaked for me. filthy girl.”
he keeps at it, rutting through your folds, dragging his cock against you in long, teasing glides. every lazy roll of his hips spreads more wetness between you, slick growing messier, needier, your arousal coating every inch of him.
his voice drops lower, almost awed. “you always this wet?”
you shake your head. you're not even sure why you're this wet. it’s obscene, every slow slide of him making a sticky, wet sound, the kind that makes your face burn with embarrassment.
his grip on your thighs tightens. he presses against you harder, lets his cock drag through the mess, smearing it everywhere, making it worse.
“just for me then?” he asks, watching the way his cock glistens, slick with everything you’ve given him. “i kind of like that.”
he lines himself up, pressing the thick, leaking tip against your aching entrance. he lets it catch there for a second, teasing, before dragging it up one last time, rubbing against your clit, watching you twitch beneath him.
then he settles back down, pressing again, the heavy weight of him poised to sink inside.
his eyes flick back to yours. “gonna let me in now, yeah?”
the first push is a mistake. he realizes it the second you tense up, sucking in a sharp breath, thighs trembling where they’re spread over his lap. his cock barely breaches you— just the tip, barely an inch— and your body locks up, refusing to take more.
simon grits his teeth, hands firm on your waist, trying to ease you down, but you’re too tight, squeezing around him like you’re trying to push him out. the head of his cock throbs where it’s barely inside you, thick and unyielding, stretching you too much, too fast.
he exhales through his nose, slow and measured, and tries again. rocks his hips, nudging deeper, letting you feel the weight of him pressing in. but you whimper, body trembling, nails biting into his skin. your walls clench down hard, resisting, and—
he stops. groans, and drops his head back against the seat.
"jesus christ." his palm drags over his face. "knew you were tight, but- fuck. you’re not gonna take me like this."
your face burns. your throat aches. frustration coils hot in your chest. "i’m sorry-"
"oh, sweetheart." simon's hands slide up your back, rough palms smoothing over your skin before he leans back, head tilting, eyes flicking over you. half amused, half exasperated. "you apologizing for having a cunt this tight?"
you sniffle, shifting in his lap, arousal sticky between your thighs. "but i wanted to-"
"you will." his voice is steady, calm, but his grip on your hips tightens. "just gotta take my time, yeah? don’t want you cryin’ when i finally get this cock in you."
you sniff again, blinking up at him, vision blurred, lips parted. "too late."
he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "fuckin’ hell."
then his hands are moving again, trailing lower, fingers slipping between your slick folds, pressing in slow.
you jolt at the touch, a sharp, wrecked little sound catching in your throat. simon groans, watching the way you twitch in his lap.
"fuck, baby. so sensitive. all worked up and nowhere to put it, huh?"
you nod, heat crawling up your neck, hips jerking as he rubs slow, lazy circles over your clit. his fingers are thick, rough, dragging through the mess between your thighs, teasing, pressing just enough to make your breath stutter.
"s’not fair," you mumble.
"life’s not fair, sweetheart." his fingers press in again, pushing deeper. one first, stretching you open, curling inside. then another. then a third. his other hand stays on your thigh, keeping you spread, holding you open so he can watch the way you take him.
"gotta get you nice and open." his voice low and warm. "don’t want you breakin’ on me just yet."
you whimper, rocking into his hand, clenching down around his fingers. your clit throbs under his thumb, swollen and aching, every slow grind of his palm sending another shudder through you.
"shh. just let me do this for you, yeah?"
you do. trembling, gasping, grinding down, taking everything he gives until you’re loose, slick, ready.
when he pulls his fingers out, you whine, walls fluttering around nothing.
then his cock is back, pressing against your entrance, thick and hot, teasing for only a moment before he pushes in—
you take him.
the stretch is unbearable. every inch forces you open, slow and deliberate, the thick drag of him pressing deeper than anything ever has. your breath stutters, body shaking, thighs trembling where they rest over his.
"fuck, sweetheart," he groans, voice tight, hands gripping your hips, keeping you still, keeping you from pulling away. "you feel that? squeezing me so fuckin’ tight."
you do. every ridge, every vein, the slow, impossible push of him splitting you open, inch by inch, pressing deep— then he stops.
breath stuttering, you blink at him, dazed, confused, still so empty. "w-why-"
"baby," his voice is almost pained. "m’pressing right up against your cervix. can’t go any deeper."
but it’s not enough. you whimper, hips twitching, shifting to take more, to sink lower. "but i still feel empty, si.."
his jaw clenches, fingers digging into your thighs, trying to keep you still, stopping you from punching a fucking hole through your guts. "jesus, sweetheart. you don’t know what you’re askin."
