I was wondering if you could do a simon x reader Renaissance fair one. Like reader is making sumon go but hasn't showed him her cute little outfit and while at the fair he gets jealous because a knight at the joust is filtering with her and back at the hotel he fucks her.
Sorry this is my first request like this
don't worry we all love to be horny don't we👀😘💝
This humongous bulky hulk of man.
How do you even get to the fair?
That too a Renaissance Fair???
"Si~ Just once, I'll promise we'll have fun!"
"No"
"Fine, then I'll go on my own", after all you weren't an independent, self made woman for nothing.
And that's the line which gets him convinced to come to the fair, since he hates letting you go anywhere alone, unless he’s sure of your safety.
Simon groans underneath his black mask, but for a completely different reason.
Your long gown of your favourite colour accompanied by those billowing detachable white sleeves, looking very flowy. The bodice of your attire accentuated your chest, almost spilling out your curvy boobs for Simon's eyes. The wide neckline displayed your entire neck and shoulders. So bad, Simon wanted to bite and suck on that soft flesh of yours.
"How is it?", you didn't necessarily think of this dress as revealing, since you liked it so much.
"Gonna wank off to this later when I am deployed"
That was the love of your life. Blunt. And very creative in his compliments.
As soon as you enter the fair, the foodie in you awakens to a different level. Mac' and cheese on a stick, artichokes, Scotch eggs- you left nothing behind. Meanwhile Simon indulged himself in the classic fish and chips with trying out absinthe for a change. However you stuck to mead, relishing its honey dewed taste.
Not to mention you were frolicking around with the mead too much, so eventually you got a bit high, just as Simon expected.
You both reached the joust, where there was a performance by the knights on the horses. But just like a little kid, something else caught your attention.
"Siiii~ Can I have the icy cold lemonade? My throat is parched"
"Nobody told ya to get tha' tipsy. Where's it?", tilting his head up to locate the shop in midst of sea of people near the fence of the joust.
"On the other side of the joust, Si"
"Stay 'ere. Don't go anywhere. Will back in a minute or two"
As Simon set off, you leaned too dangerously over the fence, enough to give someone a peek of the precious assets on your chest.
In your slightly drunk state, you cheered on among the similar crowd. That's what caught a guy's attention.
He was in the Knight costume, sitting upon a tall well built horse. He looked decent, as you saw him approaching you.
And soon that guy whirled up the conversation from the weather to your irresistible eyes, mouth, face etc but you were too tipsy to notice.The guy was leaning on the fence,as if he wanted to impersonate Romeo himself.
That's when your colossal brooding boyfriend towers upon this guy from behind.
You notice Simon and shoot a drunken glance at him, while the guy looked as is he shit his pants now.
And one look from Simon's dark eyes, the guy faltered and ran off like a scared cartoon.
But Simon had already seen how he was talking to you.
More like flirting shamelessly.
Simon always believes that you are not the kind to betray him, you would never even you know it, even if you are wasted enough.
But Simon loves to teach you a lesson from time to time.
That doesn't mean that he doesn't trust you. But he loves the fun of it, watching you obey him and be desperate for his touch and attention.
But at the end of the day he's the one truly whipped for you. Like a lovesick boy.
But he won't pounce on you now, even he wanted to. Simon always waits for the perfect timing.
He will let the fun and the high stir away a bit, that's his right time.
You were no less freaky. Alcohol made you horny no matter the amount you drunk. You were already drooling over him on the ride back to the hotel.
No sooner you enter the lift, you see the same Knight guy from earlier. The guy doesn't talk, but acknowledges your presence. However your tipsy state causes you to talk sweetly to that guy, but he stammers under Simon's threatening gaze.
Coincidentally you both and the guy have your rooms on the same floor.
Right beside each other.
A nightmare for the guy now.
As soon as you enter your room, Simon kicks and locks the door shut, trapping you between him and the wall. He holds you firmly against the wall with one hand and the other one grabbing your ass.
"Looks like tha' tipsiness gets the best out of ya, hmm?"
Your breath hitches, with your tits against his chest and his hand slowly establishing itself between your thighs, while the other slowly kneads your ass.
You look away, your thighs pressing his hand against your mound.
"Come on, sweetheart. Look at that, see how desperate you get. Like a nasty little girl, hmm?, Simon presses his body weight against you, not giving you any space to escape.
Simon hooks his knee between your inner thighs, giving you little friction to satisfy yourself on. He then sets his on the two opposite sides of your head, causing you to do all the work.
