ftm!simon getting frustrated because m!reader only fucks his ass as a punishment for simon distracting him during a meeting 🙏🙏
also, his hand is pushed away every time simon tries to rub his clit or finger himself because he can't take being neglected for so long
“ 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 ”
◜ᐢ..ᐢ◝ ᶻz ➜ he’s a huge distraction that needs to be taught a lesson.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𖤐 pairing ☆ ftm!simon “ghost” riley x dom!m!reader ˖ ࣪ ˖ cw ıllı mean!reader. flashback. brat taming. anal sex. orgasm delay. ⪩⭔⪨
“Fuck— just, baby, please!”
Simon grasped the sheets tightly, uncontrollable groans seeping from his throat like a faucet. The smirk he wore wasn’t present, far from it. His pussy fluttered around nothing as your cock bullies into his other hole. It was his fault.
“Any questions?”
It was around 2200 hours, if you remember correctly. An unusual hour for a meeting. Your eyelids were heavy and your muscles screamed. Back aching from exhaustion. You barely had a wink of sleep, ripped from your grasp when Simon knocked on your door to rise you for the current debrief. Surely, Price could have asked for this the next day, but he insisted to have it now. “No, sir.” Your reply rasped out of your throat, hand coming around your neck to rub away the tension.
That brain of yours was silent, ears muffling out the words that were being spoken. Somehow, Gaz and Soap still had energy. They teased you a little bit for your lack of focus, but they were cut short by your captain. Your eyes were quickly drooping, so quick to fall asleep, any moment now.
Not until you felt a hand on your thigh.
You tense, glancing only to see that it belonged to Simon.
He wasn’t looking at you. Like it wasn’t intentional. You knew that it wasn’t the case, he knew what he was doing. It’s probably just his way to make you pay attention, right?
No. It was far from that.
His intentions were made clear when it slowly, oh so slowly, crept up. Fingers on the inner side, close to your crotch. “Ghost,” You hiss, sending him a glare. He was beside you, skull-patterned glove hidden beneath the table. The grip he had on your thigh tightened, squeezing the flesh.
The quietest, similar to a whisper, of a hum resonated from his chest. It was an acknowledgement. You knew he wouldn’t listen.
Now here he was, forced to just take it. This was a different form of pleasure. Not enough. “More, need more,” you scoff, dragging your hips back. “More?” mockingly, you slammed back in, “You need more, don’t you? So fuckin’ greedy.” he yelps, tears flooding his eyes but he blinks them back. Still somewhat stubborn. “I’m sorry.” he whispers, so softly, like he didn’t mean it. In spite of his apology, his hand snakes down to rub at his clit.
Harshly, the back of your hand meets his palm. Pushing it away. “What was that?” you thrust, uncaringly. Reveling in the surprised gasp he gifts you. “I’m sor—” he cuts himself off with a yelp when you harshly thrust into him again, “I’m sorry!”
“Uh, uh.” you take both of his wrists and pin them above his head, “You’re sorry? For what?” he whimpers, the brattiness in him melting into desperation. “I’m sorry...nggh! f-for distracting you. Please, baby. I can’t.” Good answer, but you can’t simply give in. Yet. “You can,” a kiss was pressed to his cheek. “Just a little more, yeah?”
He shouldn’t be as wet as he is from that.
A nod was all you received, and all that you needed. With every movement forward, his clit caught onto the fabric below. If he angled himself just right, he’d be able to—
Your hand wrapped around his thigh, moving him in order for him to lay on his side. His leg was in the air, cock still pounding into his hole. In this position, he couldn’t experience the pleasure he yearned for. He didn’t need you there. A frustrated whimper left him, frowning when he attempted to rock into nothing. You were close, but he wasn’t. “Love,” he called, a moan following. “Shit, ‘m close.” you warn, that wasn’t the response he was looking for. It only caused him to try to escape your hold on his wrists, yet to no avail. He wanted you in his greedy cunt, not there. It wasn’t fair, he only wished for your attention.
