♡┊TW — dp, anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, monster fuck, praise, breeedkink, afab reader, dark smut, dead dove, Ghost has two dicks here (because I chose to write it like that)
"Don't look anywhere else, look at me... I'm still your husband." The words were followed by the wet sound of the two cocks of your now radioactively-rayed husband, who looked like a monstrous anomaly — with two extra heads, two extra arms, and... two extra cocks.
You hadn't expected that in thousands of years, but when Simon came out the door completely safe and sound, looking like that was shocking and at least scary to your eyes.
Even so, you were on your hands and knees, feeling one of his cocks enter your ass while the other filled your wet pussy, making you whimper loudly as you felt his very hot and heavy balls hit your clit with the slow thrusts that the military man was giving you.
You could feel every pulsing vein of his shafts in your wet holes, the slickness between your thighs and his groin increasing. His now gray eyes were locked completely on your figure, two of his four arms gripping your waist while the other two held your wrists behind your back, ready to dominate and maneuver you as he pleased.
Hearing your moans of acceptance, his two cocks throbbed like never before, impaling you to the point where you even forgot that your partner was now a shadow of what he once was.
All that mattered in that moment was that you could take every inch of what he was giving you, as if your life depended on it—as if every fluid that came out of his cocks was a poison that made you crave more and more of him.
The slow, flesh-to-flesh pounding that had once been tender was now replaced by Simon's almost animalistic movements above you. A little drool dripped from your mouth as you could only wriggle your toes every time one of his cocks reached the tip of your womb while the other kissed limits you didn’t even know existed.
Grunts escaped his lips, muffled by the mask that was now completely part of his skin, fused to his flesh like a second garment. His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough to leave marks as a hoarse growl came from his throat, echoing like a triad through his three heads.
"Come on, sweetheart... I know you want to cum, don't deny it... cum for me." His words were tinged with the same honey that once soothed your soul. It was still him, even with that new body—and you felt yourself becoming addicted to it, like a drug, leaving you with pleasure so intense it made your system shut down.
You felt him give one final thrust, and at the same time, your pussy was filled with the warm, viscous liquid of his semen. Your other hole was filled as well, causing tears to spill from your eyes as you whimpered from how full you were. But your partner didn’t stop—Simon continued with small thrusts until he felt your inner walls drain him. One of his many hands moved to your pussy lips, slowly opening them to expose your tight slit as it swallowed his cock.
"I won’t let you leave here until I see you beautiful, full, and carrying my children in your belly... Do you understand, my angel?" His words left no room for argument, and no matter how tired you were, saying "no" wasn't an option. After all, you wanted him too, regardless of his appearance. He was still yours.
T gave you just about everything you had wanted. A stronger body, muscle mass, a five o’clock shadow, thick fuller hair, a deeper voice, and even squared out your jawline.
The only thing it hadn’t done was make you any taller. Which your teammates seemed especially fond of.
Soap had taken to calling you “Wee Lad” among various other small centered nicknames.
Ghost had settled for the classics calling you short.
Gaz preferred fun size, and little guy.
And Price, thankfully kept the nicknames to a minimum. Though, the expanse of short jokes never seemed to run dry when you were involved.
You couldn’t even win a fucking argument, the minute those assholes sensed they were losing they’d simply end it with a “well you’re short.” As though that best out everything,
Soap was by far the worst instigator. He liked to lean on you, elbow flat on your head like you were no more than a desk. He liked to offer to send you into vents as needed as well.
“Aye, well he’s the smallest, an’ we’re no’ gonnae fit in there. C’mon on, send in the mouse.”
And you were unfortunately good at it. It was how you got your callsign after all.
i think ghost would loveeee to tease babygirl reader about their age gap, especially about how easily it is for her to cum around an older man’s cock aghhh love it
sorry this took AGES. I’m still trying to go through everything in my inbox. It also might take me ages but everything has a draft 🖤
so lets dive in
FRICK YES HE WOULD.
babygirl!reader being an absolute mess under him 😩 girls never had a guy make her cum, let alone multiple times. ghost can’t help but tease her about it when the bed sheets are soaked and she’s whimpering from overstimulation.
And that only makes him fuck her harder, and longer. he’s making sure she knows there ain’t anything that’s gonna be as good as him. his cock left it’s mark and no ones welcome. He’ll rip their heads off 🙈
“so it takes an old guy to make this cunt sing pretty.” he growls in her ear as he pushes in full. making her eyes follow the bulge in her stomach from the head of his cock, few thrusts away from filling it with hot cum
— afab anatomy, gender-neutral nicknames, only pronouns used are you, etc.
summary: visiting simon after he's back from deployment was always nice, but you feel anxious about getting intimate with him. simon quickly shows you how irrational your worries are.
warnings: over 3k words, slightly self-indulgent, established relationship, performance anxiety, first time together (not virginity loss), stretch marks, praise and body worship, fingering, oral, protected sex, biting and marking, simon being slightly possesive.
Standing by the door to his flat, Simon already felt the calming scent of your perfume. When he opened it, the smell hit him before he could even spot your face on the other side. As soon as he did spot it, though, a smile fell on his lips.
His arms wrapped around your waist, enjoying the warmth of your body against his. You didn't need words to express how much you missed him, just throwing your arms over his shoulders to bring him closer to you. Simon's head quickly found the crook of your neck, humming against the soft skin.
You two stood there for a couple of seconds, embracing yourself in another's presence. His lips left a single kiss on top of your head before he pulled away to do the same to your mouth. "Hi there." Simon whispered, as his hands travelled down to your hips, holding them tightly.
"Happy to see you, Si." you replied, feeling the warmth of your own cheeks.
He closed the door with his foot and guided you deeper into his flat after you kicked your shoes off. Still placing one hand on your hip, he led you into his bedroom, pointing at the bed because it was the most comfortable place in his flat. "I'm goin' to grab some water, do you want anything?"
You shook your head. While waiting, you sat down with your legs stretched in front of you. Hearing him walk around in his kitchen brought a smile to your face. You missed him so much, that you felt as if your heart was about to explode the moment you see his face again.
And you were almost right. The moment he got back, you were smiling again, heart pounding, and feeling as if your fingertips needed to feel his skin again.
"You okay there, love?" he asked, looking down at you. You just nodded your head, breathing in the familiar scent of him, the scent that always warmed your heart. The natural smell of his skin, the slightest hint of his aftershave connected with his shampoo and cigarettes made your head feel at ease.
His arm slithered around your waist, keeping you close as his other hand rubbed your thigh. Soft, calming circles with his thumb as he kissed your forehead.
Simon loved the warmth of skin, hidden beneath the fabric of your pants. It was the greatest reward for surviving another day. For finding his way back to you. Especially when he could just trace the curves of your body and feel the softness of them. So different to everything he experienced during his deployment.
You felt a rush of goosebumps run up your spine as you felt the hand on your back slowly ease its way under your shirt, tracing the sensitive skin and marks on it. Looking up, trying to see if he truly meant to do it, you met his gaze. The light of the lamp beside you reflected in them, making them shine so prettily. You could feel yourself getting lost in them once more, after all this time away it felt the same. Almost overwhelming.
