Show Me (Ghost x Reader)
knight!simon riley x princess!reader
description: princesses are meant to be poised, delicate and untouched by things unbecoming. At least, that's what everyone expects of you. hidden away in your room, curiosity gets the better of you - one that takes a dangerous turn when sir simon riley, your father's most loyal knight, catches you in such an intimate moment. he's far too tangled in temptation - when you ask him to teach you, how could he say no...
word count: 4.2k
tags/warnings: 18+, SMUT with no penetration*, lots of touching (female masturbation), implied age gap, power imbalance. MASK STAYS ON.
"Soap!" Simon's voice echoes down the dimly lit hallway. The sound of metal clanging together as Johnny meets him by the end of the narrow path. Stairs leading towards the main part of the castle, concious that his back is to the wall, peripheral to every entrance - every possible way in.
"High alert tonight whilst the king is travelling. He'll arrive in a few hours but I'm concerned that whilst the princess is here alone we must be careful." Soap says and nods towards Ghost who says nothing behind the mask. The silver in his armour reflects the warmth from the candle's flames beside him, a dark contrast to Ghost's own.
"King's put me in charge of guarding the princess, you guard the main wall." Ghost states to him, who nods and, without question, agrees alongside.
"Happy to swap over once the King arrives Si." Simon nods, not overly pleased with the notion but happy to return to his usual post by the King instead of his daughter. Soap would never understand Simon's loyalty, the way his role had seeped into every crevice of his purpose. He'd fought hard, worked his way up the ranks and made a name for himself, something he would never sacrifice. His job was his life which meant even the princess's was too.
Flashes of (your hair colour and type) wisp into his mind at the thought of you, not getting much of an opportunity to truly speak to you as much as Soap had - you weren't his usual assignment but this time around you were.
Sweet scents of roses would waft his nose every time you'd entered a room or turned a corner, he'd resisted the urge to deeply inhale many times. Being surrounded by men day and night seemed to dull the senses after some time. Deep down he was looking forward to being able to let the scent invade his senses numb without the possibility of anyone watching.
Soap gives him a nod of acknowledgement before heading back down the hallway. Ghost scans his peripheral further before walking down to situate himself in front of your door which was currently manned by another guard several places below his rank. The guards silver armour coming into view.
Once Ghost rounds the corner into eye view, his eyes divert from the masked man to the floor in a second, straightening his posture in fear of being told off for slacking.
"Go." Ghost firmly presses. The guard wastes no time arguing; no one would dare question him. Soap, excluded, of course.
Watching as the guard hurries off without thought, Ghost positions himself with his back to the lightly stained wooden door. The scent of male sweat faded as the guard's steps disappeared; the faintest of something sweet wafted through. He deeply inhales, it was very faint, something you'd have to concentrate to truly appreciate it. You.
He says nothing once more, hoping the night watch was as easy as Soap always made it out to be. No one rarely entered in and out during the night; he assumed he'd spend only a few short hours before returning to the King's side once more.
Your father had been visiting a town not too far from the castle for a night and was returning not too long after leaving. With no one truly left to guard the city, your father had left Simon in charge of his army. With Gaz and John off beside your father, that left Simon and Soap by your side.
The castle settled around him. Servants disappeared into their quarters. Torches burned lower. Conversations faded until the only sounds remaining were the occasional crackle of firelight and the distant footsteps of patrols changing posts.
Behind the door, he could hear faint movement, nothing alarming.
A chair scraping across stone and rustle of fabric alongside the soft thud of something being set down. His shoulders relaxed by a fraction, the princess was still awake. Not unusual, you had always been restless. At least, that's what the servants claimed. Soap seemed to know more. The younger man always managed to find himself tangled in conversations with people throughout the castle.
Kitchen maids, stable hands and apparently princesses too.
"You should speak to her sometime." Soap's words from weeks ago surfaced unexpectedly. Simon had grunted and ignored him. Yet now, standing alone outside your chambers with nothing but his own thoughts for company, Simon found himself wondering. What were you doing in there?
Reading? Writing? Avoiding sleep?