"please," you breathe, eyes glassy, desperate. "si, please, want all of you-"
he groans, head dropping back against the seat, restraint hanging by a thread. "fuck."
then his grip tightens, and before you can say another word, he forces you down the rest of the way.
"oh-oh my god-" your whole body shakes, a strangled moan ripping from your throat as the thick head of his cock breaches your cervix, slipping into your womb, stuffing you full.
simon grunts, the squeeze of you making his vision blur for a second. "jesus fuckin’ christ."
the moment he bottoms out, your walls clamp down, fluttering, pulsing around him— the pleasure snaps without warning, white-hot, rolling through you all at once.
"fuck- fuck, baby." he curses, the squeeze of your cunt almost painful. his half-lidded eyes are trained on where the two of you connect, the way you gush around him, soaking his cock. "just from takin’ me all the way? filthy fuckin’ thing-"
he huffs a rough laugh, fingers flexing against your hips, appreciating the extra slick easing the way. "makes it easier, at least," he mutters, then starts to move.
it’s slow at first— just enough to let you feel it, to make you ache through the thick drag of him pulling back, just enough to let you whimper at the sheer pressure of his cock pressing against every swollen, overstimulated inch of your cunt.
but you’re already gone.
your lashes flutter, your lips part around soft, wrecked little sounds, your hips twitching even though he’s holding you down, even though you’re already stuffed so fucking full.
"look at you," he murmurs, dragging a palm up your belly, pressing down right where he’s so deep, groaning when he feels the outline of himself inside you. "fuckin’ cock-drunk already, sweetheart?"
you sob, thighs squeezing around his waist, hands grasping at him, trying to find something to hold onto as your hips jerk, rolling forward mindlessly, instinct driving you to take more, take everything.
he groans, gripping your jaw, tilting your face up so he can see all of it.
"can’t even talk, can you? too fuckin’ dumb to think straight."
"s-simon-"
"what, love? too far gone already?"
his smirk is wicked, his grip tight as he presses his hips up, spearing you open all over again.
you scream, body jerking, back arching, thighs trembling around him. "ohh- oh fuck-"
"there we go." his voice is full of praise, full of something dark and indulgent. "there’s my good girl."
he sets a slow rhythm, dragging his cock out until only the thick head is inside you before slamming all the way back in, spearing you open, making sure you feel it, making sure you take every inch.
"bloody hell," he mutterd, feeling the way your walls squeeze him, the way you shudder, the way you drip around him, slick gushing, soaking his cock, ruining his seats.
"listen to that, sweetheart," he groans, shifting his grip, spreading his knees just a little wider to pin you in place. "fuckin’ mess you’re makin."
he glances down, eyes nearly rolling at the sight— your cunt stretched wide around him, slick dripping down to his balls, pooling beneath you.
"christ, love." he has to gasp for breath. "fuckin’ leaking all over me- ruinin’ my fuckin’ truck-"
"s-simon-" you lose your train of thought, babbling incomprehensible strings of words.
"can't think?" simon's grin sharpens. "good. don’t need you thinkin."
𖠳 seeing their wanted poster in your room ! + LUFFY, ZORO & SHANKS (part one)
𖠳 t/cw: 4.9k words oops, fluff, crack, pre-relationship, f!reader, cussing, canon-typical backdrops, pining, it’s implied that you both like each other, flirting, not proofread :'( i cringe at myself, shy! shy! shy!
𖣓 LUFFY
your cabin is pretty spacious despite sharing it with nami and robin. you each have your own spaces, your own corners of the big room that you’re all able to personalize. you’re on the outermost corner, a big closet between you and robin’s bed because they had to move things around the room a bit when you joined.
you picked your favorite colors for the sheets, you have your own side table with things and trinkets that screams you, and you even have a wall to decorate because your bed is against it.
you have a little secret, though...
on the corner of the wall, very much near the headboard already, luffy’s latest wanted poster is plastered. you specifically placed it there so you could easily cover it up with the big plushie that sanji got for you, before because it apparently “resembles your sweet, angelic face,” when needed be.
you tell yourself it’s admiration, putting up your captain’s poster, the man who saved your life and countless others, the man who liberated wano, with three billion berries, it’s only proper you do it, right?
well, okay, maybe you do have a little crush. so what? luffy is cute, charming, adorable, but still very manly. he’s super strong and very jolly, always lighting up your mood.
he also has a habit of just randomly barging into your cabin, never learning from nami's countless attacks on his head every time he does it.
you were alone in the room as of the moment, nami and robin are in the library, reading and working on their respective projects, so you were free to do what you want, which is why the plushie you use to cover is the one you’re currently hugging.
you’re seated on a stool and looking over the window, admiring the pretty sky, when the door suddenly bursts open that it almost made you topple over.
