I Just Opened My App And Was Met With Some Really Hot Fanart. The Only Issue Was That I Was In Public….an

Price, holding Y/N under their arms: This is Y/N, they bite as well Ghost, gazing at Gaz and Soap: We really have too many task force members who bite

Reblog to have the most homoerotic year of your life 2024

leap of faith - aaron hotchner

title: leap of faith

summary: sometimes, all you need to find true happiness is to take a leap of faith.

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

word count: 1668

warning(s): mention of haley and underage drinking

a/n: so the idea of this story came from the amazingly talented @greg-montgomery's scenario here. all credit for this idea goes to them. if you want some really good hotch fics, please go check them out! i thought it was so cute and just had to write it. hope you guys enjoy!

This is not how I pictured my Tuesday morning at the office going, you think to yourself as Penelope crosses out yet another name from her lists of your potential suitors. With the help of JJ and Emily, she had managed to compile thirty-two names, and more than half of them have already been scrapped. Before today, you had refused every time they had brought up the idea of setting you up on a blind date. That was before you realized that the feelings you held for your boss, Aaron, were far from friendly. You knew that nothing would come of what you were feeling, so you came to Penelope’s office and told her that you would agree to one date.

“What about this one?” Penelope asks as she swipes to the next picture. This guy was not bad-looking, by any means. He looked young, had hazel that glittered with mischief, and there was a boy-next-door charm to him. Something about him seemed so familiar, though. You couldn’t quite place it. “His name is Thomas, he’s twenty-seven, and he works in the Cyber Response department.”

“He looks like a younger version of Hotch,” Emily remarks from her place to your right.

Penelope tilts her head and seems to consider this. “Huh. Now that you point it out, I can’t unsee it.” She looks at you. “What do you think, Y/N?”

Truthfully, you could see the tiniest bit of a resemblance between the two of them, but you know that this man would never compare to Aaron—Hotch. But you know that nothing will happen between you and Hotch. So, you see this as the perfect opportunity to start moving on. “He’s cute,” you tell Penelope. “I’ll give him a chance.”

Letting out a giddy squeal, she scribbles down his number and hands it to you. You text him as soon you leave Penelope’s office, introducing yourself, telling him that your friend from the office had told you about him, and asking him if he wanted to go out sometime.

Sure. Thomas writes back after a few minutes, Does Friday at eight sound good to you? There is a new Mediterranean place a few blocks away from my office I want to take you to.

It’s a date! I love Mediterranean food. :)

--

Friday comes faster than you expect it to. You’d made sure to bring a change of clothes and a bag of your favorite makeup to save you the half-hour drive back to your apartment to get ready. The dress you’re wearing is a little red number, courtesy of Emily, with a slit up your both your thighs and tiny straps holding it to your body. The first time you tried it on, you didn’t think your body would fill the dress out as well as hers did, but it fit like a glove. You felt confident in the dress; you felt sexy. It was the motivation you needed to not back out of the date.

You’re touching up your lipstick when a voice brings out of your thoughts. “I thought you left hours ago.”

It’s Aaron. “Hotch.”

He tilts his head, and the cute little frown he wears when he’s confused appears. “What are you still doing here? You should be at home getting some rest.”

“I have a date tonight, and I didn’t want to drive the thirty minutes home to get ready when the restaurant is only a couple of blocks away,” you explain, and he nods. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know how I let the girls talk me into going. I mean, I trust them with my life, but…” You laugh quietly to yourself.

“They just want to see you have fun and not focus on work all the time. We all deserve time to ourselves every now and again.” A small smile of his own comes over his face, and it makes your heart stutter in your chest. “At least that’s what Penelope told me before she tried to set me up on a date of my own.”

Your quiet laugh turns into incessant giggles. “Oh, I would’ve loved to see how that went.”

He shakes his head fondly. “Penelope meant well, but the woman and I didn’t click. Plus, I think it was too soon after my divorce from Haley. I wasn’t ready to let myself date again.”

You nod. “I understand that.” You stand from your chair and smooth out your dress with your palms, looking up at your boss. “Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Aaron tells you, but there’s something in his expression as he says it. You don’t know what to call it.

“Thank you.”

“I should let you get to your date. Have a good night, Y/N.” He turns and makes his way back to his office.

You are on your way out of the bullpen when—and you don’t know what compels you to do it, either—you look back at Hotch. The blinds to office are pulled open, but you notice a shift in his posture. His shoulders are drawn tight like a cord that’s about to snap, the expression void of the playfulness that was there not even two minutes ago.