His gaze travelled the length of the corridor once more. Then he heard it. A muffled cry, the sound had come from inside your chambers.
There he heard it again, pained cries - ever so faint in the night. He craned his neck, listening out once more. A hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to strike. Again. Coming right from the princess's room. He wastes no time, sword sheathed and the force of any experienced fighter he kicks the door open revealing the room in its entirety.
"Princess-." He’s across the room before the words die, only to freeze. His voice drops. Laid bare on your poster bed, one hand splayed on your stomach, the other parted within your folds. It took Ghost a second too long before his eyes darted "Shit! My Lady - God, so sorry." Face diverted to the wall now, sheer embarrassment and shock deep within him.
Your father’s most feared knight, a man who had faced war without blinking now looks completely, utterly unprepared. His jaw tightens beneath the scarred edge of his mask. “…Bloody hell,” he mutters quietly.
Heat rushes to your face as you scramble to collect yourself and hide what little is left of your body unseen. The one time you thought you'd get a night without any interruptions, here you were now exposing yourself to your father's own Knight. The feared masked Simon Riley, the Ghost.
“I thought someone was hurting you,” he says after a minute, voice rougher now, lower. The concern in his expression somehow makes the embarrassment worse, your face turning slightly pink at the intrusion.
You turn away immediately, fumbling for the blanket at the edge of the bed. “You weren’t meant to come in,” you mumble, mortified.
“Aye, gathered that.” He grumbles. Turning towards the door to leave, not sure what his next steps are. His voice is dry, and he feels himself go red, warmth rising in his chest and neck. Flashes of his position, of what will become of him if he doesn't right this. All those years of hard work thrown into waste, all for his recklessness. Simon exhales slowly through his nose and finally looks toward the door, like he’s reminding himself where the exit is. "I'm so sorry, M'Lady." He says, still slightly turned away, in an effort to give you some privacy.
“You really thought I was hurt?” You don't acnkowledge his apology. Simply ignoring the gravity of whats occured with a light tone in your voice. Had you really been that loud?
His gaze flicks back to you instantly. “You cried out,” he says simply. “Wasn’t about to ignore it.” He avoids watching you cover yourself in your night shift. He sheathes his sword in the side of his armour. The leathers and plating feel all too tight now. Flashes of your body crossing his vision.
Of course Simon Riley would tear through a castle door for you. "I apolgise, your highness. That was incredibly improper of me to see you like that and I will do whatever it takes to right my wrong." His eyes are diverting, not sure where to look.
“You can stop looking at me like I’ve committed treason,” you mutter quietly, pulling the blanket higher despite the warmth in the room. You’ve seen Simon bloodied from battle. Unshaken when your own father snapped orders at him like he was something less than human. But now? Now he won’t quite look at you like he usually does. Like the sight of you unsettles him in ways battle never could.
"M' Sorry m'Lady."
"Will you tell my father?" You ask, the thought making you cringe. He shakes his head, like thats the most normal answer.
Simon shakes his head immediately. "No." The answer comes so quickly it almost makes you laugh.
"No?"
"No."
"You didn't even think about it."
"M'Lady, there is not a force in this kingdom strong enough to make me repeat what I've just witnessed to your father."
A startled laugh escapes you before you can stop it. He tilts his head, confused if he truly is hearing you laugh. "Good," you say. "Because I think he'd die on the spot." A sound suspiciously close to a chuckle escapes him. You smile, thankful at his response.
“What happens in this room stays in this room.” His voice lowers, steadier now. “You’ve got my word.”
"Our secret." You confirm, with a soft smile on your flushed face. Your hair slightly messed, the loose shift on your frame exposed a bare shoulder. Simon held the instinct to look about your body. He'd already done too much already so he didn't. You hesitate before quietly adding, “Then… I won’t tell my father you barged into my chambers.”
That gets a real reaction from him as his eyes lift to yours instantly.
“You wouldn’t.” You raise a brow.
“You did enter unannounced.”
“You sounded distressed." He defends.
“You still entered.” You slyly respond, a hint of playfullness on your tongue.