Simon garbled in between a loud gasp and a choked moan when he felt your fingers plunge into him without any resistance, given to he was soaking. “That what you wanted?” your hips was flush against his, halting as your cock leaks of cum into his gaping hole.
“Y-yeah— oh, yes, fuck!” He clamped around you — both on your cock and fingers. You pull out along with your digits, leaving him oozing with cum and on the brink of a climax. He let out a cry, head moving towards you to ask why, he was right there.
“Keep that in, ‘kay? I have somethin’ to finish.”
Deity, he hates how you’re so effortlessly infuriating.
𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
2K notes
·
View notes
merrier the more
pairing - john price x f!reader x john mactavish
wc - 3.2k
warnings - 18+/nsfw, double vaginal penetration, wife sharing, unprotected sex
notes - after a million years i've finally gotten this out of my brain and written out! underrated threesome imo, lets goooo!! proofread but definitely not enough ♥
Thursdays were date nights, almost every week without fail, unless John was on a mission. Even when paperwork keeps him tied to his desk into the dark of the night, you join him in his office with takeout and a good book, content to enjoy his company in silence.
It was one of the keys to your marriage being as successful as it is, and both you and John agreed—quality time was a must.
This Thursday was a break in routine—John's energy has been decidedly different since you stepped foot in his office. He's always a little on edge when you see him at work, his jaw and shoulders tight, but tonight there's a hint of determination in his eyes.
Captain Price is present, rather than your husband, John.
The second difference comes in the form of a knock on the door, usually, the two of you go undisturbed as your standing date is known among the 141, and none of the men dare interrupt and draw their captain's ire. On the rare occasion that a knock would come, words would be exchanged quickly before being dismissed.
Tonight, John invites the guest inside.
"Sit, Soap." John commands, his voice low and dripping with authority in a way that draws your attention.
The younger man complies, seemingly not on edge—his usual cocky confidence is still in full swing, in defiance of your expectations of the situation. Whatever Johnny is here for, he's not to be reprimanded or to report something grim.
Both men's eyes are firmly fixed on you, gazes roaming over the way you lounge in your pretty dress on John's shitty office couch, your legs exposed to both of them.
"C'mere love," John speaks, rolling back his office chair and patting his thigh temptingly. "Need your help with something."
You rise uncertainty, leaving your book behind as you make your way over to your husband, your eyes darting between him and his subordinate. Neither man says a word, just continuing to watch you as you move closer to them.
Your mind starts to race, thinking of just what John could possibly need your help with. Occasionally, he asks you to read one of his men's imperceptible handwriting or gets into a debate with you about whether his own reports make grammatical sense.
Something tells you neither is the case this time.
When you make your way around the desk, you fall into John's lap obediently, facing away from him and watching Johnny watch you.
The look in his eyes is not something you're blind to, not now, not ever. John MacTavish has always wanted you. John Price has never let you forget it—he's teased you multiple times about his soldier's crush, and made you admit while being fucked mindless to being attracted to the younger man too.
Your husband got off on knowing his power, knowing that you belong to him regardless of Johnny or any other man's wishes, and knowing that while your eyes can still appreciate other men, they'll never be enough compared to Price himself.
You sit patiently and wait, deferring to John and his air of authority as you wait for him to speak whenever he is good and ready. The silence is thick, John's paw trailing across your thigh, up to your waist where he holds you still, his grip insistent.
"Sergeant MacTavish here is about to become a Lieutenant." He begins again, graveled voice now right in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "If Soap is getting a promotion, I need to know he can get the job done."
John snaps his fingers at the Sergeant, beckoning him around the desk as John spins you both to face where Johnny is now standing. His hands move back down your body to your thighs, parting your legs slightly by opening his own so that you sit spread.
You know exactly where this is headed. Johnny's azure eyes burn into you as they spectate every single one of John's slow, luxurious movements—touches that slowly begin to undo you. The air in the room thickens, and your skin burns under John's fingers.
Johnny's eyes flicker away, and you can tell the captain is holding his gaze.
"Need to know I can depend on him, and that he can do what he needs." He purrs, his tone filled with intent. "That he'll take what he wants, yeah?"
