LOTS OF YAPPING FROM SIMON. VERY MINIMAL DIALOGUE FROM READER.
kind of proof read?
word count: 1.4K
rivalking!simon, who you’ve hated for a very long time… well, that’s not entirely true… you used to be friends, just as your fathers used to be best friends—almost brothers, in fact—until your father grew greedy and wanted as much land as possible.
so he waged a war with simon’s father.
not the best idea. especially since it lasted 15 years.
you barely remember simon if you were honest, and you couldn’t even remember why you hated him. maybe it was because he was an egotistical asshole who still hadn’t given up this stupid war after almost 2 decades.
you hadn’t even seen him since the day your father waged a war with his father—that is until now, when you finally cornered him on the battlefield.
completely and utterly at your mercy after you slaughtered nearly his entire army.
to say that he had changed a lot would be an understatement.
from what you can remember, he used to be a scrawny, awkward teenager. but now? he’s just hulking mass of muscle—reduced to his knees at your feet—reluctantly begging for your grace as your blade poised against the vulnerable skin of his neck.
he looked pathetic.
especially when you saw that his face hadn’t changed after all of these years.
he always wore a helmet nowadays, but when you slipped it off after capturing him, you saw that his eyes hadn’t changed a single bit. you always loved that part about him—his eyes.
you found it quite endearing, to say the least, that even after he’d grown from a scrawny boy into a man covered in scars—with a nose that looked like it had been broken at least ten times and a perpetual five o’clock shadow lining his jaw—you knew you’d still be able to recognise him in a crowd.
you actually felt kind of…bad for him?…after all, he was the one who was so persistent on keeping the war going because he wanted to win.
but in the end he just had everything swept out from underneath him; stolen from him in a matter of hours.
so…you compromised.
you suggested that to keep his land, and parts of his power, he could be your prince consort.
and he was displeased, to say the least, when it was either that or be outcast and stay a peasant.
however, in your defence, you had to marry someone sooner or later, and it was either him or King Edmund—whom you were fairly certain fucks his sister.
you had a sharp tongue and that deterred a lot of your suitors, especially without your fathers assistance in keeping them around.
so the papers were signed, and simon didn’t even interact with you in the first month you were married.
he hadn’t even consummated the marriage yet!
not that you were complaining, but it would’ve been nice to know that you weren’t entirely repulsive to him.
yet he was always hovering somewhere, not directly next to you, but somewhere; especially when he’s observing your interactions with your household knight, and becomes extremely… intrigued?… with the dynamic you two share.
after some investigation, he finds out that you had in fact being fucking that knight for almost an entire year. to say that he was angry and shocked was a complete understatement.
after sitting on that information for a week, he decides to finally corner you about it…and by ‘corner’ he meant fuck you until you couldn’t think about anyone else but him…
he had you on all fours, with a meaty bicep curled around your neck, squeezing just enough so that you became lightheaded. his hips smacking against your ass, making sure you arch your back the right way so you can take him deeper and bear his sons.
“you thought i wouldn’t find out, huh?” he panted in your ear.
you whined in response—only mumbling out a petty plea shortly after when you could tell he wasn't satisfied
"please?" he mocked, the word a velvet-wrapped blade. "since when do you say please?"
"all you know how to do is take whatever you want without consequence," he scoffed out a laugh, "so since you're so desperate—", his hips lurched forward, "you can just take my cock instead."
every snap of his hips was a punishment and a reward, the wet slap of skin drowning out your fractured moans. he watched your nails bite into the sheets; felt the way your hole clenched around him like it was trying to keep him there forever.
"not so tough now, are you?" he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. "all that fire, all that defiance—gone in an instant."
"gonna make sure you remember this," he gritted out. "every time you sit on that throne."
"no one else gets to see you this way.”
"not the king of alvenia, not the king of astovia, not the king of goddamn anywhere."
his hand slid up your neck, gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at your melded bodies in the mirror that was beside your bed. "just me."
his abs were taught with pleasure as he tried to hold back on his impending orgasm—wanting to last as long as humanly possible because he wasn’t a teenager anymore. you could tell the sweat along his brow was starting to grow because even without the moonlight streaming in, it was becoming noticeable.
"do you want that?"
if you were honest, you were too fucked out to care, which is probably why you didn't answer.
that was until his spare hand collided with the front of your pussy, "answer me."
“m’so tired, si.” you mewled in protest, almost sobbing from the overstimulation.
“you’re almost there lovie, but you can’t come yet. ‘kay?”
you just weakly nodded. all you wanted to do was please him so you could finally get the relief you desired. but you suspected that before you even got to that point, he would just strip it away from you.
like he has for the past hour.