You dig your phone out of your purse and text your date. Hey, Thomas! It’s Y/N. I’m sorry that this is so last minute, but something came up at the office. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it tonight. You walk up the stairs to Hotch’s office and knock on the door. “Y/N?” He asks when he opens the door. “Did you forget something?”

You shake your head. “No. My date cancelled on me.”

He frowns. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug your shoulders. “It’s fine, it was only a date. I don’t think it would’ve worked out anyway.” You look past his shoulder into his office. “What are you still doing here?”

He lifts a file folder into your line of sight. “Paperwork for our most recent case. I wanted to start on it before we’re called on a new one.”

“Do I mind if I join you?”

He purses his lips in confusion. “Of course I don’t mind, but all I’d be doing is paperwork. You’d have more fun watching paint dry.”

“Well, since my night is now free, all I’d be doing is taking a shower and having a hot date with my couch and a bottle of wine.” You smile at your boss. “Besides, I wouldn’t be watching. I’d be helping.”

Hotch shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that—”

“Hotch, I mean this with every ounce of respect and admiration I have for you, which is a lot, but please just shut up and let me help you.” He lets out a laugh in surprise. “I know that I don’t have to help, but I want to. Please let me.”

He steps to the side to let you come into his office, and you take a seat on his couch. “So, what can I do, boss?”

He smiles at his place from behind his desk. “Will you read me my notes from the file next to you? I’d like to put them in the report.”

You nod. “Sure thing.” You pick up the file to your left and flip it open, Hotch’s notes scribbled onto post-it notes stuck to the paper. “You ready?”

--

“No way,” you exclaim through your fit laughter. “No way that happened!”

The table in front of you is littered with takeout boxes. You and Aaron sit next to each other on the small couch, your knees grazing. Aaron’s half-empty container of beef Lo Mein sits in his lap while you hold your nearly full container of veggie fried rice.

“Well, it did,” Aaron’s smile stretches from ear to ear. “I’m sure there’s still evidence of it lurking somewhere on the internet.”

“I just… I have a hard time believing that Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the FBI Behavioral Analysis, jumped off the roof of a two-story house into a pool.” You spoon more of your rice into your mouth.  “It’s so out of character for you.”

“In my defense, I was sixteen and thought I was invincible. I may also have been drunk.”

“Huh. Aaron the troublemaker? Never would have pegged you that way.”

He tries to hide his smile under a bite of his Lo Mein. “There are a lot of things about me that will surprise you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’ve always loved a good mystery.”

Aaron tilts his head. “You know, now that I think about it, I never found out if that punch had been spiked or not.”

This causes you to dissolve into giggles.

--

“So, Y/N,” Emily asks as she walks through the bullpen the next morning with Penelope and JJ in tow, “how did it go last night?”

Penelope bumps her shoulder into yours. “Yeah. I want to know everything!”

Morgan looks up at the three of you from his desk, and Spencer does the same from his own. “What happened last night?”

“I was supposed to go on a date last, but it got cancelled last minute,” you tell them and then look between Penelope and Emily. “So, there’s nothing to tell.”

“That sucks,” JJ laments. You shrug and tell her that you weren’t really worried about it. There’s a lull in the conversation until you spot Aaron walking past the bullpen to his office.

You smile. “Morning, Aaron!”

He turns to you and returns your smile. “Morning, Y/N.”

Penelope, Emily, JJ, and Derek all turn to you once Aaron is out of earshot. “Aaron?” JJ asks, a tone of pleasant surprise coloring her voice.

You shrug nonchalantly, a small smile coming to your lips. “I’m solving a mystery,” you tell them before making your way to your desk.

The four of them share looks of bewilderment before Spencer speaks up. “You guys didn’t know? I could see it from a mile away.”

I’m so tired- I feel like shit. Rode hard and put up wet is a way to describe it. I just want the migraine and nausea to fuck all the way off. 🙃🥺🤕🤕

I feel so fucking nasty. I absolutely want death.

Let's play a little strip game?

Get attacked!! ✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈✨

I love you

gonna get you kneeling

Pairing; sub!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x dom!Fem Reader

Summary; People don’t understand this dynamic between you and Ghost. They make jokes, but they truly have no idea what you get up to behind closed doors…

Warnings; 18+ minors dni!!! age in your bio or BLOCKED! anywayyy sub!simon, dom!reader, collar and leash play, breast worship, kinda oral fixation, scent kink (he just likes how u smell okay), premature cumming, mention of breastfeeding/nursing, uhhh can’t think of anything else-

(a/n); uh. right. title is from High by Stephen Sanchez. uhm. i hope u guys like this. if u do pleaaaase let me know I’m nervous about it lmao. suddenly had a feverish burst of writing motivation and whacked out the last 1k so if it’s shit or doesn’t make sense or seems rushed then uhhhhh I apologise whoops-

Word Count; 5.8k

People don’t get it, this thing between you two. They really really don’t. They talk about it on base, they make jokes and look at you in that way Simon hates so much. 

