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requests r open please help me write again im having a block

[yourmessagehasbeendenied]

~WEEKENDS

tw; chubby!reader, fluff, suggestive language, cursing, husband!simon, bubbly!reader, scary!simon, AU.

Simon was a big rough man. But he tried his hardest to not be it for you, and that's why you loved him. You two were polar opposites, and everyone saw it. Simon didn't go outside a lot, he was very anti-social and worked from home. No one ever really saw him, they only heard about him from you, really.

Because of that - you were the one doing the shopping and doing most things for the house. He did help out a lot, especially with cleaning places. But you were much more social because of that, you met a lot more people. And Simon was just happy he didn't have to deal with them. You recently took a liking to a certain shopping place, it sold everything you liked and needed for the house. It was a simple store, but you really enjoyed shopping there. So there you met a girl. Sophie, was her name. She was really sweet and you helped her find which aisle has the certain type of butter her husband loves the most, because she was trying to make him happy. You gladly helped and from then on- you two became friends. You two talked a lot and after a while, you even started going out together to hair saloons, manicures, everything. Simon didn't mind, he was happy each time you came home telling him about this "Sophie" person and how wonderful she was to you. You two talked a lot about your husbands. You always wore pink, and she was just more of a modern- dresser. She had a great style, but her eyes were always caught on how cute of dresses you were wearing. Shopping together, she speaks. "So how come your husband doesn't come outside that much?" She asked with a curious tone in her voice, to which you responded, "Oh, he's very shy. He doesn't exactly know how to treat people." She smiled at that. "Sounds very sweet." She said, and helped you pack your eggs in. Some time later - She invited you to a grill party and told you to bring your husband. You said you'd do your best to convince him. And after a lot of nagging and a few, "You can drink beer with the boys!" argument, he caved and gave in. He came with you to the store that day, because you two bought some wine to bring to the grocery store. That's where you ran into Sophie. Her eyes widened and she rushed over. "Hey Y/N! ..Who's that with you?" She asked, a little concerned. It wasn't common to see a 6'2 brute of a man follow around a girl who is 5'3. You smiled reassuringly. You spoke. "Hi, Sophie. I'm happy to see you! This is my husband, Simon." You said, and you wrapped both your arms around your husband's. Safe to say, it was.. A scene. Watching the bubbly, sweet girl hug a big man who looks like he could kill with just a look. So THAT was the shy, helping and sweet man you were talking about? She smiled awkwardly. "I-i see. I trust I'll see you at the grill party today, then?" She asked and you smiled. You nodded your head and finished shopping. The grill party was awesome. You got to hang around your close friend and your husband Simon, also found his own company by Sophie's husband and his friends, who loved fishing just as much as he did. They did get drunk a lot more than you girls did- but that was just predictable. They laughed, and Simon even tried grilling on his own- but he burnt it.

Which resulted in him coming over to you, with almost tears in his eyes.

"The chicken trusted me… and I failed it."

He sobbed, and he buried his face in your neck. It was a remember-able day. Especially when you two went home and he threw himself on you in the bed, hugging you close, whispering, "Thank you for taking me there, sweetheart. I had so much fun today." You smiled and wrapped your arms around him. "I know baby, me too." You kissed his forehead, and he smirked. "We could make it a little more fun, if you know what I mean." You didn't get what he meant at first, but when you felt something start to poke you, you understood. And who would refuse?

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ive been thinking between two fanfictions. one is completely sweet and adorable, fluff with smut and its just a comfort thing. The other is about you and simon being toxic but still finding each other - girl interrupted themed sort of- suicidal thoughts and etc.

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SORRY FOR HOW MUCH I MAKE POLLS NOW

[yourmessagehasbeendenied]

~NEVER WITH YOU, CAN'T WITHOUT YOU

tw; angst, nsfw, mdni, heavy angst once again, toxic relationship, something i call a "boomerang" relationship.

Simon and you were something not many people understood, not many people got. No one knew why you always got back with him- but they didn't feel the way you did for him, they didn't know what it was like. The break ups you two had was harsh. Worthless calls, drunk fucked up texts, desperate gifts and desperate hearts. You wished for something different, a sign from god- that this wasn't the end.