"i think you secretly like it. someone else making decisions for once…someone telling you what to do…being controlled…”
“you always work so hard. making decisions. leading everyone. no one's ever given you the chance to just…let go. to take some instruction for once."
your eyes were all of a sudden too bleary to even look simon in the mirror anymore. so, he just shoved your head back into the pillows, arching your back just right again.
"you like that idea, don't you?" he mused, voice thick with amusement. "being handled for once. no strategy, no politics—just feeling."
"let someone else take the reins while you drown in it."
his voice dropped to a breathless rasp against your ear as his thrusts grew quicker, chasing his own release without any concern for yours. "and i know you'd be happy like this. all soft and submissive. letting me take care of you for once. because deep down…you're just a princess who wants to be spoiled."
“si, i can’t—” you began to choke on your own moans as they grew louder and louder with every passing second.
"i know, i know." he reassured with a rough voice, "look at you...so loud for me, princess."
"i want everyone in the damn kingdom to hear who you belong to."
"you might be the boss during the day, but at night? this is my show."
the pace he set was relentless—not frantic, but calculated—each movement designed to wring every last drop of pleasure from you until you were boneless against him, utterly spent.
“there you go lovie, let go.”
his free hand slid up your spine, fingers threading into your hair just enough to tilt your head back so he could watch your expression, and the way your lips parted on a silent cry. when his orgasm finally crashed over him, it was with a sharp dig of his hips followed by small little jolts just to make sure his seed was embedded in your vacant womb.
even as he pulled out, he made sure your ass was basically vertical so that none of his load escaped, and when it did, he shoved it back in with his fingers.
“i hope you know, that this is all you’re going to be good for from now on...”
"…fucked out on my cock and taking my spend as deep as this pretty pussy will allow it.”
contents: no smut, just simon being an absolute creep towards reader, somnophilia IF you squint
stalker!simon, who lurks in ill-lit alleyways, prowls on corners near your house. protecting you from unwanted harm that weird creeps like him would cause.
he makes sure you’re safe at all times too. even if that means walking behind you, at a reasonable distance, when he’s not deployed, or on base.
there were potent signs that he was always present. you could often smell the light scent of nicotine and gunpowder in the air. imbedded into your sinuses like a bad cold that never leaves.
he succumbed himself to the discomfort of sitting in tight and uncomfortable booths when you’re out at clubs. examining everything minor detail around him, from the loud music to the eerie creeps who sat in the corners. waiting to pounce on their next victim.
which unfortunately was you.
he veered forward in his seat, watching how one man decided to approach you; the leather seating beneath him creating artificial squeaks as he shuffled impatiently.
you were so bubbly and happy to talk to him too, which made simon want to pummel that guy’s head into a brick wall until it turns to pulp.
until, he notices your entire demeanour shift—an uncomfortable grimace spreading across your face like wildfire as you finally caught onto what that guy’s real intentions were.
luckily, you fend off the man without any retaliation as he was one of the nicer lads out of the group.
that didn’t mean simon didn’t follow him out of the club 10 minutes later to have a ‘chat’ about respect (unrelated to you of course but thats not the point).
simon followed you the whole way home. like always. but tonight could be considered for a good cause.
the neighbourhoods real life ‘superhero.’
i mean... he was just looking out for you.
and he was loved by all of the old people. and single mothers…
he gently rocked the window of your room open a few hours later; the splintering wood creaking as it went all the way up to fit his large frame.
thank god, you were a heavy sleeper.
his gaze rolled over your form—supple, soft skin exposed as you lay splayed out on your bed.
a cool breeze set over your curtains, calmly blowing the ends of the fabric further into your room. he strode over to the side of your bed, pulling the covers over you to prevent the chill from accumulating.
he gently stroked a piece of hair out of your face, twirling it around his thick, gloved fingers before letting it go.
contents: no smut, mentions of blood and slaughter, decapitated head, simon being a cutesy hulking brooding 7foot husband, reader trying to defend herself and be accepted as a 6’4 viking but she’s just not like the rest of simon’s village :(, arranged nonconsensual marriage
viking!simon, who has a scowl on his face every time he sees you. being in an arranged marriage was hard enough, but to have your husband hate you every waking moment was just the cherry on top. you thought you were good enough, coming from the daughter of another powerful village, however according to some of the other villagers you were softer and daintier than they expected.
sure you were less bulky, but you were still on the taller side! just not as tall.
all of your thoughts came to a screaming halt when your village was in the midst of getting raided. the soft pads of your feet as they hit the rough bark and coarse dirt beneath you, were the only other noise except for the howling wails in the background, luckily for you they were slowly fading away.
you knew how to fight, and you wanted to, but simon didn’t let you. as soon as he saw you swinging an axe into an enemies skull, he stripped you of your weapons, and pushed you away while yelling at you to hide in the forest.
