#FERAL FOR HIM

[deunmiu-dessie]

!reader who decides that they want to try being on top for once and anchors their small hands on ghost's chest, bouncing sloppily on his cock and whimpering at his praise. “that’s it. good girl, just like that.” !reader who pants in small, short puffs, cheeks flushing red and legs cramping. !reader whose movements start to get slower just when they're on the brink of cumming. “ i c-can't, m’tired, si.” bf!simon who rumbles deep in his chest at your whiney complaint, "ah, fuckin' hell." bf!simon who grabs the fat of your hips and fucks up into you, hard and fast, gravelly voice mocking. "look at you, can't even fuckin' ride me properly." bf!simon who simpers at your scrunched up face and bleary eyes, mouth open to let out pitiful sobs. "m' sorry, d-daddy--mmn!" he chuckles softly, "'s alright, pet. " ˙ᵕ˙

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ - 𝒸𝓁𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓂𝑒! ⁽ nsfw ⁾

[weeping-treee]

A Desperate Man- Part 2

Simon is so desperate for you, and he can't bring himself to care.

All parts here

My pwincess

You're halfway through the final suture when you meet his gaze once more. His gaze is a weight, heavy and unrelenting—like it might pierce right through you. But it's not discomforting. Quite the opposite, really. It's warm, curious.. almost reverent.

"You always this quiet?" you ask, meeting his gaze head on, gloved fingers expertly tying off the last stitch.

Ghost looks at you as if you asked a dumb question, but then again you've never met him in order to know.

"Only when I've got nothing good enough to say," he finally says, voice low and deliberate.

You smirk. "Guess I should be flattered then, I've rendered you speechless."

"You have," he replies before he can stop himself.

The air between you crackles with silent intensity for a second too long. He shifts on the bed, his gloved hands once again twitch against his thigh. His eyes stare ahead, lost in his thoughts and the complicated mess inside his head. He's never been good at this—whatever this is.

But you? You don't look away. Don't brush him off or retreat back into the professional surgeon you should be upholding. You meet his gaze squarely, even as you peel off the latex gloves with a small snap and discard of them.

"Alright, big guy. You're patched up and good to go," you say, clicking your pen and scrawling something quickly on his chart.

Ghost doesn't budge. As if he's waiting for more. As if he's waiting for permission to move.

"Need me to walk you out, too?" you ask, a small smirk tugging at your lips as he stares at you.

His eyes narrow, amused. "No, but I might come back in a few days, you know, in case this gets infected."

"It won't," you retort with mock authority.

"Still, might be worth checkin'."

You chuckle and shake your head. "Since you're hellbent on seeing me again, come back in a week and I'll see about taking the stitches out."

"Alright," he responds quickly. If he got any more eager, it would almost be pathetic.

"You're shameless, huh?" you say, amused, softly shaking your head in mock disappointment.

He stands slowly, towering over you. The faint tang of antiseptic clings to him, mixed with something else, like gunpowder or maybe cologne. "Only with things worth the shame," he says matter of factly.

You have nothing to quip back with. You just look at him—really look at him. This man made of shadows and silence, draped in darkness and sharp edges, awkwardly trying to flirt in his own jagged way. And there's something there—beneath the tactical gear and balaclava—something honest. Something unpolished.. and almost.. hopeful.

"I'll see you around.. Ghost," you say gently.

He pauses on his way to the door, gloved hand on the frame. "Yeah," he says, voice low. "You will."

He gets back to his quarters, and replays the interaction. Over and over again.

He paces his room.

Tugs his hoodie off one shoulder, careful with the injured side. The stitches catch on the fabric before letting go. Clean, neat work.

Her work.

He stares at them for a long time in the bathroom mirror. Fingers hover. Never touch.

"Guess I should be flattered then, I've rendered you speechless."

He exhales sharply through his nose. The memory burns. Not in a bad way. But not in a good one, either.

She didn't look away. Not once. Not when she peeled her gloves off, not when she smiled, not when he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"You have,"

He mutters a curse under his breath. Does he regret flirting?

Not exactly.

It just leaves him—vulnerable. Lays him bare. And vulnerability? That's not something he's built for.

He lies in his bed, staring at the ceiling. Trying to push it out of his mind. But he fails.

He pictures her face. The way she looked at him like he wasn't some tall monster in a mask.

Like he wasn't broken pieces that seemed impossible to glue back together.

Like she saw every piece—and didn't flinch.

That.

That is what scares him the most.

[coffienq]

How i've been lately (with my chew toy)

[youronlydarlin]

warning: Simon being a mean, mean, man :( , Simon being nasty, Simon has a huge dick n' he uses it against you

Hnghhhhhh, m' in m' head jus' thinkin bout Simon Riley... Simon Riley n his 'too big to fit cock.

Tap's it on your hole just to tease you, the loud plap! plap! plap! sounds like music to his ears. N' mixed with your whimpers and moans the man's fully convinced himself that he's in heaven.