He hardly even remembers how it started, a comment you said once he thinks. Someone made a joke about it, it was just something an officer said about his girlfriend, Simon wasn’t there he just knows it was something about BDSM or some such thing. And all you did was say ‘the lined collars are apparently much more comfortable’ with a smirk, as a joke, apparently confirming to everyone on base that he likes to collar you at home. 

It’s become a running sort of joke. Sometimes you hand him paperwork and apologise for it being late and the soldiers around him share a look. A quiet ‘she gonna get punished for that LT?’ came from one of them once but he never caught which one it was.

Simon mulls this all over as he watches you talk through a file with Price, lounging back in a chair and trailing his eyes over your form, slightly bent over the desk. As if on cue, you lean further over to reach something, trousers tightening around your ass for a moment. Simon drops his eyes to it immediately, before swallowing and looking back up to see you shooting a glance over your shoulder at him with a little smile. Tease. 

He thinks about fucking you over the desk for the rest of your informal meeting with the captain. 

He can’t help it, it’s just so easy to imagine. He thinks about the way his cock always rubs up and down your slit just before the head notches in your entrance, lubricating him with your wetness and stimulating your clit for a few seconds. Simon likes doing that, he likes the noises it elicits from you, but he loves being inside you more. He’s always ready to push straight into you, curl his body over yours as he gasps through your tight, wet, heat swallowing him up. But no, he wouldn’t do that he wouldn’t push straight in, he’d wait a little bit, see what you do. 

By the time he’s imagining your walls clenching around his shaft as you milk him for all he’s worth, you’re straightening up and turning back his way. A small smile plays on your face as you wander over, his body going taut and alert at your presence. His eyes stay trained on yours as you lean over him, still sitting down, but when you get to eye level he can’t quite help it. Your blouse just dangles so alluringly below, revealing the cups of your bra concealing where he really wants to see, and his eyes drop. 

Simon only means to glance for a split second, he just means to indulge himself quickly before paying proper attention to you again, but of course his eyes get stuck there. He gazes longingly at the skin peeking out from your bra cups, the way it’s pushed slightly over the top as you lean forward. Behind the balaclava his tongue flicks out over his lips and he thinks of later, later tonight when he’ll be able to-

A small giggle cuts him off and his eyes dart back up, where you’re watching him with amusement painted all over your face. He grins guiltily, knowing you can see by the way his eyes crinkle, and waits for you to say whatever you came over to say. 

With a glance around to check no one is looking too intently, you press a chaste kiss to his forehead and whisper that I’ll text you later, ‘kay? and I’ll see you at home?

His heart speeds up at that, just thinking about what will come later. All alone, in your shared flat, just the two of you and no intrusive soldiers on base watching you both. None of the prying eyes that are so certain they know exactly what you both get up to in your private time. 

Simon practically counts down the minutes until he’s home and waiting for your text. He knows you have more work to do, and that you’ll be another couple of hours yet, but he can’t stop imagining, fantasising. He’s not often home before you are, most of the time you leave together, but his lower belly warms at what this means for the rest of your evening. Simon wanders into the bedroom and opens the wardrobe, retrieving the box at the bottom. You haven’t texted him yet but he thinks he knows which way tonight will go. There’s a few options of course, it varies as to your moods usually, but he’s hoping for one in particular. 

His phone buzzes on the bed behind him, and he drops the lid of the box back down to reach over and check it. 

💬 Knees. 

-

With his hands trembling and his heart racing, Simon waits in position. 

He’s done this a number of times, it’s become one of his favourite ways to spend the evening, but it still excites him anyway. 

There’s a couple of footsteps close to the front door and he can hear your keys jingle on the other side just before you put them in the lock. Simon clenches his hands where they rest on his thighs and loosens them slowly, trying to calm himself for what’s to come. He wants to be here, be present and relaxed. 

The door opens and his head jerks up. 

A light in the hall shines behind you, and from his position it looks like a halo around your head. It makes your body look shadowed, but his eyes accustom to the light as he gazes up at you. The look on your face is satisfied, pleased, as your eyes trail over him and he hardens a little, your silent praise always enough to excite him. 

