This is a vampire Au, set in Old londen. OPEN RP))
warning: sexism,
The air felt heavier then normals, more humid. The heavy layer of her skirt dragged on the dirty stones of the path as she marched her way through the alley. She was tired, dead tired. The medical lecture had gone later than expected. Much later, and now the dusk gave way to a bright moon. Its had the same milky white look as the skull on display at the university. The though made her fingertips dig into her palm.
Lorraine was no stranger to the Londen streets; she had grown up on them.
Running with her brother and hiding away with the other girls when the neighbors started yelling about the ruckus their playing caused. But now, she was older, a medical assistant to one of Londen’s best doctors, who would travel around to lecture the next best finest. Maybe in another life, she could have been one of the next best. The thought felt heavy in her stomach like an impossible weight. She would never reach that; she should be grateful just to be in the field as a woman. Grateful she managed to stay in the field.
The sounds of foot steps drew her out of her thoughts.
could u do simon riley taking his bf who dresses feminine out on a date and there's a confrontation?
Date night.
Simon Riley x (femboy) male reader
summary: hes protective...
Simon Riley wasn’t the kind of man who enjoyed crowds, dates, or public attention. But for you? He’d brave all of it.
You’d dressed a little softer tonight — a flowing shirt, subtle makeup, earrings that caught the light when you moved. He noticed every detail the moment you walked out of the bedroom, even if he hid the smile under the curve of his mask.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, offering his hand. “Let’s go.”
The restaurant you picked was quiet, warm, and dimly lit. You slipped into the booth beside Simon instead of across, and he didn’t complain — just rested a firm hand on your thigh, thumb drawing an absent circle. Anyone looking your way would see nothing but a mountain of a man relaxed for the first time all week.
Everything was perfect… until it wasn’t.
On your way out, an unfamiliar voice muttered from near the bar:
“Didn’t know they let blokes in dressed like that.”
You stiffened. Simon didn’t. Not outwardly.
He turned slowly, angling himself between you and the man — not threatening, not making a scene, just there. A wall.
“Say that again,” Simon said quietly. No edge, no raise in volume — the kind of calm that made the air feel heavier.
The man shrank a little. “Just saying. Looks weird, is all.”
Simon took a single step forward, and somehow that was enough to make the guy back up.
“Nothing weird about him,” Simon said. “What is weird is you thinking your opinion matters to anyone.”
You tugged Simon’s sleeve gently — not out of fear, but to remind him the night was supposed to be yours, not the stranger’s. He breathed out, almost a sigh, and put an arm around your shoulders as he turned toward the door.
“You alright?” he asked once you stepped into the cool evening.
You nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”
He leaned down just enough that you could feel his breath against your ear.
“Next time anyone gives you trouble,” he said softly, “they deal with me first.”
And as he walked you to the car, holding your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, it didn’t feel like a threat — it felt like a promise.
One of Jessica's first training sessions after recovering from the effects of MK-Ultra. Adler became her mentor, having personally taken responsibility to the CIA for keeping her alive on Solovetsky and allowing her to remain within the CIA.
She never liked letting people get so close, even during training, but Adler was different. She understood that now they would have to learn to trust each other again. And become partners.
Ghost needs to get an injury taken care of, the only problem is, he meets a headstrong (and incredibly exhausted) nurse who might just be a match for him.
Their short argument leads to him having to apologize if he wants to avoid getting his ass kicked by Price.
He really did want to just apologize, but sometimes a plan failing is the better outcome.
This is an old one, but i thought the people of Tumblr would appreciate it... however just know that my writing has improved a LOT since this was first typed out...
There was an unwritten, but universally known rule in the military; you don’t piss off the people responsible for saving you, or another soldier’s life.
This includes doctors and nurses. Now, Ghost usually did his best to adhere to this rule, today has just been a really long day, even if it was only morning. The rookies he was tasked with training were absolute idiots and the training equipment was antient...