Pure love and trust emitting from them made your heart flutter. You couldn't stop admiring the warmth of them. A smile found its way to not only your lips but also your own eyes. Simon wasn't a man of many words, but you didn't need to hear them to know exactly how he felt.
You closed your eyes, trying to allow the warmth of his palm to take over your body, but you just couldn't help overthinking. Does he really mean it? Does he really want it? Does he want me? You bit your lower lip, looking up at him.
"What's wrong?" Simon asked, concern filling his voice. That made your chin twitch, it was so close to breaking down with tears. "Hey, hey, hey..." he whispered, cupping your cheeks.
You leaned against his touch, trying to calm down. It wasn't simple, but you finally did, looking back into his eyes. One of his hands found yours, interlocking your fingers. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." he starts, but you stop him by shaking your head.
As soon as he sat down and placed the mug on the bedside table, you wrapped your arms around his torso, fingers lingering over the material of his baggy shirt.
"It's not like that." you whispered and swallowed harshly. You smiled slightly and placed his hand on your thigh. "I trust you." you reminded him, tracing the scar around his wrist. "You just haven't seen me yet."
The confusion that sprung on his face made you laugh nervously. Simon fixed his posture to turn his body towards you. The light from the dimmed lamp behind you allowed you to see his face clearly. "If you don't want me to see, we can just turn the lights off..." You shook your head again and he furrowed his brows. "Then explain, because I'm kind of gettin' confused, love."
You sighed and moved on the bed, to sit cross-legged in front of him. You fixed the material of your sweater to cover your body a little more. "I don't want you to be disappointed."
Simon gasped, seemingly upset at your words. He couldn't have heard you correct. "Sweetheart." he called, sitting up. His hands found your shoulders, softly rubbing them with his thumbs. "Look at me."
"No, Si, it's just..." you sighed and crossed your arms over your chest, touching his hands. "My body probably doesn't look the way you imagined, there are all of those folds and those damn stretch marks, I just..."
"Sweetheart." he repeated, looking into your eyes and slightly shaking your arms to bring you back from those thoughts. Simon waited a couple of seconds before he let his hands slide down to your waist, gently caressing the plush of your sides. "Those are literally my favorites."
You blinked at his words a few times. "Favorites?" you asked, trying to hide the shock appearing on your face. Maybe also trying to hide how warm your cheeks had gotten.
"Trust me, I get a little crazy every time you show them off in those cute tops of yours or whenever you wear my shirts." he chuckled softly, his arms guiding your back to lie against the sheets. "Can't get enough of you."
Despite your worries, Simon made you feel loved in more ways than he believed he could. Especially when he looked at you so wholeheartedly, eyes moved down at your stomach that was showing after your sweater raised a little bit while lying down.
Before you managed to pull it down, Simon reached his hand down, looking at you for consent before he traced the lines spread over your skin. They were always sensitive, but this time the touch made you shiver slightly and look at his hand. He barely even touched them, and you began sucking in your stomach.
Simon chuckled at your actions, lowering his mouth to press a warm kiss to one of the lines, moving to the next one before you could think about it. His hands moved to cup your sides, holding you down, so you wouldn't squirm that much.
Your fingers intertwined with his hair, slowly playing with it and scratching at his scalp, showing him your approval. You liked it, a little too much, perhaps. Your breathing became shallow, watching the way he peppers your scarred skin with soft kisses, moving up your body until his lips met the material of your bra.
His eyes met yours, so close yet so far. You spread your thighs a little more, inviting him between them, so he could hook your legs over his. The movement made your body bounce off of his, your chest and stomach making a tiny shift, your cheeks getting warmer again. His hands rubbed the sides of your legs and moved up.
You couldn't help but look at him. His own eyes were focused on the way your chest moved. That shit-eating grin appeared on his lips as his fingers made their way up, making you subconsciously lift your back from the bed, helping him to unclasp the bra and take off your shirt.
Simon caught your lips to kiss them gently, still smiling as he moved his hands to your front, teasing the underline of your breasts. The pads of his thumbs felt so good on your skin, as if they belonged there from the start. His lips found the crook of your neck, first softly kissing, getting sloppier every time you tugged on the material of his hoodie.
The way your hips started to grind against his drove him insane, you could feel him get harder under the jeans he wore. You tilted your head a bit, giving him better access to the soft skin, allowing him to graze it with his teeth. Shyly, you moved your fingers under his hoodie, teasing his abs with your nails.
"No need to rush." he reminded you, gripping at your hip to ground you, his other hand reaching to graze your cheek. Simon looked up, catching you biting your lower lip to stop yourself from all those noises you were about to make, taking them as silly.
His thumb slowly slid between your lips, making your teeth free one of them. Placing another kiss on the corner of your mouth, he chuckled at the way you tried to chase after him. The pout on your face made his whole body warmer.
"I want it, Si." you started, looking into his eyes to see if he actually meant all of it, if he wasn't doing it out of pity or something worse. But you couldn't mistake the lust in them for anything else.
"Let me do all the work, yeah?" he cooed against your ear, nose teasing your cheek before he moved lower again, kissing his way down your body, stopping right between your breasts. He cupped them, watching the way your nipples hardened around his fingers.
You gasped, hips jolting against his looking or that friction you so desperately needed. "Sweet, sensitive thing, aren't you?" he whispered, moving his thumbs over the buds, teasing them. The feeling made you shiver again, legs wrapping a little tighter around him.
You looked away, trying not to think about the way you must have looked, but he quickly caught on to what you were trying to do. His fingers gently pulled on your nipples, rubbing them as he looked up at you. "Focus on me, beautiful."
Beautiful. The word rolled off his tongue so easily it made your heart flutter. Your hands gripped his sides under his hoodie, using your thumbs to trace some of the scars, smiling mindlessly as he praised you.
Soon enough, you forgot how to use your words properly. His lips wrapped around your nipple, while the other was covered by his palm, kneading your breast. He hummed happily, lapping at the sensitive bud as he closed his eyes. You could watch how passionate and excited he gets, more and more every time you allowed those soft moans to leave your mouth.
His hoodie was gone a long time ago, allowing your nails to dig into the skin on his back as he moved his way down, kissing the stretchmarks again. This time, though, his fingers hooked over the band of your sweatpants and underwear, looking up at you. "Think I can take them off, love?" he asked, his voice hoarse with arousal.
You nodded your head, shifting in your position to allow him to take them off. You gasped at the feeling of cold air hitting your core, already drenched. Simon's palms rested atop your knees, slowly spreading them as he lowered his body. You squirmed as his lips moved over your inner thigh, intensively staring into your eyes.
He couldn't stop his eyes from rolling when you tugged on his hair harder, arching your back when his thumbs spread your folds, tongue making a long lick from your tightening hole to your clit. "God." he groaned, immediately repeating his actions, already getting addicted to your taste.
His palm rested on your stomach, gently kneading it as he sucked on the sensitive bud, circling his tongue around it. You fought hard to keep your legs spread for him, soft gasps leaving your lips. You were slowly losing all sense of control, the more the pad of his thumb pressed at your clenching hole.
Soon, it slid inside, getting you used to the feeling of him inside of you. Simon's hips grinding rapidly against the bed, jeans already painfully tight over his bulge. Your hips matched the rhythm of his tongue on you, spreading your arousal over his face.