A different ending, a different life, a meaning, anything. You begged for anything, prayed, wept for what could have been each, but it never was. It was for the best, you told yourself. You were miserable, and you hated it. Getting drunk almost every weekend, giving him drunk texts and calls - leading to one night stands and filthy promises of a "second chance," for the hundredth time you promised it would be different. Fucking him, and humping his thigh like you needed it for life- he kissed you like he wanted you. Like you were air, he needed you to breathe. Always the words, "You're mine," Never, "I'm yours" while pounding his hips against you- and it felt comforting, it felt hot, you felt taken care of. Rutting his hips against you and telling you how much of a "Filthy fuckin' slut you are," for him. All for him. "Ain't that right baby girl? Ain't that right, Yeah it is. Look at this cunt clenchin' me like it needs me to fucking breathe- exactly, go on you slut, slut for me, right? Just me, just me." He fucked you like he hated you, but treated you like he loved you, afterwards. Balance. It never was different. Never for you. You never knew how he felt, you never even saw him cry, never even saw him shed a single tear for you, it made you think did he really love you? You've had several break ups, you two always got back together, he belonged to you, that's the way it had to be. Your break ups got so common you expected a second chance all the time - always just knowing, that you'd go back to him in a heartbeat, or he would come back for you. So when you appeared at his doorstep for the last time - sober this time, your eyes were baggy, red. Your lips were swollen and you were flushed, and he.. showed nothing. "Simon. Can we stop this?" You started, and swallowed. You looked up into his eyes, opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. "No." A singular word that made your eyes widen, you weren't expecting that. You wanted to speak again, refuse to believe what you just heard- maybe he was just joking? But he spoke again. "This, was the last time. I'm not playing this game with you anymore, I'm tired of it. Go home, and move on." He said, and shut his door in your face without any emotions. So much for him telling you he loves you more. Drunk texts ended up on a blocked number- calls that were never picked up. Was it really the end? You couldn't believe it, you still loved him, you still cried over him. Spending weeks, days, months in your bed and barely doing anything, not going outside, not daring. Sunlight became a sickness, happiness became a distant hope- a distant want. He was your happiness. You drank alcohol, turned to what you promised you wouldn't, barely let anyone in - your hygiene was poor - non existent. Your hair was a mess, not being brushed in a week, your teeth neither, smoking cigarettes like it's a need. Depression. No hookups, no rebounds, no ways to cope with what had happened to you - with what he did to you. And the worst part was? You didn't even know if he ever cared. Was he pretending, just to keep you there until he got bored? It pissed you off, but you loved him. And god you denied and denied, denied denied until that was your personality, denying the truth. Your closest friends knew only, not even your mother could help, all you did was lay at home. They say time fixes things. Fuck that shit, because what the fuck did time fix? Nothing. 4 Months after that stupid fucking breakup and you still have nothing to show for it - you're still a mess- still chaos, still can't forget the way his lips felt against your soft tender skin. And how you got over it? Time had nothing to do with it. What did though, was a huge bottle of whiskey and a night out where you poured your heart to the first strange man you saw- and he told you, the most devastating sentence you wish you never had to hear. The most grieving and painful words that you'd ever heard,

"You want him to come back. He won't. He will never come back, Y/N. He doesn't love you." And it broke you. Broke you just to build you after - just to help you up and pick up the pieces putting it together like a puzzle. You slowly gained your confidence - motivation back, brushing your teeth again, brushing your hair, going outside. Shopping, cooking again instead of eating junk food. You stopped drinking and got your job back- not as good as before, but good enough. During breakups people tell you- "A few weeks after you get your life back together - he will fade, you won't remember him anymore." That was a lie. He was still in your mind all the time, seeing your favorite flower, the restaurant you always went to, his favorite foods, it all made you reminded of him. It all made you miss him even more, but you had to go through this. You had a goal, and you couldn't give up. But still you wondered each time, did he think of you, did he miss you? And then you were reminded of it all - of your relationship, and you told yourself he wouldn't. He doesn't miss you. He doesn't care at all. And maybe it was the truth afterall. ~~

