When you approach him with a peculiar request, he gives you one of his trademark shrugs—the king of nonchalance, he is.
"Whot's a bit more metal in my dick, eh?" he jokes before turning his attention back to the telly and the football match he's watching; sipping his beer with one arm propped behind his head, splayed out on the couch like a lazy alley cat on his rare day off.
And with his permission, you buy sounding rods, curious as you are, a toothy smile playing on your lips when you put the sex toys in your virtual shopping basket; mentally telling yourself repeatedly that you'll give him the most mind-blowing orgasm he's ever had.
Orgasms your fiancée will remember even if he's thousands of miles away from you.
Three days later, the package arrives, and Simon is peeking over your shoulder as you rip open the brown box on the plush carpet in your bedroom, cross-legged like a happy teen on Christmas Eve.
"Two?" He clucks his tongue, suddenly suspicious. "Why two?"
You show him the first one, holding it up for him to inspect like Rafiki presenting Simba to Pride Rock.
They're both stainless steel rods. One six inches with barely a few millimeters in diameter, the other eight inches with tiny bumps and ridges along its length, and the slightest bit thicker, too.
You push the small button at the top of the second one and it begins to vibrate gently.
"This one's a vibrator!" you announce with glee while Simon's throat bobs as he swallows thickly.
That evening, you have him lay down naked on your comfortable king-sized bed, right in the middle of it, while you dress up in your sexiest pair of panties—just for him—with your pretty tits out and your eyes twinkling as you drink in the view, sitting on your haunches next to him.
"Should take tha' off, too," he mutters with a playful tug on the lacey waistband, "and sit in on my cock instead."
You tut, swatting his hand away while he chuckles gruffly.
"I'll get there eventually, Riley."
He's already half hard when you dribble a generous glob of clear lube onto the deep flushing tip of his cockhead. The three silver ladder piercings on the underside of his thick shaft start glinting in the dimmed light as you spread the slick down his whole length, teasing the thick, pulsing veins with your fingertips until his breath starts hitching.
"Fuckin' love yer hands," he groans as you start stroking him with both hands, his head hitting the pillow with a dull thud as you twist your wrists rhythmically, massaging him throughly.
"What was that?" Your hands still, gripping the base of of his now twitching prick as you fix him with a stern look and an arched brow.
A brief pause. His bulky chest heaves, then: "Fuck... fuckin' love yer hands, mommy."
You smile adoringly at him when he peers down at you, and next, his cheeks flush as deeply as the tip of his cock.
"Yer killin' me, sweet'art." His chest rumbles with another groan and his head lolls back again. You giggle softly and your hands continue to pump his slick, silky flesh.
And you keep jerking his prick one handed while reaching for the first rod with your free hand, lubing it well before bringing it up to his little piss hole.
"Relax for me, yeah? Tell me if it hurts, baby." You instruct him gently and wait for his nod.
Simon does nod, and you pull his foreskin taut to rub the cool tip around his weeping, fluttering slit, eagerly oozing with precum when you push the sleek steel inside carefully, watching in awe as his cock swallows it up with ease.
"Oh... f-fuck, m-mommy," Simon moans roughly, back bowing off the mattress while his thighs tremble at the pleasurable intrusion.
"Feels good?" And Simon nods more eagerly. "Y-Yeah... feels fuckin'–" He exhales a shuddering breath. "Fuckin' brilliant."
He's fisting and twisting the bedsheets, dark eyes blown black with lust and squeezing shut, his other hand groping your supple thigh as you push the rod in deeper while stroking his cock, and it's both a mesmerizing sight and a strange mix of power and arousal now coursing through your veins, like you're high on the pleasure you're giving him.
The room is filled with his musk, the sticky scent of lube and pre, the slow shlick shlick shlick of your firm hand pumping his length while you simultaneously fuck his tiny hole with the sounding rod, the gusset of your panties already soaked with your own syrupy slick.
Then he gasps. "M-Mommy, 'm ah–close!"