His index and middle fingers rubbed your entrance, making you hear the squelching sounds of your wet heat. Simon slowly pushed them inside, making your thighs tremble around his head, whimpering with pure need.
"Patience." he chuckled, sliding them in and out, soothing your walls and groaning at the warmth of you. Your name slipped from his lips when you pulled on his hair again, quietly begging him to continue lapping at your cunt.
Simon's lips curved in a smirk, leaving kisses all over your labia. His free hand unbuckled his belt, pushing his jeans down to his ankles. After he was done, he returned to licking various shapes over and between your folds before he sucked your clit.
The way you kept chanting his name, the soft whines of pleasure filling the room made his mind fogged up. His tip leaked over his boxers, but he didn't stop until your orgasm came crashing down your body. He made your back arch and legs shake against his ears, almost suffocating him. That was a sacrifice he was willing to make to hear you moan his name like this again.
Simon kept his face buried between your thighs until you came back from your high, looking down at him with those pleading eyes he couldn't say no to. His massive frame moved to the bedside table, leaning down to grab something from it.
You were panting as you watched his actions, the way he got back to you, guiding your legs to wrap around him. A satisfied grin appeared on his face as he got closer. Simon pressed a kiss to your temple, groaning as your fingers intertwined with his hair again.
His palm rested on top of your cunt, making you gasp. "Oh, you actually are a sensitive thing." he cooed, tapping your heat and enjoying the impact of your legs enclosing him. You squirmed and brought his head closer to yours, kissing him before your smaller hand reached down.
Simon locked his eyes on yours, humming with appreciation when your fingers traced the outline of his cock. Before he could remind you to be patient, you pulled his underwear down, earning a surprised hiss from him.
"Can you just wait a little more, love?" he whispered, beginning to mark your neck, while he pushed your hand away. Simon sat up, soothing your thigh with one hand while the other found the condom he got from his side table. He quickly opened the wrapper, throwing it somewhere next to you.
You felt more confident with your actions when you pulled on his tags as soon as he pushed the condom over his shaft. His lips met yours. Slowly, he teased your lower lip with his tongue, waiting for you to allow it inside.
You did, opening your mouth a little more, the same moment the tip of his cock rested over your clit. You whimpered, dragging your nails over his neck and back. Simon chuckled against you, pulling back just to look into your eyes again.
He craved to watch your reactions, every little movement of your lips, the flutter of your eyelashes. He especially loved the way you fought to not let your eyes roll back when he tapped his tip over your clit a few times.
One of your hands rested on his chest, the other playing with his hair as he coated his cock with your arousal. His face was mere centimeters away from yours when he supported his body on his forearm, you could feel his warm breath on your cheek.
You caught his eyes again, this time they expressed a silent question: "Are you sure?" Without waiting for him to say it out loud, you nodded your head. He smiled at your eagerness.
He didn't let you look away as he slowly pushed the tip in. The feeling of your walls clenching around him made him curse under his breath,. When you asked if he was okay, he furrowed his brows. "Okay? Fuck, love." he chuckled, closing his eyes as he rested his forehead atop yours. "You feel like actual Heaven."
At this point, you couldn't even express how happy you felt with him. Every word, every touch was soaked with his adoration towards you. Simon's breath started to get more shallow every second he thursted inside of you. He truly felt heavenly, mostly because of the way you clenched around him, but your sweet moans of his name drove him insane.
He felt like he was getting addicted to you, more and more every time you tried to grasp his arms or arch your back against him, making the soft skin of your stomach press against his abs.
His free hand reached down to where your bodies connected the most, thumb rubbing soft circles over your swollen clit. "Can you give me one more, baby?" he asked, smirking as your thighs started to close around him. Simon smiled teasingly as you nodded again. "Use your words for me, can you?"
"Mhm, yes, Simon." you whined as the tip of his shaft hit that spot inside of you.
He murmured something before he changed his position. He lifted his body so he could kneel between your legs, one hand holding your thigh, fingers digging into it while the other rested on your other thigh, sliding closer to your core just to continue rubbing your clit.
Simon's eyes met yours, that lustful expression never leaving them. You could see how lost he truly was, almost overwhelmed with how good he felt, trying to make you feel even better. His skin glistened in the dim light of his bedroom, covered in a couple droplets of sweat and accompanied by the many scars he gained over the years.
Your hand shyly reached down, tracing the tattoos on his forearm, trying to touch him however you could, you just needed to feel his skin under your fingertips. The hand that held your thigh moved to grab your hip, guiding your movements to meet his.
The sounds of skin slapping against each other made your face warmer with embarrassment, but you tried to focus on the tags on his neck, bouncing off his chest with every thrust of his hips.
You felt yourself getting closer, the coil in your stomach slowly getting tighter when he kept that steady pace, grunting your name while his head got thrown back. He tried his best to concentrate, but he was so touch-starved that it was difficult to wait that long.
"Need you closer, Si." you mewled, trying to pull him towards you and he nodded, leaning forward to rest his forearm next to your head again. Still holding your hip, he slowed his movements to allow you to accommodate.
"Close enough?" he asked, his teeth grazing over the skin of your collarbone. The moan escaping your lips was enough of an answer for him. Simon cherished the sounds you made, feeling something bigger than pride hearing them, combined with the sting of marks you left on his back.
And you were becoming louder by the second, your sounds made him feel dizzy and got him even closer to the edge. His thrusts turned erratic and sloppy, earning more clenches on your cunt around his cock.
Instead of circling your clit, he started giving it light slaps, repeatedly tapping the overly sensitive bud of nerves, before he got back to those soothing circles. Your mouth stayed open, brows furrowed from pleasure as you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer.
He bit into your shoulder, enough to let you feel just how feral you turned him. To mark you as his as much as he thought you deserved. The sharp sting of his teeth sinking into your skin made you cry out in both pain and pleasure, something so simple driving you insane.
You tried to tell him how close you were, but all you could manage to babble out was his name, over and over until the knot in your stomach uncoiled. Your moans, the shake of your legs, and that goddamned clenching made him cum deep inside of you with a sharp inhale, followed by a moan of your name.
You two stayed there, catching your breaths and looking into each other's eyes when wrapping your arms around each other. Simon buried his head in the crook of your neck, kissing the dark mark of his teeth in a soothing manner, his palm doing the same to the bruises on your hip.
He hummed against your skin, inhaling the calming scent of your skin before he moved his hips, just enough to slip out of you. Then, he lied next to you, one arm under your head while the other traveled over your body.
Starting with the valley of your breasts, moving down to rub your stomach and thighs, so tired from holding them spread all this time. You closed your eyes, loving the warmth of his body next to you, hand reaching to interlock your fingers. You kissed his shoulder and nuzzled your face in his chest.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable. And despite your worries, you didn't think about all those noises you made, he made sure to keep your mind occupied with his soft touches and sweet iloveyou's whispered against the crown of your head. You whispered them back, the vibration of your voice against his chest made him chuckle.
"My prettiest little thing, you did so well f'me." he cooed, playing with your hair. You nodded, accepting your new title without any doubts, slowly drifting off to sleep, leaving him to kiss your forehead for the last time before he got out of bed to clean you up
After taking care of himself too, he found you lying on your side, partially covered with his sheets, making him smile at the view. Simon rested behind you, wrapping his arm around your body to hold you close to him, joining you in the peaceful slumber.