John pulls up the hem of your dress, exposing your now-soaked panties to his sergeant and delighting in the way you both shiver in response—you from being exposed, Johnny from finally getting to lay eyes on intimate parts he'd only dreamed of.
You stay obediently frozen as John teases you further—the whiskers of his beard tickling at your neck as he smirks, his fingers stroking so softly up your inner thighs.
When you look back and catch Johnny looking you right in the eye, you swear you can feel yourself gush—he looks like he wants to devour you whole.
"He's always wanted you, love. Isn't that right, sergeant?"
"Yes, sir." Johnny agrees so eagerly, but the look he sends your way is anything but submissive. His grin is almost predatory, his anticipation and arousal clear after years of lusting after you from afar.
Johnny finally comes closer, his hands settling on the arms of John's chair as his face stops inches away from your face—hot breath sweeping over your features. One hand moves to clutch at your jaw, demanding your attention as if it wasn't already entirely focused on him. "Tonight, you're mine."
He growls the words before diving in for a searing kiss, his actions rough and hungry, bordering on violently enthusiastic. His stubble is so different from John's softer brush, nipping at your sensitive skin.
"Only for tonight, MacTavish." Your husband growls from behind you, pulling your hips back into his hard cock as a reminder. He might be sharing you, but it's just this once. You'll always be his.
As Johnny kisses you fervently, his hands begin to wander too, groping at your tits as John continues to hold you steady as he works his erection into your ass. While the sergeant occupies your mouth, John sucks kisses into your neck, humming at the feel of you falling apart under both men's touches.
You gather just enough strength to surface for breath—panting and shaken under their joint attention. Neither of them shows signs of stopping. While your husband was offering you to another man, he wasn't going to sit back and watch either.
"Both of you?" You gasp, words unsteady and breathless. Handling John under normal circumstances was hard enough, throwing Johnny into the mix might just break you.
You shiver with need as the men share a laugh, and John's hand slips up to embrace the column of your neck. "Someone has to show him how to do it, love."
The two men dive back into making you fall apart, a flurry of lips and hands tearing you apart at the seams and driving you mindless with each touch.
"Fuuuck." Johnny practically whines, his hands falling to grope at your tits and pull them free out of the top of your dress.
His hands are calloused and warm in a familiar way, but his movements are quick and rough and make you squirm under his touch. The two sets of hands on you are almost too much already, as well as John's erection rubbing against your core.
A quick flicker of your gaze to the sergeant's jeans shows he's similarly affected, and the sight of his hard cock straining against the denim has you wanting.
It's hard to think straight with every sensation you feel, every thought consumed by the two men ravaging you—yet your mind flickers back to the conversation you and John had months ago now, the one where he mentioned sharing you.
You turn your head to the side, snuggling into your husband's cheek as you whisper to him. "I always thought it'd be—"
He interrupts you with a greedy kiss, before freeing you to continue speaking. "—Simon, if you ever actually went through with this..."
You sigh through your words, Johnny almost biting at you when he hears the other man's name fall from your lips.
The truth is, you had thought it'd be Simon that John invited into the bedroom first, as his trusted right hand and someone he knew would be discreet. Clearly, though, your husband had been paying more attention to your soft spot for the sergeant than you thought.
How long had he been concocting this plan? Waiting for the opportunity to have you at Johnny's mercy too.
Said man's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and back to the smirk on his face and the sparkle in his eyes. "Don't tell me yer disappointed, bonnie."
You can tell from the way his voice drips with amusement that he knows you're anything but. The easy confidence has always been part of his charm, but as he toys with your breasts and stares down at you expectantly, knowing exactly what he's doing to you—that confidence feels like lightning down your spine.
"Far from it, Johnny." You whisper, finally taking an action of your own and pulling the man in for another kiss. It's sloppy and messy, more teeth and tongue than lips, but Johnny's mouth tastes so good, and his need is evident in every single brush of him against you.
His hands climb to cup your jaw, holding you exactly as he wants you as his tongue explores your mouth and dances with yours—it's dirty the way he kisses, the way he groans into your mouth as you thread your fingers into his mohawk, the way he swallows your own moans as John bucks up from below you.