“Y/N!” luffy’s scream reverberated across the cabin.
“jeez, luffy, don’t we always tell you to knock?” you answered, standing up and replacing yourself with the plushie on the stool.
“shishi, sorry, i was excited!” he answered with a big smile that seemed to be permanently plastered on his face. “come outside and look at the fish i caught with usopp.”
he continued walking to where you stood.
“hmm, okay, let me just fix my—” your eyes widened, immediately running to your bed which certainly caught his attention.
“what’s wrong?” he asked as you fuss over your bed, hiding the poster with the plushie properly.
“huh?! nothing,” you said, putting on a cheerful voice as you come up to him. “come on, show me the big fish!” you urged with a gentle push to his chest.
“i didn’t say it was big,” he said into your ear.
“huh—” next thing you know, his arm is extending and grabbing the plushie out of your bed. “shit!”
he threw the thing across the room and bolted to your bed, digging his hands on your bed to get a closer look.
“whattttt?” he said, tilting his head in confusion. you were quick to his side, trying to pull him away.
“luffy, it’s just—”
“it’s me,” he looked to you with a smile. “but why am i on your wall, though?”
“uh-” you tried coming up with an excuse but you couldn’t think of anything. “uhm, i... i just wanted.. to?”
he straightened up and stared at your face without saying anything, you couldn’t even meet his eyes, in return.
“so are we gonna look at the big—at the fish, now?”
he laughed and suddenly placed his hat on yours, and that action made your heart beat so fast you thought it would come out of your chest.
“yes, let’s go and see the big fish,” he grabbed your hand as he said it. “i’ll tell sanji to cook it and maybe you can sit with me later at dinner?”
you looked at him through his straw hat, hoping it would hide the blush on your cheeks. “sure, luffy.”
“good.” he patted your head in his own gentle way and dragged you outside the room with an even bigger smile than when he came in.
𖣓 ZORO
“nami-swannnn~ we’re running out of food supplies, we might have to dock at the nearest island to restock.” sanji said, placing a tray of drinks on the table before winking at you to which you just rolled your eyes off with a smile.
nami raised an arm to look at the log pose, “hmm, okay, there is an island near here that we could probably reach in an hour or two.”
“y/n-channn, do you want to come grocery shopping with me?” sanji asked with the biggest puppy face before suddenly stumbling forward.
“wh—you fucking marimo!” he suddenly changed demeanor, glaring at zoro who walked past and probably bumped into him on purpose.
“didn’t see ya,” he said in the most monotone voice. “one eye.”
“shut up, both of you.” nami said as she stood up. “do you wanna go down later for the restock?” she asked, turning towards you.
“uhh, sure, i don’t mind!” you chirped, sipping on your drink.
“okay, well, for one, sanji’s not accompanying you,” she said, squinting her eyes at the man. “because he almost run the budget dry last time buying useless things for us girls.”
“ah- bu- nami-swannnn!”
“you go,” she pointed at zoro as she started walking away. “i gotta inform franky and jimbei about our new course.”
sanji angrily turned to zoro, “you make sure to watch over y/n-chan properly, stupid moss head!”
“eat shit, number four.”
“why, you—”
“can you make me a sandwich, sanji?” you suddenly said, eager to prevent yet another bickering between the two.
“of course, beautiful!” he dashed to the kitchen quickly, almost forgetting about zoro’s existence. you sighed in relief.
he looked at you for a moment, and you looked back at him but turned your attention to your glass just as swiftly.
“hey,” he started, caressing the hilts of his swords as he stood a few feet away from you. “do you remember last time, when we docked on that little island and had to fight marines? you offered to wash my bandana afterwards.”
your eyes widened, “oh, god! right, i haven’t returned it yet, sorry! i forgot.” you quickly stood up from your seat, spilling your juice a little.
“it’s okay, don’t panic,” he said. “but it’d be good if i could get it before we dock later, might need it.”