Warnings: f!reader (afab), swearing, mentions of murder, this is not proof read.
Dividers by: @cafekitsune
Read part 1 here
Read part 3 here
Simon Riley prided himself on getting out of his previous lifestyle alive.
Owed his life to his Captain for bringing him out of the ice of his cold hearted fate.
So when all he had to do was join his team and ditch his old ways. Stop being the Ghost. He was more than a game.
He made some new allies, not sure if could call them friends. His team was surely closer to him than his old ones were.
He and Johnny were thick as thieves.
Teases him with ‘Ghost’ at terrible moments though.
“Ghost, got you a little souvenir from Scotland.”
“Johnny, the next time you say that name-“
Partners were something he'd rather not have though. For the pure fear of dragging them into the shit show he once called a life. He'd beat himself to death if he was the reason Price couldn't go home to his wife and kids. If Kyle didn't see his mom or his siblings. If Johnny never saw any of his sisters again.
Partners were just something Simon didn't want.
But life has an odd way of giving you what you try to avoid the most.
It just so happens he’s on his way to talk to Paula’s mother about an ex boyfriend of the victim. “Fillian Charles”
The trip to the woman’s apartment was a fairly large one, as she lived in one of the more richer sides of the city. At least he didn’t have to worry about random parking tickets that come amuck.
He gets to Mrs. Berry’s apartment and knocks on the door. Waiting patiently in the hallway before he hears a lock turning.
Simon is met with an older woman, in a sharp grey suit, pencil skirt, and all with black pumps. It's obvious she's dressed to impress. Minimal style jewelry and clean and precise updo. She comes from money. “Hello. Can I help you?”
Like clockwork, he pulls his badge out. Yet before he can introduce himself she sighs. “Another one? One of your partners is already here.”
The lieutenant’s brows furrow. “Pardon?”
No one was sent to talk to the victim's family. His hand itches to reach for his service weapon before the woman opens her mouth again.
“Come in.” She opens the door further, and what he sees just about has his head fly off his shoulders.
Your sat there at the woman’s kitchen table, drinking a small cup of coffee. When your eyes meet you give him a soft smile that hides a smidge of smugness.
There is a laptop in front of you, as well as a bouquet of flowers. Beautiful white roses, blooming as big as the size of Simon's palm.
“Took you long enough, Lieutenant. I already got everything you might need.” You grin. He almost misses you slip something into your coat pocket.
“Oh good. In that case am I able to-“
Simon raises his hand, stopping the mother in her place.“Just a few more questions, Mrs. Berry. I’m actually here to ask about a Fillian-“
“Oh that boy.” Mrs. Berry sighs. “Your partner here already asked about him. I’ve nothing to say about him. Now please.”
She passes Simon and opens her door. “Leave. I have nothing more to say and I am late for a meeting. If you need more answers-“ she glares at Simon. “Make an appointment.”
You stand up, leaving your cup at the table and nodding your head. Simon notices the laptop is in your hands as you reach up and into his coat pocket. His eyes are scalding hot as they glare at your invading fingertips, fishing out one of his cards.
“Please ma’am, if you have any sudden details just let us know.” You hand her not just his card, but another card as well. He presumes it’s yours.
You leave Mrs. Berry with a nod and step outside with her. Simon watches as she locks the door, leaving the two of you behind.
“Well, that went swell.”
It's like that's all that was needed to break the camel's back.
You feel the Lieutenant’s hand grip your sleeve as he drags you to the stair well and kicks the door open, pushing you in.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
You gasp. “Such language! And so rough! You can’t manhandle me-“
“What.” He ignores your dramatics. “Are you. Doing. Here?”
He looks at you up and down, you're wearing rather casual clothing. Blue jeans, a pair of sneakers, a generic graphic t-shirt, and a brown coat. The pockets are huge and would be easy for someone to pickpocket from. Unfortunately, he doesn't notice any notepads nor sneaky little trinkets he could snatch from you that may relate to your visit.
Your eyes hold his gaze. “I came to give my condolences.”
It really wasn't a lie. But you knew this guy wouldn't give you the chance to explain it at this given moment.
You genuinely had brought roses to a grieving mother. Even went as far as to pay for the funeral. Though Mrs. Berry insisted everything was covered, you left her something anyway. Honestly, it wasn't like she needed it, but it would cover the cost of taking in her daughter's two cats she just couldn't bear to give away.
She may come from money, but Paula was her everything. If the cats are the closest thing to grandchildren she could get. Then so be it.
“Bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit!”
He huffs a laugh. Pinching his nose while he begins to pace around. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?”
“Me? Why am I in trouble?!”
“Oh so you’re going to tell me you didn’t introduce you as my partner? In a homicide investigation? Asking questions about a woman’s dead daughter?”
You shut your mouth fast. You couldn't give away anything yet. You needed something to get this guy on your side. Or at least to let you on the case.
“This is insensitive is what it is. And what the hell is that?” He points to the laptop.
“Oh.” You look at the top of it for a bit before answering. “It’s Paula’s laptop-“
“And why the fuck do you have it?”
“Watch the language first of all-“
You stifle a gasp as he stalks towards you, a menacing aura on his person. Silently, you thanked any god out there for not having your back against the railing, or you were sure Riley would've flipped you over to the ground.
“Why do you have the victims laptop?”
His voice booms around the empty stairwell. So loud you feel the hairs stand up on your neck.
“She said she had stories she wanted me to read."
You hear Simon laugh as he rubs his cloth covered jawline. “Give that to me.”
You pull your arm back, holding the computer out of his grasp. “No!”
The two of you look at eachother in shock.
You couldn't believe how bold you were getting. And he just can't believe someone is stupid enough to do this. Simon blinks and reaches out again before you dodge him once more. “Oh I don’t have bloody time for this-“
He reaches into his coat, grabbing the cuffs on his belt and cuffing one wrist of yours while he rips the laptop out of your grasp.
“Hey!”
“I’m placing you under arrest.”
Your jaw drops again. Amusement would be the right word to describe the scene to anyone passing by.
“For?!”
He successfully cuffs your other hand, silently grinning at the wince you vocally give into as he tightens the cuffing. “Withholding evidence. Now shut up.”
…
You’re in and out of the interrogation room, smiling as Garrick helps you with your coat. “Thank you again, Miss (L/n). My mother’s going to lose her mind when she sees this.”
He’s holding a signed copy of your book.
Oh, the sight just makes Simon groan in defeat.
You could land in a pile of shit in front of anyone and still be praised as a sparking diamond.
Johnny passes Simon, placing a file on his desk as he looks at you and Kyle interacting.
“She’s a bottle of sunshine ain’t she, Ghost?”
“Shut up, MacTavish.”
“Just sayin.”
You make eye contact with the Lieutenant, a smug grin on your face as you walk right up to his desk. "Good luck." Johnny smirks, as he walks away to his desk.
“So when can I get that laptop?”
Simon sighs through his nose, eyes going back to his desk. “When the investigation is solved.”
“And when will that be?”
“When we find the killer.”
Your smile drops into a deadpan as you watch his shoulders shake up and down. He finds this funny.
“Okay. So what’s our next move?”