Johnny pulls away, his chest heaving as he presses his forehead against yours and holds you in a tender moment. "Ye must have a thing for blue eyes, aye?" He smirks once more, and you wish you could protest, but the sparkling blues had been what captured your attention first about both men.
One set belonging to the man that you married, one set belonging to the man you'll now get to fuck.
The blue eyes before you flicker down, breaking the connection as his hands wander lower—down past your breasts, brushing past your husband's on their way to your thighs. He grasps greedily at your softness, kneading his touch into your skin as he parts your thighs, exposing your soaked panties to his burning gaze.
"'m gonna touch that little kitty of yours now." He purrs, his curled finger brushing across your sensitive inner thighs in a way that makes your legs squirm—even more so when he traces up the hem of your panties.
"Didn't say you could, MacTavish." Your husband all but growls, his usual authority bursting through him.
Johnny ignores his captain entirely, his fingers pushing your panties aside to plunge deep into your weeping cunt—he curls them against your walls, a wolfish smirk directed at you, watching you flail as he continues to disregard John's words in favour of driving you crazy.
"Don't remember asking, captain." He snarls in response, taking control.
The sound of your cunt getting ravished by Johnny's fingers fills the room, drawing sweet whines out of you. One hand works to find the best angle to scrape against your spongy walls, his other coming to replace John's as he holds your neck and stares you down.
You feel a shift, a moment where Johnny's attitude changes from cocky confidence to earned authority, him taking encouragement from the way you fall apart under his touch and writhe in the lap of your husband who isn't currently the cause of your pleasure. It has Johnny soaring, and you can tell he's falling into the new headspace with ease.
"He's a quick study, John." You whisper.
"Clothes off, yeah, lass?" Johnny tugs you to your feet, holding you steady in his arms for a moment before he eagerly strips you off your clothes.
Your dress comes off first, revealing your tits hanging out of the cups of your bra, and the way your panties settle on your hips, digging into your skin. Johnny's hands move to roam over each piece of your exposed body, kneading and admiring, his eyes ablaze like the hottest part of a flame.
Then he works to rip off your underwear, leaving you bare before both men. "Fuckin' hell don't know how you tear yerself away from her."
"Feels impossible some days." John purrs as he stands from his chair, paws falling to your waist once more.
Both men grope at you—Soap pulling you in for another kiss, John nibbling at your neck. Your legs almost give out from beneath you, and you know you'd be so unsteady were it not for being pinned between the two men's bodies.
It's overwhelming. John on his own is enough to bring you to your knees, but him and Johnny, with his blessing? Each touch, each kiss has you whining—high-pitched and almost brainless as your mind fizzles with pleasure.
Johnny holds you close, pressing his solid body against yours—rough fabric and a hard cock against soft skin. He watches your expression as his fingers dip back into your soaked folds, as your husband's fingers roam over your ass and into your hole. The two men work in tandem to reduce you to a quivering mess, vicious fingers making you drip down their hands and your own thighs.
Johnny flicks your clit absentmindedly as his other hand moves to work on freeing himself from his jeans, pushing his boxers aside to reveal a long, slender, leaking cock.
"Wow, bonnie girl. Yer that excited for me? Or dae ye just really like yer husband sharing ye?" He purrs as he strokes his length languidly, teasing you with the sight of his pre-cum leaking down the head, as well as the way he squeezes his member.
You laugh breathlessly, unable to summon a real response until the men's fingers still inside you. "We'll see... how you fuck first, sergeant. Don't let me down."
Both men share a chuckle, but Johnny is the first to act, with strong hands wrapping around your thighs and hoisting you into the air.
Johnny gives you a devilish smirk as he hovers you inches away from his cock. "I never back down from a challenge, lass."
He eases into you slowly, lowering you down and stretching you on his length, each delicious inch pushing its way inside in an almost torturous way. He’s not as thick as your husband, but he might just be longer, as he finally seats himself inside and the tip of his cock bullies your cervix.