"Earth to Lieutenant? I swear to god, LT, these past few months it's like you're in your own headspace. Can't even talk to you anymore," Soap chuckled, nudging Ghost. Ghost finally turned to look at his friend in the eyes. No one exactly ever knew what he felt, he always had a dead look in his eyes, never happy, never emotional. They never noticed. But this time? They weren't dead. They were full of emotions, - sorrow, could be mistaken for one who just lost someone to death, not they were the ones that were dead. His eyes were red, and Soap noticed, he swallowed. He didn't think it was that serious. His eyes weren't looking like he never felt happiness. No no, it was worse, his eyes looked like he felt happiness - and then it was killed in front of him. Like it was choked, stabbed, hung, shot to death. Broken, harmful. Soap knew why. Watching Ghost pack all of his pictures of you and him thrown out in the trashcan, broken picture frames and love letters burnt in the fireplace - He knew from the start. He spoke, looking away. "I Still don't get it, Lieutenant. You love her so much, why didn't you let her stay? Lass' came back to you, and you just told her no." Ghost's eyes darkened and he looked down at the floor. He grabbed the cup of whiskey in front of him- Tennessee, but it didn't taste good anymore, nothing tasted good anymore. "For her sake, Johnny. It was for her sake. Did you see how much better she's doin without me? Lassie is happy, I'm not, but god for fucks sake, I don't deserve to be." He said, and he poured the cup down his throat like it was needed. He slammed it down and poured himself another shot as he spoke. "I was holding her back. It's fucking killin' me Johnny, look at me. I always thought I was already dead, but It feels like I'm fucking dying. But look at my angel. Look at her, look at my pretty girl Johnny, she's shining better than she could with me. And fuck, if I could have her.." A tear fell down his face, and he sobbed the last sentences out. "She's all I ever wanted. I don't want anyone like her, I want her, I always wanted her. She's my damn way of life. But loving is letting go, and fuck love, but I love her. More than anything, I love her. And if she's better off without me," He cried now, and looked at Johnny. "I want her to have the best, and lord knows, I'm not it." Chugging the last cup of whiskey down, and he stood up, putting the empty cup down. "Headin' to sleep now." He said, and went to his room. Locked himself in and stared at the gun in front of him, debating. He cried for you, that night. And if only, he knew how you really felt. **HAPPY ENDING FROM HERE: DONT READ IF YOU DONT WANNA SEE.** ~~ 8 months. 8 Sad, miserable months after he last saw you. He still loved you, and you still loved him. You didn't contact, message or call at all - Until one day. You left him a voicemail. "For my dearest Simon. I still love you, more than anything I do. I will miss you always, I miss you now, the most. My life is successful and it feels incomplete- without you, without us. I love you forever, yours forever- Y/N." He broke that day. He sobbed to Johnny on how much he misses you too, for the first time breaking down - and he decided he was gonna make this right, change. Because you deserved better. So he's gonna be better, for you. When you two met up again, he greeted you with a hug. His girl was back in his arms, back with him, back for him. This time, at the coffee shop, he didn't say, "You belong to me," like usual. He kissed you, and you kissed back. Rubbing his palm that was on your cheek, and he whispered, "Y/N, I belong to you. Forever." And that sentence was the one engraved inside the ring he put on your finger, after 3 years.

A/N: Yeah I'm.. actually so sorry, I cried during making this I love you guys, I'm ABSOLUTELY sorry if the happy ending isn't your type its why I put a warning, but I needed it. also HEY, just a quick warning over here -

THIS IS A FANFICTION! I REPEAT, THIS IS A FANFICTION, DON'T GO BACK TO YOUR EX, IT ENDED FOR A GODDAMN REASON! HE DOESNT LOVE YOU, but in the fanfiction simon does

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OK SO GUYS

[yourmessagehasbeendenied]

~RIGHT WAY

tw; nsfw, cursive language, mdni, insecure!reader, heavylifter!simon, strong!simon might not be lore accurate, au, smut

He was a brute, and no one knew him. No one tried to get to know him either, he was intimidating - no one dared get close, other than the friends he already has had. No one exactly wants to get close to a man who has "murder" written all over his face. Except for fools.

