#didnt proofread this dont impale me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

devilanon · 1 year

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omg omg what about Simon coming home with a collar and a leash!! being excited/nervous how they'll react? btw i LOVE your writing and you should know you're super talented :D

thank you anon :-) i do my best. contains both collaring for simon and reader. [nsfw below cut, gn reader, pet play? choking tw]

He just kind of slaps it on the table without preamble. He comes home, toes off his shoes, and gestures to the inconspicuous black bag he's brought home with him. “Got you a gift,” he says, tone flat. If it were anyone else you’d find it rude, but it’s Simon, so you see it as more of a mark of anxiety than anything else. He seems unwilling to meet your eyes, looking at you, then the wall, then the bag. He’s not normally so… twitchy. “Oh, what is it?” You peer over the table at him, waggling your eyebrows, just to needle him a bit. It works. He lets out an irritated huff. “Just fuckin’ open it,” he says, pushing it further toward your person, and now he really can’t look at you. (He's flustered. How sweet.) You open the (now conspicuous in how discreet it is, given the context) packaging to reveal a studded leather collar and a chain. "…Oh."

FOR HIM.

You blink up at him, holding the chain heavy in your hand. “For me?” He clears his throat a little, and you can see a flush rising onto the apples of his cheeks. “For me,” he clarifies, voice low and gruff. …Say no more. You can work with this.

Simon is not a good puppy. Not at first, anyway. He’s always been headstrong, difficult. He has an attitude, a sort of cockiness about him that needs to be... trained out of him.

For instance, on one occasion, you collar him and then set about doing paperwork while he's sitting at your feet, quiet, looking pensive. Over time he inches closer until he's resting his head on your knee. It's actually quiet cute, his big stone-gray eyes looking up at you, the collar affixed neatly to his thick and muscled throat; not too tight, just enough room to slip two fingers under the leather and tug. He's looking for attention, so you give it to him. You card your fingers through his short-cropped hair and he flutters those pretty eyelashes at you.

And then he's humping your leg. Grinding his half-hard cock against your clothed calf, making no show of hiding it. You gasp, yanking him back by the leash, and he lets out a choked gasp at the pressure on his neck. "Bad!", you chide, frowning down at him.

He's undeterred, because of course he is. "You like it."

You quickly learn punishment doesn't work. Edging is a pain because he can and will outlast you, should he put his mind to it. Impact play just gets him harder. In fact, he'll act out just to get a slap on the face, a bop to the nose. It almost becomes a game to him, frustratingly.

What does work is praise.

You have to ignore Simon when he's acting up, and reward him when he's being good. When he sits with his head in your lap innocently, keeping his hands to himself? "Good boy." He lets out a satisfied little chuff, closing his eyes when you rub a thumb over his cheek, let him suckle on it as you press it to his plush lips. (He has an oral fixation, but that's another story entirely).

When you pull him closer into your sex while he's giving you oral, chain wrapped tight around your hand, babbling praises at him as he sucks and licks at you, he looks like he's died and gone to heaven. He nods, eyes glazed, mouth slick with spit; yes, yes, he is a good boy, keep saying that to him, thank you.

Pull on his collar when you're on top, riding him, making his vision blur and his breathing stutter, and he's a goner. Even better if he's fucking you from behind and you yank the chain over your shoulder, forcing him deeper into your heat.

FOR YOU.

"For me?" You delicately trace the studs on the collar, feel the cool metal, the weight of it in your hand. "For you," he answers, looking at you curiously, trying to gauge your reaction. He gives you an out, then, nodding to the collar - "If you're interested." Of course you are.

He isn't too mean, despite what some may assume; it's less about dehumanization and more a show of dominance, ownership, caretaking, even.

He slips his fingers through the slack of the collar, using it to pull you up and down on his cock as you suck him, the slow drag of your mouth making him groan and curse. He heaps praise on you; "Good puppy, taking me so deep. Good fucking puppy."

He'll have you ride his boots, leaving them wet and shiny with your spend. He'll lean back in his office chair, legs spread wide, his thick, muscled thighs straining in his jeans, and he looks down at you with something like disinterest, like he's watching some a pet of his do something mildly irksome. "That's it, puppy. Hump my fucking boots. I know you want to." He wraps the leash around his knuckles, pulling so that you're forced to look up at him, eyes wet with tears and face burning with embarrassment.

Definitely yanks the shit out of the leash when he's fucking you from behind, though, so he can force you into a deeper arch while he slamfucks you, the fat of his hips clapping against your ass. It drives him a little wild, the sounds you make with your windpipe compressed.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod x reader #mine #didnt proofread this dont impale me

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