Simon curls and uncurls his toes, trying to prevent cramp from kneeling for so long. It’s worth it though, if you’re pleased. He kept his briefs on, the tight grey ones you prefer, and the collar he took from the box. Otherwise, the leash is the only other item, clutched tightly in his hands as they rest on his thighs. He twists it gently in his hands, wondering if he made the right move by not attaching it. 

Of course, you notice the movement. 

Nervous, Si?

He smiles, tension releasing from him in a small chuckle as he drops his eyes. Simon shakes his head, swallowing as he looks back up to your grinning face. You raise your eyebrows at him, clearly wanting a verbal answer-he wouldn’t want to disappoint you of course, so you receive a quiet no-no just-jus’ wanted y’to do it-

His head dips down again, cheeks beginning to flush as he speaks to you, but then your fingers lift his chin delicately, and his eyes go wide as he stares up into yours. 

He never thought his body, his strength, his voice, would lend themselves to being submissive in any way, shape or form. But you’d promptly changed his mind about that, after the first few times you’d been together you’d asked to try something. He’d been curious, said you could pretty much do what you wanted-he hadn’t expected the next two hours to be him gripping your shirt tightly and tearing up as you tugged on his balls lightly to stave off his orgasm for the fourth time. He’d begged and pleaded with you, tried to fuck up into your hand and tried to pleasure you in the hope that he might be rewarded, he’d promised he’d be good and that he’d do whatever you wanted, and eventually he’d been allowed to cum as you cooed in his ear how much of a good boy he was for you. Simon had blacked out after that for a few minutes, having orgasmed harder than he can remember ever doing, and come back to himself to you gently wiping him down and linking your fingers with his. 

He’d worried afterward, apologised haltingly to you for begging so much and chuckling self deprecatingly about his voice and the hole he ripped in your shirt. You’d kissed him then, in the doorway to the bathroom, hands clutching his face to yours intensely, and breathlessly reassured him that having a man his size reduced to a whimpering mess and his gruff voice begging and breaking as he looked up at you was truly heavenly. Simon had gotten hard just from the way you said it all to him, and a repeat of the event had shortly followed. 

A few months later you’d presented a little box to him. You’d squeezed his hand and kissed him softly, opened the box and presented him with a navy blue, fur lined collar. 

He’d almost stopped breathing at the sight, fingers tracing over the fluff inside and heart rate picking up as you quietly explained he didn’t have to, not at all, you just thought maybe it might be a nice sign of, well, something more. Something concrete, a symbol for you both. 

You’d tried it out that night, let him fuck you as you tugged on it where it was fastened tightly around his neck. He’d cum embarrassingly quickly, whimpering and drooling slightly into your neck as his mind went fuzzy. 

And now, your thumb brushes over his bottom lip as you murmur your question, as you tell him to use your words, si, what do you want me to do? If you don’t tell me what you want you won’t get it will you?

Simon stares up at you as your words wash over him, leaning slightly into you and subconsciously pushing the tip of your thumb into his mouth. He knows there’s an order in there somewhere, something he needs to do or reply to, but the idea of having you occupy his mouth somehow has been on his mind for the past few hours and he can’t resist the temptation.

He whines when you pull your hand back, chasing it a little before you tut at him and he recedes. 

Tsk, I asked you a question, si, didn’t I? Or have you forgotten every thought in that pretty little head already? I’ve barely done anything-

He flushes again at your words. Twisting his hands around the leash again, he tentatively holds it up to you. 

I jus’-uh, jus’ wanted you to-to put it on-

Simon presses his lips together, dropping his gaze and wondering if this was the right move after all. Maybe he should have just done it, maybe you’d have preferred it if he already had it attached, maybe you think he’s being lazy or disobedient or-

You pluck the leash neatly out of his hands, pulling it through your grip and trailing your eyes over it. It’s simple black leather, good quality and with lining around the loop for your hand. Simon clenches his jaw, watching you handle it deftly and admire it, salivating at the sight of you holding his leash. It’s not even attached to his collar yet and he can’t get enough.

One of your hands goes back to his jaw and he leans into it again, big eyes trained on you as you stroke his jaw affectionately. In a fluid movement, you slip the hand down his neck, over the column of his throat-squeezing gently for a split second just to hear his breath hitch and watch his cock jerk in his briefs-and down to hook a finger into his collar. Simon sucks in a breath at that, shuffling forward a few inches on his knees and baring his neck for you to attach the leash. 