“I swear to god, if you don’t stop moving around, I’ll sedate you.” The little spitfire of a nurse exclaimed, holding onto his shirtless shoulder with one hand, the other one holding an alcohol swab she was trying to use on him.
“It’s just a scratch.” He mumbled through his mask, once again pulling his arm away just as she touched the cut.
“And I am just trying to do my job.” She growled back at him, her arm dropping slightly, probably sore from the awkward angle of fighting a gigantic baby.
“I can clean it—”
“It needs at least three stitches—”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Who’s the medical professional here?” That shut him up for a quick moment. “Thank you.” She sarcastically sang out, but far too early, unfortunately, because he simply just… stood up. “Sit down.”
“I’ll just clean it in my room and bandage it up—”
Faster than even he could have predicted it, she threw her hands up with a huff, opened the door and leaned out into the hallway, where Soap and Gaz were waiting for him.
“You two, get in here!” The nurse ordered, and like the good soldiers they are, the two came bounding into the room, the door slamming closed behind them. “Mohawk, you take the right arm like this.” She placed Johnny's hands in two particular places on his right arm and shoulder. “Hat, you make him sit down.”
And just like that, Ghost found himself sitting down on the exam bed again, with little spitfire finally cleaning his arm. It hurt, burned like a bitch as always. That was fine, he didn’t fight too much against the hold they had on him, but when she got the suture kit out, his need to leave flared up again. Soap and Gaz knew better than to try and hold him back again, slightly distancing themselves but not leaving, too curious to see what would happen next.
“This will literally take me 5 minutes.” She started, throwing the kit on the bed so she could put her hands on her wide hips.
“It’s unnecessary. It’s barely even a scratch.” Simon ridiculed.
“When you collapse, or get a fever from an infection, you know whose ass they’ll come after? Mine.” Spat the nurse, her whole face a delicious red from anger... She looked up at the mask without an ounce of fear, if anything, her glare was almost frightening. “I’m just trying to do my job, but noooo! Fuck me for wanting to treat a fucking wound, like I’m told to do!”
“Well now I’m telling you don’t need to do it, just give me something to wrap it up with.”
“You didn’t even let me stop the bleeding.” It wasn’t even bleeding much, just a slow and steady stream down his arm. “And you need a tetanus—”
“You just cleaned it!” He protested, really not wanting that shot now. Last time he got it, he was out with a fever for a whole day.
“You got cut by a rusty old training equipment.” So maybe she had a point, but now he was just arguing out of principle. He couldn’t just… give up.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Lieutenant maybe—”
“Shut it, Johnny.”
“Okay, that’s it. Get out.” She exclaimed suddenly, shocking all of them. “I’ve had it with stubborn men for one fucking day. Want to bleed all over the place and have an ugly scar instead of two sutures and no scar? Go fucking ahead. I don’t need this! I’ve had a 12 hour shift full of nothing but bullshit, I’m tired, I’m hungry and I’ve had enough of you!” The three soldiers found themselves huddled up together by the door, while she was seemingly ranting to herself, pacing by the windows. “I swear to fucking God… I’m quitting tomorrow.” She hissed under her breath, reaching for the suture kit, wasted on another stubborn man, but a glowed hand stopped her before she could throw it out.
“Fine…” Ghost mumbled under his breath, calmly sitting down so she could easily reach his arm. He fixed his eyes on the hallway outside the room, a few passersby giving them curious looks – probably witnesses to the screaming match. Soap and Gaz were holding back their laughter, until – of course – Price decided to walk in, confident swagger to his steps like always.
“Hello, sunshine.” He greeted sweetly. Ghost was almost ready to snap back, thinking it was meant as a jab at him, when Spitfire responded.
“Hey, John.” She still sounded grumpy as ever, but with a slight fondness now. The boys all exchanged a glance with one another. “He one of yours?” She asked with a pull on the string, tightening a stich.
“Yeah…”
“Hmm”
“They behaving?” The captain asked, his thumbs hooking into the beltloops on his pants, rocking back on his heels slightly.