A long pause emits from Simon, not sure how to respond. Not many render him speechless; never has he been unsure what to say back. But then the faintest huff of laughter escapes him. He's never had the chance to properly speak with you, never needing to when his primary assignment was the King. But here he was, cracking a smile under his mask, impressed with your wittiness. Had Soap interacted with you like this before?
“Right,” he mutters. “Suppose we’re both keepin’ secrets now.” You nod and wrap your arms around yourself. He watches as you ponder over him for a moment; he's never felt so intrigued by someone before. Never truly wanted to get to know a person, for their entirety. Something about the way you spoke to him with such tease and simplicity made him feel like he wasn't just the knight with a mask or the one people feared as he walked into a room.
"Could I ask for a favour?" You ask, a small hint of mischief splayed on your lips. You sit up, resting on your knees and leaning forward towards him. Now he was really paying attention. Fuck, you were beautiful.
"Yes, m'Lady." He says without a sliver of doubt. Right now, he'd do just about anything. The look on your face caused a low stir in his groin - oh, how he was ruined. How could he ever look at you the same ever again? The vision of your bare skin, pointed nipples and fingers between your folds would replay every time he'd stare into those (your eye colour) eyes.
"Could you stay, watch me and tell me if I'm doing it right?" Your question sure sends his heart into a stop and makes him miss a beat or two. He wasn't entirely sure you knew what you were asking, or if he knew what you were implying. The sound of your voice was slightly hushed, bashful.
"M'Sorry?" You smile cheekily. Sitting back onto your arse you position your hair on your head, releasing a few strands to sit neater.
"You see, the women of court - even my own handmaid won't talk to me about this. People around me tend to steer clear of these types of conversations, but I know you're an honest man, Captain." The way you speak is such a casualty of the context. He looks behind him to the open door - were you really having this conversation so openly?
"M'Lady, I don't feel this type of conversation is appropriate for someone like me. I'm a man of your father's watch, I am not a husband or a man of importance." You shake your head.
"That doesn't matter to me, Simon." Use of his real name sends him to stand straighter. "You wouldn't deny a princess of the King of her order would you?" You're teasing now and he cant help the need to put you in your place, for talking to him like a spoilt child but he shakes that thought away.
"You know what you're asking of me, m'Lady?" He reassures.
"Yes."
"I have a duty, I have an honour to your family to protect you. That would be the opposite." You shake your head, ignoring his words.
"I've heard many of my servant women speak of your expertise, I believe they said you knew well on how to please." You say so calmly, he almost forgets that he's speaking with a noblewoman. He smiles to himself under the mask.
You've clearly spoken about him before, recalled the way the other women he'd slept with had writhed in pleasure underneath him. Did you know about everything he'd done? So foolish to think the women didn't talk. You were different though; you weren't just any woman.
"I do not count myself an expert." He attempts to downplay it. Secretly hoping the notion impressed you.
"But you can steer me into the right direction?" You confirm. He stands there a while longer. Thinking about his duty, honour and every lesson beaten into him since he first picked up a sword. And, far more dangerously, thinking about you and the way he caught you pleasuring yourself so beautifully.
The princess, the same woman sitting before him who looked at him as though he were more than a knight standing guard outside her door.
Simon clears his throat. "Please," you say soft and pleading.
"Why me?" He asks, not sure if he wants to know the answer for himself. You roll your eyes.
"Trust me, I don't think I'd be able to ask Johnny if I really wanted to. He'd tell on me the first moment he saw me, you wouldn't tell on me, Captain." The sultry words warmed his core. The way you called Soap by his real name, "You've got a lot to hide, sir knight, and I do too. I know you wouldn't tell on me, and we don't ever have to speak of this again." He ponders over it. Did he know what you were asking of him?
"What'd you need me to do?" You smile, like you knew he'd agree and that you'd won him over.
"To make it less scandalous for your poor eyes, I'll wear my night gown and touch myself. Show you what I'm doing and you can guide me on what to do." Almost like you're asking but teasing him he shakes his head. You rise from your spot, fluff the pillows behind you and rest yourself comfortably. In truth, you had some idea on what to do but never made yourself get to the end. Were you teasing him? Maybe.
