Simon Absolutely Detests Beaches, Pools Too. Any Water Source That Doesnt Come From His Pipes, Hes Not

simon absolutely detests beaches, pools too. any water source that doesn’t come from his pipes, he’s not going near. he’s kind of a cat in that regard.

but he always loves when you go to the beach. wearing a skimpy bikini and coming back with a tan, your face a bit red from the lack of sunscreen.

he’s always happy to greet you after a day in the water. a bit sandy and ready for a long shower.

-

guys i’m actually so terrible at posting consistently im so sorry. on a much brighter note: my bf proposed #>^<

hiii!!!

Can I request Hobbie w/ a gyaru gf, I can imagine it working with gyaru starting off as a rebellion against japan's beuty/ social standard <3

落ち着く？(calm down?)

(hobie x gyaru!gf)

warning: really bad translations!! i don’t speak japanese #sorry

a/n: technically, no gender is named in this. but it is DEFINITELY a fem fic. anyway: be who you want because at the end of the day, you're opinion is the only one that truly matters. #reqsopen #messageme #sorry this took so long my dad had surgery and i was stuck taking care of him but he's all good

ill provide translations dw

the stares weren’t unfamiliar, in fact, you embraced it. it came with having some semblance of a personality that these people clearly feared admired. you just wish yours, and hobie’s, appearance alike weren’t so abstract to the general public.

it's as if you were committing a war crime by having a tan. in japan, any difference from the norm is seen as an insult to those who surround you. truthfully though, that was why you began dressing gyaru in the first place.

conforming had never been your thing, especially when it came to how you dressed. you were always one to disobey even when you got a nagging grandmother in your ear.

"おじさんたちの前に姿をさらすことになる、" (cover up, you're exposing yourself to your uncles.)

a common phrase that plagues the minds of all young teens in japan. the idea that you need to cover up, instead of your uncles needing not to stare. she means well truly but it's just a showcase of how plagued the mind is of those who grew up and reside in japan.

"looking lovely as always my dear," his thick english accent coats your mind. a hand wraps around your shoulder.

hobie. at least you had one person that you could voice your woes to.

"hungry?" he asks as he stretches slightly. the two of you met in the heart of kawaramachi. a charming street that over looks a dazzling river. although you couldn't bring yourself to care in this moment.

you turn to look up at him, covering in diy piercings and tattered clothes that, even in london, are seen as trashy. although, he didn't seem nearly as bothered by the situation at hand. how people now adays sneer and turn away from any expression of a sense of self.

"いいえ, ぼくのおばあちゃん practically shoved fruit down my throat this morning," you say with a slightly exasperated tone. (no, my grandma practically shoved fruit down my throat this morning)

"wha's up, luv?" he say in a cool tone, but lying underneath holds a bit of concern for your, clearly annoyed, timbre.

"don't you think this is a bit bullshit?" you say looking forward as you walk side by side down the streets of kyoto. "like even a little," you say referencing the people who can' t seem to take their eyes off the two of you. like you're some zoo animal.

"wha? them people? don' pay attention to them. they're bloody barmy." he says, you're suprised he's missing the point.

you grumble at his words. "why do i have to be the one to ignore it. why can't they just not stare in the first place. we've got a myriad of tourist attractions and yet my makeup and clothes are the only things they can keep their fucking eyes on."

ordinarily, you'd wait to voice your opinions until you reach a more secluded area. especially since foul language is a more frowned upon subject. but today you felt like pointing out the issues with society. with the standards for women.

thin, fair skin, straight hair, minimal makeup.

pray tell you experiment with makeup. maybe wear a short skirt and vibrant colors. god forbid you wear anything revealing in public. may as well give your obaasan a heart attack the second you put any jewelry with color on yourself. (a commonly used name for grandmother, in japanese)

hobie hums and looks down at you. "you're really chuffed 'bout this aren't you dove?"

"you aren't?"

"im formulatin'" responds non chalantly. you take a deep breath. you knew you couldn't change the who world over night but if one person wouldn't gawk at you as you walked down the street that would be mighty nice. you lean into his side. "how 'bout we think how daft this is over a cuppa,"

you nod softly, almost undetectable to those who aren't paying attention to your every move. "do you get bothered by the stares?"

hobie looks up. considering his height, he practically towers over you and the rest of japan. his eyes scan the crowd, catching all the eyes that fall over him and you. he sighs.