And you slow down, rubbing your thumb along his smooth piercings, toying with the barbells lazily as you slowly pull out the rod again, only keeping its tip inside his slit while rolling the steel between the pads of your thumb and index, teasing and edging him while his chest heaves with panting breaths, his calloused hand squeezing the fat of your thigh harder until his fingers leave imprints on your supple skin.
"You're not gonna cum until I tell you to, you hear me, sweet boy?"
Simon whines low in his throat, bucking his hips slightly while his muscles clench and flex.
"Yes," he answers roughly, and his face twists in a pleasure-pained grimace, "yes, mommy."
When you're sure his cock is ready and properly prepped, you pull the sleek rod from the depths of his urethra before grabbing the vibrator.
"Ready, Si?" He nods breathlessly, observing you with hazy, half-lidded eyes.
Another big drop of precum oozes from his stretched hole and you lick your licks, utterly thirsty, as you squeeze his shaft, up his mushroomy tip while you watch it dribble down your knuckles before you insert the other sounding rod.
The small bumps and ridges disappear inside his prick, stimulating the sensitive canal as you fuck him with it, eliciting a myriad of hitching breaths and wanton moans from Simon.
"Remember, don't come yet." You're smiling as you remind him before pushing the button, bringing the rod to a soft, steady buzz that makes his eyes widen and his back arch off the mattress.
"Oh, fuck!"
You keep a firm, steady pace as you stroke his cock, amping up the vibrator to the second setting while pushing more inside his hole, down his long prick. He's whining and bucking at this point, causing your smile to widen and your heart to flutter.
"That's right, baby. You can take it all, hm? Such a fucking good boy for mama."
Tears are pooling in his tawny eyes as he babbles curses under his breath, staring at the ceiling while the thick veins in his neck and arms pulse, and his toes curl against the bedding—trying not to combust as his vision starts blurring and his mind clouds with tension and desire.
"Need to cum, mommy, please–" he pleads through clenched teeth, unable to look at you while you tease him mercilessly.
You push the button again and the buzz becomes louder, deep inside his cock, until you feel it around your palm. His cock throbs violently as he cries out, nails digging into your thigh while his other hand slaps against the mattress.
But you keep the rod deep inside, pushing the button again and fourth time as you pump his length faster from root to tip, tits jiggling at the movements.
"You wanna come that badly, baby? Huh? Wanna paint my pretty hands with your fat load, hm? No fucking patience. What a surprise, Riley!" you taunt him condescendingly, watching him squirm under your spell.
He's panting wildly like some dog, nodding once more while a drop of sweat trickles down his temple. "I know, I know, 'm sorry. Fuck, p-please, yes, please! Let me cum!"
There's no trace left of Ghost in this moment; tere's only Simon, your good, sweet boy, and it's exhilarating.
You kiss your teeth while something tugs at your heartstrings—and throbs between your thighs. "Awww, begging me so, so sweetly," you coo. "How could I ever deny someone as sweet and handsome as you, Simon?"
He groans again when you say his name so sugary sweet, your voice dripping down his ear canals like warm blossom honey, causing his pale, scarred skin to pebble with gooseflesh and his small nipples to tighten almost painfully.
And then you push the vibrator inside its whole length before leaning forward to spit on his prick, finally jerking him off like you mean it.
Simon snarls, baring his teeth, nostrils flaring, before his face twists in pleasure, and he cries out your name, huffing and groaning desperately as his climax puts him in a chokehold, eyes rolling back into his skull.
His fat balls draw up tight against his body, and then his small hole gapes more around steel as his cock erupts with thick, hot ropes of cum—a seemingly endless stream of milky white running down your hands as you squeeze and stroke him through his orgasm.
Biting your bottom lip, you press your thighs together, needy for friction against your swollen clit as you watch him come apart under your touch and guidance.
"There you go... good boy," you purr softly, slowly pulling out the vibrator and clicking it off while his mass shudders and trembles with intense aftershocks. "Fucking beautiful, baby."
You continue to stroke him, and Simon whines and mewls when another orgasm wrecks through him; cock pulsing and throbbing weakly in your grasp as a smaller load of cum spurts from his dilated slit.
"Please, m-mommy, I–I can't–" he sobs, patting your thigh meekly while his hips buck.