The rest of the 141 tensed up, the last thing they wanted was another chew out, this time by their captain. Gaz was giving his best puppy eyes, Soap his sheepish smile and Ghost just bowed his head a touch.
“Like true gentlemen.” She drawled out. They watched, fascinated, as their captain walked over to stand beside her, watch her work close and with an aura of familiarity. As the seconds ticked by, the nurse slowly but surely calmed down, finishing up the stitches by bandaging up Ghost’s arm.
“Please try not to rip them and keep them clean. I’m sure you know how to take care of it otherwise…” She said with a raised eyebrow. Ghost gave her a silent, intimidating nod. “I’d advise to have them in for at least a week, and then have someone look at them before taking them out.” Finished the short woman, removing her gloves and cracking her sore neck.
Her fire had completely burned out by this point, shoulders set in an exhausted slouch, her hair in a messy updo on the top of her head and heavy bags hung under her eyes along with smudged makeup. Her lips were dry and chapped, likely dehydrated, and her skin was almost unhealthily pale.
“Alright boys, show’s over.” Price said, guiding them out of the room and practically slammed the door in their face.
The three of them looked at each other for a few… minutes…. In absolute, awkward silence, only broken when they heard some muffled talking through the door.
“Do you think they—”
“I mean, I’d understand, little lass has some fire—”
“Alright now—"
The door opened up again, Price walking out looking… not disheveled at all, but put together and entirely calm. He gave them all a questioning look before zeroing in on Ghost. His eyebrows furrowed into the typical commending expression of a Captain.
He didn’t exactly say anything, but the message was loud and clear.
If only Simon wasn’t such a stubborn man.
He was doing his duties all day, his argument with the little nurse still in the back of his mind, but he hadn’t actually caught sight of her since.
At this base – equipped with barracks, more private rooms for higher ranking officers, training grounds with horrible equipment falling apart – hence his injury – a small hospital with specialized doctors and nurses in a few fields, and even a grocery store. Mealtimes stretched out a few hours each, seeing as they were feeding practically a small town.
Still, he sat and ate slowly, mask lifted up to his nose, his eyes darting around. Then he repeated the same for dinner, and his eyes kept looking around while he had a light night smoke. Still, she never showed up anywhere, so he had to use his Lieutenant privileges to look for her, finally finding out her name too. Not that he would use it...
He made his way over to her room, taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. And he waited.
And waited.
And… waited?
What the hell? He knocked again; a bit harsher this time. Harsh enough that he felt the vibrations in his feet. This was ridiculous at this point. People on this base were far too laid back for his liking… fucking KorTac.
Finally, the door opened up, and he had to tilt his head down so he could look at her… and what a sight she was.
Evidently, she had taken a shower somewhere between their last meeting and now, the smudged remains of her makeup were completely gone, her face still tired but with an edge of freshness to it her skin shiny with some product on it.
Her lips were set into an annoyed pout, the shiniest of them all, her hair down from its previous uptight prison in two slightly damp braids, the ends resting on the oversized shirt she was wearing. It was dark greyish blue, with a single word on it in a tick, slightly blocky font; Ghost. He was ready for a fucking heart attack at any moment now. The shirt ended at the middle of her thick thighs – looking soft and delectable – where he could just about detect a pair of tight biker shorts.
“Can I help you?” She snipped, removing a pair of earbuds from her ears. He could hear a second or two of a rock riff before the music automatically cut itself off.
He was silent for a moment or two, crossing his arms across his chest, his hands resting on his biceps, the right one dangerously close to the stiches she made only hours ago. Her eyes darted there too, expression souring even more.
“I wanted to… apologize…” How could words hurt this bad? Pride was a difficult thing… His voice was barely more than a growl, gruff and mean beneath the muffle of his mask.
“Sorry?” Her face was full of genuine confusion, actually not hearing his words.
He rolled his eyes but still cleared his throat, straightening his spine just a touch. “I wanted to apologize… for how I acted this morning.”