"no' anymore," he says

"anymore?" you half expected hobie to just say no. to have always been as unbothered as he is now. to never have needed to learn the skill of ignoring the whispers and distraught stares that befall him.

he nods silently and leads you into a small restaurant. it smells of herbs and soup. a mix between sweet and salty. the scent of a tea immediately calms your nervous system. hobie slots the two of you into a corner.

"luv, i wasn't always li' this,"

"well i know, i just, you always seems so confident. like nothing gets on your nerves besides capitalism and those white dogs that are always barking." you say it semi sincerely but you smile when your joke earns a chuckle from hobie.

"you are a sight," he says glancing over you. it's a comforting feeling as he takes in your unique appearance. the tan you sport, even though it's nearing winter, and the colors too. almost completely neon, sans the animal print that you don on your boots.

he scans over your face. your eccentric makeup, all perfectly practiced and executed on your face. he grins.

"you 'on't need anybody else to tell you tha'," he says. "sure they might stare, but their opinion is rubbish."

you smile. it's rare you get hobie in such a state where he truly speaks from his heart. but you can't get enough. it's just you and hobie. at the end of the day, that's all you truly need.

pov: your boyfriend proposes to you in the middle of panic attack. hahahaha this happened hahahaha somebody help hahaha

boyf at the gym, he’s bringing smoothies back. i’m so winning

i’ve been thinking about it, why’d he propose on 9/11 😭

POV: you (trying to) baby-trap soap.

cw: breeding, dub-con/non-con?? leg-locking, idk what else. you’ve been warned

johnny’s hands on your hips as he fucks into your slick cunt, moaning and groaning above you. fucking the living hell out of you. the squelching noises bouncing off the walls while you moan so sweetly like candy. though you did lie about being on your birth control while fucking johnny, knowing he has a breeding kink. you just want his kid so bad! so why not fuck him when your ovulating and off those pills!!

you throw your head back, your legs thrown over johnnys shoulders. you huff and moan, writhing around. the pleasure being almost unbearable at the fact he’s almost hitting your cervix. sore from the bruising of his grip on the back of your thighs and sore from the tip of his cock hitting that sweet spot so well.

“fuck lassie. need’ya pussy so bad- need to breed ya’ pussy with ma’ loads.” he moans out with a whine. thrusting even harder with the pace he’s at now. you start to leg lock him, wrapping your legs around his waist and locking him in to not waste his cum. while locking him, you claw at his back. desperately trying to grip something and distract him from noticing how your leg locking him so intensely.

“lemme fill ya’ with ma’ babes lassie- please. need tae’ get ye’ barefoot and pregnan’ fer me.” he grunts out, slamming his hips against yours harshly. most likely to leave bruises in his way of fucking the living shit out of you. you nod your head at his words. “yes, yes! please get me pregnant johnny- want your babies so bad. promise you’ll give me your kids, promise me please.” you bet with the man, forcing him to make a promise with you while the pleasure starts to spike.

“i promise. i promise ya’. i’ll fill yer womb with ma’ babes, i promise you tha’. trust me, i’m dumpin’ my loads into ya’ as much as possible. forcing my loads inside your womb so you can give me some babies.” he rambles on. you moan loudly at every single word, grabbing at his shoulders and back. scratching him as you guys both get closer to the edge. a large wave pulling back and-

“fuck, give it tae’ me lassies, give me yer orgasm. c’mon, let johnny fuck his cum into ya’.” and that breaks you too pieces. legs shaking yet staying still as your leg is still locked around his waist. before he realizes he can’t pull out. “cannae’ pull out lassie- gotta-“ “no!” you say, tears rolling down your cheeks. “no, want you to come in me please. please johnny need to feel it.” you start to hump into him while he whimpers. nodding to you as you speak, beginning to thrust up into you to chase his orgasm.

the overstimulation consuming you as you go under, finally feeling the warmth of johnny’s seed inside your cunny. so you do is rest and lay numb in the bed. johnny rolls over, grabbing you and flipping you onto him. your feeling horribly tired from the rough fuck but right as you let sleep take you. you hear the words.

“i kno’ ya’ stopped taking yer birth control. don’t worry lass. i switched ‘em out for sugar pills anyways.”