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vi-sinner · 6 months

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touch-a touch-a touch me

Pairing; Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem Reader

Summary; Ghost looks pretty good handcuffed to the bed like this. Think you can make him beg?

Warnings; 18+ minors dni or I’ll put you in las almas!!! handcuffs used consensually (on him), handjobs, edging i guess?, sort of dom but eventually a lil subby ghost, cunilingus, idk man

(a/n) since my multichapter ghost fic, Would You Know Me, is taking so fucking long, I figured I might give you guys something else in the meantime!! this is a fic that i started months and months ago, but abandoned and then suddenly got inspo for and rewrote and then finished!!! also ya this is kinda rushed but shhh subby ghost

Word Count; 2.6k

Simon wonders, not for the first time, what he’s done to make you look at him with such desire in your eyes.

He shifts a little on the bed, hips shuffling a couple of inches to the side for no reason as he watches you stand before him. It’s not uncomfortable, he supposes. By far the most pleasurable use he’s found for a pair of handcuffs, having his wrists secured to each side of the headboard, rest of his body laid out for you to peruse.

Simon’s half hard, cock laying up against his belly and twitching every now and then when you walk around the room and he can see your breasts move, the curve of your ass as you lean to reach something. He misses five minutes ago when he would have smacked it, big paws leaving a red mark and making the flesh jiggle.

It’s been a few minutes since the handcuffs clinked around his wrists and his face was only inches away from your chest. He’d assumed your touch would soon follow, likely working your way down his chest, you’d probably think to tease him and skip his cock, down to pay attention to his thighs and hips.

He knows you like touching him, remembers every instance that you two have been intimate and you’ve pulled him down to press chest to chest, clutched his arms, wrapped your legs around him and just wanted him closer. All of this had made Simon relatively confident that whatever teasing or torture you had in mind, he’d still feel your touch regardless. After all, he won’t be broken very easily if he’s got your hands on him will he?

But no, you’d secure the cuffs and then just…wandered off. His smirk had faded after a minute or so when you hadn’t come back, but swiftly reappeared when you strolled in, still naked. It’s the little things that make him happy, yknow.

So now he lies on the bed, watching and shifting restlessly as you fold clothes to go in drawers, rearrange your products and hold up lingerie to yourself in the mirror, just where he can see it and envision the way it would cling to your figure. He realises, unsettlingly, that he’s become so used to your easy touch and the way your hands always find him that he doesn’t know how much he needs it as well. Anytime he goes very long without your touch, it’s only because you’re not around. If you’re near, you’re both touching.

And now? He’s not quite sure what to do with himself.

With nothing else to do, he lightly tugs his wrists and listens to the metal clink, mentally calculating how much force he’d need to exert to break the chain. The sound makes your head flick round and he stills, eyes darting to yours in the hope it’s inspired some movement or touch from you. He watches you glance over the handcuffs quickly, checking they’re okay, before turning back to the mirror and picking up a new babydoll set.

Simon huffs, impatient.

Immediately, he perks up again when the sound makes you pause your movements.

Fucking finally-

He widens his legs a little, displaying himself subconsciously in the hope it might tempt you into action. He hasn’t broken yet, he won’t beg you of course, but really? You still haven’t touched him yet? It’s kind of-

Oh-

Simons hips jerk as your hand fists around his cock, tugging gently once before letting go again. His shaft drops thickly on his stomach before flexing up toward your touch again, as he lets out a breath and stares at you. Clearing his throat, he curls his toes once and unfurls them, relaxing.

He shifts his hips again, pretending like he’s not trying to rub the head of his cock against his abdomen because that’s it? y’think that’s gonna break me love? have to do a little more to get me to beg you know that don’t you-

But you know that, so all he receives is a quick kiss on the forehead and a murmured m’i know, just wanted you to behave is all-

Simon tugs his wrists again just to protest a little, telling you you’re a cheeky fuckin’ minx aren’t you before settling back down on the pillows. He’s hopeful you might touch him again, that you’ll wrap your hand around him and give in now, that maybe kissing his forehead and feeling the weight of his cock might have inspired something. He hopes, but by now he knows you won’t, and he’s right.