You chuckle quietly at his eagerness, and he keens. He never thought it would be something for him, but the times when you laugh and giggle at how needy he gets or how hard he is just from making out? His mind goes a little fuzzy and empty at it. Together you’ve discovered that he likes praise the most, being obedient and being called a good boy as he gets rewarded, but every so often he has nights where he gets a little bit bratty. He disobeys your orders in small ways, just enough to tick you off, and eagerly awaits his punishment. His favourite part of it is when you’re doling out the punishment, spanking him or edging and denying him etc etc, and you mock him for how needy he is. Something about the way you laugh and tease him for the wet patch growing on his briefs reaaally does a number on him.

Simon doesn’t think he’s quite up for that today, the desire to be your good boy and be rewarded is stronger he thinks, but whatever you decide will be best, naturally. 

You lean down over him to find the link in the collar, and his eyes fall down yet again. You’re still wearing the same blouse from earlier, and he’s been thinking about the way your breasts almost spill out of your bra since that morning. A small metal click makes him blink and look at you, now realising that you’ve attached the leash. A rush of breath escapes him, pupils dilating and cock twitching as his mind goes quiet. He’s not quite sure what it is, but something about finally having the collar and leash attached and in your grip always puts a sort of blanket over his mind, he becomes one track, just wired to please and obey you and he can’t get enough of it. 

What do you want, baby? Tell me and i might reward you with it tonight-

Simon blinks up at you, doe eyed, already dizzy with the thought of a reward. He hasn’t done anything yet and you’re being so nice to him, letting him know there’s the opportunity to earn a reward at all. 

He blinks and tries to muddle through his thoughts a bit, sifting through the jumbled mess to figure out what he wants to ask for, what you might grant him. His gaze drops again, flicking between your questioning gaze and the swell of your chest. Swallowing, his tongue flicks out over his lips and he tries to find the words. 

He doesn’t find the words. 

He stares at your chest again for a few seconds, presses his lips together before glancing up, and immediately looking back down again. He can’t help it, he can see the way your chest moves as you breathe, the teasing cups of your bra covering what he wants most, the pretty swell and the shade of your skin he loves so much. 

uhm-I-can you-can I-uh-

That laugh again. That soft little chuckle as he stutters over his words, so fixated on your breasts he can’t even properly say what he wants. All of a sudden you’re straightening up and he’s opening his mouth to protest-no, to beg, to beg you to come back and let him see-just-just a little-

A stern look stops him and he swallows, shifting his tired legs again as he watches your movements avidly, not wanting to miss a second. Slowly, your fingers undo the buttons of your blouse, one by one starting from the bottom, until the blouse hangs open to reveal your bra. 

It’s really nothing special, just a plain black t-shirt bra that came in a multipack from a few months ago-but to Simon it’s heavenly, and he can’t stop looking. Subconsciously he begins to shuffle forward, eyes fixed on your chest and hands beginning to reach up. It’s been too fucking long he can’t do it anymore, it’s been forever he thinks, but really any time he doesn’t have his mouth on your chest is wasted time in his opinion. 

It’s another thing he never hugely thought about, people would talk about being a tits or ass man and he’d shrug, figure they were both pretty nice he doesn’t see why he would pick. And then you guys started exploring, you started tiptoeing into submissive territory, and now Simon is never happier than when you’re riding him or jerking him off and let him put his mouth on your breasts. He’s borderline obsessed with it, he fantasises at work and daydreams at home of sitting down next to you, of you lifting your shirt enough for him to start licking and sucking as you play with his hair. 

He did that a few weeks ago. Had a long day at work and came home with only one thing on his mind, found you leaning back on the arm of the sofa and settled himself down next to you, big body squashed onto the piece of furniture as he gently pushed your shirt up over your chest. You hadn’t been wearing a bra and he’d almost started drooling, wasting no time in attaching his mouth to you, gently lapping at your skin with his tongue and suckling at your nipple as his eyes fluttered closed. 

He knows you’d been a little surprised, he does it a lot when you’re having sex or when you’re teasing him, but having him just come home and use you almost like a pacifier? That was new. It hadn’t been long before one of his legs hooked over yours though, pressing the bulge in his cargo pants up against you. You hadn’t even done anything, didn’t even move, just let him whimper and whine around your nipple as he sucked gently and rutted against your leg. Only a few minutes later his other hand had come up to squeeze and grope your neglected breast, moaning into your skin and kneading your flesh as his hips stuttered and pressed firmly against you, trembling a little before pulling back and exposing the wet patch seeping through his clothes to you. 

To your surprise, he still hadn’t stopped. 

Simon had kept at it, slowed his movements a little as his other hand loosened to a gentle hold on your breast. He’d simply laid there with his eyes blinking drowsily up at you and sucked softly at your nipple. Eventually your hand had come up to run your fingers through his hair, and he’d closed his eyes fully again, dozing off lightly a few minutes later but still suckling somewhat at you. 

