Smut: Random x Male!Reader

William Riker | What Happens In Ten Forward, Stays In Ten Forward

who could've guessed, another space slut.
no beta, just had to get this out of my system asap

included kinks:
exhibitionism
watersports
daddy kink
mild age play
riker calling the reader pup

dynamic:
D/s
sub!reader
ftm!reader

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Riker tried to take you with him on away missions as often as possible, convinced he could look out for you best this way.
The away mission to Epsilon Indi IV was routine on paper: survey a pre-warp civilization's ruins for potential archaeological data, beam down with a security detail, and avoid contaminating the site. But with the Enterprise orbiting above, the hum of the transporter always carried that edge of uncertainty.
You materialized on the dusty plain, tricorder in hand, the alien sun beating down on your red command tunic. Commander Riker stood beside you, phaser holstered but ready, his broad frame a reassuring presence amid the crumbling stone structures that whispered of a long-lost culture.

"Be careful, no unnecessary risks", Riker gave orders to the away team, his voice carrying over the comms with that natural authority. He glanced your way, blue eyes scanning for threats before settling on you.
"You good, kid? First time on a site like this, stick close."

'Kid' landed like a spark, casual from him, meant to steady you as the junior officer. But it ignited something deep, a flush of heat low in your belly that you had to shove down hard. Shame prickled your skin; churning in your belly. This was just a mission, just his manner of speaking, him trying to look out for you.

You nodded sharply, focusing on the tricorder's readings: there were faint energy signatures in the soil, while Riker's hand brushes your shoulder in a quick, protective squeeze, oblivious what his choice of words did to you.
"I've got your back."

As the team fanned out, he positioned himself between you and the denser ruins, deflecting a loose rockfall with a swift arm when the ground shifts.
"Easy there, kid, watch your step."

Again, that word, paired with his vigilant gaze, made your pulse stutter, a rush of blood making you twitching traitorously against the confines of your uniform. You bit the inside of your cheek, ashamed of the arousal coiling tight, imagining his voice in darker contexts.

By the time the transporter chief recalled you, data secured, no incidents, your face burned under the pretense of the planet's heat.
Back aboard the Enterprise, the corridors felt too bright, too exposed. You headed to your quarters first, stripping off the dusty uniform and stepping into a sonic shower to scrub away the mission's grit.

As you got rid off the sandy dust of the windy surface, you tried to scrub away the echoes of Riker's protectiveness as well. The way kid rolled off his tongue like endearment, like a promise. It stirred a need you've burried, burried deep for years now. One that feels oh so wrong to voice.

Later, off-duty, you found yourself at his door, heart hammering as it slides open. Riker looked relaxed in civilian slacks and a soft shirt, a glass of synthehol in hand.

"Hey. Debrief's informal tonight. Come in."
With a soft smile he gestured to the couch, but you hover, words sticking. He noticed immediately, setting the glass down.
"Everything alright? You seemed off after the beam-up."

You sank onto the edge of the cushion, trying to put as much distance between the two of you without offending him, yet managing your guilt and stared at your hands.
"The mission... you called me- called me something. Called me kid. It- it did something to me. Made me feel... safe, but also...", heat flooded your cheeks. "Aroused. I'm ashamed of it. But I... I want you to call me that during... us. Doing stuff. 'Kid' or 'son.' Like, in bed. If that's weird, forget I even asked, it's gross and I'm making it weird-"