"Alright, fine." You're grinning triumphantly as he lets out a shuddering, blissful sigh.
His shaft goes limp in your hand, softening and turning half its size with loosened foreskin, though it keeps twitching until you finally let go, allowing him to take a deep breath.
"So good for me, Si," you coo as you clean him and your hand up with a spare towel. Then you're kissing his pubic bone and getting tickled by his dark blonde bush.
"My good, sweet boy." He whimpers as you kiss and bite the pudge of his lower stomach, then up his bulky muscles, his buff chest—peppering each centimeter with a lingering smooch until you reach his face.
Simon wraps both arms around your back, corded muscles flexing to keep you anchored to his warm body, bare tits flush to his chest.
"Minx." He huffs, nudging his forehead against yours in a gentle headbutt, like a cat showing affection. "Was nearly sent to another early grave there."
You snort. "Don't say that." And you bump your nose against his, nipping at his bottom lip.
"I love you," you murmur, finally kissing his lips and slipping your tongue into his mouth, greedy for a taste, and he lets you, while one large hand comes up to cup the back of your head, fingers splaying to gently scratch at your skull.
He's smiling against your sweet lips, utterly sated and wrecked, his heart soaring with content and adoration.
loyalty of a guard dog - sub!simon riley x dom!reader (18+ MDNI)
y’all seem to enjoy smut sooooo… have submissive simon riley to tide you over while i finish writing the second part of psychopathy (and the next chapter of in sickness and in health i PROMISE ITS COMING)
cw: dom/sub dynamics, explicit smut, simon has a pantyhose fetish, if you squint there’s stuff with feet (sorry not sorry)
masterlist
simon can’t remember how it started. can barely remember life without you in it, if he’s honest. you have been his tether to sanity for longer than he would like to admit. when everything gets to be too much, the demons in his mind and his past too loud, you are his solace.
but it’s time like this that that part is hard to remember.
the power dynamic at play could not be any more obvious than it is right now. he’s achingly hard. the pain in his knees is starting to burn from where you have him kneeling on the hard wooden floor of your flat, his hands palm up on the top of his thighs - the perfect symbol of devotion, of submission. and you, lounging in front of him without a care in the world. you, still fully clothed, one beautiful leg crossed over the other, while he is fully nude. his neglected cock bobs, desperate for even the smallest bit of attention. his pale, scarred skin is flush, the bright red of a heady mixture of embarrassment and arousal that makes his head spin.
his chest is heaving, a pathetic whimper bubbling in his throat as he stares up at you. you glance down at him, the tiniest smirk playing on your plush lips as you watch him.
“somethin’ wrong, si?”
oh, gods, he’s so fucking gone that even watching the way your lips form around the silk sweet words that come out is fucking pornographic. the whimper finally breaks free as he tries to find the words that are dancing on the tip of his tongue. he swallows thickly, keeping his gaze locked on yours.
“please… please, let me touch you. i just wanna touch you. i’ve been… i’ve been good,” he rasps out.
your smirk widens as his words wash over you. you uncross your legs, teasing him with what lay at the glistening apex of your thighs. “you wanna touch? that all you want?” you reply, voice dripping with smug seduction. you have him right where you want him, hanging on to your every word, and wrapped around your little finger.
simon’s eyes roll back, the desperation and burning need for you, for anything, becoming almost unbearable. but, before anything else, he was a soldier, a loyal guard dog, and a dog follows orders. you told him not to move, to sit and stay, and he would listen, even as his weeping cock, almost purple with pulsating need, bobs up and down to try and get any sort of stimulation. “please, i just need you. need to make you feel good. need you. so, so bad. please, let me have you.”
you hum softly, your deft fingers tracing lightly over your chest, down, down, down until they reach the damp spot between your thighs. you tap the spot once, twice, three times, withholding the jolt of pleasure from showing in your face with an iron will. simon would do anything for you, devotion to the point of obsession, but what he didn’t know is that you would do the same for him. and sometimes, that meant this - teasing the man until he was nearly delirious with need, so deep into that perfect floaty space that he craves so badly after a particularly rough time. your pleasure, at this moment in time, is entirely irrelevant. you have to take care of your boy. “well, how can i deny such a compelling request from my pretty boy, hmm?”
