They do say never to feed a wild animal. Ghost seems to attach himself to you, after you complimented his eyes and called him pup. He doesn’t realize it at first, doesn’t realize how he mentally tracks you and where you are in the base depending on your schedule until someone asks where you are and he answers off the cuff.
It takes getting pulled aside by Price to realize he’s been staring at you nonstop when you’re in the room- and apparently everybody’s noticed. It takes him showing up to your office door two days after and chickening out- then again another day, then again the next- that you left an imprint on him. Tailing you when you’re out and about on base, getting a little closer every time until he loses his nerve the moment you close the office door.
You catch him one day, turning a corner only to have you staring back at him with your arms crossed and a pout on your face. For once, Ghost felt like prey instead of hunter- eyes wide as he stiffly stood there, death like silence settling over him like he was mentally prepping himself to be thrown on the next mission possible just to escape the shame.
“Ghost- you know you don’t have to stalk me like this, right? It was cute at first, but people are starting to get worried. Look- just- come on. Walk with me, pup,” you lightly chastise him, and Ghost doesn’t move an inch as the nickname makes his dick twitch. You pat your thigh lightly like you were calling to a dog, and he finally moves forward until he’s walking with you.
It gets worse from there, now that he has full permission to breathe down your neck. Following less than a foot behind you wherever you went, like a giant shadow of death as you went about your day. He can’t seem to lose interest, can’t seem to focus on anything else unless you direct him to it. Maybe it was all the military training ingrained in him, and now that he saw you as-.. something in charge, the lieutenant couldn’t seem to help himself.
And you definitely didn’t try and dissuade him, extremely happy to have a new pet to play with as you tugged him around, cooing sweetly at things he did all the time. Like when he followed you into a diner and had to knock his knees against yours to fit inside the booth, or when he dozed off next to you while you typed away at your computer.
Especially once he gets shot clean through the shoulder and is forced to rest on base, basically making a second home in your office on the couch as the man slowly recovers. It started as something he desperately tried to hide, until he realized how much attention he got when he was hurt. You practically babied the grown man, whining and sighing about your poor pup all banged up. Helping him eat, helping him manage his pain, helping him change and shower.
Maybe the shower was when it really solidified, when the Ghost was no longer there and Simon was all that was left. Scarred, exhausted and unable to reach around to scrub his body- that’s why you pushed him in there, calling him a mangey dog and insisting you’d help him bathe. You did, to be fair- thoroughly, making the man nearly fall asleep as you scrubbed him down, dressed him in fresh sweats and rubbed some kind of moisturizer into all his scars.
“Why?” He says as you moisturize a raised burn scar on his calf. Your hands slow, eyes glancing up at him. “Why what, pup? You have to be specific,” you mumble, watching the man shiver at the name. Every time it seemed to make Simon come out, something softer.
“Why’re you- doin this? I don’t need all this, I’m not soft,” he grunts out, tensing when your hands come to a complete stop. Did you finally realize? Were you mortified?
Your hands come up to cup his face, ignoring his grunts when you press a kiss to each eye. Settling over his lap, and Simon has to work hard not to twitch under your hips settling against his. He’d done everything he could not to scare off your kindness- even if he jerked off to the thought of you milking him dry every night.
“What makes you say that? Everybody’s soft, dumb dog. You may have blood on your hands, but that doesn’t make your guts and heart any less squishy. See?” You say matter of factly, fingers reaching to squish his hip tightly under your fingers. He jerks slightly, and you tut at him in disapproval for moving.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” he grunts, and you tweak his tit in response as the lieutenant lets out a pained hiss. “Course it does. Don’t think about it, just listen to me pup.” You say matter of factly, eyes low and free hand still cradling his soft jaw. Something deep inside him wants to whine- but he hasn’t made that noise since.. god. He couldn’t remember.
“Yer weird,” he says instead, and you give him the same grin you’d been wearing the first one he’d taken.
“And you’re hard.”
You openly laugh at the way his face turns a sweet cherry red, moving to cover it when your own hand blocks him. You lean further, letting his heavy dick press into your hip instead as you kneel between his massive legs. The honest to god strangled yelp that leaves his throat is beyond Ghost, fingers trembling in your grip as you lean into his space.
“What? Dogs are always excited over nothing, it’s not a big deal. You’re fine, pup,” you murmur, placing a soft kiss against his scarred lips this time. Another whimper- and finally, FINALLY, those big hands are suddenly iron tight around your waist. You jerk from the force, softly tsking at him moving his shoulder.
“Please- please. I can’t take it anymore bird- please- please,” Simon begs, he fucking begs like a whore and he can’t help it anymore. Weeks of this- THIS with you, and now you’re pressed against his cock- fuck! Fuck, he was losing his mind!
“Shhh, shhhhhh. I got you, baby. You want a kiss, sweet boy? Is that it?” You ask softly, and the lieutenant can’t stop the way his lip wobbles just slightly at your tone as he nods. Your arms at once are holding him by the jaw, pressing your lips tighter against his. This time- Ghost doesn’t contain himself, tears slipping from his eyes as he whimpers against your lips and shoves his tongue down your throat. He’s never been this messy, he’s NEVER been this fucking pathetic before. You’ve done something to him, you’ve made his head feel fuzzy and all his survival instincts go on mute for once!
And your mouth tasted so GOOD. So good, so good- your body was so soft under his fingers- so good, so good- fuck, he could feel himself grinding against your hip- he couldn’t help it, couldn’t help himself- since when couldn’t he control himself-?
Your hand grips his bulge once, and Simon Ghost Riley is cumming in his sweatpants with a high whine. Jerking against you, hissing in slight pain as he aggravates his shoulder which somehow heightens his high. You kiss his cheeks, licking the tears dripping from them and coo like it’s normal that he’s like this. It wasn’t normal, he hasn’t been acting normal since you came into his life.
“Poor thing, you made a mess, huh? Let me clean it up, pups just can’t help themselves,” you murmur, sinking down and yanking down his now soiled sweats to lick the cum off his throbbing cock. Simon jerks harshly, a fresh spurt of cum coating your tongue as you lick the man clean, salty and bitter and absolutely Simon. His cock never softens, despite himself, so you keep suckling on the tip, watching as he whimpers and moans under your mouth. Hands gripping and tugging on his soaked cock, massaging his balls as if trying to coax more of his spunk out.
“So sweet, aren’t you? So good at giving treats, good boy!” You whisper against his shaft, before sucking him into your mouth entirely and feeling his body spasm against you. His thick tummy is trembling as he heaves for air, tears and spit drooling down his thick scarred throat like a painting. Fuck, he’s so cute!
“Birdie- birdie- fuck- please- ah-!” Is all Simon can manage to babble, thighs bracketing your head as he tries to buck into your mouth. It’s sweet, really- but he’s way too big! You let your teeth scrape in a slight punishment, only for his hand to suddenly grip the back of your head and cum down your throat at the slight shock of pain again. Fuck- twice in ten minutes. Jesus, the man had stamina.
His second orgasm has less cum, but it feels agonizingly long to the man as he falls backwards with a thump onto the bed. You finally pull off with a delicious pop, licking your lips and looking at the incredible planes of the man in front of you. Jesus, he was huge. Like a Great Dane, just big. You slowly crawl up to sit on his lap, sprawling out against his chest like a pleased cat as the lieutenant gasps for air and grabs onto you with shaky hands.
“Shhh, that’s it. Wasn’t that good, baby? Don’t you like being taken care of?” You murmur, kissing the bottom of his chin as Simon nods with a hiccup.
Sweet boy. Your good boy.