“of course, i’ll get it now! do you wanna come?”
he seemed surprised at your question that you almost took it back but he started walking slowly, you smiled as you went ahead of him towards your cabin.
you nibbled on your lip and felt awkward but opened the door to the room nonetheless, “well, come in, i’ll look for it, hold on...”
you made a beeline to the closet while zoro slowly paced the room, looking around. when you didn’t find it there, you looked at the vanity table and opened all its drawers and it still wasn’t there, you dashed to your bed, pulling down the neatly arranged pillows and you barely spared a glance to even realize there was a picture of the man inside your room on your headboard, hidden behind the pillows.
“ugh, im sorry, i can’t remember where i put it.”
you turned around and checked on your bedside table, not realizing zoro had frozen in place, just a few inches behind you and looking right at your headboard.
“oh my gosh, where is that thing!” you glanced at zoro and you had to do a double take when you realized he’s just motionless there, you followed his line of sight and immediately went into panic mode.
“oh, gods!” you scrambled, piling all your pillows to cover up the spot on your headboard. you could feel the ringing of your heartbeat so loudly in your ears. “ha ha! uhm, i think i might have left your bandana in the laundry basket!”
you stood awkwardly, tucking a stray hair behind your ears agonizingly slow and staring dead at the floor. it was quiet for a couple of seconds—though it surely felt like a lifetime to you—before his snicker broke the silence.
“one billion berries...” he murmured, adjusting his posture to take a good look at you, who’s still looking down.
“one hundred eleven million...” you added in a quiet voice, making him laugh heartily as he began walking towards you.
he placed his fingers under your chin to lift your face up but you quickly turned away, so he squeezed your cheeks and turned you straight at him. you couldn’t look away anymore so you squeezed your eyes tightly to avoid looking at his face.
he just sniggered at your actions, “are you a bounty hunter now?”
“mmhmm,” you nodded, clawing at his arm to take it off your face but he’s obviously much stronger than you are.
“i’ll watch out,” he whispered, and you can smell a whiff of booze coming from him. you cracked open one eye to peek and find him looking down on you. he couldn’t hide his smirk even if he tried, finally letting go of your face.
“let’s go find my bandana, pirate hunter.”
you couldn’t resist pushing him from behind for what he did to you but you couldn’t hide your smile either.
𖣓 SHANKS
shanks listened intently to what benn was telling him, something about one of their territories. lucky roux passed by with a tray of one of your favorite foods and suddenly all his attention went to you.
benn could see it as broad as daylight—how his eyes seemed to have clouded over with something akin to adoration, his mind wandering away, a smile slowly forming on his lips—and he just sighed, taking a puff of his cigarette as he leaned back on his chair.
“where ya takin’ that, roux?” shanks asked jovially, standing up from his seat and making his way towards him.
“oh, captain! d’ya want some?” he said, offering him the tray.
“nah, but i’d know who would.” he answered, inspecting each delicacy closely with a grin on his face.
“ahh, i was actually looking for her, she ain’t with you, boss?”
“haven’t seen her since breakfast,” shanks replied. “would ya mind if i take these to her?”
“of course, boss! lemme know if she likes it.”
shanks took the tray with a smile, making his way to the direction of your cabin, passing by an amused benn beckman on the way.
he walked swiftly, taking the time to ask every crew member he passes by if they’ve seen you. they all answer with a no so he walks with purpose to your cabin, pausing a bit to peek at the small, circular window on your door to check if you were there. he smiled as he sees you, brushing your hair in front of a mirror. he knocks three times and steps back so you can’t see his face.
the door opened and his smile grew wider at the sight of you.
“captain?”
“y/n,”
you both said at the same time.
“hah, brought you these,” he raised the tray a bit. “lucky roux wanted you to taste them.”
“urgently,” he added as an afterthought.
“urgently?”
“new recipe, i think, wanted to know your thoughts immediately ‘cause you go through these like oxygen.” he lied without a stutter, grin unfaltering.
“ahh, well...” you smiled sheepishly, you really do love those things. “you can come in, captain.”
he didn’t need to be told twice, he went inside your room and took a look around, following you to the vanity so he could place the tray down while you put the hair brush back to its place.
you took a closer look at the food, holding one in your hand and inspecting it since shanks mentioned it was a new recipe. shanks paced around the room, until he stumbled upon your bed, while you enjoyed a bite of the treat.
“wow, this tastes so go—”
“you hung my poster on your wall?”
a beat.
“what?!” “HAHAHA!”
you dropped the food on the floor, scattering crumbs across the rug, but you couldn’t care less, you ran to your bed immediately and ripped the poster.