You wander off again and he’s left pressing his lips together thinly, dropping his head back on the pillow and debating if he’s even getting laid tonight. He wouldn’t actually be too surprised if you thought it would be funny to just leave him there. Maybe you’ll go and watch a movie you’ve been wanting to for a while but he’s been vetoing every time you sit down together. Hell, maybe you’ll just go off to nap on the couch without him clattering pots and pans in the kitchen or watching TV.

He sighs again, turning his head to the side to watch you fiddle with something on the chest of drawers. Pay attention to me-

When he watches you turn and lean back against it, he’s pleasantly surprised to be proved wrong, grinning at the lube in your hands. Simon waits until you’ve made your way over and settled a knee either side of his thighs to raise an eyebrow at you, hoping you’ll be similarly affected enough that you won’t get up and walk away. Except you hold one of your fingers up when he opens his mouth, squirting some lube onto your palm and gripping his shaft without any more preamble.

He chokes on a gasp, not expecting the slick pump pump pump of your hand so quickly, not expecting himself to buck up so roughly into you and drop his head back again. There’s a sort of schlick sound when you move your hand and he can almost imagine your cunt, the way it grips him and sucks him in and he bucks up again, trying to fuck your hand and set the pace. His head pulls back up to watch you, and he takes in the almost bored look on your face, like this is a chore, like you couldn’t fucking care less whether it feels good for him or not and fuck, it shoves him forcefully just that much closer to the edge.

The friction is delicious, wet and sticky and sloppy and exactly what he wants, and he huffs out a laugh in between grunts, rutting his cock up into your grip as he starts muttering at you, grinning because fuckin’ knew you couldn’t hold out could you? just desperate for it, can’t go fifteen minutes looking at me naked without-fuck-without getting your hands on me yeah? y’actin’ like you don’t care but I fuckin know, I know don’t I sweetheart, you need this goddamn cock-probably thinkin’ about it inside y’ aren’t you, pretty pussy probably clenchin’ round nothin and-shit, right there-and tryin’ so hard not to beg me t’fuck you-fuck sweetheart that’s-that’s it right there-gettin’ fucking close-keep strokin’ it just like-ah-grip it a little bit tighter yeah? just-fuck-no-no just-FUCK-

Simon damn near bellows when you take your hand away, hips chasing you and almost toppling you sideways onto the bed. He almost snarls at you, grunting incoherently as his orgasm escapes him, receding and leaving him sweaty and panting. His chest heaves as he stares at you, glaring at the self satisfied smile working its way onto your lips.

Beg me and I put my hand back, sweetheart-

He grunts when you call him that, at the clear condescension in your tone. Looking away, he swallows and licks his lips, debating the merits of apologising for trying to take charge or doubling down and getting you to break.

Unfortunately, he knows which will get him what he wants-and Simon is nothing if not determined.

Fine. Fine-I shouldn’t have tried t’take charge and-and flip this-now-now will you just fuckin’ put your hand back on me?

It takes him by surprise again, the sudden intense pressure of your touch. Mouth dropping open, his head cranes forward to watch both of your hands this time, squeezing gently and stroking his cock just the way he likes it. The tight pleasure working through him builds quickly after being denied, and he risks thrusting shallowly up into your hands. He groans lowly when it somehow sounds wetter, when his hips pumping gives this wet squelch and he watches lube ooze from between your knuckles, dripping onto his hips.

Subconsciously he pulls at the cuffs again and strains toward you, mind a little foggy but just wanting more. More of you and your touch and any sounds you make and-

Thighs spreading and hips losing their rhythm, he leans back into the pillows as he feels it, pleasure rushing through him and his balls drawing up, full and heavy and desperate to be emptied.

And-

Your hands disappear again, leaving him tugging roughly at the cuffs and cursing at you, hips trying to rut the tip of his cock against his abdomen in seek of his release.

This time, the weight on the bed lessens and he belatedly realises you’re getting up as well, not just leaving his cock but walking away and he can’t even feel you perching on his thighs, can’t even sense your warmth and jesus christ he’s already had enough of whatever the fuck this is, no longer caring about whatever he did twenty minutes ago, finally relenting to jesus okay okay I’ll-fuckin’ fine sweetheart-please-please just-I’ll beg I’ll beg m’beggin you just touch me again-please please please put your hands on me or grind on me or sit on my fuckin’ face if you want just-fuckin’ please touch me again please make me cum-

Maybe later tonight he’ll regret the pathetic tone in his voice but right now, he only thinks of the warm wet heat of your cunt, the slick pull of your hands and the pretty way you gasp when warm ropes of his cum paint your walls.