A small tutting noise reaches him and brings his mind back, just in time for you to take a step back out of reach. The hands he was raising to touch your chest fall back to his thighs and he looks down despondently, realising he was about to try and touch you without permission. 

Silently chastising himself, Simon peers up at you imploringly, hoping you might forgive the slight. He’s been punished for less when you haven’t been in a very forgiving mood, but he hopes tonight will be different. He wants more affection tonight, wants the praise and adoration you bless him with on some evenings like this. It’s up to you of course, but he can hope. 

He watches you tilt your head and look at him calculatingly, chewing the inside of your lip as you evidently debate what to do with him this evening. 

If you stay like this while I go and shower, you might get what you want. Might, if you’re a good boy-think you can do that for me?

His body tenses, hands balling into fists as his eyes dart between you and the bathroom door. 

No-no I-

Your eyebrows raise and his cock thickens in his briefs, aching from the way you look down so condescendingly. 

You can’t be a good boy? You can’t or won’t?

Simon gapes at you, hand unfurling and fingers twitching against his thighs as he fights to not touch you, grab at your thighs, pull your leg between his so he can hump it, anything. He fumbles over his words again, unsure how to say what he means. He’s sort of broached the subject before, but not like this. Not when you’re staring down at him like you can see every part of him laid bare, like he’s offering up all his thoughts on a silver platter but you’re making him say it anyway for the fun of it. 

No-yes I-I mean I can-I will be-m’just-don’t wan’ y’to leave-wan’-want y’to stay-stay here-

He avoids your eyes. 

That’s enough, surely, maybe you’re feeling generous and will let him off with that, with his desperation peeking through his words as he implores you to stay. 

Why?

Simon squeezes his eyes shut, hands balling up once again and becoming sweaty as he tries to calm his racing heart. One word from you and he’s fumbling again, glancing at the knowing look on your face and feeling his cock twitch at being made to spell it out properly. 

I-I don’t want y’to shower-

He swallows thickly and clamps his mouth shut. Enough enough enough, no matter how much you experiment or learn together or research, he still gets skittish when something new is exposed. He gets twitchy and grumpy, and he realises how you’ve decided to deal with it. The times he cums the quickest are the ones where he’s forced to tell you what he wants, where he has to use his gruff voice that he was so convinced could never be submissive to ask you for what he wants. And now you’re doing the same to extract this new information, to needle out a kink waiting to be explored. He breathes out shakily as he realises he never would have said anything if not for this, and you wouldn’t be asking if you weren’t on board. 

I’ll ask again, Simon. Why?

His big eyes peer up at you, seeking any sign of displeasure on your face. You don’t like having to ask more than once, he knows. Shifting his thighs to give some weak sort of friction to his aching shaft, his mouth waters as he imagines, as he fantasises about why. 

You-I don’t want-want y’to-I-

His breath comes quicker, tongue tangling with the words as he tries to relax. 

The warmth of your hand cupping his chin startles him for a second, but he leans into the thumb stroking his jawline eagerly. 

It’s okay, you can take your time. I’ll get it out of you eventually-

Simon has no doubt you will, but he doesn’t want to displease you. He can say it, he will say it. 

Speaking slowly and blinking at an invisible point on your leg, he tries again.

I-I don’t want y’to shower be-ah-because I-you-your scent-you smell…good-

He looks up at you like a kicked puppy, itching to hold you and waiting with baited breath for your response. 

Your lips curve into an innocent smile, entirely fake. 

But…I’m all sweaty from working all day, Si…

He whimpers before he catches himself, head ducking down slightly against your hand. Your grip turns tighter, grasping his jaw and pulling him back up to keep eye contact. 

I know-I-I like it-

A smug grin stretches across your features as you let him go, finally satisfied that he’s telling the truth. 

Delivering a soft kiss to his forehead, you whisper my good boy at him and he melts, eyelids fluttering closed as he preens at your affection. 

He thinks it probably will be that type of night, you seem like you’re going to be generous and praising with him-his cock jerks again at the thought and at the remembrance of the reward he might be granted. Eventually his eyes get stuck on your chest, subconsciously shuffling forward another few inches and waiting with baited breath as you shrug your blouse off and reach behind you to unhook your bra.

Simon’s mouth hangs open as you drop the garment to the ground and slowly lift your hands, cupping your tits and rolling your nipples between your fingers and thumbs. He should be the one doing that, he should be touching you and worshipping your breasts like he so desperately needs to, rather than just listening to your soft sighs of pleasure as he sits motionless. 