you stand up slowly, letting the skirt of your dress fall back over the sheer black fabric of the tights you have on underneath as you send up a small thanks to whatever deity is listening that you decided to dress up for work today. it drives simon crazy to see you all done like this. you take a single step closer, then another, and another, and another, until you are a mere inch away from where he is kneeling. as you look down at him, you can see the way his body is vibrating as he holds back from touching you. his gaze is pleading, his scarred bottom lip sticking out slightly in a subconscious pout. you bring your hand up to cup one of his cheeks, a small smile playing on your own plush lips.
“you’re so pretty, you know that? such a good boy for me. you look so perfect on your knees like that for me,” you whisper, your voice light with affection as your thumb strokes his cheekbone. “how about this, hmm? tonight, we start slow,” you explain quietly as you bring your foot up to rest against his aching cock.
“it’s late, you just got back from deployment, and i want you to feel good,” you continue as you apply a little more pressure to his cock, which causes him to lean forward slightly, a light whine of pleasure pushing past his lips. “so, no touching with your hands. however, i give you full reign to put that beautiful cock to work between my legs. how’s that sound, love? hmm?”
simon blinks up at you, his pupils blown with wanton desire. it takes a moment for your words to sink in, but as you adjust your stance to better allow him to slot his cock between your stocking-clad calves, he nods vigorously. he lifts his hips up to nudge the head of his cock between the silky nylon, and his eyes roll back in his head again. the bright red flush that has been covering his skin flares back to life, that same mixture of embarrassment and arousal kicking into high gear as he starts to fuck into your calves.
he’s a whining, shaking mess as he tries to get off. but it’s hard not being able to touch you, to not be able to make the pressure between your legs just right, to have to focus all of his energy on staying upright as he fucks into you, or to even just feel the way the black tights you pulled on this morning before going to work feel underneath his palms. the only relief he gets is being able to feel the drag of the silky nylon catch on the head of his cock as the precum dribbling out of him soaks the fabric in earnest.
he feels your fingers tangle in his short, curly blond locks as his hips piston into you, and a wanton moan rips from between his lips as you yank his head back, exposing his throat to you. he hears you laugh, a dark, lilting thing that draws him in like a siren. it’s a promise wrapped in a barbed paper - it’s going to be a long night. “look at you, si. such a pretty fucking cock. too bad it’s being wasted on some stockings, isn’t it? but it just feels too good, doesn’t it? you love the way it feels, and you love being on your knees and humping me like the perfect dog you are, huh?”
he nods again, another pleasured whine pushing past his lips as the motion tugs on his hair deliciously. he knows he should be answering with his words, but he is far too gone to have any semblance of ability to speak coherently. his heart races in time with his hurried, erratic thrusts, his breaths ragged and filled with pleasure as he barrels towards his release. he forces his eyes to open so he can look up at you, his head thrown back in pleasure, his eyes half-lidded and pupils blown.
“please, let me cum. lemme cum, love, please. wanna be so good for you, just… just let me cum.”
you smirk, biting your lip and letting your own head fall back to break the eye contact, pretending like you have to think about it. his pace picks up again, his thrusts so sharp and quick that for the briefest of moments you worry about the possibility of his cock getting the equivalent of rug burn. buy, he hasn’t tapped out verbally or non verbally, so you push the thought aside. you tap your chin, really playing up the theatrics of making this decision before you sigh a little dramatically. “alright, since you asked so sweetly, i give you my permission to cum.”
it does not take long after that word is out of your mouth for his release to come barreling towards him. one thrust more, and his cock is spurting out cum onto the floor behind you, his thrusts become haphazard as he chases the last bits of his orgasm. his breathing is heavy as he starts to come down, his cheek coming to rest on your thigh. you smile, a sense of pride filling your chest as you reach down to cup his cheek again as you let him catch his breath. he nuzzles into your touch before turning his cheek slightly to press a gentle kiss into your palm. you stroke his cheek lovingly as you watch him, looking for any immediate signs of subdrop.