Pause.
“Our? Love,” he chuckles sarcastically, “there is no our. Your next move is to get out of my fucking sight.”
He stands up, picks up his mug and gives you a half assed salute before leaving his desk.
“Asshole.” You whisper. Looking down at his desk, you catch the file that reads ‘Pogo Print’. Something you’d be familiar with as you used the very print shop to print your first story to send to your publisher.
Without another word, and after seeing that no one else was looking, you slip it into your coat. Making your way out of the precinct.
It shocked you how easy that was.
It’s not something Simon notices when he sits at his desk right away with Paula’s laptop. But he does see that everything is fucking wiped from it. All except a notes app. “100 Gerrymander St. - Corner Cafe. <3”
Garrick and MacTavish swear they just about saw smoke leaving the Lieutenant’s ears as he slammed his coffee mug down so hard it shattered.
He doesn’t hear them calling for him as he rips his coat off his chair and charge at the elevator.
…
“(Y/n) (L/n) have you gone mad?!” You hear from the door way of the empty cafe.
You glance up from your tablet with a smirk, watching the big, bulky man march up to your table.
You wave off the cafe owner, who looks about ready to climb over the counter top. “Don’t worry, Lee. He’s a friend.”
“Friend?!” Simon’s eyes nearly bug out of his eyes. “I’d never consider you my friend if you were the last fucking thing on this planet.”
He can't explain where his rage is coming from. Just that he's angry. Angry that this is happening right in his neck of the woods. Right under his nose. Not even under his nose- it's all happening right in fucking front of him.
“Ouch, Simon.” You pout. “That hurts.”
He pauses at his name. “How-“
“You’re missing two cards in your pocket.”
Sure enough, you hold up one of his business cards. “You’re not hard to find on the police records either.”
He sits in front of you as you whistle, looking through your tablet. “Flying colors. You are truly, a mesmerizing soldier-“
“Enough with the chit chat, sweetheart. What happened to the laptop?”
You sigh once more, flipping the cover of your tablet closed and slipping it into your purse. You sit back, watching him for a moment. "Lee, can I get an Earl Grey to go please?"
The coffee shop guy is squinting his eyes at you. "You hate tea."
You nod, "That's very true, but my friend here,-"
"I'm not your fucking-"
"- might love it. Pretty please?"
Lee heaves a sigh before waving his hand. "Just don't get violent. It'll be out."
You give Simon a pretty smile, something he notices relaxes him for only a millisecond. One blink and he's back to his intense glare.
“First things first, we need to check this place out-“
“Again, there is no we-“
You sputter at him. As if him just saying no is going to stop you from this. In all honesty, you really wanted to solve Paula's case because you felt responsible.
“Do you want to solve this case? Then we need to get to business.”
“Miss (L/n) you’re not on this fucking case.” he can't even believe he's explaining this.
“Why not?!” You whine. “I can help!”
“You are the exact reason I am not at my fucking desk solving this shit.”
You purse your lips, clasping your hands together. “See now, you’re not wrong. However,” you pull the file out of your bag and all of the confidence that was oozing out of your pores dries away at the murderous fire in this man’s eyes as he sees the file in your hands.
You stay like that, frozen. The both of you. You don’t know if you should apologize or fucking run for the hills but you slowly place the file down anyways.
“I personally, know the print shop owner-“
“I do too, (L/n).” Simon inturrupts. “Do you know why?”
There's a tiny, only a smidge of sarcasm, dripping from his sentence. The rest is a bubbling volcano ready to erupt at the drop of a hat.
“Because we’ve fucking investigated the owner already. This part of it was already cleared. You are completely-"
You hold up a hand. “Okay- but did you know that Fillian worked there?”
The lieutenant blinks. “Sorry?"
He's confused. Because, no. No he didn't mention anyone that Paula knew worked there. Unless of course it's just cause he wasn't aware of the relationship in general.
“He used to work there. Right around the time Paula started dating him.”
Simon’s eye brows furrow. “Do you have notes from when you spoke to Mrs. Berry?”
“Nope.” You grin. As if that was the best news in the world to him. But there's something about your posture. The fact that you close your eyes while you speak is enough for him to know. You're an awful liar.
“It’s all up here.” You tap at your noggin. “And I can give you the rest of this info no problem.”
He watches you as you sit there with a blank smile. It’s quiet for only a moment before he finds himself pinching his nose once more.
“You said you were Kate’s friend?”
“Yessir!”
That's not going to make him feel better. Kate was a baster at bribery and light blackmail. Anything to get that woman a coffee or Danish in the morning. Do you need extra digging? It's gonna cost you.
A large sigh leaves the man. “What…what do you want in exchange.”
He almost regrets asking as soon as the words leave his mouth. Seeing the large grin grow on your face like a Cheshire cat has him bouncing his knee in anticipation for anything stupid.
“Let me interview you. Just a few questions from a span of maybe a month? Not consistently of course- and maybe I can tag along on-“
“Right. No. Absolutely not-"
“I would be far away from any danger and I’ll listen!” You press.
“Oh, will you now?” He nods sarcastically. “You’ll listen as well as you listened to me earlier?”
You drop your jaw. “The only reason I was being so difficult is because you were being so rude!”
“How do I know you’re not just trying to fuck up my case? Tamper with my evidence so this shit show doesn't point to you?”
“I wouldn’t do that!”
“I could arrest you. Do you know that?” He leans into you from his side of the table. “Withholding evidence, tampering with evidence, you stole a fucking file from my desk, and let’s not even begin with impersonating a police officer. You will be prosecuted and found guilty just like that.” He snaps his fingers at his finishing word.
At first he believes he’s finally got you rattled. Before you ruin it with “That was kind of sexy not gonna lie.”
Any sort of seriousness is blown away.
You hear him sigh and watch as he rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands before he looks at you.
“24 hours. You can start your ride along with me today and early in the morning tomorrow. We can do the interview in the precinct if we find something.”
You open your mouth to speak before he slams his hand onto the file and drags it back to him. “This is coming with me. You’re coming with me to the precinct. And fixing the bloody laptop. Am I clear?”
Simon compares you to a child on Christmas, the way your eyes light up and the way you bite your lip in anticipation. “Crystal. Let’s go, partner!”
Simon Riley × afab reader (they/them pronouns used)
TW: BDSM with no pre-set rules, consensual degradation, no after care
Words: 4,026
Some trashy smut by yours truly. Simon Riley catches you pleasuring yourself while clutching his shirt in the locker room and pushes you into telling him you want to be degraded by him. Title is pretty self explanatory.
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Simon always found himself frustrated with the non-comabt duties of being a Lieutenant, the monotony of paper-work and sitting at a desk making him feel like a caged animal.
He was able to avoid this for the most part, until he took a nasty fall during a mission, injuring his arm to the point where he needed a month of recovery.
Despite plenty of grumbled complaints on his part, he was taken out of commission and, even worse, saddled with a platoon of privates to train.
They were fresh, they were dumb, and Simon found himself taking his frustration out on any one of them who stepped out of line.
One Private in particular had caught his attention repeatedly. He wasn't sure what it was, but he found his eyes finding them day after day, berating them every time they fell over or held their gun slightly off.