He opens his mouth, has to close it again to swallow because his throat is so dry from need, and he simply utters please-

He’s rewarded with a small giggle from you, and your hand winding the leash around your wrist to tighten it, tugging him forcefully up on his knees rather than sitting on his heels. 

Stand

You say it simply, patiently, yet he practically scrambles to his feet. It’s a clumsy movement, nothing like his actions on the battlefield or around the other soldiers. Ony clumsy for you, in your presence, because of what you do to him. Because of the anticipation of what you might do to him. 

Simon keeps his eyes trained on yours, intent on being your good boy tonight, intent on earning his reward and being obedient, with being perfect for you and being praised as such. Pulling the leash behind you, you amble toward the sofa, turning as you reach it to tighten the leather around your hand again and manoeuvre him onto the cushions. 

He sinks onto the sofa with a grunt, the furniture creaking quietly in protest of his large stature. His thighs automatically widen a little and he sucks in a breath as the material of his briefs chafes against his sensitive tip. His shaft has been throbbing for ages, for too long, and his head swims as he imagines you taking pity on him soon and indulging him.

One step forward and you’re situated between his legs, chest hovering enticingly in front of his face. His mouth waters, and he licks his lips. Your nipples harden fully in front of him, and he sucks in another breath as he tries to reign himself in. It fills his nose with the tantalising scent of you, the scent he’s so addicted to, that he couldn’t bear to let you wash away with perfumed products and lotions.

One finger finds its way under his chin, digging your nail in slightly as you drag his face to turn up to you, tearing his gaze away from your bare breasts-even as he tries to flick back down to see again and again. 

Maybe I’m being a little cruel-you have been very very good for me, and I know exactly what you want as a reward. You can use your mouth-but if you misbehave and make me regret this you know you’ll be punished don’t you? Simon gulps and nods at you, inching his face forward to try and finally, finally fucking finally get his mouth on your breasts, to be able to suck your nipples into his mouth like he’s been fantasising of for hours, days. 

Just before his mouth reaches you a sharp tug on the leash pulls him back a few inches, leaving him panting and grunting as he tries to pull forward and poke his tongue out, attempting to lick at you even though he’s too far away. 

Please-ah-please I will-I’ll be so-s’good-I’ll be a good boy I-please-lemme just-

His hands scrabble at the fabric of the couch cushions, gripping them tightly as you look down sternly at him.

I know you will, you always are for me-he preens at that, cheeks dusting pink as his throat bobs with a nervous swallow-but be careful. I’m still kind of sore from the last time I let you do this, so be gentle or-

Or I’ll be punished-I won’t I’ll-I’ll make sure m’gentle-make it feel good f’you-please-now please can I-

He knows he shouldn’t have done that, he shouldn’t have interrupted you. By all rights you should be stepping back and yanking his leash, gripping his jaw and hissing that you warned him what would happen if he misbehaved. But it seems he’s been good enough so far to let it pass, and you only eye him for a few more seconds before nodding, acquiescing to his needy desires. 

Without wasting another second Simon lurches forward, latching his mouth around one of your nipples and sucking hard. The movement pulls the leash from your hand and he vaguely hears you gasp as your palm instead comes to cradle the back of his head to you, apparently surprised by his eagerness. 

Simon feels you sway on your feet from him pressing against you and takes a risk, hooking his arms around your waist to crush you further into him as he sucks greedily. 

Oh-okay okay easy-I said-oh-I said gentle remember? Si-Si I said gently-or I’ll have to stop y-

He doesn’t even let you finish, the thought of being stopped abhorrent to him, he just whimpers as he loosens his grip around you, lessening the pressure of his mouth and laving over your pert nipple with light strokes of his tongue for a minute. 

Soft brown eyes stare up at you, wide and round and seeking your approval at his change, his restraint. Barely contained, but restraint nonetheless. He spends another few minutes licking and sucking gently at your nipple, running his tongue over it and moaning to himself as he sucks your soft flesh into his mouth. Breathing hard, Simon shifts and presses his face harder into you, moving to pepper kisses over the swell of your breasts and your collarbone. 

When he reaches the crook of your neck he falters for a second, inhaling deeply as his fingers spasm on your waist and his hips buck up a little into nothing. He hears a small huff of amusement come from you but he can’t bring himself to focus too much on it, not when he’s been given such a reward-he certainly does not intend to waste the opportunity and shifts both hands to cup your breasts, groping and squeezing them. 