There was a slight hustle and bustle coming from down the hallway, a couple of boastful staff coming in from their shift. She gave them one look before reaching out for the hulking man in front of her, pulling him into her room. He didn’t stumble, but his surprise was obvious by his wide blue eyes. She gently closed the door behind him, then made her way over to the side table next to what he assumed was her bed, where she placed down her headphones in their case.
Looking around the room, Simon observed his surroundings. There were two beds, one desk with a plant on it, a small – tiny – kitchenette and a door that probably lead to a small bathroom. The sheets on the other bed were nicely made, both wardrobes (almost as tall as him) were closed with a few boxes on top of them. Little signs of two people living in the medium sized room were scattered around, little pieces of papers with random notes on them, picture frames on nightstands, books with bookmarks and some scrubs draped over the backs of the chairs.
“So… you were saying?” She sat on the bed, leaning back on her hands behind her, her chest pressed up into her shirt, nicely showing off her curves. His eyes were drawn there for a moment or two before he snapped out of it and focused on her face. But she looked… different.
Her eyes were half lidded; pupils blown wide. She was biting her lower lip, trying to hide the coy smile he could still see. Her otherwise pale cheeks were slowly filling up with red. Simon had to bling a few times to make sure he was seeing things correctly, after all, this was the same woman who was ready to murder him just a few hours ago.
“I wanted to apologize.” His voice came out loud, confident and deep.
“Hah, maybe you already have an infection… a fever perhaps?” She teased with a gorgeous smirk.
“Maybe you should check on it. Make sure I’m all good.” The words tumbled from his lips faster than he could realize just what he had said, but he didn’t let the realization show on his face, not when her eyes brightened up like that.
“You might be onto something… Take off your shirt.” Her command was playful, not at all like the Spitfire nurse he had argued with before.
Without another word, he took the long-sleeved shirt off, careful around the stiches, and let it fall to the ground next to his feet with a light thump, his eyes locked on her. Her eyes – hungry and devouring – travelled from his belt up over his abs, his pecs, down one arm, around a hand up the other, until finally arriving at the bandage. Freshly cleaned just before he came here.
“Need a closer look?” He inquired.
“Yes.” She answered in a breath, dazed eyes still stuck on his muscles.
He stepped up to her, slowly falling to his knees, and rested his hands by hers, crowding her in and leering above her much like a predator ready to strike.
“Go on then, look.” He ordered, taking – or more like ripping – the reins straight out of her hands. She didn’t seem to mind, not like back in the exam room, her hands eagerly connecting to his skin, mapping out each ridge, scar and blemish, paying a special attention to the bulging veins on his forearms, an actual moan escaping her as she trailed a well-groomed nail over one leading right up to the inside of his elbows.
“Your skin is a little warm, maybe we should get rid of a few more items?” She coyly suggested, hands already darting down to his belt.
In a moment of clarity, he remembered the little moment she seemed to have shared with Price. “Wait—” Her movements instantaneously froze up. “What about Price?”
“John?” She asked with a giggle. “He’s an old friend.” She shrugged. “Barely a friend, more like the friend of someone I know...” She trailed off. “Don’t worry, you’re not stepping on any toes.” She purred by what she though was his ear.
With a growl – and a hand to her sternum – he shoved her down into the mattress, watching as her tits bounced twice as much as the rest of her. His hands itched to touch her skin, to feel the soft curves he could see outlined now, to squeeze, scratch and slap at her, leave marks and use her as a means to get rid of the frustration she had given him. And he wanted her to do the same.
Her hands at his belt were as aggressive as ever, tugging and pulling in practiced movements, until his pants got loose, his round ass the only reason they didn’t fall off. Her eyes held the same fire again, inviting him to do whatever he wanted with her. When one of her delicate hands brushed up against him through his underwear, he finally acted.
He held the collar of her shirt with both of his hands, ready to just rip it off of her, but her free hand came up and hooked under his mask, gaining his complete attention.