He knew it was unfair, but something about standing over them and shouting them down was satisfying to him. The way they would quiver under his gaze as he got into their face, a pink flush spreading over their face.
He made excuses to himself, pushing it off as frustration or wanting them to do better. But every once in a while the thought nagged at him that maybe his focus on them was a little more then work related.
Sitting in his office one evening, trying to get some work done he glanced up to see them quietly walking past, a small bag held in their hand.
Just the sight of them and his frustration bubbled up, wanting to follow them and demand what they were doing up so late, walking past his office and distracting him.
He imagined it, thinking of how they would look as he planted a hand over them on the wall, growling at them about sauntering around the barracks at all hours, distracting him from his work.
He imagined their whimpered apology, imagined leaning closer
"If youre so intent on distracting me."
He would growl,
"Then come into my office and make yourself useful."
The image of them under his desk, that same flush on their face as they sucked him off pushed itself into his brain.
He could feel his cock pulsing as filthy images of them letting him push his hand into their hair as they soaked his cock with their saliva.
He pushed himself back from the desk with a start. Jesus, where did that come from? He admonished himself under his breath,
That's your subordinate, you sick fuck
The thought didn't do anything to dull the uncomfortable pressure between his legs.
He rose to his feet, deciding a cold shower would dispel the unwanted thoughts.
He made his way down the hall, glad to see it was completely empty as he made his way to the locker room.
Rounding the corner to the locker room Simon heard a sound that stopped him in his tracks. A voice, their voice coming faintly from inside the locker room.
He got closer, straining to hear what they were saying and he stopped dead as he realized they weren't talking, they were moaning. Their voice coming out choked.
"Sir, please."
Their voice was low and breathy, he could tell they were attempting to keep quiet but the echo of the locker room carried the sound to where he stood, filling him with a fiery rage.
Deep down he knew that he had no business deciding what his subordinates got up to while outside his training but this didn't stop the stream of rage fueled thoughts.
Who did they think they were, fucking somebody somewhere they could be heard so easily? And calling them sir? He was their superior officer, not whatever nitwit private was shagging them against the lockers.
He stilled himself, waiting to see if their was a response. His pulse thrumming in his ears. He was going to tear them and whoever they were shagging a new one.
There was a long silence, then a little gasp from their lips.
Simon rounded the corner, his vision too clouded with anger to grasp exactly how inappropriate he was being.
From over the lockers he could see the top of their head. Sat on one of the benches, alone. Simon couldn't see the rest of their body but catching a movement of their hand he realized with a start that they were touching themselves.
He told himself he should leave, that this was inappropriate. They weren't actually shagging anyone so he should just leave them to it. Or make a sound like he had just come in and not heard them.
But he didn't.
He approached them, moving with a practiced silence. He could see them now, back facing him, sat on a towel on the low bench. They leaned back in a position that didn't look fully comfortable, their shorts bunched around their spread legs.
He could see their hand moving in quick circles, the exertion spreading a pink flush over their back.
And over their nose was a shirt,
His shirt.
The thought landed just as he realized that his locker hung open next to them. That he must've forgotten to lock it that day after training.
Another quiet moan from their lips,
"Please Lieutenant."
Him,
They were thinking of him.
He did not think, before he acted. Purposefully setting a boot down heavy enough for them to hear.
Your POV
A sound that could only be described as a squeak fell from your lips as you heard a footfall behind you.
Scrambling you attempted to secure your shorts around your waist, as you turned your head.
As your eyes locked on a white skull mask your already sinking stomach hurtled to the floor. Another squeak, whilst you struggled to shuffle to your feet, shorts bunched low on your hips.
Snapping up to what remnants of a salute you could muster, you stared at him, eyes wide, entire body burning.
"Sir-"
You began weekly
"What were you doing private?"
His voice was low, dangerous. He eyes you, his eyes dark and unreadable.
"I- I'm so sorry sir. I shouldn't have- I should've..."
He took another step towards you,
"I didn't ask for an apology private. I asked you a question. What. Were. You. Doing?"
You couldn't dare meet his eyes, fuck you were done for,
"I was... touching myself Lieutenant, sir."
"Touching yourself."
He repeated you in a low, level tone.
There was a long pause and you wished that he would just take the gun from his hip and put you out of your misery.
"While holding my shirt."
It wasn't a question. You squeaked as you followed his gaze to your hand, realizing you were still holding the shirt. Your first instinct was to drop it but wouldn't dare let his shirt touch the grimy floor. You resigned yourself to your fate,
"Yes sir."
"Why?"
The single question was the worst possible thing he could've asked. Again, a bullet would be preferable to having to explain your feelings to the brick wall in front of you.
"Beacause I ah- sort of... like you... sir."
It sounds so lame, so fucking juvenile. He was your superior officer and you "liked" him.
He clicked his tongue, his expression still painfully unreadable.
"You like me, so you sit here and touch yourself clutching my shirt. S'that right?"
You nod pathetically.
"I'm out here cursing and shouting at you about trigger discipline, and you like me. Why is that private?"
This was hell, you were in hell. And he was here to torture you. God, you thought him torturing you would be fun. You were wrong.
"I... I dunno sir I guess I... like, that sort of... thing."
"You like it."
God you wished he would stop repeating you.
"So you think about me... what, shouting at you while you touch yourself?"
"Uhm, well not particularly."
"Then what?"
Was he asking you your kinks?
"Sir I don't think-"
He took another step toward you, and you could smell the scent of his aftershave.
"What do you think about private?"
You knew his low tone meant danger,
"You... degrading me... sir... calling me names."
"Names like what?"
Your voice was weak, the words hard to choke out,
"Like... you calling me, a- uh, slut."
Another long pause,
"Are you?"
"Wh-what... s-sir?"
"Do you think you're a slut? You, sneaking into my locker the one time I forget to lock it to get yourself off while you smell my shirt. Does that make you a slut?"
A whimper choked it's way up your throat,
"I... that is a bit um... slutty. Sir."
Another silence
"So you're a slut then."
Your breath caught in your throat, what was happening? He was supposed to be marching you out of here for a dishonorable discharge, not whatever this was.
"Sir?"
"Say it. Tell me your a slut."
Your stomach did a flip, pinned in his heavy, expectant gaze
"I'm a slut... sir"
It came out as a question, as you tried to puzzle out what he wanted from you.
He sighed. Apparently that was the wrong choice.
"Like you mean it private."
God with every sentence he unraveled you mentally more and more. At this point you just wanted to run but his hulking figure blocked ant escape route.
"I'm a slut sir."
The words hung in the air, and you scanned his face, waiting to see if that was the right answer to this surreal game
"That's right, was that so hard private? How am I supposed to call you a slut if you don't even believe it?"
Your mouth opened and closed, air completely gone from your lungs.
"Is it just me you think about... or would you be touching yourself for any superior officer who shouts you down?"
"N-no sir. It's just you. You're all I think about."
He cocked his head, and with a panic you realized how that sounded. Like you loved him. You searched for the words to explain yourself, to remedy the damage. None came.
"S'that right?"
He closed the distance between you more, towering over you. His body was so close your legs started to quake a little.
"A slut just for me then?"
Tilting his head to the side, he placed a hand on your hip. The touch sending a jolt of electricity to your core. His fingers skimmed lightly over the curve, continuing to stare as if admiring it. You were breathless, your gaze only able to fixate on his hand as it made smooth motions over your hip.