“captain—”
“aww, y/n, why did you take it off? i like it.” he said with a smile, it sounded so genuine that it made you falter but you crumpled the paper on your hand behind your back.
“haha! that was nothing captain,” you said with a tight-lipped smile, taking a step back.
“it’s fine, ya know?” he started inching towards you so you continued backing away, until you hit your bedside table, your lamp hitting the wall behind it. shanks was quick to grab the paper from behind you, tugging it from your hand, his chest directly almost colliding with your face.
you fought the tug war for probably five seconds before he successfully managed to steal it from you. he shrugged the paper to ease out some creases and held it up.
“would ya say i look good in this picture, y/n?”
you stared at the door behind him, pursing your lips.
he looked at you and cackled, throwing away the paper to your bed to gently grab your face. his palm felt warm against your cheeks, or maybe it’s because you were blushing profusely.
“did you put my bounty here ‘cause im your cap’n or is it because you think i’m handsome?” he asked in a calm voice, but you can literally see him smirking. “i’m almost 40 now, sensitive age.. i’d prefer the latter, hm?”
“it’s..” you took a deep breath, closing your eyes, but he placed his thumb on the other side of your face to hold it stably and shook it, causing them to open with a glare. “don’t do that!”
“it’s what?” he puckered your lips even more and inches his face closer to yours. if you gave yourself just the tiniest push, you’d be kissing him.
“heow en i schpeak if youwe howldin me lie this?”
he laughed loudly at your words, letting go of your face to run a hand on his face.
“you’re gonna put up your senior officers’ posters up here, too?” he asked, tilting his head.
you pursed your lips again, then shook your head.
“good girl, it should be just me, yeah?” he ruffled your hair before going over to your vanity table, making himself comfortable on your plush, velvet chair.
“i was lying about these being a new recipe, by the way,” he said, pointing to the tray. he grabbed the first thing he saw on your table. “so... what does this do?”
you couldn’t contain a giggle seeing him holding up an object that is so clearly foreign to him, and with that stupid expression on his face (still very handsome), you began walking towards him.
“hang on, i’ll show you.”
[embarrassed] first post, omg! 😅 sorry if this isn’t so good, i just wanted to test the waters because it had been quite some time since i last wrote something, which is also why i went with my fav characters first! anyways, i hope this isn’t so rough <3 lmk your thoughts :]] baiii
p.s. the one piece banner’s mine so don’t use it ˃̵ᴗ˂̵
synopsis: you are an intern at a women's magazine who has been sent to convince a writer of a proposal.
warnings: fem!reader, reader is a 22 years old college student and an intern (and quite of a loser), implied age difference.
wc: 1.306
an: hi! this came to me suddenly and I simply wrote, before I loved nagumo, dazai already had me completely 💔 I miss both of them who barely appear in their respective mangas. I would like to thank you all for the repercussion of forty one winks, yay!
The first time (Y/N) saw Dazai Osamu was at a party.
It was a chic setting, with women adorned with makeup and jewelry and men with polished smiles, all very artificial. (Y/N), just an intern, was an intruder in this sea of perfection. The young student's boss, Mrs. Agatha Christie, was an incredible woman, the director of a women's magazine, and a genius with a terrible temper. For some reason, this woman had sent (Y/N) to this party to get some information out of Dazai Osamu or convince him of something. There was one detail: she didn't describe what the man looked like.
In fact, no one knew what Dazai Osamu looked like. He publishes scientific articles on all types of art, from classical literature to being a rock singer who reached the top of the Billboard charts. But even so, he still takes time out of his genius to write advice for lonely and needy women, and he does it masterfully, taming several readers with just kind and slightly seductive words.
Many women believe he's actually a woman too because he's so adept at handling the feminine, but Mrs. Christie knows who he is, and while she didn't describe his appearance, she said (Y/N) would know it upon entering the party.
The young woman breathes in a daze due to the presence of snobbish people and the strong smell of alcohol, which she's not used to. She walks awkwardly through the crowd, clutching the folder of papers tightly in her arms as a way to stay in the present, until she reaches the bar with difficulty due to her heels and black dress, which her boss had forced her into with a threat.
The bartender asks if she wants anything, and she mumbles a shy no, looking around for male figures, finding only old men, married men, obviously gay men, and men who looked like they didn't even know how women work.
She sighs, tired from the busy day she's had at college and the last-minute assignment she was given at her internship. Just as she prepares to sink into typical college student depressing thoughts, she hears a throat clearing next to her, catching her attention.