The idea of this masked man in your bedroom watching you pleasure yourself sends waves of warmth to your core, feeling the cool air against your pussy as you situate yourself to be covered by your shift. You didn't know where you'd gotten this confidence, but ever since you'd been told to never ask about your private times by your septor, you knew you wanted an ounce of what your handmaids had experienced with men. If you couldn't have sex with any man besides your husband, you sure would have fun otherwise. You were royal after all, you could do what you damn well pleased.
You watch as he watches you, unsure for a moment before deciding for himself that he would help you, reassuring him that this was purely to help you and nothing more. Looking out into the hallway for a sign of Soap or any other guard, but was met with an empty hallway. Shutting the door and locking it from the inside, he turns to you with your sultry eyes, and your back against your poster bed.
That wasn't going to work for him.
"Come here." He says firmly, pointing to the edge of the bed. Your eyes widen at the change in the tone of his voice, a deep, gruff sound that sends you shivering in anticipation. You gulp and nod, listening to his command as he navigates you to the edge of the bed.
"Lie on your back at the end of the bed. I won't touch you, but I'm going to sit beside you." You nod and give him a cheeky smile as you lie back. Your head is almost at the edge, your legs soon splay out. The night shift, hiding your exposed bareness. You felt very out of your element in front of this man, a man definitely much older than you. But the notion of such a strong, large man watching you like this makes you excited. Gods, if your mother could see you, she'd be absolutely turning in her grave.
"Princess, if you want me to leave I can. I won't speak of this, I will lay my life on it." You shake your head and give him a small smile at his reassurance.
"I'm fine. You know you can call me (Your Name), I don't bite." You tease. He doesn't say anything, your words itch him in a way he doesn't explain. Your carefree and bratty attitude is making him feel hot under the leathers.
The things he'd do to you, thoughts of spreading you over his knee and spanking you till you're a bubblering mess under his hand. He shakes that thought off. You're trusting him right now. The least he can do is stop imagining things he shouldn't and focus on what you're asking of him.
"Lay back for me." You listen closely and rest your head back, his body now sitting behind you on the floor by the bed. Kneeling so his head is now over yours, not too close of course. You move the shift from your legs, spreading your thighs just enough for Simon to see your cunt. Peaks of your folds peaking out for him at this angle.
"Bloody hell..." The softness of your skin under the fire lit in the hearth and the candles by your bed. He'd give what left of his soul to be able to touch it, if he could. You smile at his reaction, flattered and blushing under his gaze.
"You sure, m'Lady?"
"Yes!" You insist firmer. He nods and looks over your almost breathless body.
"Place the tips of your fingers at the centre of your cunt. Just like that." He trails off as you begin to place your pointer and index fingers at the sensitive spot on your folds, tipping your head up to watch. "Gently, begin to rub it how it feels good. How you were playing with yourself before I interrupted."
You start to circle your fingers, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. "Show me, Princess." You gasp and mewl at the sensation, sending your head back onto the bed. He chuckles, a deep throaty noise that seems to send you straight to seeing stars as you moan a bit louder.
"Look at you... I think you know what you're doing, little princess." He says. "Is your pretty cunt wet?" You reach further down between the circles to feel the wetness forming on your fingers; you nod messily with your bottom lip between your teeth.
"Am I making you wet?" He says without hesitation, deep in your ear. The warmth of it fanned the hairs. You nod again, you open your eyes, met with the ones behind the mask, which continues to remain on. The sight of the dark brown irises sends you into deeper and deeper pleasure. The not knowing makes you buckle under your fingers. The same man you'd watched beside your father for years was now above you, speaking absolute filth into your ears and watching you play with yourself.
"That's it, you know what to do." He reassures. You clench your eyes shut in pleasure at his voice and reassurance. "Touch your breasts for me, use your free hand to play with them." He commands, voice confident now. No longer unsure about breaking boundaries, enjoying himself right now. Everything he'd ever worked for in his life, all coming into this moment. "Fuck you're beautiful."