And you were a fool. You had not much friends, not much experience with love, but you knew one thing - You'd do anything for him, just the way he'd do anything for you. Simon was a man who stuck to his vows- and his vow was to love you. The only problem was.. He didn't know how to. He loved you with his whole heart he just didn't know how to show you. And he showed it in ways that were different- other people would consider weird, maybe. But he wholeheartedly believed- he was soft. Maybe just.. Not in the right way. Simon's idea of love was to fuck you until you cry, to fuck stupid ideas out of your head. He gave comforting words, sure, but he much preferred fucking it all out of you. He hadn't had much relationships before you, so again, what does he know about love? Today was no different. Coming home from work, long day, and your boss was a bitch. You had been feeling insecure over the past few days, looking at him- looking at yourself. The difference was big after all, you wondered what people thought of you two when you were outside. You don't even yell, "I'm home," before throwing your shit down and taking your shoes off, walking to the couch to sit down. He heard the door slam shut though- and came outside. "What's wrong, sugar?" He asked, crossing his arms, looking at you up and down. That frustrated look on your face, the way your thighs were crossed and your back laid back- he already knew. You looked at the tv and said, "Nothing." Typical, he thought to himself, he wasn't expecting you to say it either way, but he was gonna get it out of you one way or another. After a little back and forth of no's and yes' - you snapped at him. "For fucks sake Simon, can you just fucking stop? I said nothing, get over it!" ... His eyes darkened and he stepped towards you, his voice lowered. "Is that how we talk, sweetheart?" He asked, his arms dropping to his sides. You swallowed, you fucked up. "Simon- I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry- Please- Listen-" "No, love. I'm tired of you being a goddamn brat today. I get you had a rough day, but shit, do you have to take it out on me? I'm just bein' nice, aren't I? Tryin to solve your problems and you get all snappy." He got closer to you, and leaned down. He grabbed you by your legs and picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom. He threw you down, and took off his shirt immediately, getting on the bed and on top of you. "Tell me love, do we need to do this every time you have a bad day? Get all that attitude, just to end up whining beneath me all the time?" He asks, putting one of his hands on your cheek. You look up at his face, and he leans in to press a kiss on your lips. "It's okay baby. We'll fix it." He said, unbuttoning your pants. He reached a hand inside your panties, toying with you- he knew you hated teasing. Only slight touches, he rubbed his hand through your slick folds and smirked at you. He was enjoying it, but he was gonna enjoy what was gonna come more. Because it wasn't you. You ended up completely naked in front of the mirror, whining, begging and crying, eyes teary and face all red, puffy. He loved it. He played with your clit and spoke, "What's wrong love? Can't take it no more?" He asked, and you shook your head. "Too bad." You were being edged for hours, and he didn't care. He didn't care you were dripping- He didn't care you needed it- because this was his punishment for you. "Simon- please, stop.. Please let me- I'm gonna explode- I need it, I need you.." You pleaded, trying to get him to crack, but not even your sweet little eyes looking into his would stop him. He wasn't gonna let you come. "You can beg better than that baby, you know you can. Come on, show me you're sorry, and maybe I'll let up, yeah?" He mocked, fastening his pace.

"Please- please- please please please please please, Simon, just let me.. I love you, I'm- I'm so sorry- I'll never talk to y-you like that again, I promise- I'm sorry.. Fuck, fuck fuck, please- Don't torture me sir.." Sir? That snapped his eyes open from whatever plan he got going. He smirked and kept going, not stopping this time. He smiled through it, talked you through it. "There she is, there's my good girl. There she is, she's back with us. Missed you so bad, baby. You were being such a brat, thought you got lost in there.." He smirked. You couldn't take it anymore, his thumb rubbing against your clit- his voice whispering to you, and the scenery in the mirror all together- just finished you off. You panted, heavily, and you knew your legs were shaking badly. You sat there for a while, letting your body calm down- and then you crawled to the other side of the bed for your pants but he stopped you. "Love, who said we were done yet?" This was gonna be a long night. So yeah, you weren't sure if this was the right way to love. But you sure as hell loved it.