A man. A man unlike any she'd ever seen before stood beside her. Tall, with slightly wavy brown hair framing his delicate yet masculine face. There was warmth in his chocolate eyes and a slight, teasing smile on his slightly red-stained lips. He'd already kissed someone that night.
(Y/N) gasped at the sight of him. There was something mystical about the man, perhaps the confidence in his posture or his gentle yet mysterious gaze. Suddenly, she knew who he was.
"Mr. Dazai Osamu?" she whispered, not quite confidently, and his smile widened.
"Wow, Mrs. Christie really has a good eye for employees, doesn't she?" He let out a chuckle, which she couldn't tell if it was genuine or not.
After a few seconds of silence, (Y/N) realized she was making a fool of herself by staring at the man without saying anything and scratched her throat, embarrassed.
"I-I'm sorry, I'm (Y/SN) (Y/N), an intern at Hollow Magazine. Mrs. Christie sent me to offer you a job," she murmurs, opening the folder and placing the papers on the bar counter, originally designed for drinks. "It's about a new project; she thinks it's a great fit for you," She adds as he reads.
His gaze as he reads the papers went from gentle to calculating, with a slight coldness, like a true professional. (Y/N) couldn't help but look at him with admiration. She wasn't familiar with his work at Mrs. Christie's magazine, but she had read his articles on Dostoevsky, and even his article on the musicality of Nakahara Chuuya, and it wasn't hard to recognize that the man is an artistic genius.
His calculating gaze moved from the papers to the young woman's face, scanning her body with a slight frown. "How old are you?" he asks softly, but with a serious tone.
"I'm 22, sir," she says quietly without question, and he nods, thinking for a moment and resting his face on his hand.
"You don't read my work, do you?" he asks again, and she swallows hard, looking away briefly to think about her answer and say it without stuttering.
"I confess I don't read your column in the magazine, but I know your articles and doctorates on literature, classical and contemporary music, and abstract art." She says slowly, trying not to sound like a fan, and he lets out a soft laugh.
"Oh? And what's your favorite?" He tilts his head, watching her with interest and a charm that makes her blush. It's not just his looks and intelligence that make her uneasy, but his posture and voice almost overwhelm her, leaving her frustrated that she feels this way about a man she doesn't even know.
"What is it, sir?" he asks curiously, and she smirks, appreciating her behavior and the fact that she visibly respects him.
"Your article on Crime and Punishment and calculations of the length of a sentence, relating to the criminal justice field," she says quietly, and he smiles.
"Hmm, then I think I should take your opinion into account," he murmurs, gathering the papers and organizing them perfectly. "Your boss wants me to host a podcast, on the same topic as my magazine column. Chatting with various women, offering advice and things like that." He explains to her as if she were a little child who doesn't understand a thing. "However, there's just one small factor against that, my dear."
"Let's just say I'm not interested in this job," he says with a dramatic sigh. "Generally speaking, I have no interest in working for Agatha. I only joined her magazine because of a favor she did me many years ago, do you understand that, young lady?" he asks, and she nods, questioning the age difference between them. "So, what do you think? What's your opinion?" He smirks, leaning closer to her.
"I-I... I believe you should do what you think is best. You shouldn't put yourself in a situation that makes you uncomfortable." She murmurs, looking away, and he chuckles.
"Oh, really? But don't you think a podcast with me as the host would become very famous?"
"Yes, it would, but that could compromise your privacy, wouldn't it?" she asks softly, and he smiles. "Forgive me for saying this, but you're very handsome and charming. If you were famous, women would be crazy about you." — She blushes and he laughs.
"Oh... no, that doesn't offend me, dear." He wipes away a tear as he laughs. "And actually, you're right. I already have a few stalkers without being famous, imagine if I were?" He laughs harder, and she feels something warm inside her.
Calming down, he watches her with a serene, more genuine look than at the beginning of their conversation. "You know, you're a good girl," he murmurs, and she blushes, cursing herself for being a pervert. "I hope Christie doesn't scold you because I rejected the proposal, but she did the right thing by sending you to talk to me," he says calmly, handing the folder with the contract to the young woman.
The girl blinks a few times, taking the folder back, slightly confused. "What do you mean?" she asks, and he gets up from the bar stool, leaning in and bringing his lips to her ear.
"Well, you're exactly my type," he whispers, placing a light kiss on her cheek, making her blush completely.
He pulls away and laughs softly at her flushed face. "Good evening, Miss." He walks away, leaving her frozen at the party bar.
After a few seconds of shock, (Y/N) notices a Post-it note next to the folder he handed back.