"You were enjoying a lot there, maybe you don't need me now, isn't that right, love?"
"No, it's nothing like that!", your nipples were hardened under his rigid chest, with your clothed cunt slightly rubbing on his jeans, trying to make it unnoticeable.
"Look at you, going about like you need it. Tell me, love, you want me or that bloody bastard?, he whispers in his signature dark deep voice, enough to set you over the edge.
"You! You! Please- Si, I need you!", tears were welling up your cheeks, a thin layer of sweat laid over your skin.
"Then show me, pretty bird. Show me what you really want", he throws a smug smirk at you, feasting over your own muffled moans and gaping lips covered in dripping drool.
Your clothed cunt works over his knee as if it had a brain of its own. You desperately chase your high, but you too know that this wasn't sufficient.
"Si! Please-i need you! I- ah! Can't do it! Ah! I love you, Si! Please-I! Please-ah!~"
He picks you up as if you were a twig, gently letting you fall on the cloud soft mattress. You instinctively set your legs apart, waiting for him to do what he wants to.
Simon practically drools over your messed up state. That dishevelled hair, sweat lingering on your face and neck, water running down from your eyes and nose. Poor overstimulated baby, he thinks. But he won't give you unless he gets what he wants.
"I-i am sorry, Si. I never meant it that w-way. It was just a simple interaction!"
"Wasn't a coincidence in the lift, was it?"
"P-please Si, I am sorry, please, I n-need you!", more tears fall down your face as you look at him with hope in the haze of physical needs.
Simon slowly places his fingers together against your clothed cunt, which was already wet from its need to have friction down there. He then moves over towards and thrashes his lips against yours.
His kiss isn't any sweet or gentle, it's all about dominance and harshness. You too lean into the kiss, as your tongues swirls over each other rapidly. After all you never liked soft kisses when you were drunk, they were so boring at such hour.
He hooks both of his hands into your panties, ripping them off your body in the blink of your eye. He swipes a finger over the inside of your panties, gathering up your slick on his finger.
"Look at 'hat, needy little slut for me at this hour, hmm?"
You could only whine and arch your back a little in response. God, the only person you would let inside of you was him.
He circles the tip of his finger over your puffed clit, hovering his mouth over your ear flithily.
"Y'know, maybe that bastard should know for whom this pretty birdie sings for. Isn't 'hat right, sweetheart?"
Good lord, he was so mean. You bite your bottom lip, jerking and hooking legs around him.
Simon bites down on your neck, leaving visible marks that no makeup would cover. He then shoves two fingers into your wetness, as your walls clench down on him.
You moan helplessly, and loud. You weren't a saint either, you would rather enjoy the fact that the entire hotel could hear you.
Simon pushes his fingers in and out without any mercy, with his thumb rubbing up and down your needy clit. Your orgasm was approaching fast and there was no way you could stop ot as your mouth fell open in utter bliss.
Out of the blue he withdraws his fingers, depriving you of your much needed climax.
Oh god, he was really mean now.
"Si~ Please!"
"Nuh-uh, love. Gonna teach you how to behave at certain times"
You were stark naked, your tits full on display. Your corset was nowhere to be seen and your dress crumpled near the nightstand. Sweat clinging to your skin and your pussy craving to have something in it. You cannot see much through your tear stained eyes, but you can definitely hear him.
Sound of belt unbuckling
Uh-oh. WOHOO
He takes his mammoth cock in his rough palm and positions it at your dripping cunt. Then he slowly let's his tip sink into you and-
Shoves himself inside you to the hilt in a second.
The air inside your lungs is knocked out as you grip the sheets. Oh god, how you loved him like this. He then puts his head beside yours, and you almost predict what is coming next.
"I bet you like this, hmmm? Well, I am not letting ya come till someone knocks the door complainin' about your flithy loud sounds"
You dig your nails into his shoulders and moan away without a care in the world. Your drooling cunt wraps around his pistoning cock, providing squelching sounds with every thrust, as Simon holds your shaking body close to him.
Nonetheless,the next morning the receptionist requested you not to 'blast music at a high volume' next time, as it disturbed the Knight guy in the room next to yours.
You could bet your ass that Simon was widely smirking under his mask with chubbed up pride, seeing you go all red at the reception desk.