A/N: rewriting this tomorrow cause i dont like it but i felt the need to post

[yourmessagehasbeendenied]

~LITTLE DEATH

tw; MDNI, nsfw content ahead, insecure!reader, chubby!reader, smut, masturbation, BTW IF YOU KNOW ME IRL NO YOU DONT SHUT UP

Were you living or just breathing? You couldn't decide anymore. It was fairly familiar to the older stories you read in books, except for one fact, - It didn't have a happy ending so far, no boyfriend or prince charming.

You considered giving up your life to be a nun, at that point. But you can't do that, cause you're not a virgin anymore. Though with the amount of experience you had? You could be considered one. People pretend they have happy lives for the sake of pretending, to keep up a facade, for some reason it's much more important than actually being happy. You weren't into that thing. You felt how you felt and always showed it, that was the good part about you. You've gotten the same thing your whole life. "No, you're.. A good friend, I just.. Wouldn't date you, in a million years." From all your friends. Until him, anyway. A strong military man as your neighbor? You bet your ass you were gonna drool over him. Who wouldn't? Those muscles, that mask you had a strange thing for, and the way he dressed, his silent nature, he was like the whole package! There was only one problem. You knew he would never go for you. Life was boring at all times. No boyfriend to keep you occupied, just a stupidly used vibrator and your hands. No sex, a dead-end job, minimum wage, and an apartment that wasn't exactly the best. Not that it was the worst, either, you couldn't exactly complain. You didn't see Simon around much, as much as you would've liked to. He had missions to go on, debriefs, he left for weeks, months. The only times you've ever seen him around was rare occasions, like holidays. But on a certain night, that changed. You were out at a bar, with your friends - figuring you could loosen up a bit. The clock hit midnight and figuring you wouldn't get laid anyway- you headed home.

And there he was, in the elevator, with you. But it was different this time around, you felt him looking at you. When you looked towards him, he looked straight into your eyes. Silence erupted the small elevator and it broke like glass being slammed on the floor when he spoke, "Your tits are half out in that. I wouldn't wear it again if I were you. I could practically rip them off of you with a finger." He said, and looked at you, still stared, like he said nothing to you.

And it flustered you. You haven't had sexual interactions with a man in years- how wouldn't it? You blushed, and tried to open your mouth but all that came out was a measly, "thanks" but what you were thanking him for? You had no fucking idea, and hoped he wouldn't ask. The elevator shortly after arrived and he went to his, and you went to your door. This was the first sexual sentence probably you've ever gotten from a man whom you actually find the most attractive, and it made you feel a certain way. So even if it wasn't with a man, you knew you'd have fun that night. All by yourself.

Or so you thought. ~~ Laying on his bed, watching the damn TV and trying to find at least one good show or movie to pass the time with, Simon was unsuccessful of finding anything worth his time, so he found the show he usually watched- Dr. House, re-watching for the 6th time this week.

