#haiiii

P1, P2

Sorry guys no beta. Just assume everything I write has no beta read

CW unprotected sex, obviously unprotected sex I never write condom smut, uhh idk Simon riley wants that cookie really effing bad???

He leaned back in the seat, bouncing his knee as the bolts creaked slightly. Some briefing this was, Price had barely said anything of importance. The usual crap, just regurgitated for the umpteenth time until the mission.

Simon just tuned it out, opting to replay the sound of your laugh from earlier in his head instead. You seemed so easily cheerful, but in a way that didn’t feel like an act. You seemed like you didn’t really care what others thought, but then again, he’d just met you.

He wasn’t even sure what you’d actually do tonight when he’d show up at your quarters, keeping himself together even though you’d hinted at something slightly sexual. Or maybe you meant actual company, just to sit down and chat. His fingers pressed into his jeans slightly, rubbing the rough material to ground himself.

When Price was finished, Simon had stood up so fast that the chair he’d been sitting in screeched against the floors. Soap glanced over, grinning slightly.

“Ye got somewhere to be, ye sly dog?”

Simon shot him a look, his jaw flexing under his mask as he started to walk out.

“Not anything I need you knowin’ about, MacTavish,” he muttered, grabbing a tea he’d made before the meeting had started. It was still warm, the meeting seriously hadn’t even been that long. Simon was in a bit of a hurry and it wasn’t a secret.

But he didn’t care, nodding to Price who had a clearly amused look on his face, and left the room. His shoes were making a heavy sound as he marched himself to his room, intending to clean up just a bit before he could see you again.

-

If he had a tail, it would’ve been wagging with anticipation as he rummaged through his drawers, pulling out a grey henley he’d worn once or twice before on base. It was his “going out” shirt when going out really meant trying to pick up birds.

Simon hadn’t gone looking for sex in years at this point, maybe two. He was too old in his mind, too old to be prowling pubs for half-assed, mildly disappointing sex with a woman that tried not to look at his face.

As he changed, he found a little resistance in the older shirt, struggling to tug the sleeves down his bicep, and after that his chest. He grumbled slightly, putting on deodorant and shifting his torso a bit before checking his appearance in the small mirror attached to the wall. Simon really wasn’t sure when the last time he’d worn the shirt was, but he knew it had been looser. Ah, what was he supposed to do? Didn’t women like that crap anyway?

Pulling his mask back on, and rolling his sleeves up a bit, he grabbed two beers from his tiny personal fridge, the last he had. He wasn’t one for drinking on base, but what could one brew each really do?

-

As he walked to your room, across base, mind you, Simon kept thinking about how ridiculous this situation really was. He’d been a regular man when he’d woken up this morning, and now he was practically skipping to a birds quarters. He’d almost wanted to turn around and let whatever this was turning out to be die just as quickly, almost. But then he would get another flash of your face, your hips, the way you glanced at him when you were locking your office door, and he would pick up his pace.

When he finally got there, he cleared his throat a bit, shifting in the tight top once again before knocking thrice, trying not to pound on the door too much. About ten seconds passed before he heard the knob rattle, and the door swing open.

It had become a habit for Simon to look down instinctually as most people were shorter than him, especially women. It just made eye contact easier, but he still hadn’t really gotten it into his head your eyes were higher up than he expected. Simon was instead greeted with the wonderful sight of your breasts in a grey tank top, no bra.

He chubbed up in his pants nearly immediately, clearing his throat to look up at you once he’d realized his miscalculation.

“Simon! Wow! I didn’t expect you so soon,” you greeted, clearly not caring about the compromising situation as much as he did.

“I was just finishing up my dinner, but please, come in!”

You sounded so nice, the way your voice lulled him into relaxation after just moments. He still couldn’t believe how your voice had him wrapped around your finger despite not knowing him for more than a few hours.

Simon mumbled a soft thank you, and slipped into your room while you shifted to the side, smiling a bit before closing the door behind you.

You had your hair up, bangs swept over your brows just slightly, with a tank top and comfortable looking brown pants. Not to mention the socks, a bright blue with little depictions of cats on them.