“Don’t you dare rip this shirt.” She threatened, almost tickling his neck now, letting her fingers brush against his skin just under the hemline.
“Take it off. Right now.” He ordered harshly, sitting back on his heels – losing her wonderful touch – so he could watch the slow reveal.
Teasingly, she pulled the shirt off in one slow movement, placed it down next to her on the mattress and looked back at him with a shit eating grin. The view was glorious, her tits were ample, round and slightly hanging due to their weight. The skin was even paler here, almost glowing in the harsh light from up above, her pale pink nipples hardening either from the cold, or excitement. With a sultry expression on her face, she beckoned him closer with him eagerly following her wordless command, crawling over her until her back rested against the bed, her big doe eyes looking innocently up at him.
“The mask stays on?" She asked with a little smile, arms thrown over his wide shoulders, blunt nails scratching along the back of his shoulders, goosebumps erupting along his arms. Her question wasn’t malicious, wasn’t demanding, her tone was light, almost teasing still, with just a hint of brattiness.
He contemplated her words, his eyes searching hers. He realized, he liked the challenging glimmer in them, the same one that had frustrated him when in the exam room. But still, it stoked a fire in him too, one that demanded he put her in her place, smack that brattiness out of her, or well… fuck it out of her.
“For now.” Was his vague answer, and though he caught the slight disappointment in her face, she didn’t seem to mind it too much.
“So, I can’t kiss you?” Jesus, she was almost whining now, the little vixen. How was this the same woman who almost throttled him over a little cut?
“Fucking hell.” Simon muttered, holding the bottom of his mask up with one hand, pulling her in by her throat with the other.
Their lips clashed together brutally; violently in an aggressing dance of teeth and tongue. At the first taste of her – her lip balm a rich chocolate- he had to let out a deep groan right out of the deepest parts of his chest. Involuntarily, his hand on her neck flexed, pulling her even closer so their noses bumped together, her apple scented shampoo all around him.
The nurse had a strong reaction to the kiss as well. He tasted strongly of mint, with the faint undertone of cigarettes to it, as if he had popped a mint in his mouth right before coming to her. The aggressiveness of his kiss made her whole body not tingle, no, absolutely fucking explode. She moaned the moment his strong hand – with those long fingers and amazing veins – wrapped around her neck, like a perfect necklace, her hips involuntarily grinding up when he tightened his hold on her. The mask was scratchy on her sensitive skin, and surely some of her face cream was transferring over to it, not that he seemed to mind.
Once again, her hand fell down into his pants, palming him and sizing him up, legs already shaking at the estimates her hands made. Now, she was no blushing virgin, had been with a few guys before, soldiers too (she did live on base), but there was something about this Simon guy, that just got her to tick in a new way. Maybe it was the mask, or his pretty blue eyes and blonde lashes, or the tattoos on his forearm, the confidence he carried himself with, or maybe the stubbornness he exhibited that morning. Whatever it was (or maybe all of the above) she was absolutely dripping in her panties. Hell, at this point, it might have even been her shorts seeping through with her desire.
When he separated from her, she caught a glimpse of his glistening pretty pink lips, the scars on his cheeks, before the mask was back on his face completely, blackened eyes blinking heavily at her. His thumb came up to play with her lower lip, free hand groping at one of her tits, weighing it up and letting it drop back down on occasion.
“C’mon, little spitfire, tell me what to do with you.” He ordered, fascinated by both her lips and the way her tits bounced.
“I want you, Lieutenant.” Whined the woman, pressing her hips up again.
“Shit” He hissed back, pressing himself harder against her hand. “Take your clothes off and lay back.” He demanded in a harsh tone shoving off of her so he wouldn’t… fire prematurely. On his heels again, he watched her.
She hooked her thumbs into the shorts, shimmying them down from her hips, taking them off a little awkwardly as he was still so close to her. When he deemed her movements too slow, he assisted her. A.k.a.: tugged her shorts off along with her underwear in two rapid motions. Would have only been one had her panties not tangle up on her ankles.