It seems like you deem this ramble worthy enough, his begging pitiful enough and he’s blessed with you swinging a leg over his torso to shuffle up the bed. Simon’s licking his lips and craning his head up before you’re even ready, trying to shove himself forward and force his face into your cunt to get a taste and try to satisfy his hunger. There’s a hand in his hair pulling him back roughly for his efforts and he moans at it, eyes fluttering closed before they snap open again and he watches you carefully.

An experimental tug, and his lip gets sucked into his mouth as a sound dies in his throat.

It seems like he doesn’t even realise what he’s doing when he pushes his head further into your hand, eyes blinking slowly when you pull again. Somewhere in his mind he thinks you could probably do this all night, and then he realises he could do that too, still but for you tugging his head this way and that, pulling his hair and directing him wherever you want his face.

Almost like something shifts a little bit in him, he relaxes fully into the bed, pliable under you. Ready and waiting for you to do what you want. For you to use him, to make yourself cum and not give a second’s thought to his body.

Shuffling another few inches up to hover over his face, it only takes a little tug and a measured go on then- before his head lurches up and his nose is bumping your clit, rubbing it slightly as he laves his tongue over your slit. His eyes flick up to yours when you jolt in pleasure, almost as if he’s checking he’s done a good thing, like he wants to be sure he’s doing well. In response, he gets you grinding down onto his face and he groans, letting his eyes fall shut as his tongue licks wetly over your hole.

Sitting down a little harder, your body relaxes onto his face and he moans with enthusiasm, shifting until he can place sloppy open mouthed kisses over your entrance, sucking and slurping messily as your wetness drips down his chin. Simon looks up again, wanting to watch your face to check it feels good enough for you-and he’s greeted by another almost bored stare.

Eyes boring down into his, lips pressed together-the only way he can tell he’s having an affect on you is by the sweat on your neck and the heavy rise and all of your chest. Christ, it shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but the idea that you aren’t even affected by this? That he’s going to have to work harder if he wants your praise?

Wait-praise-

He’s never wanted to be praised before, never wanted to be told how well he’s doing or how good he’s being, but right now all he wants is to make you cum and for you to look down and tell him he did well, for you to say he did a good job and made you feel so good.

Spurred on by his sudden need for praise, Simon straightens his tongue and thrusts it into your hole, flicking the tip of it and flushing with pride when you gasp quietly. His hands pull on the handcuffs, wanting nothing more than to grip your hips or your ass, pull you down onto his face and make you sit down properly, smother him and crush his face between your thighs as long as you cum.

A few minutes later he feels you shifting and he looks up desperately to see your head tilting down, thumb brushing over his hairline and fingers carding through the soft strands, and then, softly, you just go oh, my good boy-

And he’s gone, his hips rut into the air and his vision blurs with tears, wanting nothing more than that, nothing more than being m’yes m’-m’your good boy-

The garbled words are muffled against your cunt, stuttered with slurps and licks and a gulping swallow halfway through because he doesn’t want to waste everything dripping down his throat. It’s only a few more minutes before you slowly lift yourself off, leaving him craning his head up and panting as he tries to lick at you again. Simon registers you shuffling down a little to perch on his chest instead and pulls harder at the handcuffs, furrowing his brow and licking his lips.

He’s not used to being a good boy though, not used to following your lead or not getting what he wants in the bedroom and the ‘good’ part quickly fades, leaving him an annoyed bratty mess, chin slick with you as he huffs and lifts his body to try and propel you onto his face again, staring up at you as he complains that no-no-the fuck are you-get back up here and just-will you just fuckin’-cmon-goddamn it why won’t you-FUCK-

A sharp tug to his hair ensures that his head is pulled back and held against the pillow, throat bobbing as he swallows at the movement and his eyes float shut before snapping open again.

With a warning to behave, and you might just get what you want yet, if you can show me you’re sorry, Simon is eagerly nodding, settling himself back against the bedding and muttering out apologies, dark eyes trained on yours as he waits for your next move.

part 2 where y'all actually fuck or no?

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