“color?” you ask softly.
“green,” he mumbles against your palms with a smile on his lips. “i fuckin’ love you in stockings.”
you laugh softly, shaking your head slightly in amusement. “c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up and in bed. i promise cuddles and a chinese takeaway for the night with our favorite shitty reality show reruns, yeah?”
——————————— fin ———————————
(lol that turned out SO much longer than i expected it to be l m f a o but ah well, the brain worms had to be fed. anyways, eat well lovelies and don’t forget to always practice kink safely!!!
Simon didn’t know he’d like being submissive as much as he did. Didn’t know how much he’d enjoy turning his brain off and being your good boy. He spends all day giving orders, being in charge of literal lives. Spends all day yelling, what’s so wrong about coming home and whimpering? Spends all day giving orders, what’s so wrong about wanting to be told what to do. Spends all day in charge of life and death, what’s so wrong about only wanting to be in charge of your pleasure. Nothing wrong with swapping the balaclava for a collar, right? Nothing wrong with wanting to be on his knees in front of you after spending all day looking down on others. So what if big bad Ghost likes to come home and get fucked until he cries? It’s not a big deal right?
Simon with a collar on, held by a leash and head thrown back as all he does is slam into you, your sweet praises filling his ears.
"Good boy." You'd moan, feeling his big cock fill you up as you just take it. It's all you needed, your sweet baby to fuck you from behind as you disconnect. And good thing you had an obedient man that did anything you wanted eagerly.
"You feel so good, baby." He'd groan at your words and look down at your thick ass bouncing with every slam of his hips into you, watching his cock spread your cunt again and again. He'd grab a handful of your ass fat, growl like the filthy animal he was and slam harder, earning a good scream from you.
Filthy fucking girl. He'd spit out if he could, but it didn't matter. He was just as fucking filthy, collared up, leash in your land pulling him towards you, owning every fiber of his being, ordering him to slut himself only for you. You owned him anyway. Yes, you fucking did. With every order, every touch, every glance, he was yours to command.
And he thrived when you did. Simon was made to be your dog, your rabid animal that only you could take and tame, even if at times the leash was for decoration, since taming him seemed to be the last thing you wanted.
Rough, dirty, filthy, all he had to do was pound your cunt and manhandle you. As he just was, lost himself in your core, mind dizzy, no other thoughts but you, his owner, mistress, love.
And as he watched you throw your head back, he put his hand around your throat to keep it there. The moan he got from you drove him wild, just as the way you pulled the leash onto you, making him lean down, glue his torso to your back as he still fucked you raw, rough and good.
"That's it, baby. Give it to me harder." Orders whispered into his ear as he held your throat still, by his head, and braced himself, spreading his legs for stability and plummeted, his heavy breathing hitting your ear.
And as you threw your head back, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, you saw it in his eyes, the way he was lost into the passion of the moment, teeth gritted and sweat falling from his temple. He was reduced to his most animalistic instinct, all he truly craved the moment you put that collar on him.
Lost in your dripping cunt, you smiled at him, your temple touching his, feeling his other hand take a handful of your tit and groan, the vibrations of his chest hitting your back, cock burried deep inside of you.
"My sweet baby." You coo, feeling it arrive. A wave of ecstasy as your whole body burns in heat, and he feels it too, as if connected, and bites into your neck, slurping on the sweat and meat, one objective in mind. And while all he chases was you cumming and creaming his cock, he agrees with you. He is sweet, isn't it? He slams into you, hearing your whines. He's being so good for you, isn't he? He slams again, his grip on your throat tightens, and so does your cunt around him. He's your good boy, yeah? He felt it, your pussy spasming. You love him, don't you? He drilled harder.
And as you finally came, screaming like a desperate whore for him, he saw you fall to the side and smirk at him, dizzy, breathless, heavy tits lifting and falling with each of your pants. And you looked up at him, smirking, knowing he isn't done. He kneeled on the bed, panting hard, waiting. Cock hard and wet, your cream at his base and pre-cum leaking from the tip. And he waited.