Jus' Simon Riley, and his stupidly big cock. He grabs the swollen base of it. The mushroom tip, red n angry, glaring down at your hole. Copious amount of pre dripping, n he says it's all jus' for you, love.

Simon is gross, and nasty. Holding his shaft, and using it to spell his name on your hole. Saying that it'll help him fit. Trust him. But no, he's just a mean man. Playing with you like that, though he does like how you cry when the tip catches on your entrance, but never enters. You're cute, but to him you look cutest when you're cockdrunk.

a/n: if it isn't already obvious, I was just horny. N e ways, I hopw you enjoyed this darlings! N' don't forget to drink your water!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

[loveanddeepyearning]

Thinking about how Caleb is not like other men...

18+ MDNI, Mentions of your previous partners

“They what?!” 

Oh to turn back time, to unopen your big fat mouth and yoink those words from the super-charged air suspended between your bodies. As your confession hangs in the air, your face burns and you wish to run from the heavy look of disbelief Caleb pins you under. Closing your eyes, you turn your face into the soft pillow cushioning your spinning head, running from the vulnerability you introduced to the situation. 

Calloused fingers turn your face, a captivating gaze caressing your own, flooding your body with a comforting warmth. “I’m sorry, pips.” Soothing the errant strands of hair hindering your view, he strokes your temple, the nerves in your tummy gradually subsiding to a gentle pulse of desire. “You deserve so much better.” 

Caged in an intimate embrace, your legs wind around his hips, pulling him forward to brush his tip against your slick entrance. “Mmmm.” Electricity tingles down your spine as his head prods your clit, his gasp of pleasure echoing like music to your ears. The anxiety that blossomed in your chest when Caleb reverently slipped your clothes from your skin nearly sent you running. Panic only intensified with the admission that you had never finished from a man’s actions, your previous partners only focusing on getting themselves off when the task took too long. The nerves slowly slip away under his troubled watch, appalled that someone would give up, and wouldn't dedicate their lives to learning what makes you cum. 

“Will you teach me?” A heady plea fills his voice, determined to bring you the pleasure you deserve. 

Blushing again, your fingers brush over his chest and the dog tag necklace he wears for you, core clenching when he shivers beneath your touch. Taking his shaft in your hand, you run his head through your folds, moaning when it dips into your soaked pussy. Releasing him, your fingers dig into his shoulder as he slowly slips inside you, warm and pulsing against your sensitive walls. Holding your face, his teeth nip at your ear, breath hot on your neck. “Just as soft as I imagined.” Pinned under the dark haze in his eyes, you clench tighter, his praises intensifying the pleasure in a way you’ve never experienced before. Biceps wrap around your waist, cradling you to his chest, the solid mass of his body pressing you into the sheets you had always laid in alone. Quick hookups to get him off your mind never did the trick, your body aching for his touch, unsatisfied with men who weren’t him. 

Tanned skin presses flush to your own, trailing hands down the sides of your body, cupping and squeezing every inch of the way. Pleasure curls your toes, your hips angling to take him deeper, dizzy from the drag of his cock through your aching cunt. Most gave up at this point, pounding you into the sheets until they collapsed, leaving you sticky and ready to leave. Yet Caleb watches you expectantly, lips gently reassuring you of his affection. 

“Give me your hand.” 

Untangling his fingers from your hair, he watches you encircle his wrist, guiding his index and middle fingers to your clit. Pressing the tips of his digits to your sensitive bud of nerves, your back arches into his chest, his arm tightening the hold on your body. Holding the base of his fingers, you apply a delicious amount of pressure to the area, rubbing his fingertips against you just the way you like it. And oh, when your digits grow weak from the pleasure, his own continue to caress you with expert care, studying every minute change of your blissed-out expression. “Harder?” Pressing firmly, he circles your clit in time with his thrusts, increasing the pressure as he feels you clench around his length. 

“Yes, yes. Just like that.” Throwing your head back, your hips buck into his hand until your orgasm hits you hard, back arching with loud moans of his name. Continuing to move inside you, he works you through the pleasure, swallowing your cries as he pulls your lips to his own. 

Opening your eyes, Caleb hovers over you like an angel against the light, eyes flickering with adoration and pride. “Hmmm. You deserve another one. Cum with me this time.”

[spencersscarf]

Absolutely not a thought behind those eyes but it’s okay because it’s matthew gray gubler ꪆৎ

save a horse, ride a cowboy…

[synnlyrose]

Ughhhhhh pt. 🫠

Ight so if y'all haven't been able to catch on by now, I'mma SOO-BIN slut GIRLIE! OKAY AND IM ON MY monthly AND I NEED HIM SO BAD...