"Fuck, fuck." The sigh that releases from you is beyond shaky, betraying the deep effect Johnny’s cock has on you. "So deep."
"He feel good, love?" John asks, stepping up behind you, his voice close to your ear and his hands guiding you up and down the other man’s cock.
"Y-yeah."
He clicks his tongue in approval, speaking again with honeyed words that make you keen. "Good girl, keep taking him for me."
John mostly watches, his hands remaining on you, yet passive, as Johnny starts to move. The younger man thrusts with fervour, bouncing you onto his dick over and over and over again, not satisfied until he has you crying out for more and babbling.
Johnny certainly knows how to move his hips, knows how to fuck—he eases off the second you show any discomfort, and is quick to learn the exact pace and motion that makes you moan the loudest. If you could think straight, you’d wonder if John had already given him strict instructions on exactly how to fuck you. Of course, he’d have planned this to a T.
Your nails scrape up Johnny’s muscled back, clinging to him desperately as he continues to shove his cock into your wet hole, as John’s hand snakes around your waist to toy with your clit. Both men are clearly intent on ruining you. Your insides twist, your head falling back into your husband's chest as you just feel.
Johnny’s hips abruptly stop, buried deep inside you in a way that blanks out all your thoughts. "Need your help, captain." He grumbles over your shoulder.
"What with?"
"Think she needs her husband's cock inside her too. Stuff tha' pretty cunt completely full, yeah, bonnie?" Johnny raises a brow at his captain, waiting for the man to make a move.
Each second drags as your husband considers the situation and you're left needy and waiting, Johnny's hips entirely still—John's hands on you inactive too.
The idea of being stretched by both of them at the same time sends you wild, two gorgeous cocks stuffing your hole full.
"Please, John." You start to babble, unable to control your own pleas. "Need you both, need you both, need—"
John's cock slides between your ass, nudging forward until he knocks against where Johnny is buried inside you. The sensation on its own has both you and Johnny bucking.
"That kind of thinking'll take you far, sergeant," John whispers before his fingers crawl down your skin to where you and Johnny are connected, and he starts to guide the head of his cock into your hole. "Shhh, nice and slow, gotta stretch you out for both of us, love."
“Gonna be a tight squeeze, bonnie.” Johnny mutters, his voice showing signs of further strain as his captain’s cock rubs against him.
The stretch is painful, John’s girthy cock bullying its way inside and forcing you to accommodate him alongside the sergeant—you know you won’t be sitting right anytime soon, and you couldn’t be happier.
Your hole burns with each inch your husband slides in, pleasure only beginning to come when his head brushes against your g-spot—after that, he slips right in, your cunt reshaping itself in acceptance and swallowing his cock.
"Fuck.” You pant, barely able to catch your breath, and no one has even moved yet. You can’t think straight, can’t breathe right, can’t even really contemplate the way your body is being overwhelmed by the two men. All you can do is whine and moan and cry out. "It's too much!"
John holds your hips steady as he presses kisses to your shoulder, and Johnny runs a hand through your hair—both men cooing reassurances at you.
"Ye can take it, fer me and the captain. I know ya can."
“You can do the work, sergeant, make her feel good, yeah?”
Johnny nods once before springing into action, his cock gliding out of your pussy before forcing its way back in, squelching against John’s length as it goes and drawing groans from both men.
It doesn’t take long Johnny's pace to escalate, as he shoves in repeatedly and thrusts both his own and John’s cock deeper inside you. You feel your brain slip into a haze of pleasure, all thoughts becoming incoherent as moan after moan makes its way from your throat.
"There we go, love. Stuffed full of two cocks, how'd you like it?" Your husband asks before turning your head to face him, and then devouring your lips in a passionate, loving kiss.
"Love it, love it so much." You whisper against him. "Fuck me, John, Johnny, please."
The two men thrust together momentarily, forcing you to the limit of what you can take from both of them—smirks dance across their faces, both beyond pleased to have you pinned between them.
"Cannae wait until we're both filling ye with our cum." Johnny purrs as he buries himself deep.
"You'd love that, wouldn't you, gorgeous girl?"
1K notes
·
View notes