Your room was homey, including a small kitchenette with something that smelled wonderful atop the stove in a pot. The overhead light was off, with a few lamps turned on in its place. You had a few photos on the walls, some of places, some of you in groups of people, and one of you skydiving. That one was not flattering, the wind pushing your skin around in awkward ways, but it was too funny not to frame.

Your bed was like a college dorm, raised and twin, with a few blankets piled on top. There was a small wooden table beside the kitchenette with two chairs, and a place setting with a spoon and half eaten bowl of soup. There was a candle flickering as well—absolutely not allowed by base code, but Simon wouldn’t tell. Made the room smell nice.

“S’nice in ‘ere,” Simon complimented, gazing at a few pictures, beer in hand as he stood awkwardly in the entrance. “Ye look nice too.”

You smiled, offering a soft chuckle as you walked to the stove, grabbing another bowl from the dish rack and pouring a bit of the soup you’d made into it.

“Thank you, I try to keep it as fresh as I can in a dreadful place like this base,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder gesturing with your chin for him to sit at the table. “You look not so bad yourself, I like your shirt.”

Simon smiled under his mask a bit, feeling his cheeks heat up. Watching your back as you got him a bowl of your meal without even asking had him flattered, he wasn’t used to be pampered, if you considered this pampering.

Your butt looked pretty good too, but he convinced himself it was your hospitality that was making him lightheaded.

“You allergic to anything?” You asked, placing the bowl in front of him along with a spoon, rolled up in a paper towel napkin.

Simon shook his head, staring down at the soup that smelled incredible, eyeing the chunks of beef. He looked over at you as you sat down, pulling your feet up onto the chair so your knees were under your chin.

Cute, he thought.

“I uh, brought us these,” he said, gesturing to the two beers on the table, waiting for your reaction before he actually cracked one open. “Wasn’t sure if ye drank or not.”

You hummed, wiping your mouth a bit while nodding.

“I actually just ran out, you’re an angel..” you replied as you reached for one of the cans, cracking it open with a hiss.

Simon felt a little prideful, patting himself on the back for bringing a gift. What a good guest he was. But it was only a few moments before you asked him the question he knew was coming.

“So, do you eat through the mask or what? I can blend the soup if you want the full experience,” you joked, grinning at him as he found himself laughing a bit too.

“Tempting.. but I’ve got a couple beauty marks on my face, ye know?”

“Yea, I kind of guessed. The attractive yet mysterious type?”

“Exactly,” he replied, knowing you weren’t stupid. Men wore masks around base often, so it wasn’t too surprising, but they usually took them off post mission.

“To be honest, m’not usually one to take it off, don’t wanna scare pretty birds away.”

You hummed a bit again, tilting your head as him.

“Well, you don’t need to take it off, but let me know sooner than later so I can put that in a container for you to take back,” you said, smiling so kindly at him, your voice so velvety and smooth. Simon swore he could’ve probably just died from how understanding you were, how you didn’t press.

“Nah, if ye don’t mind a bit of an ugly mug, I’d prefer to take it off.”

You shook your head, shrugging while you took a sip of your beer, and looking back down at your bowl to scrape up a bit of meat onto your spoon. You were planning to get a second helping anyway.

Simon took a soft breath, tugging the mask off of the top of his head, briefly wondering if he was insane. He rarely took his mask off in front of the task force, and once again, he’d just met you.

Feeling his hair drag against the fabric, the cool air hit his face, and you tried not to let your curiosity blatantly show. His jaw was sharp, though you could already see scars.

As he pulled off the mask fully, you were pleasantly surprised at the blonde hair. Short and light. His face wasn’t all that bad either, he was actually attractive. Somehow he made the cleft lip work in a rugged way.

“I get it now, you wear the mask because you’re blonde.”

You hadn’t even meant to say that, hand flying over your mouth a bit as you laughed slightly, apologizing to this man that, unbeknownst to you, was the most vulnerable he’d been in ages.

But Simon didn’t see it that way. He laughed, grinning as he cracked his beer, looking over at you without a hint of insecurity. You weren’t looking at him in pity, disgust, or disappointment. You looked at him like you’d laughed like this ever night.

“See, ye get it, it’d be bloody traumatizing to my new recruits if they know ol’blondie was pinning them.”