"Aww, baby. You aren't done, aren't you?" You coo and tease, adjusting to lay on your back and spread your legs, then with a quick movement of your wrist, you pulled the leash towards you.
"Come here, puppy. Fill me up good, yeah?" It was all he needed to hear before he descended onto you.
POOKIE!! hear me out a fic for an extremely sub!ghost like to the point where he's on his hands and knees literally sobbing his heart out because he wants to eat you out and you're denying him because you're just enjoying watching him beg but eventually you give in
(I'm ovulating don't judge me im not usually this cruel 😭)
pookie… I see and hear you, I feel you in my bones we’re jumping straight in
CW: Fem!Reader, Sub!Ghost, weepy Simon Riley to soothe the soul… and other things, clothed humping, oral (fem!receiving)
tactical gear still fastened and balaclava tugged up just over his nose, the sight before you has your thighs pressed together as you sit on the edge of his bed. Ghost, in all his glory, sitting at your feet - tears wetting his eyelashes and balaclava as he looks up at you. he’s still large even when he’s kneeling, but the way he’s behaving makes him look so small
the last deployment he had been on, one where you stayed back at base, had taken such a toll on him. all in one piece, but exhausted and sore. he was admittedly gross right now, sweaty and gear dirty from field work, but god— as soon as he had guided you to his room he all but fell to his knees for you. “Please, jus’ wanna taste you sweet’art.”, strained, voice ragged and gravelly from giving out constant streams of orders. pitiful, deep brown eyes gazing at you as he tugged his mask up
something about the way he looked made a spark flicker to life in your chest, heat pooling in your gut. Ghost is never like this, your Ghost would never be like this - let alone on base. your Simon Riley? that’s what makes this all too familiar, the way he’s looking up at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars. that’s saved for the comfort of your home, your shared flat back in Manchester. to see him like this? a needy, desperate man crawling towards you, resting his chin on your lap? who could blame you for wanting to see a little more?
it almost makes you feel bad when a choked sob leaves his lips - you had let him slip your slacks off, pooled around your boots. your boots, maybe that was why Ghost’s eyebrows were screwed together as he sloppily mouthed at your thighs. “You can— just need you to cum for me first, Ghost.”, maybe that request was too cruel for him, you knew him too well. the sight of him grinding his painfully hard bulge against your boot, spit and drool slicking your thighs as he cried against your lap. you know he can’t, not like this. Ghost— Simon’s too used to you helping him
he can’t cum, not without you - your hand, your mouth, anything you’re willing to give him, even if it’s just his mouth pleasing you. skin on skin contact, it’s nothing compared to grinding on your boot or using his hand. his sclera are tinted red at the edges, salty tears mixing with his spit as he sucks at your thighs, anything to keep his mouth occupied as his hips buck against your shoe. five minutes, five minutes too long when Simon looks up at you. scarred lips smeared with his own saliva, a broken little hiccup followed by a shoulder shaking sob leaves him, “Missed you— please, please, lemme make you feel good, lovie, m’sorry.”
he nearly breaks down when you shift to tug your underwear down, shaky hands coming up to rest on your knees. before you can even finish saying ‘okay’ Simon is parting your legs, slotting himself between your plush thighs. sloppy, a man starved of affection and your cunt for weeks. it would have tugged at your heartstrings if you were paying attention to him, head lolled back as he desperately sucks on your clit. if you had been paying attention you would have caught his sobs, your poor Simon, crying against your cunt. as good as you feel, Simon’s already gone, underwear soaked through as soon as he had his mouth on you
Something something kidnapper!character x top!dom!reader on ssri's...
Something about them begging insisting on having their pretty little captive pay some attention to their cock only to end up begging for them to stop riding his cock after it starts to hurt from cumming too much while reader's just trying to get off too for once in a while.
Hiiiiiiii can u please do one where they're being needy but you're talking w ur friends, and they start to give hints and kissing u, so u guys have to leave, please and thank you 🫰🫰
Hi sweets!! I can totally do this! Itll most likely be a subby/needy Simon💕💕