Okay! 😭 Hear me ouutttttt please 🙏🏽

(smut)

~~~~~~~~~~~

It's just: Soo-bin propped up against his bed frame, boxers pulled down just barley, just enough to pull out his cock.

You're on top of him, arms wrapping around his neck, clinging to him like he's your life line. Your body sweaty and naked with loud and desperate whines escaping in between you apologizing profusely to him because he was busy doing something, but you just need him sooooooo bad. Convincing that it would only take a couple of minutes.

Soo-bin knows better.

Your pussy is thinking for you as you pathetically bump yourself up and down on his thick slab. Whimpering as he cures the dull ache your cervix and ovaries were insisting they had; meaning you are craving something long, thick and hard to massage the ache right out of your muscle.

And trust, Soo-bin's cock is the solution. {🙏🏽}

"S-sorry 'Bin...can't help myself..." You choke out, sliding back up and letting yourself plop back down, relishing in the way he fills you up so perfectly, his stretch delicious as always. Fucking yourself so dumb on his cock- you can't help but sprinkle in some 'thank you's, you're almost delirious.

Satisfying the craving. That is Soo-bin's job.

His hands are clutching your waist keeping you steadier than your arms are. You were getting a little lazy with your humps. Soo-bin knows you all too well, becuase he starts moving his hips with you, going the extra inch or 3 that you couldn't. He knows exactly what you need.

Him.

Chuckling his voice is low and soothing, "Shhh it's okay baby girl, don't apologize just take what you need..."

What you need to do is cum for him, on him, from him. Over and over and over again. And that's exactly what you do.

-----

*exhales deeply* I'm not okay 😭😭

PS. I need some tumblr frens....anyone wanna talk?

[posttraumaticprose]

This is the superior Jay Todd and I will not be taking questions. Thank you.

[machveil]

absolute insanity, quoting @nightunite from this post because they gave me thoughts that are loud and screaming - “Also “just made this one” my sweet pancake-assed man, you cut two small holes where the titties go, sewed up the neckhole, and dripped some bleach on it.”

König turns his crusty old shirts into masks - scrubs them as best he can before cutting holes and sewing ‘em up. he’s crafty, learned to sew from his mama, and has a handful shoved in the back of his closet ready to go. sometimes he specifically buys shirts knowing that, at the end of it’s life, it’ll be perfect to paint on, cut up, and customize

König is very serious about his masks. he’s particular about the supplies he uses too - thread is phthalo green, the same bleach he’s been using for years (definitely expired), and the same dinky pair of scissors he’s had since childhood. if he’s missing any of these, which is rare, he’ll tear his place apart looking for them. silently pissed when he finds out his cat stole the thread and hid it under the fridge

CW: size difference, wearing one of König’s masks as an actual shirt, oral fixation(König)

König coming home exhausted and tired from a deployment, drags his feet in the door and shuts it quietly. he doesn’t announce his arrival, slowly making his way to the bedroom. his once droopy eyes now wide open, staring at you - you’d found his latest in-progress mask, neckline yet to be sewn shut. it’d be too big for you normally, but you tied it off around your waist, laughing to yourself softly in the mirror. the cutouts rest just over your ribs, below your chest

“Schatz?”, he startles you, somehow you hadn’t noticed his presence. before you can say anything he’s already approaching you, tired body dragging you to bed. he’s sleepy, and you’re so warm and soft. don’t mind him, rough hands pushing his shirt up a little, the eyehole cutouts revealing your nipples. you don’t mind if he gently laps and sucks on them, right liebling? he’s just getting comfy, hands slipping under your pants as he groans against your chest

[faegoddessog]

Is it so wrong of me to daydream about bruises on my inner thighs? Ones that perfectly match his hips bones from that tiny little waist?  I mean come on … the power in those glutes? LOOK at them. How could I NOT be bruised? I mean sure, ‘what about from behind’. Well to that I say a firm but kind no thank you, not when I could be basking in those magnetic eyes. Besides, who doesn’t want to watch his jaw clench, breath seethe through his teeth and his brow furrow. The cords of muscle on his neck pop, his pecs and biceps flexing when he grips my hands in his are a sight in and of themselves. No sirree, it’s bruises for me every damn time.

[bjornshouldvelivedddd]

HOWS HE FINE IN EVERY PHOTO LITERALLY FERAL FOR HIM.

[onceuponnightmares]

Tell me why ( I might be outing myself but idc

I just wanna lick the fuck out of his torso and also tickle it . Pour hot Carmel in his navel and lick it out

[beebeetheclown]

Jeremy Strong - So It Goes Magazine

Need these on my wall not even kidding. Wait that’s actually a good idea as my dorm bedroom is boring, depressing, and painted grey.

[shoop-boop]

me when suguru geto

[casualbongos1375]

Yes. Talk to me more about the world's injustice.

Don't you love hate it when some greasy ass mf appears out of nowhere and starts monologuing

Like let me move on with my life man I dont want to carry any more problems

[jupiter-iz-cool]

Simply because I can't draw men for SHIT.