He took a bite of the soup, enjoying himself as he savored the broth.

“Ah, love this is great,” he mumbled, not even registering the pet name. Neither did you honestly, it just felt normal.

-

Another helping for you both and two empty beer cans later, you and Simon still sat at your table, laughing and talking like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Sometime during dinner, your legs found themselves draped over his, and Simon didn’t mind one bit. In face, he’d pulled your chair closer so not of your thighs rested on his, his hand atop yours.

“Sooo… Simon.. you uh.. got anywhere you need to be this time around?” You ask, your head tilting to the side as you casually shift your thigh under his broad hand, earning a gentle squeeze in return.

“Not anywhere as fun as ‘ere, love,” he replied, having called you “love” at least six times since you’d had him at your table.

You grinned, glancing away slightly before your grin expanded a little more, your eyes landing on his again.

You were suddenly moving, swinging your legs off of his, standing, and then straddling him. He’d pushed his chair out slightly with his heel to give you some space to sit, his hands running up your long legs.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you said, your hands on his jaw as your eyes stared into his. The way you said it had him half-hard, and your thumb brushing his skin was certainly speeding him up.

“I’d love to kiss you,” he murmured, closing the gap as his hand slid up the nape of your neck, tangling into the tied up hair. His lips were rough, stubble slightly scratchy where scars didn’t cover, a stark contrast to your soft, plump lips and smooth skin.

He groaned slightly, once hand finding your hip and squeezing the fat to guide your already grinding hips over his hard-on. You let out a soft moan, deeper than he had heard from a woman. It was refreshing, knowing you weren’t trying to preform for him.

He broke the kiss, wanting to hear more of you while looking up at you, eyes glossy with pleasure.

“Yer fuckin’… god yer bloody gorgeous..” he murmured, hand kneading the flesh of your hip as his other moved to your waist, “can’t believe I’ven’t seen ye around before.. tall bird li’ you is hard to miss..”

You grinned down at him, before another deep moan took over your throat, his jeans providing great friction against your clit through your thin clothes.

“I-I’d heard of you.. like you were some—mmmf—legend throughout b-base.. d-didn’t realize you’d be so easy on the eyes..” you replied, completely genuine in your words. You liked how Simon looked, especially how his scars complimented his face.

That had him up in seconds, his hands supporting you as your legs wrapped around him while he carried you to your crappy twin bed, and put you down in a huff. You bounced on the bed slightly, reaching down to pull your tank top off to reveal your breasts. Just another part of you Simon couldn’t find a single issue with, not that he was looking.

He leaned down to kiss you fervently now, moving his hand to your abdomen, playing with your waistband slightly before your own grabbed his wrist and shoved downward.

His fingers slipped over your mound and down to your slit, already soaking for him. He mentally rejoiced at the feeling of hair as well, god he loved a woman.

It had been a while, and just a few minutes of grinding has you worked up like you were in high school again. He grinned, knowing he was harder than he’d been in years. Nice to know the feeling was mutual.

His tongue pressed into your mouth, licking at your teeth, breathing through his nose heavily, inhaling your natural smell. You were so warm, so soft, so right.

His fingers dipped inside of you, two already stretching your gushing cunt deliciously as you bucked up into his hand, feeling the pads curl against your sweet spot.

“Love.. ye been needing this, ‘aven’t ye?”

You whined slightly, trying to close your legs around his wrist.

“Ah.. c’mon, play nice with me birdie..” he purred into your ear, moving to force your legs open with his own.

“If ye need me to stop, red, okay?”

You nodded a bit, enjoying the feeling of his fingers more than you realized before he stopped. You whined again at the sudden halt, but Simon kissed you softly as apology.

“Need t’hear ye say okay? If ye want me to stop, red is the word.”

You felt yourself get even wetter, ridiculously floored by his insistence on your comfort. Most military men just fucked and left, you felt a little foolish thinking Simon was the same.

“Red, Simon, if I want you to stop.”

“Atta girl…”

He resumed his fingering, kissing you again while nipping at your lips. Your fingers found their way to his hair, gripping and pulling him down more as he added a third finger. You were whimpering and bucking, your throaty moans making Simon almost dizzy as he rutted the edge of your mattress with his clothes crotch.