Simon “i don’t share” Riley and medic!user, but the rest of 141 js loves fucking with their lt. 😵💫
Warnings: Established relationship, Simon is possessive, age gap (legal, he is in his mid 30s, reader in her early/mid 20s), suggestive, descriptions of blood and wounds.
a/n: You guys love it when I write for Simon Riley, and I've been getting back into COD lately (unemployment does that to a sweet girl), so here ya go!! Hope the anon who requested it gives me a big kiss (and some notes for part two because I really don't know how to tackle this)!!
part 1 | part 2 (will be linked when I post it)
Everyone at base knew you and Simon were together, it was obvious in the way his eyes trailed over your body when you walked around him, in the way your touch was softer, your hands lingered longer than usual against his marred skin when you patched him up.
It was obvious too, in the way Simon spoke to you when the rest of the 141 was around. His voice didn't have that honeyed veil, that softness it had when it was the both of you alone, he kept his usual stern tone, but it was the way he spoke and the words he used that made everyone take a step back.
When he came back injured from a particularly difficult mission, groaning as the medics laid him on your examination table and exited the small room, his rough hands—already stripped from their bloodstained gloves, as well as his torso, stripped from its bloodstained clothes, a gunshot wound on his side, gushing blood into the metallic table— would find your hips and waist, squeeze them tightly and murmur reassuring words.
And, usually, you wouldn’t be the one who needed the reassurance, but there you were, looking down at him with so much love you could have very well exploded. If anyone had dared to strip him off his balaclava then, they'd have found him gazing at you lovingly, cheeks flushed and smile wide, but nobody dared do that— nobody but you, that is— so he needn't worry.
One afternoon, the team gathered in the lounge after a particularly brutal training exercise Simon had come in to find you laughing at something Johnny had said, your head thrown back in that carefree way that made his heart race. The sight of you, laughing lightheartedly, should have made him smile, but instead, a surge of jealousy washed over him as he watched Johnny lean in closer, his arm casually draped over your shoulders, as if that was it's place.
Kyle sat at your right side, his fingers hooking in your neckline and tugging down playfully. He laughed as you swatted his hand away giggling. Simon caught his gaze, and the brunet just leaned back against the armrest and shot him a wink.
His blood boiled at the crude comments they whispered in your ear, loud enough for him to hear. He thought about shouting at his teammates, making a scene that would have the newest recruits gossiping, fearful of him. He considered smacking some sense into their heads as the anger coursed through his body, boiling hot. His fists clenched tightly, knuckles white, nails digging into the rough skin of his palm. But he knew that was what they wanted, and he refused to let these morons get the best of him. Instead, he walked around you and sat on a bench to your left, both arms stretched over the back of it, legs spread, eyes locked on you.
Even with the balaclava on, concealing his features, you could tell he was unhappy with the situation. So, you decided to play into it further. You smiled wide-eyed at their compliments, laughed at their teasing, and flirted back, all while periodically glancing at Simon to gauge his reaction.
With a casual but deliberate pat on his thigh, he drew your attention. You looked over, your playful demeanor faltering for just a moment as you caught his eye. There was a spark there, a silent command that sent a thrill through you. Without needing any further invitation, you slid off the bench and onto his lap, settling against him obediently.
"Think you can just flirt with every guy in the room?” His voice was smooth but edged with a teasing bite, drawing your attention fully.
"'m just being friendly, Si," You whispered back, your tone bitter.
When you turned to him, a bright smile on your face, he raised an eyebrow. Yeah, he'd show you friendly later.
────୨ৎ────
So sorry it's such a short thing but I literally had no idea how to carry it out, the part two will be pure filth (and if anon has any notes abt this I'll make sure to tackle those in part two!!)
notes from divine: i’ll write a part two eventually hehe
ghost hated the way that konig held you by the waist when the two of you thought no one was looking.
but the the truth was that everyone was looking.
it made ghost’s blood boil with jealousy, but he had no place to say anything. he was the one that gave you up in the first place— he left you in tears, you begging him to please, don’t do this to me, i love you, your broken heart scattered like shards of glass on the ground between you.
so why was he surprised, angry, even, that someone else, someone irrefutably better, would come along eventually and put it together for you?
he truly did want you to be happy. but seeing you happy with someone else? now that pissed him off.
you were supposed to be happy with him.
and you weren’t, no matter many times you insisted you were, ghost could pickup on your unannounced frustration.