"Seems a bit odd then don't you think? If you're supposed to be my slut, for you to be here, touching yourself without even asking. Helping yourself to my things."
His hand gripped your hip tighter and you gasped, his words settling on your chest like a brick,
"Seems like you might need to be taught to keep your hands off of things that aren't yours, hm?"
"S-sir... I- I don't understand."
He chuckled darkly,
"What's not to understand private? You said you wanted me to degrade you hm? So are you going to be a good slut and let me, or were you jus' playing with me? Cause' I don't take too kindly to being played with."
"N-no sir... I want you to."
"Then take these off."
His hands tugged at your shorts, still rucked halfway down your hips.
Your movements were slow and unsure, looking at him for reassurance as you hooked your thumbs into the waistband.
He sighed at your hesitancy, reaching out with a fluid motion and pulling them down around your legs. You gasped, the cool air highlighting just how exposed you were as you stood naked in front of him.
"Back on the bench again pet. I want to see what you've been doing to my property. And let's be quick about it, I don't like my time being wasted."
As if there was motor controlling your actions, you sat back on the bench with a small thump, kicking off your shorts from around your legs.
Staring up at him, you felt like a dog waiting for a treat, wanting his approval desperately.
"Spread your legs."
The simple command sent warmth pooling at your core. You didn't give yourself time to second guess as you did as he asked, pushing your knees apart.
"Feet on the bench pet. Need to see how wet you've gotten yourself"
God he didn't even have to touch you and you were already a pathetic mess for him, whimpering while you exposed yourself to him completely.
The silence was heavy as he cocked his head to the side, staring at you. Through you. Assessing your most private bits like a butcher about to slice into a choice cut.
After a long moment he reached out a gloved hand, still eyeing you as he reached two fingers to spread you open, leaning in to get a better view.
It made you feel like some sort of lab experiment. Him, fully clothed, assessing and prodding your naked cunt with a cold precision.
You gasped as two fingers slid through your folds, slicking his hand with a thin sheen of your juices.
He held it up, regarding how you had soaked his glove, expression ever unreadable.
"Fuckin' soaked yourself, haven't you? Just the scent of my t-shirt and you're dripping wet."
He hissed a breath through his teeth,
"Absolutely filthy."
You gave a weak nod. He could say whatever he wanted about you, just as long as he kept talking like that. Kept looking at you like he was going to devour you whole.
Coming towards you again, he held his hand out toward your face.
"Clean it off."
Your face burned as you wrapped your lips around the fingers, meeting his eyes with a look that you hoped was sultry, trying to ignore the fact that looking directly into his face terrified you.
He rewarded you with a small grunt from deep in his throat and your insides felt like they would melt out completely.
Shifting the fingers deeper into your throat, he cocked his head to admire how deeply they pressed into your mouth, the rough tips of his fingers brushing over your tongue.
You sat up, reaching for him, wanting to feel the solid expanse of his chest through his shirt. But his bear-like paw caught your wrist, pulling it away.
"Tch, pet. What makes you think I should let you touch me? Without even asking nonetheless? This about teaching you to keep those filthy hands to yourself."
You gasped,
"I'm sorry sir. Please forgive me."
"Are you really?"
He dropped your wrist, and you wanted to whine at the loss of his touch.
"You don't seem sorry. You seem like a filthy little whore. Fucking yourself off in the locker room where anyone could see you. Gripping my shirt, touching your little cunt that belongs to me. Then as soon as I even touch you, you want to jump all over me. Fucking slut."
A pathetic whimper left your throat
"Please sir, I'm sorry. I can be good, I want to be good for you."
"Not sure if I believe you love. Might need you to prove yourself for me."
He wrapped a hand through your hair, tugging gently at the strands, tilting it to the side.
"But what to do with you hm? I'm sure this little throat would look good bulging with my cock, but you need to earn that."
"Maybe, since you're so desperate for me. You can hump my boot hm? Prove that little pussy is mine by grinding it into my boot while I watch."
Another dumb nod as his words turned you into a puddle.
His voice was low and husky,
"Get to it then pet."
You hesitated.
"Uh, here sir?"
"Where else?"
His tone was impatient, like you were a child he was explaining something very basic to.
"Shouldn't we go somewhere more... private, maybe?"
He laughed,
"Well pet, I don't think you thought of privacy when you were fucking yourself here, hm? 'Sides, if anyone walks in I'll tell them to fuck off. Or..."
He smirked at you,
"Better yet I could let them watch. Let them see what a little whore you are for your superior officer. It's my choice isn't it? Since you are my slut after all. So. Get to it."
Knees shaking, you dropped down in front of him, the cement floor cold against your bare legs.
You looked up at him, dark eyes drinking you in as you awkwardly shifted yourself to hover over his boot, trying not to grip his leg too hard. His expectant gaze heavy as you gave a hesitant grind into the leather of his boot.
The material was smooth and hard against your soaking cunt, the seams around the toe cap dragging across the squishy flesh in a surprisingly pleasant way.
You rocked yourself forward, attempting to find a rhythm against the unyielding leather but struggled to find purchase without clutching onto the Lieutenant's leg like a child.
You continued to grind pathetically, not daring to meet Ghost's eyes as you made your sad attempt to fuck his boot.
A hand in your hair, grasping a fistful of strands loosely,
"Harder pet."
Whining pathetically, you desperately tried to work yourself against the smooth leather harder, the slickness between your legs causing you to slip, ass meeting the cement floor.
His grip in your hair tightened a little and your mind went fuzzy with the firm pressure of his hand tugging at your head,
"Mm, this is pathetic isn't it? Can't even fuck my boot properly. Thought you were my slut, hm? Guess I shouldn't bother."
He made a motion to pull away from you, and the horror of loosing his attention made all attempts at retaining your dignity fly out the window.
Upon instinct, your arms locked around his leg desperately. Your face pressing into the rough material of his jeans as you shoved your hips against his leg sloppily.
"Please sir... I- ah fuck- I can do it sir. Plese let me."
Wanton whimpers fell from your lips as you rutted your hips against him, focusing on nothing but your slick cunt sliding over his boot.
He chucked darkly, pursing his lips at you, almost mockingly,
"That's better pet. Look at how desperate you are for me. Like a bitch in heat, aren't you?
"Mm, yes sir. G-god I need it."
You kept going, your cunt making obscene squelching noises as your slick coated his boot almost completely.
Another tug at your hair, pulling so your chin pointed up at him,
"Look at me while you do that pet. Wanna see how dumb your eyes look while you grind into me."
You already knew they did. It was like every braincell you had was melting out from your aching cunt and onto his boot.
"Yeah, that's a good sight. Dumb little pet, humping my fucking boot. Down where you belong."
His hand unraveled from your hair to move to the front of his jeans,
"Now, pet. I'm gonna get my cock out, and I'm gonna stroke myself off. And you're gonna watch, an' keep fuckin' my boot so I can use that pretty mouth to cum, yeah?"
You nodded, desperate hunger plain on your face,
"Yeah, I knew you'd like that. Fuckin desperate to swallow me aren't you."
You swallowed thickly as he unzipped his jeans, pulling out his cock and running a hand over the thick length.