“Simon.. fuck.. want you to fuck me..” you pleaded, moving to shove your pants and underwear down, while Simon hummed, pulling his fingers out to lick them clean. Usually he’d have whatever woman he was with lick them off, but he was feeling selfish.

“I was gonna eat ye out too love-“

“No.. need this right now.. can do that later..” you mumbled in broken thoughts, trying to pull him up onto the twin bed with you as you scooted back.

He wasn’t going to fit on it, and you both knew that. He was planning to just get you off with his mouth this time around and invite you for some actually action at his room tomorrow night, but it didn’t seem like you were interested in letting him go without getting his dick wet.

“M’gonna break this bed o’yers if I get on it love..”

You knew it was true, leading you to get off, and pulling him down to the floor with you onto your semi-plush rug. You’d fuck him on the floor if that’s what it took.

Simon, ever the man to adapt wasn’t complaining, quickly unbuttoning his pants as you licked lips again, his hand bracing the underside of your head from the floor. His cock sprung out immediately after he barely pushed his boxers down, slapping down on your mound heavily.

“I haven’t got a rubber..” he mumbled into the kiss, realizing he’d forgotten one like a rookie.

You kept kissing him for a minute, your hand on his jaw again before you broke the kiss.

“M’on the pill… and m’clean..” you murmured, and that was all Simon needed to hear. You were both adults, both knew the risks.

“M’clean too,” he said, breaking the kiss to pull your thighs up onto his own kneeling ones, your legs wrapping around his waist. His cock was huge, to say the least, throbbing at he jerked it a few times before he nudged his tip at your folds, looking down at you.

“Ye ready, love?” He asked, rubbing his head up and down your slick, making you moan softly. You nodded, tilting your hips up a bit as he pressed in slightly.

You felt yourself stretching to accommodate him, enjoying every second as you watched his chest heave in that tight shirt he still had on.

He pressed in, and pulled out slightly, pressing in and pulling out while going a bit deeper each time to let you get used to his size, making you moan loudly, followed by his grunts.

“F-fuck.. Simon.. c-can feel you in my.. mmmff..”

“Ye love.. fuck.. I know.. yer fuckin’ milkin’ me..”

When he finally bottomed out, he leaned down to kiss you again, one hand still under your head as the other supported your hips upward. He stilled for just a moment before starting to fuck you hard, his tip kissing your cervix as your back rubbed against the carpet.

He broke the kiss, grunting as he pressed his face into your neck, nipping at the skin.

“Bloody gorgeous bird li’ yerself just takin’ me so well.. fuck… this cunt must be made for me.. legs have no business bein’ this long…”

He was already getting close, his hips and balls smacking into you repeatedly, his grunts turning to moans.

Without thinking much, he flipped you over into prone, his chest now pressing into your back as he sunk deeper into your cunt, one hand holding your hips as the other rubbed your clit. His head was pressed against yours, his weight nearly crushing you, but you didn’t really mind.

You felt yourself getting closer, hands gripping the carpet as you whimpered, mumbling out incoherently.

“M-m’gonna cum.. f-fuck m’gonna cum.. p-please cum inside me..” you moaned out, begging in such a velvety desperation.

Simon grunted loudly in your ear, nipping at the lobe before he exhaled.

“Gonna put my fuckin load right in yer womb lovie… have ye keep my cum all warm and safe in tha’ fuckin cunt o’yers…”

And deliver on his promise, did he. You came immediately, his fingers still rubbing your clit as you moaned into the carpet, toes curling and fingers gripping at the fibers whilst your womb contracted around his cock rhythmically.

He followed shortly after, his balls raising as he shot his cum right up against your womb, willing it to find its way inside. He kept thrusting, forehead pressing into the nape of your neck before he slowed, panting heavily.

He made sure to flip you around, checking your face and overall state before kissing you softly, his hand gently smoothing down your sweat slicked hair on your forehead.

“Ye wanna get cleaned up and go to my room? I’ve a queen sized.”

god forbid a girl have hobbies

GETTING DOWN UNT GABBERSTÄG!!!