The little spitfire of a woman wasn’t freshly shaved. It’s not like she was expecting this to happen today. It wasn’t a planned thing. At least she had the opportunity to shower and wash off her 12-hour shift’s filth off of her. She wasn’t insecure, he was a grown ass man, a man who had truly seen some fucked-up shit in his time. If a little bit of stubble freaked him out… well, there was nothing she could do about it.
Her skin was so fucking soft. He couldn’t get his hands off her. From her ankles to her knees, the soft planes of her squishy thighs, Simon was marveling at her. His calloused fingers brushed, stroked and massaged what he could, his eyes following until he caught sight of the apex of her thighs. She wasn’t just wet, not just glistening, oh no, she was actually actively dripping onto her sheets.
He needed to get a taste.
So, he once again tugged the mask up so it stayed just on the bridge of his nose, catching her under her knees, he jerked her until her ass hung just off the bed, and leaned down so his meal was right in front of his starving lips. Fucking beds, so goddamn low, his back would be fucked.
With the first lick, she was gone.
Simon threw her legs over his shoulders, forcing her to spread wide and angle her hips up, and he went to town. He licked her from bottom to top, then pain special attention to her clit, delighting in her absolutely filthy mewls. He’d need to tell her to shut it, or the whole base will end up hearing them, but he didn’t exactly get a chance to when she trapped him in by locking her thighs around his head, grinding up into his lapping tongue, riding the fuck out of his face.
His hands tightened on her thigs, denting the soft cushions and making the skin around his fingers – as well as his knuckles – white. He opened his eyes – hadn’t even realized when he had closed them – and just admired her fucked out expression. He r head thrown back, one hand on her scalp, the other holding up one of her tits, she was a true beauty. Her skin was already shining with a thin sheen of sweat, a blush starting to bloom its way down her chest from her face.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum—” She whimpered out, almost sobbing with pleasure. Her hips became a bit more erratic – Simon had to fling a heavy arm around them so she didn’t actually slip – and her vocalization only heightened.
He made sure to do all the right movements with his tongue, lapping, slurping, sucking at her until his jaw hurt – and even after. She tasted like the sweetest fucking dessert, like water after a long mission in a desert, like a cigarette after a particularly long day.
Eyes screwed shut, she could only focus on her pleasure, already a shaking mess only minutes in. Later, she might be embarrassed by the noises she made – just short of screaming – but at that moment; well, she wasn’t even certain she remembered where she was. For a simple, short and almost accidental moment, she opened her eyes and met his.
Pupils blown wide enough to hide his baby blues; Simon looked feral even with the mask still halfway on. The black around his eyes was melting off with the sweat his efforts created, bleeding not his – now wet – mask.
That one second of eye-contact, that heated charge that shot between them was enough for her to finish with a keening moan, her thighs clenching up and somehow drawing him even closer, smothering him completely.
She gasped for a breath that wouldn’t come, relaxing her hold on him even as he continued to gently lap at her, cleaning her up so to say. With every move of his tongue her body would twitch a bit, trying to relax into the mattress. When it was starting to become too much, she gently pushed him away and just… breathed for a moment.
“You okay?” Simon asked, crawling over her again so he could really take in her blissed-out eyes.
“Yeah…” The nurse breathed out, the hoarseness of her voice a different level of sexiness altogether.
Humming back, he gently guided her so she was laying on her back with her head on the pillow, and sat down beside her, urging her to open her legs with a teasing hand on her thigh. She followed the silent order obediently, mewling for him when his fingers brushed through the mess he had just created.
He pushed a finger inside her, groaning at the heavenly warmth, each of his movements announced by a loud squelching noise. He was focused on her face this time, holding eye-contact with her eagerly. Properly apologizing. Soon, he added another finger inside, hooking them up to rub against that special spot and her eyes fluttered, crossing right before closing. That little expression sped up the motions of his hand, the other one trailing up her body to latch around her neck again. Her head thrown back, she pushed into both of his hands, body tightening up rapidly.