—the falter in your breath when he came home too late and too tired to watch that favorite show with you, the sadness that outlined your jaw when he forgot an important date because fuck him, he was busy and deployment was nearing, or the tension that rested in-between your eyebrows when he retracted his hands from your hips because for a second, it reminded him of something terrible. to terrible for him to even dare to associate that with you, his lover.
well, his lover, at the time.
because now, you were someone else’s lover, and someone else had their hands on you hips, and kept it there, gripping the way that ghost knew you liked.
you probably showed konig the same way you showed him. somewhere in-between the sheets, in his lap, your hands guiding his, nails sinking into skin—
ghost’s blood boiled. more, if that was even possible.
but you were happy. and as much as simon now hated a man he had never really talked to before you fell into his embrace, he loved you too much to interfere. he was pissed, but if you were happy, then that was that.
they talked once, though, when their squads had to train together, and him and konig awkwardly stood in each others presence during the aftermath.
“how is she?” was all that ghost asked.
konig was confused for a moment, since he hadn’t really put much weight on your previous relationship with the lieutenant. you didn’t talk about him much, just a few words before a bittersweet smile.
“ah. y/n? she’s doing well.”
konig would have expanded more, if ghost hadn’t interrupted him with a grunt, and walked off.
konig told you about the interaction later that night, when the two of you were in bed, cuddling. your heart twinged a little, curling in on itself and seemingly wilting. he cared, still. he always did, when you were dating. but you figured that the breakup meant that he stopped.
guiltily, and without konig’s knowledge, you decide to send ghost a text, to meet somewhere public, like a cafe, and talk about… things. you didn’t know what, but that didn’t matter, because to your surprise, ghost texted a yes back instantly.
so when konig is working, you slip out of your home to the aforementioned cafe. ghost is there, having arrived before you, your typical order already on the table, himself with nothing.
“y/n.”
“simon.”
at first, the conversation is uncomfortable, the both of you stepping on the other’s figurative buttons— but by the second dry joke and held back laughter, the two of you fell back into something comfortable. the elephant in the room— your now boyfriend, however, was left unmentioned for the first hour. that is, until ghost said that he wanted to talk to you about more serious things, somewhere more private.
“simon,” you say slow, his name searing your lips. your eyes match his gaze, a pounding in your heart. “i’m with someone… i’m with konig.”
he hesitates— and you’ve never seen him uncertain before. in a way it was endearing as it was nerve wracking. “i know. i know that, y/n.” he looks around the cafe. “but please. there’s so much i want to tell you, but—“
“but you’re uncomfortable here,” you finish for him. you knew him better than he knew himself, really. ghost was a private person. meeting at a cafe was him compromising for you. you knew it wasn’t something that he would have preferred.
“yeah.”
eventually, you caved.
back at his place, things looked more disheveled since you were here last. the counter was a mess, a blanket and a few pillows on the couch, no doubt moved from his bedroom. you figured that he hadn’t been able to sleep in silence since you left, needing the comfort of the television.
he senses the tension crawling under your skin as you stood by his counter, one hand grazing the granite edge— heard the hitch in your breath when he caged you with his frame.
his eyes caressed the curves of your face before his finger did, and his scent— so familiar and yet so unfamiliar now, god— you flinched.
“simon,” you say, voice stern but soft. he watches as your eyelashes flutter close to compose yourself. “what is it that you wanted to talk about?” it comes out more of a statement than a question. get on with it, stop toying with me.
he drops his hand, places it on the counter next to you. leans his weight into it, your bodies close enough to touched if you moved just an inch. “are you happy with him?”
you hesitate for just a second, konig’s face flashing in your head. your heart lights aflame with guilt. “yes,” you say, as convincingly as you can.
“and you’re done with me?”
now that was unfair. how could he ask you that when he had broken up with you? you look away, refusing to answer.
his finger reaches out to tip your chin so you had to look him in the eyes.
“i asked you a question, y/n.”
you remained silent.
softly, into the shell of your ear, he whispered, “if you don’t answer, i’m going to kiss you. then i’m going to slide my hand up your shirt, and down your legs, and love you the way i should have. so answer me.”
it ran shivers down your spine, but you wouldn’t move. “answer me,” he said, his voice straining between his gritted teeth.
his hands slide up the side of your hips, but instead of the places he promised, you shudder when his fingers dip into the inner skin of your thighs, under the fabric of your sundress. he grazed his nails exactly the way he knew would make you go crazy, a silent reminder that he still remembered how to please you.
and then, his fingers pressed against your core, the fabric of your underwear the only barrier. your breathing goes heavy, and he watches your reaction with an intensity that left your head pounding.
“tell me you’re done with me. you need to, or else I can’t stop myself.”