Halfway through the episode, and he heard it. Faintly, more of a distant echo rather than something that's loud, but it caught his attention. It made him interested, it made him feel a certain type of way. Did he hear it right? Was he hallucinating things, too desperate? That's when he heard it again. Sweet. Honey-like, a fucking addiction that sound was, and in that moment he cursed the walls for being so paper-thin, where-as he could hear your moans. He felt like a fucking creep, listening and actually enjoying hearing the nice cute lady next door touch herself- but he couldn't help himself. He lowered the volume of the tv, only slightly so he could hear more - he figured if he could hear your moans, you could hear his TV. He didn't wanna make things suspicious - and he SURE as hell didn't want you to stop. He swallowed. He leaned up against the wall, and he felt pathetic for having his head back against it, listening to your moans, the vibration sound coming from your bedroom. And fuck, he hated it, he hated how turned on it made him- how aroused he was. He swore- he would just listen, there's no harm in that, right? But that idea was quickly ruined when you turned up the speed and moaned louder- figuring he couldn't hear or care- getting more confident. He started hating himself even more when he realized his cock was getting chubbed up just by the sound of your moans. Was he really gonna get hard over nothing? And especially over you? He can't help it. You sounded like a fucking pornstar, and that outfit you wore today just made everything worse. It made him feel so much worse, but he just couldn't stop his hands from reaching in, from reaching his boxers- and inside. He told himself- this isn't his fault, right? It's yours, yours and you should be punished, punished for reducing him to do this, for not making a move. But he was wondering, what the fuck were you imagining? But the thought made him angry- jealous, what if it isn't him? It made him feel strange. He brushed the thought off and listened to your moans, the rhythmic vibration- and he decided to match the pace. It felt more intimate, more deep- and it also made him feel like an absolute pervert, a dickhead, but it felt so good. He imagined you, your plump body, your tits, and how he would touch them. Hold you down, sit you on his lap in front of a mirror when he pounded inside you. Going faster. ~ Vibrations fastened up and your moans were louder than before, and as much as he started loving your moans more, he started hating himself more with each passing moment. Snapping out of it while touching himself- he swallowed and looked down at his body. "Fuck, what am I even doing? This is insane." He pulled his hands out of his pants, ready to button up- stop this madness because of his guilt. That's when the question in the back of his mind got answered- hearing it, faintly- but still his ears picked it up as the loudest sound. "Simon~" And all the guilt was suddenly forgotten when he practically gripped himself, he was sweating hard, blushing, did it suddenly get too hot in his room? Was it the air conditioning? He swore it was- he had to get it fixed. It definitely wasn't the fact he was touching himself to his sweet little neighbor who's the type to bring cookies and pretend everything is fine. He touched himself, to your rhythm again- to your moans. Imagining he was there with you- it made him feel less guilty knowing you did the same. Because fuck, he would love to be, he figured he'd just slam your door open in a few minutes to go over and fuck you himself- but he couldn't. He wasn't a creep after all, right? ..More like, not brave enough. Definitely a creep enough.

Your moans were heavenly for him. He couldn't hold it for too long anymore- he swore he almost came in his pants even when he heard you moan his name. He cursed under his breath, "Fuck, like a teenage boy," He whispered as he looked down at himself, entire body sweaty, red, hot. He should've stopped. He should stop. But he can't. "Simon, please take me. Please fuck me, please, please, make me yours, all yours-" God fucking damnit, was this a cruel joke on him? He swallowed. His hand worked faster than before and he was on his peak, when he tried to slow down- guilt creeping up again just slightly but not enough for him to care. He heard your moans, and he swallowed. Your begging. He wants to take you more than anything. He tried not coming in 5 seconds after that moan- and he was doing good, and that's when you fucked it up for him. You came. He heard you come- and he heard you scream practically. "Sir- y-yes, just like that! T-thank you sir!" You screamed like he was the one doing it to you, not the vibrator- and it fueled his god complex, his ego. He swallowed and that's when he hit. Head thrown back against the wall. He was breathing heavy, he was fucked up, sweaty, and his mouth fell open as he couldn't find an alternative fast enough to cover his own mouth, so he simply let it out. "Fuuuuuck baby, that's my good girl.." He came. It felt like death, like his mind was numb, like he was drowning. A little death - this was the hardest he's ever come. Silence, full on fucking silence- and for the first time he felt afraid. Did he fuck up? Did you hear him? Odds are you did, but if you didn't - he'll start thanking god on his knees. But even if you did, there was nothing he could do other than clean his own pants and the bed he made a mess on, and get ready for bed. He had a long night. And so did you. ~~ The next morning, you were in the elevator- coming home from buying groceries. Well, awkward, because he also was just doing the same and getting in. When he saw you go in he debated to just let the elevator pass and go on the stairs- but he realized that would just make it more awkward. So he swallowed and got in the elevator, holding his bag, while you held yours. He cleared his throat, staring at you up and down and looking away. This time you spoke, and it was like a knife cutting through the tension. "...So, rough night, huh?" He didn't even hesitate before he immediately without a second of breathing said, "For fucking sure."

A/N: yeah nah idk anymore, possible part 2 might be coming, also for my babies who dont know, just search up the meaning of little death, love yall