so here you were, running in and out of the deeply defaced trees, trying your hardest to not eat shit and stack it, over something stupid like a rock.
a quick look behind you was all it took for you to be tackled to the ground. the distraction left your organs squished, lungs winded, and completely helpless on the floor, writhing under what felt like a ton of bricks.
using the remaining strength you had left, you pushed the stranger off. or tried to. as they sat up, a knife was pulled out of their waistband, presumably to stab you or slice your throat.
you never knew thanks to simon who swooped in at a second to spare, decapitating them.
the head slid off of their neck, while sticky ichor gushed over your bare stomach; the draining, lifeless face took its time rolling onto the ground.
with a helping hand simon brought you onto your feet. blood, sweat and dirt smothered his blonde hairy chest, creating a mixture that was dripping everywhere, including over fresh wounds that adorned his skin.
contents: !!!NSFW MDNI!!!, unprotected piv, loss of virginity
bodyguard!simon, who angrily ruts up into you, huffing and puffing like a 3 year old throwing a tantrum; leaky tip hitting that sweet spot only he can reach like there’s no tomorrow. your drooling cunt hugged him tightly as he wrapped a fistful of hair around his hand.
something in him snapped that day.
he found out today that your father, the king, was looking into suitable prospects for you to marry.
“Fuck, princess…” he groaned into your ear, “This pussy is mine. And only mine, yeah?”
“Only you, Si.” you moaned drunkenly as he beckoned you into a sweet release. ruining your virgin cunt for your future husband, and any future experience for you :(
DO NOT READ MY POSTS, OR COME AFTER ME IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THE MATERIAL. I AM NOT YOUR PARENT, YOU ARE READING THEM AT YOUR OWN ACCORD. I DO NOT CONTROL WHAT YOU SEE.
WHAT I WILL REFUSE TO WRITE:
scat, golden showers/piss kink, period sex, rainbow kisses, foot fetishes, anal, fisting, feederism, vomitplay, transmitting or catching an STI/STD’s, self harm, suicide, ED of any kind, raceplay, necrophilia.
WHAT IM OPEN TO WRITING:
dumbification, age gap, power play, dacryphilia, somnophilia, fauxcest, severe sub/dom dynamics, bondage, non-con aka cnc, primal play/chasing, pet play (depends on request), daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, degradation kink, free use, breeding kink, lactation kink.
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contents: no smut, all fluff (kinda), mentions of divorce, mutual pining, slight angst with a happy ending.
husband!simon, who is gutted but understanding when you say you want a divorce. your relationship had taken a slow but scrutinising turn ever since you had your first kid.
the flame wasn’t there anymore, and you had gone into a depressive state due to the overwhelming pressure of having to take care of your daughter by yourself every time he got deployed to another country, then having to pray he would make it out alive.
ex-husband!simon, who moves out in a matter of days after the talk, going to a small local motel so you had your space. you are devastated at the loss of warmth on the other side of the bed. although it wouldn’t have been any different if he stayed, as you had both been isolating yourselves for a while.
he comes around every weeks to check up on you and your kid. making sure that everything was okay, which it wasn’t, but you had pulled yourself together to make sure you were there for her.
he still attended parent-teacher interviews/conferences, even though he didn’t have to, resting a loving hand on your thigh as your daughter’s teacher talks about how much of an amazing student she is.
you expected nothing of it as it could’ve just been a natural instinct from him.
like how he still wore his ring………. every day…
right…………
after dropping your daughter off at a sleepover, he decided to stay back and help out in the kitchen; passing dishes back and forth, making sure to add lingering touches, to see if they were reciprocated, or if he should stop. and you just ignored them for the time being, not wanting to give him the time of day due to the state he left you in.
but that didn’t stop him from ending up on your doorstep the night before the divorce is finalised.
“I’m not signing the papers.” He stated firmly.
Your brows furrowed at the sight of him on your doorstep this late at night; speechless, you just let out a scoff of surprise.
“What?” You asked him confused, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I’m not signing the papers,” He repeated, “I want to make this work.”
“You don’t get to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Waltz back into my life like it’s nothing,” You answered, “I wanted a divorce for a reason.”
“I’ll be better.” His gaze narrowed, “I’ll prioritise you and our daughter, I didn’t do a good job last time. But now? I’ll be there every step of the way and support you.”
“I won’t leave you in the dark again, and if you’re lost? I’ll be there holding your hand every step of the way, shining a light for you.”
Your gaze softened as he grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his chest.
“Please,” He whispered, “Can we try again?”
And just like that, the walls that you had built up to make sure you didn’t get hurt again, came crashing down.
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