Feverishly, his head ducks back down again, nose pushing along the crease under your breasts and inhaling again. A shudder racks through his body and he can hardly believe his luck when you shift forward, gently settling a knee either side of his lap and taking care to hold the leash tightly still while you straddle him. Again, he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop, his mind feels foggy and blurred as he keeps kneading at your chest, leaning his forehead on your sternum and all but pressing your breasts against his cheeks, smothering himself. 

His breaths come hard and fast, inhales that seem far deeper than his exhales, as if he’s trying to cram as much of your scent into himself as he possibly can. With his hips bucking still, jerking up into nothing as you still hover just too far over him, he switches his attentions back, running his tongue sloppily along the underside of one of your breasts. The tip of the muscle tickles a little, dancing deeper and smearing spit over your skin as he pants and grunts against you. 

The coiling in his gut suddenly becomes noticeable as he draws your nipple into his mouth once more, suckling it and letting his eyes fall closed, and he startles at it, not wanting his reward to be over so soon. He can wait, he can hold out, he’ll be better-

You’re drooling on me sweetheart-

Simon's eyes fly open, shooting up to meet your gaze. He blinks slowly, and his eyes become heavy lidded as he keeps sucking, falling into the pacified state he did last time. Through his dazed thoughts and desperation he manages to listen to you, pulling away with a trail of spit connecting you to his lips to look down briefly. 

There’s drips on his thigh, globs of spit on your lower belly from his copious attentions, and he looks blearily at the spots for a few seconds before deciding he needs more, and he presses himself to your chest again. 

There’s a steady leak of precum dripping from his cockhead by this point, beading through the tight fabric of his briefs, and Simon whimpers when your thigh brushes against him, realising how sensitive he is. Cradling your breast in one hand, he squeezes gently as he sucks, repeated draws of the tight suction in his mouth that make you gasp before you giggle again, fingers combing through his hair. 

Christ Si, at this rate I’ll end up nursing if you’re not careful-

A contented sigh escapes you at the end of your sentence, and you settle down a little further into his lap as you do so. All too soon Simon recognises what’s happening, hears your words slip through the fog of his mind and sucks harder, squeezing his eyes shut, as his cock flexes in his briefs. He’s never thought of nursing before, doesn’t even want kids. He’s never thought of any of that, but the fantasy of doing this, being able to consume, being able to take and taste and relieve the ache you would feel-

No no not yet not yet not yet-

The fingers stop moving in his hair but he can only focus on the blinding pleasure that blurs his vision. More spit escapes him and smears over your skin as the wet patch saturates his briefs, his hips fighting to stay still and his arm still clutching you close while his other hand continues to knead the breast he can’t stop suckling. It thrums through his body, blinding him and dullinh his hearing for a few seconds as pulse after pulse of sticky cum throbs from his shaft, flared tip dragging along the material of his briefs and pushing a couple more dribbles of the pearly fluid from him. His balls pulse with every jerk of his cock, tightening and lifting toward his shaft before they finally feel empty and his thigh is warm with his sticky release.

His legs stop trembling eventually, leaving him weak and bone tired but still unwilling to take his mouth off of you. He only separates for a split second at a time, trying to stutter out his apologies. 

I-m’sorry I-s’too-couldn’t help it-I couldn’t-

Your fingers start moving again gently, nails scraping softly over his scalp and he melts into you. With a satisfied sigh he lets up a little bit, simply laves his tongue in broad strokes over your chest and breathes in the sweat soaked after-sex scent of sorts that clings to you. It fills him wonderfully once more and he smiles into your chest, face glued to your sternum and framed by your soft tits, the way he fantasises about every other minute of the day. 

A contemplative sound comes from just above his head and he pauses his ministrations, remembering with worrying clarity that his reward was to put his mouth on you, not to cum. He didn’t even ask, didn’t even try to get permission.

Simon looks up tentatively, and is met with a smile crossing your features. He knows that smile far too well. 

Well, I suppose tonight can be about stamina training then can’t it?

comments and reblogs huuuuugely appreciated bcus likes don't share my work 😔😔😔 really hope you enjoyed and thank u for reading if u made it this far! <333

You have no excuse to be silent about the genocide in Palestine.

If you can’t reblog the posts about dead Palestinians, at least reblog posts about the history of Palestine.

At least reblog posts showing art made by Palestinians.

At least reblog posts that show fundraisers for Palestinians, e-sims that you can donate, and the arab.org website that helps you donate to Palestine flr free.

At least reblog posts showing Zionist companies that we need to boycott.

That is the absolute least that we can do for Palestine.

The Palestinians are begging for us to use our voice. Some of them don’t even have access to internet, so their suffering goes unnoticed.

Please. Speak up for Palestine.

Mourn the dead, fight like hell for the living.

Free Palestine.