He was about to start involving his thumb, when she confidently brought her right hand down, fingers eagerly circling her clit, her insides tightening up even more, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure. Her left hand clumsily sought out his own arousal, the touch wonderful even through his underwear.
The moment her hand wrapped around him, he almost doubled over. He had been so hell bent focused on her pleasure; he forgot about the pain in his pants. Their movements sped up, clumsy, hot and rough, her moans rising again, until with one drawn out whimper, she tightened up like a vice around him and some of her arousal actually squirted out of her, lightly spattering on his trousers, leaving some wet spots behind.
“Fucking hell, spitfire, making a mess huh?” He teased pulling his hands away from where she lay like a ragdoll, the hand around his erection entirely limp.
“I wanna hrmsp—” She mumbled with a self-satisfied smile.
“What was that, darlin’?” He demanded; borderline manic grin hidden beneath fabric.
“I want you to fuck me…” The little nurse whined, reaching for him.
Catching her weak arm, he chuckled at her. “How about you ask for it nicely?” She whined again, but he was having none of it. “C’mon, show me those pretty eyes and ask me nicely, like I know you can.”
“Weren’t you the one apologizing here?” A sudden wave of bravery overcame her, previous exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “The way I see it, you should be begging me.”
That was it.
In one fluid move he flipped her over on her stomach. As she was grumbling away, he tore the pillow from under her head – more complaints – and stuffed it under her hips, elevating her. Standing from the bed, he gave her voluminous, round backside a swift smack, then proceeded to take off his remaining clothing, the boots thumping loudly, his belt sweetly tinkling.
The little nurse flipped her head around, so she could marvel at the hunk of a man naked in her room and pointed at the nightstand. “Condoms are in the bottom drawer.”
He reached one ginormous hand down, holding her entire head, and turned her head away to face the wall again – but she could still hear the telltale sounds of crinkling wrapper.
His weight then settled with his knees on either side of her, his cock flopping heavily on her ass crack.
“Ask for it. Nicely.” He commanded in what she believed to be his lieutenant voice.
“You ask for it first—”
Smack. “Fucking brat. I wasn’t the only one misbehaving today, eh? Turning my team against me?” He questioned, provoking the fire so far dormant inside her.
“I was doing my—”
Smack. “Nah, you were being bossy, but don’t you worry, I’ll fuck the brattiness out of you. Now beg.”
“I’m—”
Smack. This time, the spanking was paired with a practiced roll of his hips, his cock rubbing up against her deliciously. She tried to hold back her moan, but she was so sensitive from her previous orgasms, she could’ve come from just his spanking alone…
“Please…” Conveniently turning her head back into the sheets, her mumble was unintelligible to even herself.
“Now, now, I know you can do better than that, spitfire.” He continuously ground into her now, teasing and torturing the both of them.
Still not lifting her head, she whined again. “Please—”
“Not good enough.” He spoke simply, then his weight shifted. For a moment she was scared, thinking he was about to get up, but then her heart sped up for an entirely different reason. His hands got a hold of both of her braids, raising her head with a delectable mix of pain and pleasure. He leaned closer, lips brushing her ear – his mask still tucked above his nose. “Beg.”
“Please, please Simon… I need you.”
He switched up his hold so only one of his hands held her hair, the other one guiding himself – slowly – inside her.
A shared groan rang out between them, one breathier than the other. He settled inside her for a long moment, just enjoying her body while she adjusted to his size. After an experimental thrust was met with an enthusiastic moan, he sat a pace that showed just how frustrated and angry he was that morning.
The bed dangerously creaked under their joined weight, just sable enough not to actually move around with his thrusts, lest he bumps the wall with the headboard, not that the thought wasn’t enticing. The hand he had used to help him inside her now he put next to her head, leaning a fair bit of his weight forward, pushing his hips down and into her, genuinely fucking each sound out of her.