You use your free hand to palm your breast over the top of your sheer dress, the warm light allowing the pointed peaks of your nipples to poke through. "Fuck." He mumbles, he resists the urge to palm them himself. Wondering what you'd feel like to touch. "I think you were loud on purpose - wantin' someone to hear your cries. Want them to come in and help you finish what you started." You almost nod, it wasn't true, but the thought makes you moan a bit louder. "Were you hoping it was me waiting outside your door or Johhny?" You shake your head and look up at him pleading.
"You." you admit to him, which makes him smirk.
"The princess wants a man to touch her needy cunt." You nod fast with eyes clenched shut and your mouth open. Eyes fluttering open to watch his eyes focus on you.
"Can you touch me?" You plead and whine. Your fingers continue to work your clit, and his cock continues to strain in his trousers. By the Gods, he'd love to devour you with his mouth. Watch as you writhe on his tongue, but he settles for guiding you with his words. Continuing to sit behind you, settling by your head on the floor.
"You beggin' now, princess. What happened to the confident woman before?" he teases as he reaches for your free hand, clasping it in his. The feeling of his warmth from his gloved hand brings you back to the sensations between your legs. One you've never felt so intensely before in your life. You shake your head.
"No, I want you to touch me properly." You turn to face him, only slowing your movements slightly. Fingers are still working themselves at your clit. He shakes his head. "Please, Si." Desperate pleas falling your mouth along breathy moans and squeeks as you work your clit. "Touch my tits, please." He compromises with himself, tits were a lot less intimate than anything else. "Gloves off." You command now, a sense of confidence coming back.
He doesn't question it, throwing his dark leather gloves off his hands he watches as you continue to play with yourself. You were going to be the death of him. Without hesitation he palms your right breast, your body curves at his touch. "Oh gods..." you mumble.
"That's it." He encourages you to continue to circle your clit. The feeling of your breast in his hand sends his cock even more achingly hard, the pointed nipple poking his rough palm. If you'd told him he'd be touching a princess, watching her pleasure herself like this, he'd tell himself he's joking.
But here he was, not sure how he'd be able to function. How would he be able to look at you again? He'd definitely needed to relieve himself later, but right now, all he can think about is the sounds you're making and the way your body can't seem to react with him touching you like this and whispering things in your ear.
"Look how pathetic you are, touching yourself in front of me. Is this making you wet, Princess?" You nod, barely able to speak a word. Too lost in the new sensations. You start to feel a build-up in your core, the warmth spreading to your cheeks. The way his hand touches your body sends shock waves through you. How had you gone so long without experiencing this? Why hadn't you asked him sooner?
"I-I think I'm going to come." You say shakily. You'd heard about it from your handmaid Lily, who'd explained how good it can feel once you reach it.
"Good girl." That did it, sending waves of pleasure through you, your body curved and arched with your head shot back, and eyes scrunched together. Simon's hand still on your breast and your fingers slowly on your folds, you moan loudly, your body convulsing to the feelings. Stars crossing your vision and the world exploding in a sea of warmth. Wetness spreading to your arse and all over your hand and thighs.
Trumpets sound, breaking Simon from you. The sound sent you and him back to reality in an instant. The King had returned; he had to go. You sit up, your face flushed and your eyes now tired with now a light glow present on your face. He gets up, rushing for his gloves as he gets up.
"Thank you Si." He nods, runs his hand along your jaw, patting your head lovingly before retreating for the door. He adjusts the feeling in his pants, looking back once more to face you.
"Sleep well, princess." You wave him off, landing back onto your pillows and curling in the blankets satisfied. He smiles to himself under the mask and shuts the door behind him heading straight back down the hall. Meeting back with Soap at the post by the gates, not looking him in the eyes.
"You alright there Simon?" Soap says.
"More than fine." He says, a little more chuffed and proud of himself.
Soap gives him a looking over before Ghost returns within himself, his pants starting to loosen as he returns to his task.
Forever thankful he'd been tasked with keeping an eye on you and not Soap. Knowing that he'd be thinking about you for the rest of his life.