It was like you were studying a fucking art piece, tracing each raised vein under the slightly red skin with your eyes. You wanted to touch it, to feel the soft warmth in your hands, to see how small they looked wrapped around it. To hear his soft grunts as he pressed it into your throat. But you didn't dare try to touch him again, contenting yourself to grind your aching cunt over his boot as he began to stroke himself with quick, languid strokes.
"This what you've been wanting pet? To be my little toy to make do whatever filthy little thing I please?"
His words were intercut with soft guttural grunts, his hand moving over his prick with precise strokes.
You gasped out an agreement, clutching to him like he was a god you were worshipping with each rut of your hips.
"S'what I thought love, greedy little thing you are. Don't worry pet, now that you've shown me who that little cunt belongs to I fully intend on using it. Whenever I like."
He accented his statement by shifting the tip of his boot to press up, further into the folds of your pussy, drawing a gasp from your lips.
His words sent another gush of heat coursing through you. Your Lieutenant, Ghost, wanted to fuck you. Wanted to use you in whatever way he pleased. The thought sent you into a near frenzy, thrusting against his boot with quick, needy strokes.
You both set your own wordless rythym, him pumping a single, strong hand over the length of his cock as you kept pace with your desperate grinds of his boot. Your small gasps and his quiet grunts the only sound passing between you.
He leaned his head back, his strokes becoming shorter and quicker as you could see his peak approaching. A single, large hand shot out and gripped your hair, pulling your face towards him.
"Open."
The single word was all you needed to stretch your mouth wide, your tongue outstretched and waiting for him.
He looked down at you, his dark eyes hooded.
"Fuck you look perfect like that. Little slut all ready to swallow my cum."
He pulled your face closer to his cock, tapping the head of it against your tongue a few times, his pre already leaking into your mouth.
He hissed out a shallow breath as a few more strokes brought him to his peak, ropes of his cum painting your tongue and lips. His voice was choked as his cock twitched, grip on your hair tightening with his unraveling.
"S'a good slut. G'na swallow me yeah?"
You nodded, the movement brushing his cockhead lightly over your tongue causing him a final twtch as the last of his cum dripped onto your tongue.
He breathed deeply, watching you as you pulled your tongue in, his taste filling your mouth.
"Mm, that taste good pet?"
You gave a swallow,
"Yes sir."
He smirked,
"You haven't finished yet though. Look at this mess you've made of my boot. Absolutely soaked it "
He nudged the glistening boot toward you,
"Clean it up."
Your hazed over brain couldn't comprehend his meaning. You reached out with a tentative hand to wipe your juices from the leather of his boot.
"Stop."
He sighed,
"You really are like a dumb puppy aren't you? Need me to spell everything out for you? Lick. It. Up."
A flush filled your face. Stooping, you pressed your tongue to the tip of his boot, the tang of your arousel mixing with the earthy taste of the leather.
Planting a hand on either side of the boot, you lavished long strokes over it, not wanting to chance not doing a good enough job. You didn't stop to look back up at him until you were sure you had reached every drop.
Meeting his eyes, you saw his head cocked as if he had been admiring the sight of you licking his boot.
"That's a good pet."
He knelt to your level, tilting your chin to meet his eyes.
"And now, you're gonna go back to your bunk to rest. And you're gonna keep those filthy hands off of my things."
He leaned in close, his voice low.
"Cause' if you lay a finger on that little cunt. I'll know. And I'll fuckin' wreck you. Understood?"
You nodded weakly,
"Thas right pet. Course..."
He tilted his head,
"I might just wreck you anyway."
He rose, his boots retreating from your sight as you lay on the cold floor, still breathing heavily.
Summary: You are an exhausted medic and Ghost wants to help you catch some Zs.
CW: unprotected sex, semi-public (private, in a public area), slight degradation, praise.
TW: pussy, hole, clit.
You haven’t gotten any sleep for a few days now. Just working none-stop. If you’re not patching up soldiers back to good health, you’re filling out copious amounts of paperwork. Even the little free time you get, it’s always spent awake and frustrated. Your mind betraying your body as always.
Simon Ghost Riley, is a frequent visitor, has come to get patched up again. It still baffles you how much his body has gone through yet it’s still functioning almost perfectly. The amount he’s endured would drive any person mad.
Thankfully he’s not too wounded just a few slits on the biceps. You grab your supplies and proceed to do your job. “You look tired.” He says, concern laced in his words.
“Heh, yeah haven’t slept in a bit. Nothing to worry about.” You say avoiding eye contact.
“I can help with that.” You laugh it off not sure what he is implying by his statement. “I’m serious. A good fuck might help you sleep.” You swiftly look up at him, shocked at the sudden vulgar implication. You look in his eyes hoping it is just his way of joking around.
But no, he seems dead serious about this. “I-I don’t know…” You can’t believe you’re even contemplating this. It should be completely out of the question. He’s not just your superior but he’s also your PATIENT. No matter how you like at it, it’s completely inappropriate.
You finish patching him up and stand, “If you’re not interested, I won’t force you but I’d love to pleasure you.” He says as he puts his hoodie back on. You bite your lip as you look away. Fuck, you really do want this. “Ok.” You sigh succumbing to your desires. His face lights up. He quickly flips you onto the bed, face facing the pillow below you.
He unbuttons your pants and removes them enough to expose you voluptuous ass and soaking wet pussy. He slowly inserts two of his fingers and it’s already too much for you. You’re so out of practice and his fingers are so big. He starts moving in and out of you, pace already quick and deep.
“If someone walks in, we’re fuuuuuuccckked.” You manage to spit out as he fucks you with his fat fingers.
“Well, we better be careful then.” Ghost replies. He removes his fingers and you look behind you to see him. He pulls out his cock. It’s huge, pre-cum already dripping from the tip.
You moan as he slides his cock into your hole. The stretch slightly painful as he goes deeper into you. He stays in place to let you adjust. “Fuck you’re giant.” You gasp, feeling so full as you try to take a deep breath.
You start moaning uncontrollably as he starts moving in and out of you. “You moan like a slag, Love.” He says smirking as he fucks into you deep. The headboard slamming into the wall rhythmically as you moan loudly.
“Fuuuuck Simon…!” you tense as you start feeling your orgasm nearing.
“As much as I love your moans, Love, we don’t want someone to hear you now, do we?” You try to suppress your moans but you realize it’s way too difficult. You bite the pillow to muffle them.
“Simon I’m gonna- gonna cum!” You warn as you get close to the edge.
“Already?” He asks.
“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m s-sorryyy.” He starts rubbing you clit and you gasp at the touch, bucking you hips closer towards the bed.
“Cum for me then, Sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear. “Yeah that’s it cum all over my cock.” You start to clinch around him and he groans.
You orgasm as Simon’s name flows out of your mouth, clinging to the pillow for stability. He pulls out, cock still hard, and lets you catch your breath.
“Wait, Si, you didn’t cum.” You slightly turn to look at him. He pulls your pants back up and zips it closed.
“Don’t worry about me.”
“At least let me suck you off.”
“This was all about you, now get some rest.” He kisses your forehead and covers you with a blanket.
Once your head lays on the pillow, exhaustion washes over you and you submit into sleep.