He knew he wasn’t going to last long – between the visuals while eating her out and the clumsy half-hearted hand job, he was pretty much done for – but she felt too good to just be done with her. With the sounds she now made though, whimpers mixed with sobbing moans, it was obvious she would be done for soon, but damn him if he wasn’t going to fuck another climax out of her.
“Come on, pretty girl, give me another one, yeah?” She shook her head with a whimper. “Yes, you will, take your hand and play with yourself.” Simon ordered, letting her go – almost chuckling at the way her head immediately flopped down – and gave her a swift smack on her already red ass.
The was she tightened up almost forced him to end their fun, but he focused on making her feel good with steely eyes. His hips rolled, thighs pumping him in and out, sweat smudging the eye-black in his eyes. His hands kept slapping her ass, her hand now sandwiched between the pillow and herself, fingers occasionally bumping into his pistoling cock. Her hips weakly met his movements, legs crossing and uncrossing behind them until he pinned them down wit his, shoving them together so she tightened up even more.
“Oh f-fuck…” It was barely more than a wet, broken sob, and she was coming again, the vice this time felt on his cock.
The pleasure wrecked her in waves, and he wanted to give her a moment, he really did, but fuck he was about to explode.
He lost all sense of rhythm, both hands now clutching her hips as he ruthlessly piledrove inside her, burying himself balls deep with a groan as he filled up the condom with all he had.
For at least a minute, the two of them just breathed silently, him still inside her pliant body, gathering their senses. With one last – painful – sigh, he pulled out of her, flopping on the tiny bed in a sweaty heap.
He didn’t pull the mask back down yet, not until he fully gained his breath back under control, but she was too tired to look back at him anyway. She was just laying there, her legs still shaking on occasion, her skin blotched with red. When she finally got up, she did so with a long groan, sitting at the edge of the bed, looking off seemingly into nothing with furrowed eyebrows.
“You alright?” He asked gently, trailing a hand down her spine, pride blossoming in his chest – for some reason – when she relaxed into his touch.
“I just… need to go to the bathroom, pee.” She explained, but still looked in front of herself instead of at him. He hummed, prompting her to explain further as he finally pulled the mask back down. “I’m… not sure my legs are working properly.” The nurse shrugged.
He let out a short-amused chuckle, patted her lower back and sat up as well, removing the condom as he did so. “Yeah, should get rid of this too.” He commented, standing up smoothly. All that training they did didn’t just disappear, he had the stamina of a fucking horse, he held a hand out for her, which she took with a sheepish smile, and helped her into the bathroom.
Once inside, he deposited her on the toilet, threw the used wrapper into the trash bin, and turned to leave the room again so she wouldn’t feel embarrassed or something, but she was already wiping and flushing, stumbling over to the sink so she could wash her hands. With a playful eyeroll – one that he made sure she could see in the mirror – he hooked an arm around her, their height different making it a little awkward, and helped her stand.
“Want to take a shower?” She innocently looked up at him and he wasn’t sure if it was an invitation to something more or just a genuine question. “Separate… unless you like hot showers where your skin melts off?” Teased the little spitfire with a devilish smirk, energy slowly creeping back inside her bones.
“Nah, I’ll shower in my room.” Simon awkwardly rubbed the back of his head with his free hand.
“That’s fine—”
“You want help?” He offered before he even realized. “You’re still a bit shaky is all…” He clarified coolly. He wasn’t a blushing fucking teenager for fuck’s sake.
“I’m just going to shower before my shift tomorrow. I’m exhausted.” She cackled as she said it, gesturing to the door so the two of them could waddle out, Simon feeling a bit warm on the inside as she leaned most of her weight back on him. It had nothing to do with her tits being pressed literally into his tattooed forearms or her still slick body into his own. “So, no cuddles?” She playfully complained, slumping down into her bed with an exhausted sigh. He started putting his clothes on, as she did the same.
“Not today.” He murmured, pulling a sheet on her naked body.
It felt… good, to take care of someone like this. It had been a while since he had the opportunity to not just indulge in the carnal matters between adults, but also the softer sides of it.
